Prefatory Note
In this interesting treatise a German writer has made an attempt, and a curiously successful one, to deal with the great period of the High Renaissance in Italy from a somewhat novel point of view — that, in fact, of the craftsman himself, rather than that of the interpreter. Passing over the anecdotic and historical aspects of schools and periods, he has made a synthetic study of that completed form of art which has been described — mistakenly, he contends— as a return to classic ideals brought about by the discovery of antique models. He has confined himself for purposes of demonstration to the works of the great masters of Central Italy. The book is of modest dimensions, and its author does not claim to have dealt exhaustively with his vast theme, but rather to be one of the pioneers in a field that has been strangely neglected by arthistorians and the newest school of art-critics — the field of pure aesthetics. Insisting strongly on the necessity of systematic work on this fruitful ground, Herr Wolfflin does not wander haphazard among the artistic phenomena of the period. The whole question of colour, for instance, has been left for future consideration. He deals here with problems of form alone. From this point of view he has given us an excellent treatise viii
PREFATORY NOTE on composition, or design, to use that word in its widest sense, dealing chiefly with the character and action of figures, and the pattern made by them. The result is a trustworthy guide to the minds of those painters who belonged to the Schools of Florence and Rome — the schools of pure design, as distinguished from those which placed their chief dependence on colour and chiaroscuro. Speaking broadly, his reasoning is the unconscious reasoning of the painter put into words, so that he conveys to the reader the whys and wherefores of things from the artist's own standpoint. Anyone reading Herr Wolffiin carefully may fairly assume that he is following the workings of Raphael's mind as he built up things like the Disjmta, the School of Athens and the Madonna di San S'lsto.
WALTER ARMSTRONG.
Contents
PACE
Introduction
Classic Art 1
Part I
I. Preliminary Survey 7
TI. Leonardo 25
1. The Last Supper 29
2. The Monna Lisa 35
3. St. Anne with the Virgin and the Infant Christ 40
4. The Battle of Anghiari 42
III. Michelangelo (to 1520) 46
1. Early Works 47
2. The Ceiling of the Sistine Chapel 58
3. The Prophets and Sibyls 64
4. The Slaves 67
5. The Tomb of Julius 72
IV. Raphael 78
1. The Marriage of the Virgin and the Entombment 80
2. The Florentine Madonnas 85
3. The Camera della Segnatura 90
The Disputa 92
The School of Athens 96
Parnassus 99
Jurisprudence 102
X
CONTENTS
PAGE
IV. Raphael (continued)
4. The Camera d'Eliodoro 103
The Chastisement of Heliodorus 104
The Deliverance of Peter 106
The Mass of Bolsena 108
5. The Cartoons for Tapestries 111
6. The Roman Portraits 120
7. Roman Altar-pictures 131
V. Fra Bartolommeo 143
VI. Andrea del Sarto 157
1. The Frescoes of the Annunziata 158
2. The Frescoes of the Scalzo 162
3. Madonnas and Saints 169
4. A Portrait of Andrea 177
VII. Michelangelo (after 1520) 185
1. The Chapel of the Medici 185
2. The Last Judgment and the Pauline Chapel 194
3. The Decadence 195
Part II
I. The New Feeling 201
II. The New Beauty 225
III. The New Pictorial Form 247
1. Repose, Space, Mass and Size 248
2. Simplification and Lucidity 251
3. Enrichment 263
4. Unity and Inevitability 275
Conclusion 284
I
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGK
Portrait of Count Castiglione, by Raphael Frontispiece
David, by Donatello 12
David, by Yerrocchio 13
Madonna. Relief by Rossellino 14
Angel bearing Candelabrum, by Luca della Robbia 15
Angel bearing Candelabrum, by Benedetto da Majano 16
Allegory of Spring, by Botticelli 17
Raphael's Madonna di Foligno. From Marc Antonio's
engraving 23^
Study of a Girl's Head, by Leonardo da Vinci 27
The Last Supper, by Ghirlandajo 30
The Last Supper, from an engraving by Marc Antonio 3S
Bust of a Florentine Girl, by Desiderio 35
Portrait of Monna Lisa, by Leonardo da Vinci 37
St. Anne with the Virgin and Infant Christ, by Leonardo
da Vinci 41
Abundantia, by Gianpietrino 45-
Pieta, by Michelangelo 47
The Madonna of Bruges, by Michelangelo 48
Madonna and Child, by Benedetto da Majano 49 f
LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
Madonna with the Book. Relief by Michelangelo 50
Holy Family, by Michelangelo 51
David, by Michelangelo 54
Apollo, by Michelangelo 55 Fragment from the Cartoon of the Bathing Soldiers, by
The Erythraian Sibyl, by Michelangelo 66 Figures of Slaves, by Michelangelo. (From the first group) 68 Figures of Slaves, by Michelangelo. (From the third group) 69
Figure of a Slave, by IVlichelangelo 70
Tomb of the Cardinal of Portugal, by Antonio Rossellino 73
Tomb of a Prelate, by Andrea Sansovino 75 The Virgin with SS. Sebastian and John the Baptist, by
Perugino 79
The Entombment, by Perugino 82
The Entombment, by Raphael 83
The Madonna del Granduca, by Raphael 86
The Madonna della Sedia, by Raphael 87
The Madonna del Cardellino, by Raphael 88
The Madonna della Casa Alba, by Raphael 89
The Deliverance of St. Peter, by Domenichino 107
The Miraculous Draught of Fishes 113
Feed my Lambs " 115
The Death of Ananias 117
Portrait of Francesco dell' Opere, by Perugino 123
Portrait of a Cardinal, by Raphael 125
The Violin-Player, by Sebastiano del Piombo 127
Dorothea (Portrait), by Sebastiano del Piombo 129
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
PAGE
La Donna Velata, by Raphael 131
Madonna with two kneehng Saints, by Albertinelli 135
The Transfiguration, by Giovanni Bellini 138
Fragment from the Transfiguration, by Raphael 139
The Transfiguration, by L. Carracci 141
Vintage. From the Engraving by Marc Antonio 142 The Virgin appearing to St. Bernard, by Fra Bartolommeo 147
Madonna with Saints, by Fra Bartolommeo 149 The Risen Christ with the Four Evangelists, by Fra
Bartolom m eo 152
Pieta, by Fra Bartolommeo 153
The Holy Trinity, by Albertinelli. 154
The Annunciation, by Albertinelli 155
The Birth of the Virgin, by Andrea del Sarto 159
The Preaching of John the Baptist, by Andrea del Sarto 164
The Preaching of John the Baptist, by Ghirlandajo 165
Salome Dancing before Herod, by Andrea del Sarto 167
Justice, by A. Sansovino 169
The Annunciation, by Andrea del Sarto 170
The Madonna delle Arpie, by Andrea del Sarto 171
Disputa, by Andrea del Sarto 172 The Madonna with six Saints (1524), by Andrea del Sarto 174
The Madonna del Sacco, by Andrea del Sarto 175
St. John the Baptist, by Andrea del Sarto 177
Supposed Portrait of Himself, by Andrea del Sarto ] 79
Portrait of a Youth, by Franciabigio 183
The Tomb of Lorenzo de' Medici, with the figures of
Morning and Evening, by Michelangelo 187 xiv
LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
The Medici Madonna, by Michelangelo 190
Crouching Boy, by Michelangelo 191
Christ, by Michelangelo 192
An Allegory, by Bronzino 193
Venus and Amor {II Giorno), by Vasari 197
The Adoration of the Shepherds, by P. Tibaldi 198
Baptism of Christ, by Yerrocchio 202
Baptism of Christ, by A. Sansovino 203
Pieta. (From Marc Antonio's engraving after Raphael) 205
The Visitation, by Sebastiano del Piombo 207
Madonna and Child with Angels, by Filippino Lippi 216
The youthful St. John Preaching, by Raphael 224
The Birth of John the Baptist, by Ghirlandajo 226 Tobias with the Angel, by Verrocchio ( ?) (or perhaps
Botticini) 227
Attendant carrying Fruit, by Ghirlandajo 228
Woman carrying Water, by Raphael 229
Venus, by Lorenzo di Credi 230
Venus, by Franciabigio (?) 231
La bella Simonetta, by Piero di Cosimo 232
Vittoria Colonna (so-called), by Michelangelo 233
Allegory, by Filippino Lippi 240
Venus. (Copy from Marc Antonio's engraving) 246 Three Female Saints (fragment), by Sebastiano del Piombo 253
Prudence, by Pollaiuolo 256
Reclining Venus (fragment), by Piero di Cosimo 260
Reclining Venus, by Titian 261
Perseus (cast), by Benvenuto Cellini 264
LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS
XV
PAGE
Giovannino. in the Berlin Museum 265
St. Cosmo, by Montorsoli 266
St. John the Baptist, by J. Sansovino 267
Madonna with eight Saints, by Andrea del Sarto 268
Madonna with Angels and six Saints, by Botticelli 269
Madonna with the two SS. John, by Botticelli 274
The Death of Peter Martyr, by Gentile Bellini (?) 278
The Death of Peter Martyr, by Titian 279
St. Jerome, by Basaiti 280
St. Jerome, by Titian 281
Holy Family, by Bronzino 285
INTRODUCTION
CLASSIC ARTi
The word " classic" has a somewhat chilly sound. It seems to thrust
us out of the brilliant, living world into an airless space, the abode of
shadows, not of human beings with warm red blood. Classic Art represents
for us eternal death, eternal age, the fruit of the academies, a product of
teaching rather than of life. And our thirst for the living, the actual,
the tangible is so insatiable ! The art the modern man demands is an art
that savours of earth. The Quattrocento, and not the Cinquecento, is the
darling age of our generation ; we love its frank sense of reality, its naivete
of vision and emotion. We readily take a few archaisms of expressions
into the bargain, so pleasant is it to admire and to smile at the same time.
The traveller at Florence pores with unquenchable delight over the pictures
of the old masters, who tell their story so artlessly and sincerely that
he feels himself transported into the cheerful Florentine room where a
woman receives her visitors after child-birth, or into the streets and squares
of the mediaeval city where the people stand about, and whence one or the
other of the actors in the scene looks out of the picture at us with a
vitality positively startling. Everyone knows Ghirlandajo's paintings in
Santa Maria Novella. How gaily the artist sets forth the legends of the
Virgin and of St. John, telling the story in a homely, but not a sordid
fashion, showing life under its holiday aspect, with a healthy delight in
colour and profusion, costly raiment and ornaments, rich architecture and
plenishings. What could be daintier than Filippino's picture in the Badia,
^ It will, of course, be understood that throughout this work, the author uses the term "Classic Art" in a special sense, applying it to the Art of the High Renaissance in Italy.— Tr.
B of the Madonna appearing to St. Bernard., and laying her slender hand on his book ? And what an aroma of Nature breathes from the lovely girl-angels who attend the Virgin, and press forward, timid yet inquisitive, behind her mantle, their hands mechanically folded in the attitude of prayer, as they look wonderingly at the strange man. Before Botticelli's charm even Raphael himself must yield, and he who has once fallen under the spell of his sensuous melancholy will be apt to find a Madonjia della Sedia uninteresting.
The early Renaissance calls up a vision of slender-limbed, virginal figures in variegated robes, blooming meadows, floating veils, spacious halls with wide arches on graceful pillars. It means all the fresh vigour of youth, shining eyes, all that is bright, transparent, lively, cheerful, natural and varied. Pure nature, yet nature with a touch of fairy splendour.
We pass unwillingly and distrustfully from this gay and many-coloured world into the still and stately halls of classic art. What manner of men are these ? Their gestures seem strange to us. We miss the child-like unconscious charm of a more intimate art. Here there is no one who looks at us like an old friend. Here are no cosy rooms with homely utensils scattered about, but colourless walls and massive architecture.
Indeed, the modern Northerner approaches works of art such as the School of Athens so wholly unprepared for their enjoyment, that his embarrassment at a first sight of them is not unnatural. We can hardly blame him, if he secretly asks himself why Raphael did not rather choose to paint a Roman flower- market, or some such animated scene as that of the peasants coming to be shaved on Sunday mornings in the Piazza Montanara. The artistic problems solved in those other works have no points of contact with modern dilettantism, and we, with our archaic predilections, are fundamentally incapable of appreciating these masterpieces of form. We delight in primitive simplicity. We enjoy the hard, childishly clumsy construction, the jerky, breathless style of the precursors, and neither understand nor value the artistically rounded, sonorous periods of their successors.
But even when the thesis is more familiar, as when the Cinquecentists treat the old simple themes of the Gospel cycle, the indifference of the public is still comprehensible. It feels itself on insecure ground, and cannot tell whether it should accept the gestures and ideas of classic art as genuine. It has had to swallow so much false classicism, that it turns with
INTRODUCTION zest to coarser but purer fare. We have lost faith in the grandiose. We
have become weak and distrustful, and evervwhere we detect theatrical
sentiment and empty declamation.
And the factor that counts for most in our distrust is the perpetual
suggestion that this art is not original, that it derives from the antique, f that the marble world of the buried past laid a deathly hand on the I blooming life of the Renaissance.
I Yet classic art is but the natural sequence of the Quattrocento, a i perfectly spontaneous manifestation of the Italian genius. It was not the outcome of imitation of a foreign exemplar — the antique — it was no |[ product of schools, but a hardy growth, springing up at a period of most 1 vigorous life.
This correlation has been obscured for us, because — and herein perhaps lies the real ground of the prejudice against Italian classicism — a purely
(national movement has been taken for universal, and forms which have life and meaning only under certain skies and on certain soil have been reproduced under whollv different conditions. The art of the High i Renaissance in Italy is Italian art, and its idealisation of reality was after ]| all, but an idealisation of Italian realities.
Vasari himself so divided his work as to open a new section with the ' sixteenth century, that period in relation to which the earlier stages were to appear but as preliminary and preparatory. He begins the third division of his art-history with Leonardo. Leonardo's Last Supper was painted in the last decade of the fifteenth century. It was the first great work of the new art. ^Michelangelo made his (Uhit at the same time. I Nearly twenty-five years younger than the Milanese, he too had new things to say in his very first works. Fra Bartolommeo was his contemporary. Raphael followed at an interval of about ten years, and Andrea del Sarto came close upon him. Broadly speaking, the first twenty-five years of the sixteenth century are taken as representative of the classic evolution in Romano-Florentine art.
It is not altogether easy to take a general survey of this epoch. Familiar as its masterpieces have been made to us from our youth up by means of engravings and reproductions of all kinds, it is only by slow degrees that we can form a coherent and lively idea of the world that bore these fruits. It is otherwise with the Quattrocento. The fifteenth century still lives before our eyes in Florence. ^luch has disappeared.
'1 much has been removed from its natural setting to the prisons of the museums, but still, there are many places left in which one seems to breathe the very air of the period. The Cinquecento is represented in more fragmentary fashion ; in ftict, it never achieved complete expression. In Florence one feels that the vast substructure of the Cinquecento lacks its crown. The final development is not clearly apparent. I am not alluding to the early removal of easel pictures, in consequence of which there is very little of Leonardo's left in Italy, but to the dissipation of forces that took place in the very beginning. Leonardo's Last Supper, which belongs incontrovertibly to Florence, was painted for Milan. Michelangelo became half-Roman, Kaphael wholly so. But among their Roman achievements are the Sistine ceiling, an absurdity, a penance to the artist and the spectator, and those paintings Raphael was obliged to execute on walls in the Vatican, where no one can see them properly. Of the rest, how much was actually finished, how much of the short period of perfection went further than the initial project, and how much escaped immediate destruction 't Leonardo's Last Su])per itself is a wreck. His great battle-piece, destined for Florence, was never completed, and even the cartoon is lost. Michelangelo's Bathing Soldiers shared the same fate. Of the tomb of Julius II., only two figures were executed, and the facade of San Lorenzo, which was to have been a mirror reflecting the soul of Tuscan architecture and sculpture, was never carried out. The Medici Chapel is only a partial compensation ; already it verges on the baroque. Classic art has left us no monument in the great style, in which architecture and sculpture are welded together for perfect expression ; and the great achievement of architecture, in which all the artistic forces of the age combined, St. Peter's at Rome, Avas destined after all to be no true monument of the High Renaissance.
Classic art then may be likened to the ruins of an unfinished building, the original form of which must be reconstructed from fragments widely scattered and from imperfect tradition, and there is perhaps much justice in the assertion that in all the history of Italian art there is no more obscure epoch than that of its golden age.
PAET I
I
PRELBIINAllY SURVEY
Italian Painting begins with Giotto. It was he who loosened the tongue of art. AA^hat he painted has a voice, and what he relates becomes an experience. He explored the wide circle of human emotion, he discoursed of sacred history and the legends of the saints, and everywhere of actual, living things. The heart of the incident is always plucked out, the scene, with its effect upon the beholders, is always brought before us, just as it must have taken place. Giotto, like the preachers and poets of the school of St. Francis of Assisi, undertook to expound the sacred story, and to elucidate it by intimate details ; but the essence of his achievement is to be found, not in poetic invention, but in pictorial presentment, in the rendering of things that no one had hitherto been able to give in painting. He had an eye for the speaking elements of a scene, and perhaps painting never made such a sudden advance in expressive power as in his time. Giotto must not be looked upon as a kind of Christian Romantic, who bore about in his pocket the outpourings of a Franciscan brother, and whose art had blossomed under the inspiration of that infinite love bv which the Saint of Assisi drew heaven down to earth, and made the world an Eden. He was no enthusiast, but a man of realities ; no poet, but an observer ; an artist who is never carried away by the ardour of his eloquence, but whose speech is always limpid and expressive.
Others surpassed him in fervour of emotion and in force of passion. Giovanni Pisano, the sculptor, shows more soul in his more inflexible material than the painter Giotto. The story of the Annunciation could not have been more tenderly told in the spirit of that age than by Giovanni in his relief on the pulpit at Pistoja, and in his more passionate scenes there is something of Dante's fiery spirit. But this very quahty was his undoing. He forced expression too far. The desire to express emotion destroyed the sense of form, and the master's art ran riot.
Giotto is cahner, cooler, more equable. His popularity will never wane, for all can understand him. The rough traits of national life appealed to him more strongly than its refinements, and he sought his effects in clarity rather than in beauty of line. His works are curiously lacking in that harmonious sweep of draperies, those rhythmic movements and attitudes which constituted style in his generation. Compared with those of Giovanni Pisano, they are clumsy, and with those of Andrea Pisano, the master of the brazen gates of the Baptistery at Florence, absolutely ugly. The grouping of the two women who embrace and the servant attending them in Andrea's Vwitation, is a sculptured melody. Giotto's rendering is hard, but extraordinarily expressive. One does not easily forget the line of his Elizabeth bending down to look into the Virgin's face (Chapel of the Arena, Padua) ; whereas of Andrea's group one retains but a vague impression of harmonious curves.
Giotto's art reached its highest expression in the frescoes of Santa Croce. In clarity of representation he here went beyond all his earlier works, and in composition he essayed effects which entitle him, in intention at least, to rank beside the masters of the sixteenth century. His own immediate successors could not understand this aspect of his art. Simplicity and concentration were again abandoned ; painters desired above all things to be rich and varied ; in the effort to be profound, they produced pictures that were confused and ambiguous. Then, at the beginning of the fifteenth century, a painter appeared who set things right by his vigorous initiative, and determined the pictorial aspects of the visible world. This master was Masaccio.
The student at Florence should not fail to see Masaccio immediately after Giotto, in order to note the difference in all its intensity. The contrast is amazing.
Vasari makes a remark about Masaccio, which has a somewhat trivial and obvious sound. " He recognised that painting is but the imitation of things as they are." ^ One might ask why the same should not have been said of Giotto. The sentence has probably a meaning deeper than the superficial one. What now seems to us a connnonplace — that painting 1 Vasari, Le Vite (ed. Milanesi), II. 288.
should give an impression of reality — was not always an axiom. There was a time when this requirement was quite unknown, and for the sufficient reason, that it was believed to be essentially impossible to suggest the tactile quality of material objects on a flat surface. This was the received opinion of the whole mediaeval period. Men were content with a representation that merely suggested objects and their relation to one another in space, without any idea of inviting a comparison with Nature. It is a mistake to suppose that a mediaeval picture was ever approached with our preconceptions of illusory effect. It was undoubtedly one of the greatest advances achieved by humanity, when this limitation was recognised as prejudicial, and when men began to believe that it might be possible to achieve something which should come near to the actual impression made by Nature, though the effects might be produced by very different means. No one man could have brought about such a re-adjustment of ideas. A single generation indeed could not suffice. Giotto did something towards it; but Masaccio added so much, that he was very justly described as the first artist Mho attained to " the imitation of things as they are.""
First of all, he amazes us by his thorough mastery of the problems of space. In his hands for the first time a picture became a stage, in the construction of which a certain fixed point of sight was kept steadily in view, a space in which persons, trees and houses had then- duly and geometrically determined places. In Giotto's works everything was still massed together ; he superimposed head above head, without asking himself how their respective bodies Avere to find places, and the architecture of the background has the appearance of unsubstantial stage scenery, bearing no sort of actual proportion to the figures. Masaccio not only portrays possible, habitable houses, but gives a sense of space that extends to the last line of his landscapes. His point of sight is taken on a level with the heads, and the crowns of the heads of figures on the equal surfaces are therefore all of a height. This gives an extraordinary appearance of solidity to a row of three heads in profile, one behind the other, terminating perhaps with a fourth head, seen full-face. Step by step we are led into the depths of the given space ; everything is ranged in clearly defined strata, one behind the other. The student who wishes to see the new art in all its glory should go to Santa Maria Novella, and study the fresco of the Trinity. Here, by the aid of architecture, and the use of intersections, four zones are developed towards the background, and the illusion of space is astonishing. Beside this, Giotto's work looks absolutely flat. His frescoes in Santa Croce have the effect of a carpet ; the uniform blue of the sky suffices in itself to bind the various pictures together in a common effect of flatness. It would seem as if the artist had had no idea of laying hold of some element of reality ; the flat surface of the division is at best uniformly filled up to the top, as if the painter had been required to decorate it in some ornamental fashion. All round the design are bands with mosaic patterns, and when these patterns are again repeated in the picture itself, the imagination is not constrained to make any distinction between the frame and the thing enframed, and the suggestion of a flat wall-decoration becomes unpleasantly obtrusive. Masaccio enframes his scenes between painted pilasters, and seeks to produce the illusion of a continuation of the picture behind these.
Giotto barely indicates the shadows cast by solid bodies, and for the most part altogether ignores the shadow cast by a body in light upon a light ground. It was not that he had never noticed them, but that it seemed to him unnecessarv to insist upon them. He looked upon them as disturbing accidents in a picture, bv which the subject was in no wise elucidated. In Masaccio's hands, light and shade become elements of flrstrate importance. It seemed to him essential to render the actual condition of things, and to show the full force of natural effects on material objects. His manner of treating a head with a few vigorous indications of form gives a totally new impression. Bulk is expressed here with unprecedented power. And it is the same with all other forms. As a natural consequence of this treatment, the high tones of the earlier pictures with their shadowy effects give place to a more substantial system of colour.
The whole structure of pictures was consolidated, so to speak, and here we may appropriately quote another remark of Vasari's, to the effect that it was Masaccio who first made figures stand on their feet.
Besides this there is something else, the intensified feeling for the personal, for the peculiarities of the individual. Even Giotto differentiates his figures, but his are only general distinctions. Masaccio gives us clearly marked individual characteristics. The new age is termed the century of ' Realism.' The word has now passed through so many hands that it no longer has any clear meaning. Something proletarian clings to it, a semblance of bitter opposition, where coarse ugliness wishes to force itself in, and claims its rights, since it too exists in the world. The quattrocentist realism is, however, essentially joyous. It is the higher estimate, which brinies new elements. Interest is no Ioniser confined to the individual head, but the vast variety of individual attitudes and movements is included in the realm of worthy motives for representation, attention is given to the will and mood of each particular material, and the artist rejoices in the stubborn line. The old laws of beauty seemed to do violence to nature ; the swaying attitude, the varied modulations of the drapery, were felt to be merely beautiful phrases, of which men had become weary. A mighty need arose for reality, and if one thing shows sincere belief in the value of the newly comprehended sense of vision more strongly than another, it is the circumstance that even supernatural beings for the first time appear credible in earthly dress, with individual features, and without a trace of idealism in their representation.
It was not a painter, but a sculptor, in whom the new spirit was next destined to manifest itself most synthetically. Masaccio died young, and tl could therefore but briefly express himself, but Doxatkllo is a conspicuous j figure throughout the entire first half of the fifteenth century ; his works form a long series, and he is indisputably the most important personality of the Quattrocento. He took up the peculiar tasks of the time with unrivalled energy, and yet he was never carried away by the one-sidedness of an unbridled realism. He was a portrayer of men who pursued the characteristic form to the very depths of ugliness, and then again in all calm and purity, reproduced the image of a tranquil and bewitching beauty. There are statues of his in which he drains an abnormal individuality to the very dregs, as it were, and side by side with these are figures like the bronze David., where the High Renaissance feeling for beauty already rings out clear and true. He is withal a storyteller of unsurpassable vividness and dramatic force. A panel like the St. John relief at Siena may be fitly designated the best narrative of the century. At a later date, in the Miracles of' St. Anthou?j at Padua, he attacks veritable cinquecentist problems, introducing excited and dramatic crowds, which, compared with the quiet rows of bystanders in contemporary pictures, represent a really memorable anachronism.
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