Tuscan Sculpture of the Fifteenth Century Part 3

THE INFANT JESUS AND ST. JOHN

BY MINO DA FIESOLE

Jesus and St. John the Baptist were of nearly the same age, and there was a peculiar tie between them. Their mothers, Mary and Elizabeth, were cousins, and before the boys were born the two women had confided in each other their hopes for the future of their children. Angelic messengers had predicted a remarkable destiny for both boys. Jesus was to rule over an everlasting kingdom, and John was to be his prophet preparing the way for him. These were secrets which the outside world could not have understood, and Mary paid a visit to her kinswoman that they might talk of them together.

As John's home was in the hill country and Jesus was born in the town of Bethlehem, we do not know how soon the boys met. It might be supposed that Mary and Elizabeth would be eager to bring them together. While the mothers took council on the training of their sons, the children would be at play.

The little ones were, we believe, brought up quite simply, with no sense that they were different from other children. Jesus was a natural leader. We remember how he surprised his mother at the age of twelve by a.s.serting his own judgment.[12] Among his playfellows he must have shown much earlier that he was the one to take the first place. John was doubtless taught by his mother to defer to his little cousin. He was not lacking in spirit himself, but he could sometimes be very humble. In his manhood he spoke of Jesus as one whose shoe's latchet he was not worthy to unloose.[13]

It is pleasant to picture the two children together in our fancy, and we do not wonder that artists have liked the subject.[14] Our ill.u.s.tration shows us the theme wrought in marble. The child Jesus sits on the steps, and the little St. John approaching kneels in adoration. We see at once the religious meaning of the artist: the relation between the two in after life is foreshadowed in this imaginary incident. Each child carries the symbol of his character. A halo behind the head of Jesus signifies his divine origin. He holds on his knee a globe surmounted by a cross, in token that he who was crucified shall be the ruler of the world. In the symbol of the globe the old artists antic.i.p.ated the later discoveries of science as to the form of the earth. Some of the ancient philosophers had taught that the earth is a sphere, and through the writings of Aristotle the belief was spread among the scholars of the Middle Ages.[15] That the idea made its way into art is perhaps because the sphere is the most perfect and beautiful form, and hence the fitting symbol of G.o.d's created work.[16]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE INFANT JESUS AND ST. JOHN (MINO DA FIESOLE) _Cathedral, Fiesole_]

St. John carries the cross, which is his usual emblem as a prophet of Christ. It is tall and slender because it was supposed to be made of reeds. The reference is to Jesus's words concerning John when asking the people if they had sought the prophet merely as "a reed shaken by the wind."

The infant Jesus is a vigorous child, straight and perfectly formed.

The little St. John is an older and taller boy, wearing a tunic. The younger child is delighted to have a playfellow. There is an eager smile on his face, and he puts out his right hand as if he longed to take the curious plaything St. John carries. Both children are plump, with well-shaped heads, but there is nothing precocious-looking about either. They are indeed uncommonly pretty, but for the rest are like other children, eying each other somewhat shyly in the early stages of acquaintance. It will not be long before they are the best of friends.

The figures in our ill.u.s.tration form a part of a marble altar-piece by Mino da Fiesole. The whole composition consists of three niches approached by steps. In the central compartment kneels the mother Mary, adoring with folded hands the child, who sits below her. We see in our picture only the lower part of her dress behind the Christ child. In the side niches are figures of saints, the little St. John kneeling in front of the one on the Madonna's right.

Mino da Fiesole has been called "The Raphael of sculpture," and his work in this altar-piece ill.u.s.trates the fitness of comparing him with the great painter. Especially do the figures of the two children here remind us of the child ideals of Raphael. At the time when this work was executed (1462) painters and sculptors had just begun to represent the Christ child undraped. The earlier artists had always shown the little figure clad in a tunic. We shall presently see how this old custom was still followed in bas-reliefs of the Madonna and Child by Luca della Robbia and Rossellino. The more progressive artists were unwilling to conceal the beauty of the child's figure by any sort of dress. By the beginning of the sixteenth century the old way had entirely given place to the new.[17]

In our picture we see that a Latin inscription on the base of the lowest step contains the name of Leonardo Salutati, bishop of Fiesole.

[18] It was by the order of this bishop that the altar was executed, as was also the tomb opposite it in the cathedral of Fiesole.

[Footnote 12: St. Luke, chapter ii., verse 49.]

[Footnote 13: St. Luke, chapter iii., verse 16.]

[Footnote 14: See Chapter IX., on the "Children of the Sh.e.l.l," in the volume on _Murillo_ in the Riverside Art Series.]

[Footnote 15: This is on the authority of a French writer, A.

Jourdain, quoted by William H. Tillinghast in an essay on the "Geographical Knowledge of the Ancients," in the _Narrative and Critical History of America_. In the same essay an anonymous poem of the thirteenth century is quoted to show the prevalent belief in the sphericity of the earth.]

[Footnote 16: In Didron's _Christian Iconography_, several interesting ill.u.s.trations from old miniatures, etc., show the globe in the hand of the Creator. It is curious that this supposedly exhaustive authority on church symbolism gives no account of the origin and history of this emblem.]

[Footnote 17: See Madonna pictures by Raphael, t.i.tian, Correggio, and Michelangelo in other volumes of the Riverside Art Series.]

[Footnote 18: _Eps_, with the curious mark above, stands for _episcopus_.]

V

BOYS WITH CYMBALS

BY LUCA DELLA ROBBIA

The bas-relief of our ill.u.s.tration is one of a series of marble panels designed to ornament the singing-gallery of a church. The children moving forward with song and cymbal remind us of the bands of singers and musicians who took part in religious processions of ancient times.

We read of such processions among both the Greeks[19] and the Hebrews.

[20]

The custom of singing was adopted by the Christian church from its foundation,[21] and gradually the musical part of the service was developed into a fine art. There was a famous system of choral chanting under Pope Gregory I.,[22] and in the eleventh century part singing was introduced. At length the organ came into use, and by the fifteenth century it had become an important part of the church furnis.h.i.+ngs.

It was early in this century when the wardens of the cathedral at Florence had an organ constructed on what the old writer Vasari called "a very grand scale." In connection with this an organ loft, such as the Italians call a _cantoria_, was needed to accommodate the singers.

The Florentine sculptor, Luca della Robbia, received the order for this work, and was occupied with it some nine years (1431-1440).

The cantoria is entirely of marble, built like a balcony, with the upper part or bal.u.s.trade supported on five consoles or brackets. Four square bas-reliefs, separated by pilasters, ornament the front of the bal.u.s.trade, and four more fill the corresponding s.p.a.ces below, separated by the consoles. The artist took as the motive of his decorative scheme the one hundred and fiftieth psalm. This hymn of praise furnished his imagination with a series of pictures ill.u.s.trating many kinds of music. The entire psalm is quoted in the Latin version on the gallery, the inscriptions running in narrow bands across the top and bottom and between the two rows of panels. These are the verses in the familiar English version of King James, grouped in the three sections into which they are divided:--

"Praise G.o.d in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power.

Praise him for his mighty acts: praise him according to his excellent greatness.

Praise him with the sound of the trumpet: praise him with the psaltery and harp.

Praise him with the timbrel

and dance: praise him with stringed instruments and organs.

Praise him upon the loud cymbals: praise him upon the high sounding cymbals.

Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord."

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOYS WITH CYMBALS (LUCA DELLA ROBBIA) _The Duomo, Florence_]

The eight ill.u.s.trations of the gallery omit nothing mentioned by the psalmist. Here are the trumpets, the harp, the psaltery, and the timbrel. Here is the choric dance, followed by players on organs and stringed instruments; after these come the loud cymbals or tambourines, and finally the "high sounding cymbals" of our ill.u.s.tration.

The players are a half dozen children, some dressed in tunics, and others wearing scarf-like garments which leave their limbs free. Two are crowned with flowers in the Greek fas.h.i.+on, and others have a fillet or band bound about the hair. The leader walks with his head thrown back, his mouth wide open, singing with all his might, oblivious of everything but his music. He holds the cymbals high, striking them together in the rhythm of his song. His companion is a jolly little fellow, not at all concerned in the music, but laughing at something which attracts his attention in the distance.

There is another rogue just behind the leader. Without losing step he throws his weight forward on bending knee, putting his ear to the upper cymbal. He is evidently amusing himself with the lingering vibrations of the metal. The flower-crowned boy bringing up the rear smiles at us cheerily, as he steps along, clas.h.i.+ng his cymbals with right good-will. The children in the background seem to take their task more seriously, as if sharing the spirit of the leader.

It is clear that our artist found the models for his figures in the streets of Florence. These round-faced children with their large mouths are not pretty enough for imaginary types. They are perfectly natural, and that is why we like them.

The grouping is skilfully planned to give unity to the composition without any stiffness. There are no awkward gaps between the figures, but the lines flow from one to another, binding them together. The half kneeling posture of the child in the middle makes diagonal lines to unite the leader with the boy in the rear. We notice in the drawing the same sweep of line which we have admired in Donatello's bronze reliefs of angels. The three figures in front are modelled in high relief, and in beautiful curves; the children in the rear are in low relief.

The work of Luca della Robbia was not confined to marble. Soon after completing the organ gallery he made a bronze door for the interior of the cathedral. He is best known for his work in enamelled terra-cotta, of which we shall hear more in later chapters.

[Footnote 19: See Chapter III. in the volume on _Greek Sculpture_ in the Riverside Art Series.]

[Footnote 20: Psalm lxviii., verse 25, and 1 Chronicles, chapter xiii., verse 8.]

[Footnote 21: St. Matthew, chapter xxvi., verse 30.]

[Footnote 22: The pontificate of Gregory I. was from 590 to 604.]

VI