Part 21 (2/2)
”Certainly; so modern that the author is still living--though one might say that he is dead.”
”What! I do not understand you. How can one say that he is dead when he is living?” and I could scarcely restrain the wonder and emotion that these singular words created in me.
”It is indeed a very sad fact, and is very much talked about; but it seems that the poor artist, so young and full of talent----”
[Sidenote: FILIPPO GUALTERIO.]
”Well?” I interrupted him suddenly.
”It seems that he is going mad.”
I was silent. These last words wounded me to the quick, and I remembered that during my past sufferings I too had a fear lest I should lose my head, but I never suspected that this idea had entered into the minds of others. I went out of the room without even saluting the young foreigner, and walked up and down in the open air, going over in my memory my past suffering, my voyage to Naples, the cure I had undergone, and my re-establishment in health both in body and spirit, and at last I became tranquil, and almost smiled in recalling this strange conversation with the young foreigner.
I set myself to work with good will, and threw down the first model of the Bacchino dell'Uva Malata, which I had left without casting in order to remake it according to a new conception that had come to me in Naples. Secure of the road I meant now to take, convinced in my principles, which in substance did not differ from those that had guided me in my first statues, I modelled with great rapidity the small Bacchus, the Bacchante, and a figure of the daughter of the Marchese Filippo Gualterio, lying dead.
I first made the acquaintance of Filippo Gualterio at Siena, in the house of my friend Count dei Gori, in the first revolutionary movement of 1847. He was a thorough gentleman, of careful education, a lover of art, an enthusiast for beauty, a facile writer of the moderate party, not then in favour of the unity of Italy, but attached heart and soul to the theories of Gioberti as set forth in the 'Primato.' Out of pique, on account of some annoyance he had received from the Pontifical Government, of which he was a subject, he exiled himself from his native country, Orvieto, and joined the revolutionary movement of Turin, Florence, and Genoa. Later he took a prominent part in the revolution of 1859, embraced the cause of unity, became Minister, and shortly after died of paralysis of the brain.
[Sidenote: PIETRO SELVATICO.]
The statuette of the Bacchino so much pleased my friend Pietro Selvatico, who happened to be in Florence precisely at the time when I finished it, that he made a drawing of it as a _souvenir_ in his alb.u.m.
This able writer and distinguished critic and historian of art was also an artist and accomplished draughtsman, or rather he was so until an obstinate disease in his eyes deprived them of that clearness of vision which is necessary to mastery as a draughtsman.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE NUDE--THE STATUE OF DAVID--RAUCH--THE BASE OF THE TAZZA--THE CHAPEL OF THE MADONNA DEL SOCCORSO--SEPULCHRAL MONUMENTS FOR SAN LORENZO--THE 27TH OF APRIL 1859--COUNT SCIPIONE BORGHESI--A GROUP OF THE DELUGE--COMPEt.i.tION FOR WELLINGTON'S MONUMENT, AND A GREAT HELP.
I began to work, as I have said, upon the figure of the Dead Girl, and upon the Bacchante, two subjects diametrically opposed to each other,--the Bacchante representing the festivity, the dance, the libations, and the weariness resulting from them; the Dead Girl, the innocence of a few short days of life, the repose and the joy of an eternal peace. This is a good method whereby to temper the expression and form of one's works, and I recommend it to young artists, since continually playing on the same string finally begets an annoyance and weariness, which exhibit themselves in the work. If the Bacchante had not been modified by this dead figure, which recorded an innocent life and a serene death, it might have degenerated and lost that beauty which is only to be found in what is good.
[Sidenote: THE NUDE.]
One other piece of advice. In conceiving and working out subjects which, in their intention as well as in the manner required to express them, tend towards sensuality, one should inspire one's self with a purely intellectual love. To this kind of love one should adhere tenaciously, for it is easy to go astray. Such love seizes, and desires, and prefers to attain what is good, in which is included all that is true and all that is beautiful; but the seductions of the senses veil the eyes of reason and light the fires of voluptuousness. Therefore we should be careful, in order that art, which is the mistress and mother of civilisation, should not lower itself to be the corrupter of taste and habits. It is not in the least in regard to nudity that we should be circ.u.mspect, but in regard to the conception, the expression, and the movement of the statue; in a word, to the state of mind, the idea, the interior condition of the artist. Thus, for instance, one may look at a figure entirely nude, like the Venus of the Capitol, and be impressed merely by a reverent admiration, or by quite the opposite sentiment. The purest and most sacred subjects, the most completely clothed figures,--as, for instance, a nun, or the Santa Teresa of Bernini,--may be impressed by an unequivocal sensuality. No! nudity does not offend modesty. If it did, all the works of Michael Angelo deserve condemnation; while on the contrary, as every one knows (I appeal for the truth of this to the most prudish; to the priests, to the popes, who ordered and placed in the churches the works of this divine man--and in so doing did well, though these figures, both male and female, are as naked as G.o.d made them), far from offending against decency in the least, they elevate the mind into regions so high and so ideal that their bodies are transfigured, so to speak, and clothed with a supersensual light in which there is nothing earthly.
[Sidenote: REMOVAL OF THE DAVID OF ANGELO.]
About this period the question began to be agitated in respect to the David of Michael Angelo. Already for some time artists and lovers of works of art had expressed a fear that this masterpiece should remain exposed to injury in the open air, and thus be subjected to constant deterioration. A commission was nominated to examine into the matter and prepare some manner of placing under shelter this celebrated work.
Professor Pasquale Poccianti, president of the commission, proposed that it should be removed and placed in the Loggia dell'Orgagna close by, under the great central arch. This proposition was supported strongly by Lorenzo Bartolini, who had expressed his opinion several years before in a letter addressed to Signor Giovanni Benericetti-Talenti, then Inspector of the Academy of Fine Arts, and which I have seen. The Grand Duke, a.s.sured by the opinion of such competent artists, ordered the statue to be removed and placed under the Loggia, in conformity with the advice of the commission, and with the plans presented for this end by Professor Poccianti. It was the intention of the Grand Duke to subst.i.tute for the colossus that he removed a copy of it in bronze, to be cast by Papi, and the order was given for making a mould and casting it. I was not on the commission for the removal; on the contrary, I was among those who did not believe in the injuries which the statue was supposed to be suffering. I did not think that there was any grave danger in allowing it to remain where it was, or that the cause that had produced the very apparent injury occasioned to the head and the left arm was constant dropping of water from the roof above; and as this had already been guarded against, it seemed to me inadvisable to remove it and withdraw it from public view. I remembered also to have read that Michael Angelo himself had strongly urged that it should be allowed to remain where he had placed it, and where he, in working at it, had harmonised it with its surroundings; for even then doubts were raised lest it might suffer injury in that position. And besides, I did not consider it prudent to remove such a colossal statue, both on account of the danger of the operation, and because I thought it impossible to find another place so favourable for artistic effect and historical significance. Therefore, when I learned that its removal had been decreed, I regretted it extremely. Information of this intention was given me by my friend Luigi Venturi, from whom I did not conceal my regret; and as the Grand Duke was well disposed towards me, I decided to go that very evening to the Pitti Palace and humbly submit all the arguments which induced me to oppose this removal of the David. He received me with his customary kindness, and imagining perhaps that I desired to speak with him about some work which I was doing for him on commission (of which I shall speak in its proper place), he said--
”Sit down, and tell me what you have to say.”
[Sidenote: ARGUMENTS AGAINST THE REMOVAL.]
”Your Imperial Highness, I have heard with great surprise that you intend to remove the David from where it now stands, and to place it under the Loggia dell'Orgagna.”
”Yes; that statue is, as you know, the masterpiece of Michael Angelo. It is suffering injury every day, and it is dangerous to leave it there exposed to the sun and the rain. It ought to be placed under cover, and the Loggia is not only so near as to render the operation of removal easy and safe, but it also is a most beautiful place, and with its great central arch will fitly frame this magnificent statue.”
I answered--”I also always have thought that this statue suffers from its exposure to the frost and sun--although the marble is from Fantiscritti, and is of most durable quality; and naturally the idea suggests itself to one that it would be better to remove it where it would not be subjected to this slow but certain deterioration. But the grave question which has always preoccupied my mind has been the difficulty of handling this colossus, so weak in its supports; and what renders this all the more difficult is the crack which is said to have been discovered in the leg upon which it stands, which is the weakest. I therefore think that if this crack exists, it const.i.tutes another and princ.i.p.al reason why the statue should not be touched. But independent of this difficulty, which practised and scientific persons might possibly overcome, there is the question as to where it should be placed. This colossus is made for the open air, and to be seen at great distances; and the place to which it is now proposed to a.s.sign it is not in the open air, and has not the light of the sky, but on the contrary, a light reflected from the earth, so that only the lower part would be illuminated, and in a negative sense--that is, from below upward, and not from above downward, as from the light of the sky. The upper part would in consequence remain in a half light, so as to divide the statue into two zones: the one which would be in the half light ought to be illuminated, and that which would be illuminated ought to be in graduated shadow. And again, there is no distance: from the sides it is not sufficient, and in front the statue would seem too high in consequence of the steps of the Loggia. Nor only this: if for the reasons I have stated the statue itself would suffer, the Loggia would suffer still more, and would be enormously sacrificed, and in consequence of the colossal proportions of the statue, its beautiful arches would be dwarfed; and still more----”
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