When stones speak

This is one of Leonardo da Vinci’s earliest paintings, The Annunciation. It shows the angel Gabriel arriving before the Virgin Mary with a message from God that she will conceive by the Holy Spirit and bear a son to be named Jesus.

The Annunciation, Leonardo da Vinci, Uffiz, Florence

What isn’t commonly known about this painting is that Leonardo embedded references to the three Abrahamic religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam. Not only that, he also made comparisons with Mary and Gabriel to two figures from Greek mythology, Athena Parthenos and her servant Nike.

Historians date the panel circa 1472-76, which would put Leonardo between the age of 20 to 24 when he completed the work. This would likely mean he was still serving as an apprentice in Andrea del Verrocchio’s workshop in Florence at the time.

However, for reasons which I shall explain in a future post, I believe the painting to have been produced at a later date than even 1476 and not within the workshop of Andrea del Verrocchio.

Some critics hold an opinion that parts of the composition are flawed, notably the length of Virgin’s right arm, and the angel’s wings have been extended at a later date. That may appear to be so, but was intentional on Leonardo’s part as the two items are linked in this way for a reason.

In a similar way it can be said that the width of the painting has been extended beyond a standard 2:1 format. The scene is clearly separated into two parts, the angel Gabriel on the left, the Virgin Mary on the right–both figures placed in their own squared domain. However, it is where the two areas butt to each other, a coming together, that Leonardo embedded a principal biblical message. The ‘extended’ end sections–the tail end of Gabriel’s red garment and the entrance to the building also present religious messages.

The centre line acts in part as a hinge so that the two areas are mirrored is some ways, serving or reflecting each other in parts.

A clue to this process is the column of quoins rising above the Virgin’s right hand. Like the two square sections of the painting the stones butt together, the small square stones representing half the size of the stones above and below. Coming together in this way they reinforce the structure and strength of the building. Placing stone upon stone (covering) is a clue to other narratives of overlap  presented in the painting.

One narrative associated with cornerstones is that they point to a passage from the Old Testament. Those on the left column above Mary’s right hand are shaped and mirrored to represent the letter E and the numeral 33. Those on the the right represent the numeral 2. Together they point to Exodus 33:2 and the words the Lord said to Moses: “I will send an angel in front of you” – the angel in the painting, Gabriel.

The Virgin Mary is shown seated in the corner between the two columns. This placing is a reference to the popular book on Christian meditation by Thomas á Kempis, The Imitation of Christ.

One of the quotes attributed to Thomas is: “I have sought everywhere for peace, but I have found it not, save in nooks and in books.” – often adapted to a shorter version: “In a little corner with a little book”. Hence why Mary, an imitation of Christ, is portrayed sat in a corner reading Holy Scripture.

Notice the window above the Virgin’s head. It’s a reference to the Ark of the Covenant which, according to the Book of Exodus, contained two stone tablets on which the Ten Commandments were written. The scroll (the window sill/seal) represents the written aspect. The two tablets are depicted within the window frame. It’s an open window designed to let the light shine on God’s word written in stone. Notice, too, the number of straight lines featured in the composition, a reference to the words of the prophet Isaiah (40:3), repeated by John the Baptist in John’s gospel (1:23), “Make a straight way for the Lord”.

Only sections of the two tablets are shown, cut off by the edge of the picture frame. This is a pointer to the time when Moses, in anger, broke the original tablets by throwing them to the ground at the foot of the mountain. He later went up Mount Sinai again where he was given a replacement set of the the Ten Commandments.

So Leonardo packed much into this section of his painting, but there’s more, a lot more, and in a future post I shall reveal more meanings to the window above the woman’s head and how it is key to uncovering a narrative in the Annunciation painting personal to Leonardo.

Renaissance Painting Discovery

A lost masterwork by a follower of the Italian Renaissance painter Filippino Lippi hidden in plain sight in a London bungalow has sold for £255,000 ($321,000) at Dawsons Auctioneers in London.

Follower of Filippino Lippi, The Depiction of the Madonna and Child, Photo Dawsons Auctioneers

The painting belonged to a woman in her 90s who moved to a nursing home last year. Her family enlisted Dawsons to evaluate the home and its contents as they began the process of selling the property to help cover her medical care.

More at artnet.com

A stretch at the Vatican

Last month, I pointed out that one of the identities Botticelli applied to the Primavera figure reaching up to touch the clouds is the painter Filippino Lippi who, at the time, was part of Botticelli’s workshop and a team of painters engaged to fresco the walls of the Sistine Chapel in Rome.

The photograph below showing scaffolding and people in the Chapel erecting a temporary display of Raphael’s tapestries on the lower section of the walls gives an idea of the height the artists from Florence had to work at when painting frescoes at the level above the curtained section.

The walls of the Sistine Chapel… photo © Vatican Museums
A cloud formation similar to the one in Botticelli’s Primavera painting.
This appears is the Sistine Chapel fresco titled Vocation of the Apostles.
Was Botticelli suggesting that Filippino Lippi was one of his ‘followers’.

So Botticelli’s portrayal of the figure with his arm raised can also be understood as a depiction of Filippino Lippi perhaps painting a cloud formation in one of the frescoes. His comfortable stance with hand on hip and right arm flexed is balanced, almost statuesque, and reminiscent of the contrapposto style of figure developed by Ancient Greco-Roman sculptors and revived during the Renaissance. It also points to the identity of another Florentine artist, the sculptor Donatello and his famous bronze of the biblical figure of David.

The self-portrait sketch of Michelangelo… Botticelli’s man of many identities… and Donatello’s bronze David

By coincidence this scenario later connects to yet another artist and sculptor from Florence – Michelangelo who, almost 50 years later, was commissioned to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, and just a few years after he had sculpted his own and probably more famous version of David. 

Sometime during the four year period painting the vault of the Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo complained of his physical discomfort and burden in a poetic letter to a friend. He illustrated the poem with a sketch very similar to the  stance of the figure portrayed by Botticelli in his Primavera painting. It would not be surprising that Michelangelo at some time may have had access to view and study the painting and had knowledge of its many narratives, even that the reaching figure represented Filippino Lippi.

The mention of Donatello also points to the Primavera figure being portrayed as Giuliano de’ Medici. Both men were entombed at the Basilica of San Lorenzo in Florence, and Lorenzo connects to the name of Giuliano’s brother who is portrayed as yet another of the figure’s identities which I shall explain in my next post. Chapels and churches is another theme to be found in the Primavera painting.

Below is a translation of Michelangelo’s poem.

I’ve grown a goitre by dwelling in this den–
As cats from stagnant streams in Lombardy,
Or in what other land they hap to be–
Which drives the belly close beneath the chin:
My beard turns up to heaven; my nape falls in,
Fixed on my spine: my breast-bone visibly
Grows like a harp: a rich embroidery
Bedews my face from brush-drops thick and thin.
My loins into my paunch like levers grind:
My buttock like a crupper bears my weight;
My feet unguided wander to and fro;
In front my skin grows loose and long; behind,
By bending it becomes more taut and strait;
Crosswise I strain me like a Syrian bow:
Whence false and quaint, I know,
Must be the fruit of squinting brain and eye;
For ill can aim the gun that bends awry.
Come then, Giovanni, try
To succour my dead pictures and my fame;
Since foul I fare and painting is my shame.

Making Assumptions…

A section of the Northern Wall in the Sistine Chapel and some of the frescoes depicting the Life of Christ

In my previous post about the Primavera I pointed out a connection between the painting and one of the frescos produced by Botticelli for the Sistine Chapel. In fact, the Primavera is linked to the series of wall frescos in more ways than one as they feature several notable Florentine dignitaries and artists in some of the scenes. So what could be the reason for this?

Giuliano de’ Medici by Sandro Botticlelli

In 1478 Giuliano de’Medici, the brother of Lorenzo the Magnifico, was assassinated while attending Mass at the Duomo in Florence. His brother was also attacked but survived. A bloodbath of retribution followed when the conspirators, members of the Pazzi family and associates, were slaughtered and executed. It is said that Pope Sixtus IV approved of the plot to overthrow the Medici family from power, but not their killing. A month after the event Sixtus IV excommunicated Lorenzo and others and placed Florence under interdict, forbidding Mass and Communion.

It wasn’t until December 1480 that some semblance of peace ensued between Lorenzo, Florence and  Sixtus IV, when a dozen distinguished Florentines travelled to Rome for a pre-arranged public ceremony that saw them plead for forgiveness from the pope for any perceived errors by the Republic. Lorenzo was not among the group. However, in an act of diplomacy and personal reconciliation, he later arranged to send artists from Florence to assist with producing frescos for the walls of the Sistine Chapel: Sandro Botticelli, Domenico Ghirlandaio, Pietro Perugini, Cosimo Rosselli and Luca Signorelli, along with assistants from their workshops including Filippino Lippi.

Domenico Ghirlandaio, Sandro Botticelli, Filippino Lippi, Pietro Perugini, Cosimo Rosselli and Luca Signorelli
Pope Sixtus IV

Botticelli, Ghirlandaio, Perugini, Rosselli, Signorelli and Lippi are all referenced in the Primavera painting, as is Sixtus IV. One notable Florentine artist at the time, Leonardo da Vinci, was not among the group of painters engaged to fresco the Sistine Chapel, although he is depicted in two of the panels. Reference is also made to Leonardo in the Primavera. From these connections it becomes clear that there is more to understand of the mystery associated with Botticelli’s Primavera other than a presentation of Greco-Roman mythology and its poetic influences.

I mentioned in an earlier post that an underlying narrative in Primavera is the religious period of Lent, meaning “spring season,” and that Lent is a time of reparation and renewal. I also pointed out here that the foremost identity of the figure normally recognised as Venus is that of the Virgin Mary. She has many titles attributed to her, one being Santa Maria del Fiore – Saint Mary of the Flower – the name given to Florence Cathedral known as the Duomo, hence one of the reasons for the dome-shaped backdrop to the figure.

The Duomo in Florence, the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore – Saint Mary of the Flower

Before the building and naming of the Santa Maria del Fiore, there were two other cathedrals built on the site. The first was dedicated to St Lorenzo (Lawrence), the second to St Reparata. Both saints connect to the Primavera, Lorenzo as a name linked to Lorenzo de’Medici who probably commissioned the painting, and Reparata linked to the narrative of Lent and reparation. The theme of restitution echoes the time when the 12 representatives of Florence repaired to Rome seeking forgiveness for the Republic’s past errors, and also to further reparation made with the work carried out later by the Florentine artists in the Sistine Chapel.

Primavera, c1482, by Sandro Botticelli, Uffizi Gallery, Florence

The question if often asked why the central figure is positioned further back than than those placed either side. But is she? The woman measures the same height as the other figures. A clue to the answer can be found in the pairing of Chloris and Zephyrus. Is the god of the east wind lowering or lifting Cloris? In the Virgin Mary’s case she is being lifted or raised above all others, and assumed into Heaven. She represents the Assumption, and this feature has a connection with the Sistine Chapel.

Covering the whole wall behind the altar in the Sistine Chapel is a fresco illustrating the Last Judgement, painted by Michelangelo between 1535 and 1541. However, the wall was originally frescoed by Pietro Perugino in the early 1480s showing the Assumption of the Virgin. It also portrayed Pope Sixtus IV kneeling among the group of Apostles. The Chapel was dedicated to the Assumption of Mary, on her feast day of that name, August 15, 1483.

A drawing made by Pinturicchio, one of Perugini’s assistants, of the lost Assumption of the Virgin,
Notice the apostle Peter, the first Pope, confirming the legitimacy and authority of Sixtus as Pope.

One of the most intriguing pieces of iconography in the Primavera painting is the arch formation of branches behind the Virgin. It represents multiple connecting narratives which I shall explain in my next post.