Category: italy

D25 – Veronese

These next two rooms are dedicated to the artist known as Paolo Veronese (born Paolo Caliari) due to his birth city of Verona. The earliest piece here is the Portrait of Count Giuseppe da Porto with His Son (c. 1555).

Some scholars identify the Count’s son as Adriano, the oldest of Giuseppe’s children, while others believe he is the Count’s second son, Leonida, based on the dating of the portrait. These scholars believe that at the time this painting was completed, Adriano would have been much older than the age of the child depicted. Neither identification has yet been definitive.

This work is a companion piece to the Portrait of Countess Livia da Porto Thiene and her Daughter, which depicts Giuseppe’s wife Livia and one of the couple’s daughters (now held by the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore).

The identification of the daughter has also been a matter of debate, some scholars believing that she is the oldest daughter Porzia while others believe, based on the age of the girl depicted, she is the couple’s daughter Deidamia. Regardless of the identities of the children, what is interesting is the fact that they are included at all. Up until this time, portraits were typically waist high depictions of a male or female sitter, commissioned (at least in the case of the female sitters) upon the sitter’s marriage. Veronese, however, moved away from that trend and instead produced a full-length family portrait, emphasizing the sitters’ dynastic ambitions. The inclusion of the children also allowed Veronese to demonstrate his skills in bringing a sitter’s personality to the forefront. The children playfully tug at their parents’ clothing in an innocent and endearing manner, capturing their youthfulness and the spontaneity of childhood. Additionally, the children’s luxurious silk clothing matches that of their parents, testifying to the wealth of the family and their intentions of passing that wealth down through the generations. In fact, both Giuseppe and Livia’s families were involved in the silk trade. Their wealth is further displayed via the extensive amount of fur in both portraits, as well as Giuseppe’s gloves. Interestingly, Giuseppe has taken one glove off, to place his naked hand upon his child’s shoulder. Gloves not only indicated wealth and status, but also symbolized travel and distance, i.e., the exterior world, and therefore how one presents himself to that exterior world. By taking his glove off, Giuseppe is showing his interior life and the intimacy/nearness of his relationship with his son.

It is likely that the pieces were part of Veronese’s overall design for Palazzo Porto, the Count’s newly built house, which he had been commissioned to decorate. Based on Veronese’s lighting choices, scholars believe that the portraits were meant to hang on either side of a window (the extra floor space in the Walter’s portrait was a later addition; Livia and her daughter would have been lined up with her husband and son in the original version).

The clever niche that both portraits employ is indicative of Veronese’s skill in perspective (creating three-dimensional space on a flat surface), a skill which he also employs in another early piece in this room, his Annunciation (1556).

According to Christian belief, the Annunciation is the moment that the angel Gabriel announces to Mary, the mother of Jesus, that God has chosen her to bear his son. The Annunciation was a popular subject in Venetian art because Mary was Venice’s patron saint, and according to legend, the city was founded on the Feast of the Annunciation (March 25, 421).

Veronese’s Annunciation held by the Uffizi is the earliest rendition of more than twelve Annunciations that he would paint during his career. This early attempt is much more reminiscent of central Italian depictions of the subject, especially due to its horizontal structure.

Whereas Veronese’s later versions adhere much more to the northern tradition (i.e. vertical, angel flying in from on high, closer and more intimate interaction between angel and Virgin, and the use of clouds as architectural elements):

In the Uffizi Annunciation, Veronese does use a typical Venetian palazzo as the setting instead of an enclosed garden for his work, signifying his desire to celebrate Venice despite the similarities to the central Italian Annunciations, although he give us glimpses of the iconographic garden through the centrally located arch. Through its placement at the center of the work, Veronese hints at the garden’s importance to the overall understanding of the iconography.

The walled garden (hortus conclusus) serves as a symbol of Mary’s separation from the material world as well as an allusion to her titles of the “Mystical Rose” and “The Rose without Thorns,” which in and of themselves allude to her immaculate conception. According to Saint Ambrose, the Garden of Eden contained roses without thorns, but upon the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden, the roses grew thorns, evidencing Original Sin. Because according to Christian belief, Mary was born without sin, i.e. she was immaculately conceived, she became known as a rose without thorns. The garden in the Annunciation, then, is not just a symbol of Mary’s own purity, but a symbol of Mary as the second Eve, the mother of us all who, unlike the original Eve, will give us redemption (i.e. through her own son, Christ).

Another religiously themed work held in this room is Veronese’s Esther and Ahasuerus (c. 1560 – 1569), which depicts the moment the Jewish heroine Esther intercedes with her husband King Ahasuerus to save her people.

3. And Esther spake yet again before the king, and fell down at his feet, and besought him with tears to put away the mischief of Haman the Agagite, and his device that he had devised against the Jews.

4. Then the king held out the golden sceptre toward Esther. So Esther arose, and stood before the king,

5. And said, If it please the king, and if I have found favour in his sight, and the thing seem right before the king, and I be pleasing in his eyes, let it be written to reverse the letters devised by Haman the son of Hammedatha the Agagite, which he wrote to destroy the Jews which are in all the king's provinces:

6. For how can I endure to see the evil that shall come unto my people? or how can I endure to see the destruction of my kindred?

7. Then the king Ahasuerus said unto Esther the queen and to Mordecai the Jew, Behold, I have given Esther the house of Haman, and him they have hanged upon the gallows, because he laid his hand upon the Jews.

8. Write ye also for the Jews, as it liketh you, in the king's name, and seal it with the king's ring: for the writing which is written in the king's name, and sealed with the king's ring, may no man reverse.

9. Then were the king's scribes called at that time in the third month, that is, the month Sivan, on the three and twentieth day thereof; and it was written according to all that Mordecai commanded unto the Jews, and to the lieutenants, and the deputies and rulers of the provinces which are from India unto Ethiopia, an hundred twenty and seven provinces, unto every province according to the writing thereof, and unto every people after their language, and to the Jews according to their writing, and according to their language.

10. And he wrote in the king Ahasuerus' name, and sealed it with the king's ring, and sent letters by posts on horseback, and riders on mules, camels, and young dromedaries:

11. Wherein the king granted the Jews which were in every city to gather themselves together, and to stand for their life, to destroy, to slay, and to cause to perish, all the power of the people and province that would assault them, both little ones and women, and to take the spoil of them for a prey,

12. Upon one day in all the provinces of king Ahasuerus, namely, upon the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, which is the month Adar.

13. The copy of the writing for a commandment to be given in every province was published unto all people, and that the Jews should be ready against that day to avenge themselves on their enemies.

14. So the posts that rode upon mules and camels went out, being hastened and pressed on by the king's commandment. And the decree was given at Shushan the palace.

15. And Mordecai went out from the presence of the king in royal apparel of blue and white, and with a great crown of gold, and with a garment of fine linen and purple: and the city of Shushan rejoiced and was glad.

16. The Jews had light, and gladness, and joy, and honour.

17. And in every province, and in every city, whithersoever the king's commandment and his decree came, the Jews had joy and gladness, a feast and a good day. And many of the people of the land became Jews; for the fear of the Jews fell upon them.

Esther 8:3-17 (KJV) 

Veronese’s depiction of this moment is typical of his style: theatrical, staged, and monumental. King Ahasuerus is depicted holding out his golden scepter towards Esther, as the Biblical story recounts while Esther and her ladies are all sumptuously dressed.

Some of Veronese’s mythological pictures are also held in this room, including Venus and Mercury present Eros and Anteros to Jupiter (c. 1560).

Eros and Anteros, as their names imply, represent the opposite aspects of love, Anteros is lawful love or requited love while Eros is love without law. In other words, Eros represents bodily passion and Anteros represents divine love, a theme taken up by Titian in his work known as Sacred and Profane Love held in the Galleria Borghese in Rome. Both Eros and Anteros were the sons of Venus and Mars, so it is unclear why Mercury is depicted here. Due to the fact that Jupiter is cut off at the waist, some scholars believe that this canvas was at one time part of a larger work. In other words, this work has had scholars puzzled for quite some time, and no one can agree on its meaning.

Another mythological work is Hercules between Virtue and Vice or Man between Virtue and Vice (c. 1565), a small model of the work held in the Frick Museum.

The work depicts a male figure (whom some have identified as Hercules) pulling away from the allegorical representation of vice in an effort to run away with the allegorical representation of virtue. Vice is identifiable via her dress, the back of which is unlaced, suggesting looseness, and the flowers in hair, which are cyclamen flowers, famous for poisonous love potions. Additionally, she is holding a deck of cards, a reference to the idea that the fortunes of those who live dissolute lives are apt to change (and not usually for the better). While the male figure runs away, Vice’s clawed fingers rip his tights in an effort to grasp onto him. Meanwhile, the sphinx behind Vice represents the danger inherent in allowing Vice into your life. Virtue, on the other hand, is crowned with laurel, the traditional symbol of triumph, education, and the arts. As the knife hidden behind Vice indicates, the male figure clearly chose wisely.

D26 – Veronese Corridor

In this small corridor are three religious works by Veronese, including, Madonna and Child with St. John the Baptist, St. Louis of Toulouse and the Donors Giovanni Bevilacqua Lazise and Lucrezia Malaspina (c. 1548), which is the sketch for the Madonna and Child with Saint Louis of Toulouse and Saint John the Baptist, Angels and Donors, the so-called Pala Bevilacqua-Lazise Altarpiece, now held in the Museo Civico di Castelvecchio, Verona.

This piece was commissioned for the Bevilacqua-Lazise family chapel in San Fermo as one of Veronese’s earliest prestigious works. As one of his earliest works, it reflects Titian’s direct influence on his style. In fact, it was likely based on Titian’s Madonna di Ca’Pesaro.

Veronese’s work extends the ledge that the Virgin is enthroned upon to completely separate her space from that of the saints and the donors, setting her even more “on a pedestal.” The saints depicted in Veronese’s work are John the Baptist, identifiable via his hair shirt and processional cross, and St. Louis of Toulouse, dressed in his bishop vestments. The altarpiece for which is work is the model was unfortunately extensively damaged, and therefore differences between the two are visible.

For instance, changes can be seen in the restoration of the face of the Virgin, St. Louis has a beard, and St. John the Baptist’s posture is slightly different. You will notice that the appearances of the donors on either lower corner of the final altarpiece are different from those in the model. The change in the donors’ appearances, however, was likely due to a second couple outliving the original patrons, and they likely directed another artist to change the faces after the first couple had died. There is also the addition of parakeet, but that was likely Veronese’s change, not a change due to the restoration, because the ledge had been extended to accommodate it. Parrots symbolized eloquence, loquacity, as well as the Virgin Mary. The composition also resembles his work known as The Holy Family Enthroned with Young John the Baptist and Saints Catherine and Anthony Abbot (1551), commissioned for the Giustiniani Chapel in the San Francesco della Vigna.

St. Catherine appears in multiple of Veronese’s works, including another religious work in this room, known as the Holy Family with Young St John and St Catherine (c. 1565) (although some scholars identify the female saint as St. Barbara).

Catherine’s martyr’s palm is just visible above her left shoulder. St. John the Baptist is shown kissing the Christ-child’s foot while holding his traditional attribute of a processional cross. Like the children in the da Porto portraits, the boy St. John is depicted with such tenderness that his innocence and childlike naivety is clearly visible, emphasized by St. Joseph’s hand on St. John’s shoulder. St. Joseph was, after all, St. John’s uncle and thus an important father figure in his life.

The last picture in this corridor is known as The Martyrdom of Saint Justina (1572 – 1573). St. Justina was experiencing a heyday at this moment in time because it just so happened that her feast day was the same day as the Holy League’s victory at Battle of Lepanto (October 7, 1571).

St. Justina was a Christian in Padua at a time when the Roman Empire persecuted Christians. She was of noble birth, and therefore one of her attributes is a crown, which Veronese painted in this work in front of her body. According to legend, Emperor Maximian ordered her death because she was unshakeable in her vow of chastity. So, Roman soldiers took a knife to her chest.

This work is typical of Veronese: theatrical and rather staged. The two men on the right look upon the scene as though part of a detached audience. While St. Justina opens her hands to the heavens, accepting death and martyrdom.

D23 – Venetian Naturalism

We continue our journey through the Uffizi, coming upon more works by Titian, including his Portrait of Caterina Cornaro as St. Catherine of Alexandria (1542).

Caterina Cornaro was the last monarch of the Kingdom of Cyprus. She was descended from an influential Venetian family and at age 14 was married to a claimant to the Cypriot throne to strengthen Venetian ties with the Island. After her husband and son died, she became Queen Regent of Cyprus until the Island was annexed by Venice. Upon her return to Italy, she became a great patron of the arts and was painted by Titian, Bellini, and Dürer, among others. Titian chose to portray her as St. Catherine of Alexandria, a royal saint identifiable via her attribute of the wheel on which she was going to be tortured, but which broke at her touch. Catherine is dressed in Turkish silk, a testament to Venice’s commercial interests in the east, and some scholars have identified the gauze she wears on her headdress as Cyprus lawn, a fabric for which Cyprus was known. Her dress is also studded with pearls, another export for which Cyprus was famous. The work, therefore, is a celebration of Caterina as an individual, but also a celebration of Venice and its commercial power.

Another work latching on to the trend of depicting real women as mythical or spiritual models is Jacopo Negretti’s (Palma il Vecchio) Judith with the Head of Holofernes (c. 1525 – 1528).

The life of the Biblical heroine Judith is told in the deuterocanonical (i.e. considered canonical by the Catholic church but not by the Protestant church) Book of Judith. Judith is a Hebrew widow, known for her beauty and virtue, and when the Assyrian troops threaten Israel, she and her maid servant confront the Assyrian general Holofernes. Using her beauty and charm, Judith manages to trick Holofernes into drinking too much so she can behead him and save Israel from his army:

16. Now when Judith came in and sat down, Holofernes his heart was ravished with her, and his mind was moved, and he desired greatly her company; for he waited a time to deceive her, from the day that he had seen her.

17. Then said Holofernes unto her, Drink now, and be merry with us.

18. So Judith said, I will drink now, my lord, because my life is magnified in me this day more than all the days since I was born.

19. Then she took and ate and drank before him what her maid had prepared.

20. And Holofernes took great delight in her, and drank more wine than he had drunk at any time in one day since he was born.

Chapter 13

1. Now when the evening was come, his servants made haste to depart ...

2. And Judith was left alone in the tent, and Holofernes lying alone upon his bed: for he was filled with wine.

3. Now Judith had commanded her maid to stand without her bedchamber, and to wait for her. Coming forth, as she did daily: for she said she would go forth to her prayers ...

4. So all went forth and none was left in the bedchamber, neither little nor great. Then Judith, standing by his bed, said in her heart, O Lord God of all power, look at this present upon the works of mine hands for the exaltation of Jerusalem.

5. For now is the time to help thine inheritance, and to execute thine enterprises to the destruction of the enemies which are risen against us.

6. Then she came to the pillar of the bed, which was at Holofernes' head, and took down his fauchion from thence,

7. And approached to his bed, and took hold of the hair of his head, and said, Strengthen me, O Lord God of Israel, this day.

8. And she smote twice upon his neck with all her might, and she took away his head from him.

9. And tumbled his body down from the bed, and pulled down the canopy from the pillars; and anon after she went forth, and gave Holofernes his head to her maid ...

KJV Chapter 12-13.

Some believe the model in Palma il Vecchio’s Judith could be the same woman as depicted in Palma Vecchio’s Blonde Woman, held in the National Gallery in London.

This woman was considered the height of Venetian beauty: blond hair, pink cheeks but pearly skin, and voluptuous. Whoever this model was, she fulfilled the idealized checklist, making it more likely that Palma did in fact paint her multiple times.

Another so-called bella donna in this room is Alessandro Varotari’s (Padovanino) Lucretia (1620 – 1625).

This work is a copy of Suicide of Lucretia, attributed to Titian and held in the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna.

Lucretia was another heroine revered by the people of the Renaissance. She was the wife of depicts Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus, a member of the royal Roman family. While Collatinus was away from home, his cousin, the Roman prince Sextus Tarquinius, raped Lucretia. When her husband came home, she told him what the prince had done and then subsequently killed herself. It was this incident that was the straw on the camel’s back, aggravating simmering tensions against the Roman monarchy. Collatinus and his more famous co-counsel Lucius Junius Brutus (ancestor of Brutus, yes the “et tu Brute” Brutus) started the revolution that created the infamous Roman Republic that lasted until Caesar.

Here, Lucretia is depicted the moment before she kills herself with her husband attempting to restrain her by grabbing her left arm (although some scholars identify him as her rapist, Sextus Tarquinius). She does not seem to notice him, instead looking heavenly in anticipation of redeeming herself (or so those in the Renaissance would have interpreted it; to the modern viewer, the story reeks of victim-shaming). The Envelopment of Lucretia in a bright light coupled with her spiritual expression transform the “pagan” story from ancient Rome into a Christian morality tale. Lucretia almost becomes a Christian martyr, thus allowing the Christian audience to revere her like a saint without any “stain” of promoting paganism.

Another artist following in Titian’s footsteps is Bernardino Licinio and his work known as La Nuda (1540), which was completed only two years after Titian’s Venus of Urbino.

Like Titian’s Venus of Urbino, nothing in this work overtly identifies the sitter as Venus, hence her title as “la nuda.” Some scholars, however, have pointed to the pair of doves in the lower left-hand corner as evidence that this work is in fact a picture of Venus. A pair of doves traditionally symbolized love, yet this could just be a reference to love itself and not the goddess.

Unlike Titian in his Venus, however, Licinio fills the entire space with his reclining nude, abandoning any pretense of a background. To further emphasize the body, Licinio surrounds the vicinity nearest to the body in cold-toned fabrics while coating the rest of the piece in warmer tones.

A non-bella donna work in this room is known as Two Dogs (1555), painted by Jacopo da Ponte (Jacopo Bassano).

During the 16th century, dogs became protagonists of works, no longer just the faithful companion. The trend was likely started by Bassano, who included dogs in almost all of his works, with Tintoretto and Veronese copying him. The trend arose at the same time as wealthy Venetians were starting to build country villas on the mainland, increasing demand for art of the countryside genre to decorate those country villas. In the background of this work is a depiction of Bassano’s hometown Bassano del Grappa.

D24 – Tintoretto Gallery

Room D24 is dedicated to the artist known as Tintoretto, although there are several works by Carlo Cannovaro Caliari (the youngest son of Veronese) located within this room as well. Tintoretto was known for his association with an intellectual group know as the poligrafi, the members of which took sardonic view of high classical culture. This association with the poligrafi comes through in many of Tintoretto’s mythological works, including his Leda and the Swan (c. 1550).

Leda and the Swan depicts the mythological tale wherein Zeus, the king of the gods, lusted after Leda, queen of Sparta. To slake his lust, he transforms himself into a swan and rapes Leda. The result of this copulation was the infamous Helen of Troy. Yet, Tintoretto takes this classical tale, depicted multiple times for wealthy patrons, and twists it into something ridiculous. Here, the Zeus-Swan has to compete with a yappy lap dog for Leda’s attention. Meanwhile to the left of the work is a wicker basket, implying that Leda keeps the swan in a wicker cage when she isn’t using him. Tintoretto uses realism to demonstrate the fallacy of the increasingly eroticization of art.

Turning to Tintoretto’s religious works in this room, we come to his Sacrifice of Isaac (c. 1550-1555).

1. And it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him, Abraham: and he said, Behold, here I am.

2. And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.

3. And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told him. ...

9. And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood.

10. And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son.

11. And the angel of the LORD called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I.

12. And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me.

13. And Abraham lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns: and Abraham went and took the ram, and offered him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son.

The other Biblical painting by Tintoretto in this room is The Expulsion of Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden (c. 1550).

This work was commissioned as part of a series by the Scuola della Santissima Trinità in Venice. Only three other works that made up the series remain and are located in the Accademia in Venice. Those depict the Creation of animals, Original sin, and Cain and Abel. Therefore, the work in the Uffizi would have been the third of the series, to be placed after Original Sin and prior to Cain and Abel. In all of the works making up this series, Tintoretto used simple narratives involving only the necessary actors and filled in the details in the background. Here, in the foreground are Adam and Eve, covering themselves in shame while God the Father stands behind what appears to be the Tree of Knowledge.

Tintoretto’s Expulsion is complemented by a series of works on the same subject by Carlo Caliari (c. 1585), including Carlo’s Creation of Eve, Original Sin, the Expulsion from Eden, and the Toil of Adam and Eve.

Carlo’s Creation of Eve includes more compositionally complex than Tintoretto’s Expulsion due to the increase of forms and figures he chose to portray, including animals in addition to the central figures of God, Adam, and Eve.

Here, Eve emerges from behind Adam in a rather awkward posture with God watching on. Rather than idealized classical forms, the Adam and Eve are depicted in a more naturalistic manner, typical of later Venetian style. Like Bassano, discussed above, Carlo includes a multitude of dogs in the work, demonstrating their increasing importance and symbolism in Venetian naturalist art.

The next image in the series depicts the moment of Original Sin, wherein Eve tempts Adam with an apple.

This work is simpler than the Creation of Eve with only a couple of animals scattered in the foreground, but the same lush background is present. Also innovative for the period was displaying nude bodies from the back, as Eve is displayed here.

Next in the series is the Expulsion from Eden.

Unlike in Tintoretto’s version, Carlo’s work does not include God the Father as part of the expulsion, instead he depicts an angel doing the actual expulsion – keeping God at a distance from the whole affair. Once again, Carlo includes naturalistic looking animals in his scene alongside Adam and Eve, whom he has reserved postures, showing us his skill in painting a male back and a female front.

The final piece in the series is The Toil of Adam and Eve.

Adam and Eve are now accompanied by their two children, Cain and Abel, but their landscape is no longer as lush, and they must now work for their food.

D20 – El Greco

This room holds the Uffizi’s only work by Domenikos Theotokopoulous, better known as El Greco (“The Greek”). Although El Greco is primarily known for the works he produced while he lived in Spain, his style was in fact developed amid Venetian influences and therefore his work is properly placed here, among the rooms housing the Uffizi’s Venetian works. El Greco was born on the Greek island of Crete, which at the time of his brith, was under Venetian control. Moreover, he traveled to Venice during the early stages of his career, absorbing the loose brush techniques and the emphasis on color that characterized Venetian art at the time. The work that the Uffizi purchased in 1973 is known as Saint John the Evangelist and St. Francis (c. 1600).

As its name implies, the work depicts the two saints, St. John the Evangelist (on the left) and St. Francis of Assisi (on the right). St. John the Evangelist is recognizable via his traditional attribute of an eagle, pictured in the lower left hand corner of the work, as well as the chalice he holds in his left hand.

The chalice with the dragon (sometimes depicted as a serpent¹) is a reference to the story of St. John in Jacopo Varagine’s Golden Legend wherein a priest from the temple of the Roman goddess Diana asks St. John to demonstrate Christ’s power by drinking from a poisoned chalice. The priest ordered two prisoners to drink from the chalice, both of whom died before John’s eyes. John agrees to drink from the chalice, and not only is he immune to the poison, but he raises the two prisoners from the dead. The legend of the poisoned chalice became a metaphor of the conflict between the Church (represented by St. John) and Satan (represented, as usual, as a dragon/serpent).

St. Francis is recognizable via the stigmata (Christ’s crucifixion wounds that miraculously appeared on St. Francis) on his hands as well as his Franciscan habit (the robes worn by members of the Franciscan order of monks). St. Francis was the founder of the Franciscan order, and therefore he is usually shown wearing the habit of that order. Wrapped around his waist is cord with three knots, which symbolize the three vows taken by Franciscans: obedience, poverty, and chastity.

El Greco produced multiple double portraits of saints, including a replica of this piece that is owned by the Prado in Madrid.

The St. Francis in this work is also strikingly similar to the St. Francis in El Greco’s Saint Andrew and Saint Francis, also located in the the Prado.

Whereas the St. John appears in a similar work, once again held at the Prado:

El Greco’s works are defined by a deep, yet tragic, spirituality expressed through his use of icy, metallic colors amid treacherous backgrounds. His elongated and elegant forms recall the icons of the Byzantine medieval period, of which he would have been deeply familiar with due to his childhood in Greece. Like those icons, the works of El Greco seek to emphasize the saints’ unworldly nature inspiring a sense of the divine.

El Greco is able to dispense with the figures’ halos, yet still suggest to the viewer that the figures are saints via their stretched and stylized forms, delicate fingers, and elegant lines. Although still of the mannerist school, El Greco’s work anticipates the coming movement later known as impressionism.

D21 – Antechamber of Venus

Introducing Titian’s more famous Venus of Urbino is his Venus and Cupid with a Lap Dog and a Partridge (c. 1550), which is located in the room directly next to its more famous sister piece.

Many critics believe that the majority of this piece was actually done by Titian’s workshop, leaving only the details to Titian’s hand, thus its sidelining when considered against Venus of Urbino. Unlike the figure depicted in the Venus of Urbino, the sitter here is clearly identifiable as Venus based on the presence of her son Cupid and the roses, which were an attribute of Venus. Venus was the patroness of martial love, and she was oftentimes invoked in what are known as epithalamia, poems written for a young bride as she progresses to her martial chamber. In these poems, Venus is typically described as asleep, only to be woken by her son Cupid, who leads her to a wedding to act as a pronuba (patroness) of the wedding. This interpretation of marital love is further confirmed by Venus’ jewels. Indeed, her pearl necklace indicates that she is not an allusion to carnal love as the sumptuary laws prohibited the wearing of pearls except for married aristocratic women. Additionally, the barking dog symbolizes fidelity while the partridge at which it is barking is the symbol of lust, but also fertility.

This Venus is just one of many that was produced by Titian’s workshop, including Venus with an Organist and a Dog (located at the Prado in Madrid), Venus with an Organist and a Cupid (also at the Prado), Venus and Cupid with a lute-player (Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge), Venus with an Organist, a Dog and a Cupid (Gemäldegalerie in Berlin), and Venus and the Lute Player (The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York).

Unlike these Venuses, the Uffizi Venus does not include a musician, instead focusing solely on the figure herself. The multiple copies of this piece indicate that it was an extremely popular subject among aristocratic classes, who would typically display these type of eroticized pictures in the marital bedrooms in hopes they would increase fertility and bring about a legitimate heir.

D22 – Titian’s Venus of Urbino

The star of this corridor is undoubtedly Titian’s Venus of Urbino (c. 1534), the first of Titian’s reclining nudes and the most written about and controversial of his paintings.

It was sold in 1538 to Guidobaldo II della Rovere, the grandson of Duke Federico da Montefeltro of Urbino, a portrait of whom is also located in the Uffizi. In a letter offering to buy the Venus, however, Guidobaldo calls the figure depicted “la donna nuda” (“the nude woman”), not Venus. So why is she known as the Venus of Urbino? One reason may be that she is based off of a figure in a work known as the Dresden Venus or the Sleeping Venus, which was painted about 20 years prior to the Venus of Urbino by Titian’s teacher Giorgione and which clearly depicted a Venus based on the inclusion of a (now painted over) Cupid.

The Dresden Venus is the first known large scale reclining nude painted during the Renaissance. Prior to the Dresden Venus, however, reclining nudes regularly decorated the lids of cassoni (dowry chests or marriage chests) in the hopes of increasing fertility in the marriage bed (See the cassone decorated by Paolo Uccello, to the left). It is likely that the patrons of these innovative large scale nudes kept the aspect of private viewing by placing them in their bedrooms in hopes of increasing fertility in the marriage bed.

Although we know that the figure in Giorgione’s work is indeed Venus because a Cupid once sat at her feet, no Cupid appears in Titian’s Venus of Urbino. The posy of roses and the myrtle plant on the window sill are both symbols of Venus, but no other explicit attribute of her is present. Her pose is reminiscent of the Venus Pudica (literally “shameful Venus”), but unlike the modest Venus getting out of the bath, the Venus of Urbino makes a somewhat feeble attempt at covering herself.

In fact, she shows no shame as she looks the viewer directly in the eyes in a rather promiscuous way, giving the viewer the impression that she may not be attempting to cover herself after all. A possibility further suggested via the placement of her hand at the direct center of the canvas, drawing explicit attention to it. Rather than a Cupid at her feet, Titian places a dog, the traditional symbol of fidelity, but the dog is depicted sound asleep. Some scholars believe that the sleeping dog indicates that fidelity is also sleeping. The same dog appears (awake) in another Titian work, Portrait of Eleonora Gonzaga, Duchess of Urbino:

(Eleonora Gonzaga is the mother of Guidobaldo II della Rovere, the eventual purchaser of the Venus of Urbino).

The tactility of objections, achieved through variations in brush work, is typical of Titian, as is the celebration of Venice. The setting of the work is what a typical Venetian palazzo would have looked like, and the maids in the background are going through what appears to be the bridal chest, the lid of which, as noted above, would typically be decorated with a reclining nude. Thus, Titian plays with the viewer, transferring the nude image from the bridal chest’s lid and placing it front and center without shame. Yet, he still pays tribute to the tradition’s roots by including the cassone in the background. The maids are likely going through the cassone to collect a beautiful gold and blue gown for the bride to wear during il toccamano, a ceremony in which the bride would touch the hand of the groom to express her consent to the marriage. Some scholars disagree with this interpretation, instead insisting that the maids in the background are simply a reference to the domestic atmosphere one would find in a rich courtesan’s house. Eroticism becomes mainstream where there was one prostitute per every ten people in Venice. In short, scholars are divided over whether the “Venus” in this work is indeed intended to depict a goddess, a bride, or simply a seductive woman with no other purpose than a pin up girl would have today.

The sitter of the painting is unknown, but one theory has been put forth that she was one of Venice’s most celebrated courtesans known as Zaffetta (Angela del Moro) due to her father’s profession as a policeman (a “zaffo”). Titian emphasizes the sensuous curves of Venus by placing her against rectilineal shapes, including the windows, bed, window, chest, wall paper. Indeed, she does encompass the ideals of 16th century beauty: blond hair (even though typical Italian women were brunettes), broad shoulders, small breasts, and a full waist (to emphasize a woman’s fertility). Whoever the sitter is, Titian used her likeness in his works several times.

Next to Venus hangs Titian’s Flora (c. 1515-1517), another of Titian’s works over which debate concerning the sitter’s identity rage.

Some scholars believe that the work is a portrait of young bride based on her wedding band, which is visible on her right hand, slightly hidden by the posy she holds. Others believe that the work is simply another picture of a prostitute, especially since Venetian prostitutes would commonly give their names as Flora as a play on the Roman goddess’s role as goddess of flowers (deflowering was a euphemism even back then). Still others believe that she really is intended to depict the goddess Flora. Regardless of who she is, she, like the sitter in Venus of Urbino, display the hallmarks of sixteenth century idealized beauty: pale, luminous skin, pink cheeks, and long loose copper-blond hair (today dubbed “Titian Red” due to his constant usage of such).

Flora is indebted to Giorgione’s Laura, one of the first “belle donne” pictures, half length depictions of idealized beautiful women, who may either be brides or courtesans, which seem to be the only two roles Renaissance Italy (like many other times and places) allowed women to fill. It is telling, however, how blurred the line between the two is, making it impossible for scholars and us causal viewers to differentiate one from the other. Just some food for thought.

The other work in this room is another donna bella, known as Portrait of a Lady (1512) by Sebastiano del Piombo, a contemporary of both Giorgione and Titian.

This portrait is of a wealthy young lady, as attested by her fur collar and drop pearl earrings. The collar of her chemise is embroidered with mythological scenes in gold thread, demonstrating the Roman influence on Sebastiano del Piombo’s style, but his colors are in keeping with his Venetian training. She is wearing a twig crown, which could be made of laurel, indicating that the sitter may a poet.

Footnotes

1 For a fascinating article on how serpents transformed into dragons over history, check out BBC History Extra’s article “Dragons: from mythological beasts of history to the fire breathers of fantasy.”