Portfolio 2

LIONARDO DA VINCI, Painter and Sculptor of Florence (1452-I5I9)

THE heavens often rain down the richest gifts on human beings,

naturally, but sometimes with lavish abundance bestow upon a single

individual beauty, grace and ability, so that, whatever he does, every

action is so divine that he distances all other men, and clearly displays

how his genius is the gift of God and not an acquirement of human art.

Men saw this in Lionardo da Vinci, whose personal beauty could not be

exaggerated, whose every movement was grace itself and whose abilities

were so extraordinary that he could readily solve every difficulty. He

possessed great personal strength, combined with dexterity, and a spirit

and courage invariably royal and magnanimous, and the fame of his

name so spread abroad that, not only was he valued in his own day, but

his renown has greatly increased since his death.

This marvellous and divine Lionardo was the son of Piero da Vinci. He

would have made great profit in learning had he not been so capricious

and fickle, for he began to learn many things and then gave them up.

Thus in arithmetic, during the few months that he studied it, he made

such progress that he frequently confounded his master by continually

raising doubts and difficulties. He devoted some time to music, and soon

learned to play the lyre, and, being filled with a lofty and delicate spirit,

he could sing and improvise divinely with it. Yet though he studied so

many different things, he never neglected design and working in relief,

those being the things which appealed to his fancy more than any other.

When Ser Piero perceived this, and knowing the boy's soaring spirit, he

one day took some of his drawings to Andrea del Verrocchio, who was

his close friend, and asked his opinion whether Lionardo would do

anything by studying design. Andrea was so amazed at these early

efforts that he advised Ser Piero to have the boy taught. So it was

decided that Lionardo should go to Andrea's workshop.1 The boy was

greatly delighted, and not only practised his profession, but all those in

which design has a part. Possessed of a divine and marvellous intellect,

and being an excellent geometrician, he not only worked in sculpture,

doing some heads of women

(1) About I468.

smiling, which were casts, and children's heads also, executed like a

master, but also prepared many architectural plans and elevations, and

he was the first, though so young, to propose to canalise the Arno from

Pisa to Florence. He made designs for mills, fulling machines, and other

engines to go by water, and as painting was to be his profession, he

studied drawing from life. He would make clay models of figures,

draping them with soft rags dipped in plaster, and would then draw them

patiently on thin sheets of cambric or linen, in black and white, with the

point of the brush. He did these admirably, as may be seen by specimens

in my book of designs. He also drew upon paper so carefully and well

that no one has ever equaled him. I have a head in grisaihe which is

divine. The grace of God so possessed his mind, his memory and

intellect formed such a mighty union, and he could so clearly express his

ideas in discourse, that he was able to confound the boldest opponents.

Every day he made models and designs for the removal of mountains

with ease and to pierce them to pass from one place to another, and by

means of levers, cranes, and winches to raise and draw heavy weights;

he devised a method for cleansing ports, and to raise water from great

depths, schemes which his brain never ceased to evolve. Many designs

for these notions are scattered about, and I have seen numbers of them.

He spent much time in making a regular design of a series of knots so

that the cord may be traced from one end to the other, the whole filling a

round space. There is a fine engraving of this most difficult design, and

in the middle are the words: Leonardus Vinci Academia. Among these

models and designs there was one which he several times showed to

many able citizens who then ruled Florence, of a method of raising the

church of S. Giovanni and putting steps under it without it falling down.

He argued with so much eloquence that it was not until after his

departure that they recognised the impossibility of such a feat.

His charming conversation won all hearts, and although he possessed

nothing and worked little, lie kept servants and horses of which he was

very fond, and indeed he loved all animals, and trained them with great

kindness and patience. Often, when passing places where birds were

sold, he would let them out of their cages and pay the vendor the price

asked. Nature had favoured him so greatly that in whatever his brain or

mind took up he displayed unrivalled divinity, vigornr, vivacity,

excellence, beauty and grace. His knowledge of art, indeed, prevented

him from finishing many things which he had begun, for he felt that his

hand would be unable to realize the perfect creations of his imagination,

as his mind formed such difficult, subtle and marvellous conceptions

that his hands, skilful as they were, could never have expressed them.

His interests were so numerous that his inquiries into natural phenomena

led him to study the properties of herbs and to observe the movements of

the heavens, the moon's orbit and the progress of the sun.

Lionardo was placed, as I have said, with Andrea del Verrocchio in his

childhood by Ser Piero, and his master happened to be painting a picture

of St. John baptising Christ.1 For this Lionardo did an angel holding

some clothes, and, although quite young, he made it far better than the

figures of Andrea. The latter would never afterwards touch colours,

chagrined that a child should know more than he. Lionardo was next

employed to draw a cartoon of the Fall for a porti~re in tapestry, to be

made in Flanders of gold and silk, to send to the King of Portugal. Here

he did a meadow in grisaille, with the lights in white lead, containing

much vegetation and some animals, unsurpassable for finish and

naturalness. There is a fig-tree, the leaves and branches beautifully

foreshortened and executed with such care that the mind is amazed at the

amount of patience displayed. There is also a palm-tree, the rotundity of

the dates being executed with great and marvellous art, due to the

patience and ingenuity of Lionardo. This work was not carried farther,

and the cartoon is now in Florence in the fortunate house of Ottaviano

de' Medici the Magnificent, to whom it was given not long ago by

Lionardo's uncle.

It is said that when Ser Piero was at his country-seat he was requested by

a peasant of his estate to get a round piece of wood painted for liim at

Florence, which he had cut from a fig-tree on his farm. Piero readily

consented, as the man was ‚very skilful in catching birds and fishing,

and was very useful to him in sucli matters. Accordingly Piero brought

tlie wood to Florence and asked Lionardo to paint something upon it,

without telling him its history. Lionardo, on taking it up to examine it

one day, found it warped, badly prepared and rude, but with the help of

fire he made it straight, and giving it to a turner, had it rendered soft and

smooth instead of being rougli and rude. Then, after preparing the

surface in his own way, he began to cast about what he should paint on

it, and resolved to do the Medusa head to terrify all beholders. To a

room, to which he alone had access, Lionardo took lizards, newts,

maggots,

(1) About I470.

snakes, butterflies, locusts, bats, and other animals of the kind out of

which he composed a horrible and terrible monster, of poisonous breath,

issuing from a dark and broken rock, belching poison from its open

throat, fire from its eyes, and smoke from its nostrils, of truly terrible

and horrible aspect. He was so engrossed with the work that he did not

notice the terrible stench of the dead animals, being absorbed in his love

for art. Ylis father and the peasant no longer asked for the work, and

when it was finished Lionardo told his father to send for it when he

pleased, as lie had done his part. Accordingly Ser Piero went to his

rooms one morning to fetch it. When he knocked at the door Lionardo

opened it and told him to wait a little, and, returning to his room, put the

round panel in the light on his easel, and having arranged the window to

make the light dim, he called liis father in. Ser Piero, taken unaware,

started back, not thinking of the round piece of wood, or that the face

which he saw was painted, and was beating a retreat when Lionardo

detained him and said, "This work has served its purpose; take it away,

then, as it has produced the effect intended." Ser Piero indeed thought it

more than miraculous, and he warmly praised Lionardo's idea. He then

quietly went and bought anotlier round wlieel with a ]ieart transfixed by

a dart painted upon it, and gave it to the peasant, who was grateful to

Piero all his life. Piero took Lionardo's work secretly to Florence and

sold it to some merchants for I 00 ducats, and in a short time it came into

the hands of the Duke of Milan, who bought it of them for 300 ducats.

Lionardo next did a very excellent Madonna, which afterwards belonged

to Pope Clement VII. Among other things it contained a bowl of water

with some marvellous flowers, the dew upon them seeming actually to

be there, so that they looked more real than reality itself. For his good

friend Antonio Segni lie drew a Neptune on paper, with so much design

and care that he seemed alive. The sea is troubled and his car is drawn

by sea-horses, with the sprites, monsters, and south winds and other fine

marine creatures. The drawing was given by Antonio's son Fabio to M.

Giovanni Gaddi with this epigram:

Pinxit Virgilius Neptunum, pinxit Homerus; Dum maris undisoni per

vada flectit equos Mente quidem vates illum conspexit uterque Vincius

ast oculus; jureque vincit eos.

Lionardo then had the fancy to paint a picture of the Medusa's head in

oils with a garland of snakes about it, the most extra-

ordinary idea imaginable, but as the work required time, it remained

unfinished, the fate of nearly all his projects.1 This is among the

treasures in the palace of Duke Cosimo, together with the head of an

angel, who is raising an arm in the air, this arm being foreshortened from

the shoulder to the elbow, while the other rests on its breast. So

marvellous was Lionardo's mind that, desiring to throw his things into

greater relief, he endeavoured to obtain greater depths of shadow, and

sought the deepest blacks in order to render the lights clearer by contrast.

He succeeded so well that his scenes looked rather like representations

of the night, there being no bright light, than of the Ilightness of day,

though all was done with the idea of throwing things into greater relief

and to find the end and perfection of art. Lionardo was so delighted

when he saw curious heads, whether bearded or hairy, that he would

follow about anyone who had thus attracted his attention for a whole

day, acquiring such a clear idea of him that when he went home he

would draw the head as well as if the man had been present. In this way

many heads of men and women came to be drawn, and I have several

such pen-and-ink drawings in my book, so often referred to. Among

them is the head of Amergio Vespucci, a fine old man, drawn in carbon,

and that of Scaramuccia, the gipsy captain, which afterwards belonged

to M. Donato Valdambrini of Arezzo, canon of S. Lorenzo, left to him

by Giambullari. He began a picture of the Adoration of the Magi,2

containing many beautiful things, especially heads, which was in the

house of Amerigo Benci, opposite the loggia of the Peruzzi, but which

was left unfinished like his other things.

On the death of Giovan. Galeazzo, Duke of Milan, and the accession of

Ludovico Sforza in the same year, 1493, Lionardo was invited to Milan

with great ceremony by the duke to play the lyre, in which that prince

greatly delighted.3 Lionardo took his own instrument, made by himself

in silver, and shaped like a horse's head, a curious and novel idea to

render the harmonies more loud and sonorous, so that he surpassed all

the musicians who had assembled there. Besides this he was the best

reciter of improvised rhymes of his time. The duke, captivated by

Lionardo's conversation and genius, conceived an extraordinary

(1) The picture answering to this in the Uffizi is a work of the later

sixteenth century, painted from Vasari's description. (2) Now in the

Uffizi, supposed to be the high-altar picture for S. Donato in Scopeto

which lie was commissioned to paint in I48I. (3) Lionardo was at Milan

from I483. (4) Ludovico il Moro became duke in 1494, but he had been

the real ruler of the state some time before.

affection for him. He begged him to paint an altar-picture of the

Nativity, which was sent by tlie duke to the emperor. Lionardo then did

a Last Supper for the Dominicans at S. Maria delle Grazie in Milan,1

endowing the heads of the Apostles with such majesty and beauty that

he left that of Christ unfinished, feeling that l,e could not give it that

celestial divinity which it demanded. Tliis work left in sucli a condition

has always been held in the greatest veneration by the Milanese and by

other foreigners, as Lionardo has seized the moment when the Apostles

are anxious to discover who would betray their Master. All their faces

are expressive of love, fear, wrath or grief at not being able to grasp the

meaning of Christ, in contrast to the obstinacy, hatred and treason of

Judas, while tlie whole work, down to the smallest details, displays

incredible diligence, even the texture of the tablecloth being clearly

visible so that actual cambric would not look more real. It is said that the

prior incessantly importuned Lionardo to finish the work, tliinking it

strange tliat the artist should pass half a day at a time lost in thought. He

would have desired him never to lay down the brush, as if he were

digging a garden. Seeing that his importunity produced no effect, he had

recourse to the duke, who felt compelled to send for Lionardo to inquire

about the work, showing tactfully that he was driven to act by the

importunity of the prior. Lionardo, aware of the acuteness and discretion

of the duke, talked with him fully about the picture, a thing which he had

never done with the prior. He spokc freely of his art, and explained how

men of genius really are doing most when they work least, as they are

thinking out ideas and perfecting the conceptions, which they

subsequently carry out with their hands. He added that there were still

two heads to be done, that of Christ, which he would not look for on the

earth, and felt unable to conceive the beauty of the celestial grace that

must have been incarnate in the divinity. The other head was that of

Judas, which also caused him thought, as he did not think he could

express the face of a man who could resolve to betray liis Master, the

Creator of the world, after having reccived so many benefits. But he was

wilhng in this case to seek no farther, and for lack of a better he would

do the head of the importunate and tactless prior. The duke was

wonderfully amused, and laughingly declared that he was quite right.

Then the poor prior, covered with confusion, went back to his garden

and left Lionardo in peace, while the artist indeed

(1) Between 1495 and 1498.

finished his Judas, making him a veritable likeness of treason and

cruelty. The head of Christ was left unfinished, as I have said. The

nobility of this painting, in its composition and the care with which it

was finished, induced the King of France to wish to take it home with

him. Accordingly he employed architects to frame it in wood and iron,

so that it might be transported in safety, without any regard for the cost,

so great was his desire. But the king was thwarted by its being done on

the wall, and it remained with the Milanese.

While engaged upon the Last Supper, Lionardo painted the portrait of

Duke Ludovico, with Maximilian, his eldest son, at the top of this same

refectory, where there is a Passion in the old style. At the other end he

did the Duchess Beatrice with Francesco, her other son, both of whom

afterwards became Dukes of Milan, the portraits being marvellous.

While thus employed, Lionardo suggested that the duke should set up a

bronze horse of colossal size with the duke upon it in memory of

himself. But he began it on such a scale that it could never be done. Such

is the malice of man when stirred by envy that there are some who

believe that Lionardo, as with so many of his things, began this with no

intention of completing it, because its size was so great that

extraordinary difficulties might be foreseen in having it cast all in one

piece. And it is probable that many have formed this opinion from the

result, since so many of his things have been left unfinished. However,

we can readily believe that his great and extraordinary talents suffered a

check from being too venturesome, and that the real cause was his

endeavour to go on from excellence to excellence and from perfection to

perfection. Talche l'Operafusse ritardata dal desio,"' as our Petrarca says

In truth, those who have seen Lionardo's large clay model aver that they

never beheld anything finer or more superb. It was preserved until the

French came to Milan with King Louis of France, and broke it all to

pieces. Thus a small wax model, considered perfect, was lost, as well as

a book of the anatomy of horses, done by him. He afterwards devoted

even greater care to the study of the anatomy of men, aiding and being

aided by M. Marcantonio della Torre, a profound philosopher, who then

professed at Padua and wrote

(1) The full quotation runs: "Tu sai lesser mio E l'amor di saper che m'ha

si acceso Che l'opra e ritardata dal desio." (Trionfo d'Amore, cap. 3. II.

7-9.)

upon the subject. I have heard it said that he was one of the first who

began to illustrate the science of medicine, by the learning of Galen, and

to throw true light upon anatomy, up to that time involved in the thick

darkness of ignorance. In this lie was marvellously served by the genius,

work and hands of Lionardo, who made a book about it with red crayon

drawings1 outlined with the pen, in which he foreshortened and

portrayed with the utmost diligence. He did the skeleton, adding all the

nerves and muscles, the first attached to the bone, the others keeping it

firm and the third moving, and in the various parts he wrote notes in

curious characters, using his left hand, and writing from right to left, so

that it cannot be read without practice, and only at a mirror. A great part

of the sheets of this anatomy is in the hands of M. Francesco de Melzo, a

nobleman of Milan, who was a lovely child in Lionardo's time, who was

very fond of him, and being now a handsome and courteous old man, he

treasures up these drawings with a portrait of Lionardo. Whoever

succeeds in reading these notes of Lionardo will be amazed to find how

well that divine spirit has reasoned of the arts, the muscles, the nerves

and veins, with the greatest diligence in all things. N. N., a painter of

Milan, also possesses some writings of Lionardo, written in the same

way, which treat of painting and of the methods of design and colour.2

Not long ago he came to Florence to see me, wishing to have the work

printed. He afterwards went to Rome to put it in haiid, but I do not know

with what result.

To return to Lionardo's works. When Lioiiardo was at Milan the King of

France came there and desired him to do something curious; accordingly

he made a lion whose chest opened after he had walked a few steps,

discovering himself to be full of lilies. At Milan Lionardo took Salai 3 of

that city as his pupil. This was a graceful and beautiful youth with fine

curly hair, in which Lionardo greatly delighted. He taught him many

things in art, and some works which are attributed in Milan to Salai were

retouched by Lionardo. He returned to Florence, where he found that the

Servite friars had allotted to Filippino the picture of the high altar of the

Nunziata. At this Lionardo declared that he should like to have done a

similar thing. Filippino heard this, and being very courteous, he

withdrew. The friars, wishing Lionardo to paint it, brought him to their

house, paying all his expenses and those of his household. He kept them

like this for a long

(1) Now in tlie British Museum. (2) Trattato della Pittura, published in

1651. (3) Andrea Salaino.

time, but never began anything. At length he drew a cartoon of the

Virgin and St. Anne with a Christ, which not only filled every artist with

wonder, but, when it was finished and set up in the room, men and

women, young and old, flocked to see it for two days, as if it had been a

festival, and they marvelled exceedingly. The face of the Virgin displays

all the simplicity and beauty which can shed grace on the Mother of

God, showing the modesty and humility of a Virgin contentedly happy,

in seeing the beauty of her Son, whom she tenderly holds in her lap. As

she regards it the little St. John at her feet is caressing a lamb, while St.

Anne smiles in her great joy at seeing her earthly progeny become

divine, a conception worthy of the great intellect and genius of Lionardo.

This cartoon, as will be said below, afterwards went to France. He drew

Ginevra, the wife of Amerigo Benci, a beautiful portrait, and then

abandoned the work of the friars, who recalled Filippino, though he was

prevented from finishing it by death.

For Francesco del Giocondo Lionardo undertook the portrait of Mona

Lisa, his wife, and left it incomplete after working at it for four years.1

This work is now in the possession of Francis, King of France, at

Fontainebleau. This head is an extraordinary example of how art can

imitate Nature, because here we have all the details painted with great

subtlety. The eyes possess that moist lustre which is constantly seen in

life, and about them are those livid reds and hair which cannot be

rendered without the utmost delicacy. The lids could not be more

natural, for the way in which the hairs issue from the skin, here thick and

there scanty, and following the pores of the skin. The nose possesses the

fine delicate reddish apertures seen in life. The opening of the mouth,

with its red ends, and the scarlet cheeks seem not colour but living flesh.

To look closely at her throat you might imagine that the pulse was

beating. Indeed, we may say that this was painted in a manner to cause

the boldest artists to despair. Mona Lisa was very beautiful, and while

Lionardo was drawing her portrait he engaged people to play and sing,

and jesters to keep her merry, and remove that melancholy which

painting usually gives to portraits. This figure of Lionardo's has such a

pleasant smile that it seemed rather divine than human, and was

considered marvellous, an exact copy of Nature.

The fame of this divine artist grew to such a pitch by the excellence of

his works that all who delighted in the arts and

(1) 1503-06.

the whole city wished him to leave some memorial, and they

endeavoured to think of some noteworthy decorative work through

which the state might be adorned and honoured by the genius, grace and

judgment characteristic of his work. The great hall of the council was

being rebuilt under the direction of Giuliano da S. Gallo, Simone

Pollajuolo called Cronaca, Miclielagnolo Buonarroti and Baccio

d'Agnolo, by tlie judgment and advice of the gonfaloniere and leading

citizens, as will be related at greater length in another place, and being

finished with great speed, it was ordained by public decree that Lionardo

should be employed to paint some fine work. Thus the l,all was allotted

to him 1 by Piero Soderini, then gonfaloniere of justice. Lionardo began

by drawing a cartoon at the hall of the Pope, a place in S. Maria Novella,

containing the story of Niccolo Piccinino, captain of Duke Filippo of

Milan.2 Here he designed a group of horsemen fighting for a standard, a

masterly work on account of his treatment of the fight, displaying the

wrath, anger and vindictiveness of men and horses; two of the latter,

with their front legs involved, are waging war with their teeth no less

fiercely than their riders are fighting for the standard. One soldier,

putting his horse to the gallop, has turned round and, grasping the staff

of the standard, is endeavouring by main force to wrench it from the

hands of four others, while two are defending it, trying to cut the staff

with their swords; an old soldier in a red cap has a hand on the staff, as

he cries out, and holds a scimetar in the other and threatens to cut off

both hands of the two, who are grinding tlieir teeth and making every

effort to defend their banner. On the ground, between the legs of the

horses, are two foreshortened figures who are fighting together, while a

soldier lying prone has another over liim who is raising his arm as high

as he can to run his dagger with his utmost strength into his adversary's

throat; the latter, whose legs and arms are helpless, does what lie can to

escape death. The manifold designs Lionardo made for the costumes of

his soldiers defy description, not to speak of the scimetars and other

ornaments, and his iiicredible mastery of form and line in dealing with

horses, which he made better than any other master, with their powerful

muscles and graceful beauty. It is said that for designing the cartoon he

made an ingenious scaffolding which rose higher when pressed together

(1) In 1503. (2) The Battle of Anghari, in which the Florentines routed

the army of the Duke of Milan on 29 June, 1440.

and broadened out when lowered. Thinking that he could paint on the

wall in oils, he made a composition so thick for laying on the wall that

when he continued his painting it began to run and spoil what had been

begun, so that in a short time he was forced to abandon it.

Lionardo had a high spirit and was most generous in every action. It is

said that when he went to the bank for the monthly provision that he

used to receive from Piero Soderini, the cashier wanted to give him

some rolls of farthings, but he would not take them, saying that he was

not a painter for farthings. Learning that Piero Soderini accused him of

deceiving him and that murmurs rose against him, Lionardo with the

help of his friends collected the money and took it back, but Piero would

not accept it. He went to Rome with Duke Giuliano de' Medici on the

election of Leo X.,1 who studied philosophy and especially alchemy. On

the way he made a paste with wax and constructed hollow animals

which flew in the air when blown up, but fell when the wind ceased. On

a curious lizard found by the vine-dresser of Belvedere he fastened

scales taken from other lizards, dipped in quicksilver, which trembled as

it moved, and after giving it eyes, a horn and a beard, he tamed it and

kept it in a box. All the friends to whom he showed it ran away terrified.

He would often dry and purge the guts of a wether and make them so

small that they might be held in the palm of the hand. In another room

he kept a pair of smith's bellows, and with these he would blow out one

of the guts until it filled the room, which was a large one, forcing anyone

there to take refuge in a corner. The fact that it had occupied such a little

space at first only added to the wonder. He perpetrated many such

follies, studied mirrors and made curious experiments to find oil for

painting and varnish to preserve the work done. At this time he did a

small picture for M. Baldassare Turini of Pescia, the datary of Leo, of

the Virgin and Child, with infinite diligence and art. But to-day it is

much spoiled either by neglect or because of his numerous fanciful

mixtures and the colouring. In another picture he represented a little

child, marvellously beautiful and graceful, both works being now at

Pescia in the possession of M. Giulio Turini. It is said that, on being

commissioned by the Pope to do a work, he straightway began to distil

oil and herbs to make the varnish, which induced Pope Leo to say: "This

man will never do anything, for he begins to think of the end before the

beginning

(1) This was in I5I3, but Lionardo did not go till 1515.

There was no love lost between him and Michelagnolo Buonarroti, so

that the latter left Florence owing to their rivalry, Duke Giuliano

excusing him by saying that he was summoned by the Pope to do the

facade of S. Lorenzo. When Lionardo heard this, he left for France,

where the king had heard of his works and wanted him to do the cartoon

of St. Ane in colours. But Lionardo, as was his wont, gave him nothing

but words for a long time. At length, having become old, he lay sick for

many months, and seeing himself near death, he desired to occupy

himself with the truths of the Catholic Faith and the holy Christian

religion. Then, having confessed and shown his penitence with much

lamentation, he devoutly took the Sacrament out of his bed, supported

by his friends and servants, as he could not stand. The king arriving, for

he would often pay him friendly visits, he sat up in bed from respect,

and related the circumstances of his sickness, showing how greatly he

had offended God and man in not having worked in his art as he ought.

He was then seized with a paroxysm, the harbinger of death, so that the

king rose and took his head to assist him and show him favour as well as

to alleviate the pain. Lionardo's divine spirit, then recognising that he

could not enjoy a greater honour, expired in the king's arms, at the age of

seventy-five. The loss of Lionardo caused exceptionall grief to those

who had known him, because there never was a man who did so much

honour to painting. By the splendour of his magnificent mien he

comforted every sad soul, and his eloquence could turn men to either

side of a question. His personal strength was prodigious, and with his

right hand he could bend the clapper of a knocker or a horseshoe as if

they had been of lead. His liberality warmed the hearts of all his friends,

both rich and poor, if they possessed talent and ability. His presence

adorned and] honoured the most wrethchied and bare apartment. Thus

Florence received a great gift in the birth of Lionardo, and its loss in his

death was immeasurable. To the art of painting he added a type of

darkness to the style of colouring in oils whereby thie moderns have

imparted great vigour and relief to their figures. He proved his powers in

statuary in three figures in bronze over the door of S. Giovanni on the

north side. They were executed by Gio. Francesco Rustici, but under

Lionardo's direction, and are thie finest casts for design and general

perfection that have as yet been seen. To Lionardo wve owe a greater

perfection in the anatomy of horses and men. Thus, by his many

surpassing gifts, even though he talked much more about his

in armour, a remarkab!e work, unequalled for its beauty, and that the

general took it away with him. Giorgione did many other fine portraits

which are scattered throughout Italy, as may be seen by that of Lionardo

Loredano,‚done when he was doge, seen by me on exhibition one

Ascension Day, so that I seemed to see that most serene prince alive.

There is yet another at Faenza, in the house of Giovannni di Castel

Polognese,1 an excellent carver of cameos and crystals, done for his

father-inlaw. This is indeed a divine work for the soft blending of the

colours, and it seems in relief rather than painted. Giorgione was very

fond of painting in fresco, and among many things did all one side of Ca

Soranzo on the piazza of S. Paolo, where, in addition to many pictures,

scenes and other fancies, there is one done in oils upon lime, which has

preserved it from the rain, sun and wind, so that it still exists. There is a

Spring, which I think one of the loveliest works in fresco, and it is a

great pity that time has injured it so cruelly. Personally I know of

nothing that injures fresco so much as the scirocco, especially near the

sea, where it always brings some saltness with it.

In the year I504 there was a terrible fire 2 at Venice, in the Fondaco de'

Tedeschi at the Rialto bridge, which consumed all the merchandise,

inflicting great loss upon the merchants. The Signoria of Venice directed

that it should be rebuilt, and it was speedily finished, with more

convenient dwelling-rooms, greater magnificence, decoration and beauty

than before. The fame of Giorgione being now considerable, those in

charge of the building decided that he should paint it in fresco, colouring

it according to his fancy, in order to display his ability in producing an

excellent work, the site being the finest and the best position in all the

city. Accordingly Giorgione set to work,3 but with no other purpose than

to make figures at fancy to display his art, for I cannot discover what

they mean, whether they represent some ancient or modern story, and no

one has been able to tell me. Here is a lady and there a man, in various

attitudes, one has a lion's head hard-by, another an angel in the guise of a

cupid, and I cannot tell what it means. There is certainly a woman over

the principal door towards the Merzeria seated, with the head of a dead

giant beneath, almost like a Judith. She is raising the head with a sword

and speaking to a German below. I cannot explain this in any way unless

he wished her to represent Germania. However, we see his figures well

(1) Giovanni Bernardi. (2) On 28 January, 1505, new style. (3) In I507.

grouped and that he was always improving. There are heads and parts of

figures which are excellently done and brilliantly coloured. Giorgione

was careful in all that he did there to copy straight from living things,

and not to imitate any one style. This building is celebrated and famous

in Venice no less for these paintings than for its convenience for

commerce and utility to the public. He did a picture of Christ bearing the

Cross and a Jew dragging him along, which, after a time, was placed in

the church of S. Rocco,1 and now works miracles, as we see, through the

devotion of the multitudes who visit it. He worked at various places,

such as Castelfranco in the Trevisano, and did several portraits for

various Italian princes, while many of his works were sent out of Italy as

things of distinction, to show that if Tuscany overflowed with artists in

all ages, Heaven had not entirely~orgotten or passed over the district

near the mountains.

Giorgione Is said to have once engaged in an argument with some

sculptors at the time when Andrea Verrocchio was making his bronze

horse. They maintained that sculpture was superior to painting, because

it presented so many various aspects, whereas painting only showed one

side of a figure. Giorgione was of opinion that a painting could show at a

single glance, without it being necessary to walk about, all the aspects

thq t a man can present in a number of gestures, while sculpture can only

do so if one walks about it. He offered in a singlc view to show the front

and back and the two sides of a figure in painting, a matter which greatly

excited their curiosity. He accomplished this in the following way. He

painted a nude figure turning its back; at its feet was a limpid fount of

water, the reflection from which showed the front. On one side was a

burnished corselet which had been taken off, and gave a side view,

because tile shining metal reflected everything. On the other side was <`t

looking-glass, showing the other side of the figure, a beautiful and

ingenious work to prove that painting demands more skil and pains, and

shows to a single view more than sculpture does. This work was greatly

admired and praised for its ingcliuity and beauty. Giorgione also drew a

portrait of Catherine, (?uccn of Cyprus; which I have seen in the hands

of the most excellent M. Giovan. Cornaro. In our book there is a head

coloured in oils of a German of the house of Fugger, then one of the

foremost merchants of the Fondaco dei Tedeschi. This marvellous work

is accompanied by other pen-and-ink sketches and designs of his.

(1) Modern critics accept this as a work of the master, but in the Life of

Titian, Vasari ascribes it to that artist.

Whilst Giorgione was doing honour to his country and to himself, he

went frequently into society to entertain his numerous friends with

music, and fell in love with a lady, so that they became greatly

enamoured of each other. However, in I5I‚I, she caught the plague, and

Giorgione, being ignorant of this, associated with her as usual, took the

infection, and died soon after at the age of thirty-four, to the infinite

grief of his numerous friends, who loved him for his talents, and damage

to the world which lost him. They were the better able to support the loss

because he left behind two excellent pupils, Sebastiano of Venice,

afterwards friar vi the Piombo at Rome, and Titian of Cadore, who not

only equalled but far excelled his master. I shall have occasion to speak

of these hereafter, and of the honour and benefit which they have

conferred upon art.