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by
Zlatan Gruborović
January 2008
3338922
2009
Abstract
2
Table of Contents
Acknowledgement 4
Introduction 5 – 11
Chapter III. Maniera, Style and Mannerism. The Style(s) of Bronzino 87 – 151
3
Acknowledgement
We1 would like to thank the members of the History of Art Department of the Bryn
Mawr College for all their support. More specifically, we are deeply thankful to our
adviser and mentor, Dr. David Cast, for all his patience and kindness in helping us
define and refine both our dissertation and its style. We are indebted to Dr. Alice A.
Donohue for introducing us to the different concepts of the term style, which become
one of the major subjects in this work. We are thankful to Dr. Steven Levine for his
warmth and understanding as well as for his precious corrections of the imperfect
version of this dissertation. Dr. Homay King was a careful reader and her appreciation
of certain materials that otherwise were considered inferior in our work made us rethink
the whole concept of writing in a foreign language. Finally, late Professor Phyllis Pray
Bober needs to be mentioned here, since her kind introductions to unknown works and
phenomena of art echo in every museum we have visited since we met her.
Ms. Joanne Stearns needs to be mentioned as a very special and rare friend – without her
support, we probably would never have finished this work. And finally, we would like
to thank my Mother, Mrs. Radmila Gruborovic, who by virtue of compromising her own
emotional security and by giving me her unconditional encouragement made our
intellectual enterprise (modest, as it is) possible. We dedicate this dissertation to Mrs.
Gruborović and to Ms. Stearns.
1
It needs to be stated and clarified here that in this dissertation the reader will be addressed by the writer in
plural, and that this was a mere stylistic choice, which does not imply any particular approach to writing
about art.
4
Zlatan Gruborović
Introduction
In his recent book published on Agnolo Bronzino, Maurice Brock made a number of
“It goes without saying that some of Bronzino’s private devotional pictures are
universally admired,…, but, all in all, his altarpieces remain unloved.”2
2 Brock, Maurice, Bronzino (Paris: Flammarion; London: Thames and Hudson, 2002), 240.
It might be useful to compare these lines by Brock with those written by Arthur McComb in 1928, in the
"Preface" to his book Agnolo Bronzino; His Life and Works. McComb offered what seemed to us an interesting
yet peculiar account of the reception of Bronzino’s art in Anglo-American circles. Of the neglect accorded
Bronzino’s work by English and American connoisseurs and philistines alike, McComb wrote:
“It is a curious fact that practically nothing has been written in English about Bronzino. We may look for the
reason, at least partly, in the fact that unlike many more 'primitive' artists – Botticelli, for example –
Bronzino has never stood in need of rehabilitation. Always severe enough in style to win the suffrage of the
aesthetic connoisseur, he was yet sufficiently representational to cause the Philistine with a 'fancy for
pictures' no misgivings. He thus escaped alike violent detraction and passionate defence. He escaped, in fact,
being written about.” [McComb, Arthur Kilgore, Agnolo Bronzino; His Life and Works, (Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard University Press, 1928): "Preface," no page number, Emphasis Added..].
We used the word peculiar because we believe that McComb’s argument symptomatises the condition to
which it points. That is to say that despite the acuity of his view – he saw that there is something curious
about the fact that Bronzino “has escaped being written about” – McComb failed to notice something crucial
in the mystery of Bronzino’s reception. We would suggest that McComb failed to notice that Bronzino may
have been excluded from the art-historical discourse by virtue of being a Mannerist artist.
Whereas Bronzino’s work within the art-historical discourse became more ‘visible’, Brock, like McComb,
fails to see the obvious reason for the disliking of Brozino’s religious images: that they were not received
well since they were painted.
5
And such a preference in artistic value within the same genre he explains further in the
following way:
“…the painter [Bronzino] always proceeded by imitating art. In his eyes, proxemic3
status had no business affecting style: the fact that a work was intended for public,
official, or merely private presentation entailed no specific modifications in choice of
means.”4
We have decided to begin our work on Bronzino, and on his style, or styles, and on
Mannerism as a stylistic period, with a quotation, and thus like Bronzino we risk being
labelled as “Mannerist”5 ourselves. But we did this in order to demonstrate one of the
recurring themes in art commentary on Mannerism and Bronzino himself and the
prevalence of the old criticism of his work that still exists even in contemporary art-
historical discourse. For whilst Brock could have chosen any number of ways to
comment on Bronzino’s religious paintings, he almost without any adaptation (if not by
virtue of mere adoption), criticised them in the same way as Raffaelle Borghini did in
1586, even if he did not at this point in his book acknowledge this particular and well-
known art historical source. And one would expect that in such a recent publication on
Bronzino, lavishly decorated as it is with paintings from all of the genres of painting
Bronzino worked in, and written also with passion for formal analysis, some fresher and
3[We found it useful to include the definition of the word “proxemic” here. According to the Oxford English
Dictionary online database, it derives from proxemics: “The study of the spaces that people feel it necessary
to set between themselves and others as they vary in different social settings, or between different social
groups or cultures; also the study of the feeling for space between people as it is manifested in aspects of
culture such as the planning of houses or towns, in language, etc. Hence proxemic a., of, relating or
pertaining to proxemics]
4 Ibid., 240.
5This title we would attain by virtue of imitating or referring to other works, in this case, to a quote from a
book by Maurice Brock.
6
less condescending attitude towards Bronzino would be found. However, the text, for all
of its thoroughness, reads like a new gown made of patches of old criticism, woven
together and then camouflaged by the phrase “the art of reference”6 that Brock
introduced to escape the term Mannerism in all its negative connotations. Brock claimed
such were the pictures of Bronzino, that in all of them there are references to a painting
as a Florentine painter and to affirm his stylistic adherence to fiorentinità, a term used by
Brock to refer to a specific sense of belonging to the city of Florence both in the political
as well as in the artistic sense. For Brock, Bronzino painted in the way he wrote poetry –
and this enterprise of Pontormo’s follower today still remains almost without any
audience – where he made constant and often jocular references to the works of earlier
We also used Brock’s critique here as an example of the numerous accounts of criticism
that often will be read and contested in this dissertation. And now it may still be of use
to say here that the essential subject of this dissertation are the paintings by Agnolo
Bronzino (1503-1572) and the tradition of critical response that has grown up around
them in the more than four centuries since they were painted. The pictures of Bronzino
today are very well known in any history of sixteenth-century art. But his work,
stylistically varied and complex as it is, remains still a subject for further investigation.
And perhaps in this thesis more than in the work of other scholars who have written
recently on Bronzino, we will attempt to concentrate both on the visual evidence of the
6 Ibid., 19.
7
paintings themselves and on the long tradition of criticism in all its patterns and variety
It is clear that Bronzino’s paintings, as Mannerist, have often been considered inferior
when compared to works by the painters of the High Renaissance. But in this
dissertation we will attempt to explore further the norms of artistic valuation of both
moments or periods or styles (that is, the norms of Renaissance and of Mannerism) as
well as the idea of a decline which, it must be recognised, has coloured so much of what
has been said about Bronzino and his work, especially of his later paintings. Such an
account of the notion of rise and decline was to be found in the work of Giorgio Vasari,
and it is his treatment of Bronzino that will be especially important for us, not only in
what he says about Bronzino and the artists around him – especially Michelangelo
Buonarotti – but also because within his narrative there is a clear account of the idea of
progress and decline, borrowed from the similar accounts of cultural decline found in
antiquity. It is from this account by Vasari and from, as we now recognise, many other
similar accounts of artistic progress and decline in later writers that we will look at
Bronzino’s pictures and of their place within the whole tradition of sixteenth-century
painting.
With Bronzino, it is perhaps his portraits that first come to the modern mind. But his
religious and allegorical paintings still remain less studied, which is especially
interesting since in the sixteenth century they may have been more important if more
troublesome than any of these portraits. We will be concerned here with these later
religious works, such as the Descent of Christ into Limbo, (Florence, Soprintendenza alle
8
Gallerie, 1552, fig. 43.), the Resurrection of Christ (1552, Santissima Annunziata, Florence,
fig. 44.), Noli Me Tangere (1560-65, Musée du Louvre, Paris, fig. 51.) and most
importantly – the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence (1569, San Lorenzo, Florence, fig. 56.). All of
these have been severely criticised and then neglected, in this way also being made less
accessible to later ages. And of the four mentioned, still most strictly criticised is The
Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, and for all that has been said of this monumental composition,
development.
To look in this way at the complete work of Bronzino raises also the question of whether
we are to see here the possibility not of a unified style, but of a number of styles, which
according to the then contemporary demands of decorum and genre Bronzino applied to
each type of painting in which he worked. We will also seek to answer whether such
in general. Thus, addressing the word style seems necessary not only because of the
prevalence of this term in today’s critical discourse on Mannerism (as seen in such
phrases attempting to define Mannerism as stylized style or as stylish style), but also
because of its significance for positioning Bronzino’s apparently varied work within the
larger historical framework of the period. It would be unrealistic to claim that in this
dissertation we will come close to defining as elusive a term as style;7 however, it will be
7Here perhaps one can remember that “[a]ccording to George Kubler, ‘style is a word of which the
everyday use has deteriorated in our time to the level of banality.’” [Sohm, Philip, Style in the Art Theory of
Early Modern Italy (Cambridge, U.K.; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 1]
Moreover, it seems that the studies in Mannerism suffered as a consequence of the very position of style in
recent art-historical discourse:
9
possible and necessary to analyse some part of the historical development of this notion
and the relationship between style and the ever changing accounts on maniera, as well as
between style and later, yet also instable accounts of Mannerism. At this point, a reader
who is disinclined to connect our simultaneous approach to the period in general and to
an opus of an individual painter may question our approach. And such a question may
simply be simulated here: Why is the general critical discourse about Mannerism central
can only hope we will manage to prove here – that the reception of Bronzino’s paintings
by scholars was mediated by the more general attitudes of the authors (writers on art
and later art historians) in their periods towards Mannerism as a style. For unlike the
work of most painters of the High Renaissance, the paintings of Bronzino have not been
always praised, and this was essentially a consequence of the predominantly negative
critical response to Mannerism which started in the late sixteenth century and – perhaps
Although this is not indicated directly in the title of this work, we will be interested also
in what we can call the notion of epigonicity, a general term which here emerges as a
decline. Related to the problem of artistic value of the work done after a forerunner of a
style, such epigonicità (the term epigonoi meaning after-comers) refers to a dispute about
the artistic supremacy of the artists who lived in the time after the peak of art was
reached with Michelangelo (or, more generally speaking, with the artists of the High
“Mannerism, the period style premised on either a celebration or and excess of style, suffered from a similar
fate.” [Ibid., 8]
10
Renaissance), and who thus were seen as inferior to their predecessor(s). In this thesis
we would like to see how far Bronzino could be seen as an epigone of Michelangelo and
whether such a claim then leads us back again to all the problems of imitation and
It may seem that this dissertation combines several levels of speculation and
historiography, here taking into account more general descriptions of terms such as
Mannerism, style and maniera, as well as an analysis of the particular paintings from the
period itself. Yet the need for such apparent complexity is there in all the visual evidence
of Bronzino’s paintings themselves, produced as they were within the rich and layered
culture of sixteenth-century Florence. We can only hope that our thesis will succeed in
shedding new light on the often misinterpreted, denigrated and obscured late paintings
by Bronzino.
11
Definitions of Terms and Methodology
certain definitions may be required here. First, the term “Mannerism”8 will be used in
will refer here to a period style in Italian painting (and art in general) between the 1520s
and 1600.9 The debate on the appropriate term for the stylistic period, which we called
Mannerism, still is acute and demonstrates very clearly the difficulty of forming a
consensus on this particular epoch in art history. Recent books such as that by David
Franklin seem to show still a certain negative attitude to the term “Mannerism.” Authors
such as Franklin, whom we will introduce further in the text, attempt either to replace
abolish it completely, and replace it with elusive time-related categories (such as art after
8 We decided to capitalise the letter “M” in “Mannerism” in this text since we believe that the style of the
Mannerists had gained its legitimacy as a stylistic rather than as a pejorative denominator.
9 It is believed that Mannerism started either with Raphael’s (1520) death or after the Sack of Rome (1527).
The date used for its end varies – it usually coincides with the date when the Baroque emerged. The
periodisation of Mannerism itself, that is, the further delineation of different periods within Mannerism
itself will be addressed in great detail in this dissertation.
12
the Renaissance or sixteenth-century art), leaving the stylistically disjointed paintings to be
categorised by genres rather than by period or style. Since Franklin’s book is the most
recent work that addresses the issues of styles, we need to present it here briefly, for it
will help us contrast different approaches to periodisation and the question of terms in
almost Herostrates-like manner explained why he thought the use of terms such as
Mannerism and High Renaissance were dangerous and perhaps even inappropriate when
describing Florentine art of the Cinquecento. Firstly, he posited that the High
“Indeed, the High Renaissance could not exist without its Mannerist nemesis.”10
known in varying guises as Mannerism, first as a period of spiritual anxiety, and, more
recently, as one of intensive formal sophistication.”11 To prove that neither the term
“High Renaissance” nor “Mannerism” are applicable to all the artists of this period,
Franklin gives an example of Andrea del Sarto’s development, which, in his account,
evades the formal barrier of the two styles. He also quotes Vasari, who included both
Leonardo and Salviati in his third period of stylistic development, which Franklin saw
10 Franklin, David, Painting in Renaissance Florence 1500-1550 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2001), 1.
11 Ibid.
13
with some part of his intention we may agree – his concern in the book “will be to
promote heterogeneity, not linearity, by isolating artistic strands rather than to argue for
However, Franklin still distinguished between two groups of the Florentine artists in
1500-1550: “one filled with the innovators of heterogeneous styles who were mainly
preoccupied with the complexities of process”13 and the second group “[c]omprised
more respectful and complacent artists of homogenous and artificial styles, who were
inclined to repeat themselves with preset formal solutions.”14 Hence, what he refused to
discerned by virtue of a descriptive evaluation, which incorporates the very word style
However, for Franklin, there can be no Mannerist reaction against High Renaissance art
because “there was no normative High Renaissance for the artists so labelled [i.e., for the
discuss the whole issue) and by quoting Vasari, Franklin attempted to undo the usual
and yet simple binary opposition which was used by Walter Friedlaender for
distinguishing the Early Maniera from the High Renaissance. Yet he does not allow the
discourse – he resolves this important issue by erasing both terms from his narrative and
12 Ibid.
13 Ibid.
14 Ibid., 1-2, Emphasis Added.
15 Ibid., 2.
14
We will provide yet another peculiar example of scholarly treatment of Bronzino and
Mannerism here. Gordon Campbell in his very recent book Renaissance Art and
word Mannerism. Here is an almost full quotation on Bronzino from this fourteen-
“... Italian painter and poet, born in Florence, where he trained in the studio of Jacopo
da Pontormo, whose Martyrdom of San Lorenzo (in the Florentine Church of San Lorenzo)
he was to complete in 1569. Bronzino’s subjects were often religious (e.g. Christ in Limbo,
1552, Uffizi) or mythological (e.g. An Allegory of Venus and Cupid, 1540/50, National
Gallery, London). His finest and most influential pictures were courtly portraits, such as
his Portrait of a Young Man, Portrait of a Lady, and Pierro de’Medici (all in the National
Gallery in London), Eleanor of Toledo and her Son (Uffizi), and Portrait of a Young Man
(Metropolitan Museum, New York).”16
“The notion of repudiation of the ideals of Raphael and early Michelangelo by the
artists of the period 1530 to 1590 is a fiction invented to support a historiographical
theory. Such artists were not, however, content merely to replicate the achievements of
their predecessors. The importance of neoplatonism in sixteenth-century thought
encouraged a movement away from realism towards idealism and fantasy, and also
encouraged a taste for novelty ... and for esoteric allusion.”17
The question that we can only propose here without being able to speculate on the reply
of the author would be: If Mannerism was “the repudiation of the ideals of Raphael and
Michelangelo”18 and yet it resulted in “a taste for novelty,”19 then why is Bronzino not
16 Campbell, Gordon, Renaissance Art and Architecture (Oxford ; New York : Oxford University Press, 2004),
40.
17 Ibid.,163
18 Ibid.,163.
15
named a Mannerist and why are his portraits, being closest to the realism of the
The problems about the term Mannerism and with Bronzino remain present in scholarly
debates in vivo as well. For Dr. Alexander Nagel in his talk “The Volatile Art of the
Sixteenth Century,”20 advocated the total exclusion of the term Mannerism, because of
its allegedly singularly negative connotation. And also, at a more recent conference at
the University of Pennsylvania21 on April 1st-2nd 2005 Dr. Kathleen Weil-Garris Brandt of
New York University expressed similar attitude towards Mannerism, suggesting that
the term “High Renaissance” is not a proper term in art history any more, applying the
same attitude towards “Mannerism,” and claiming that it was not a style but based on a
periodisation that was a product of which she called the “Platonist,” “nominal” and
We hope to show later that by erasing the term Mannerism completely from the art
historical discourse greater harm than service can be done to an understanding of this
period. Although we believe that the terms Mannerism, maniera and style, because of the
possible negative connotations and the complexities of their separate histories, need to
be addressed carefully, to dismiss the term Mannerism altogether would erase its
important yet problematic history, which would then distance us forever from
19 Ibid.,163.
16
perceiving what we can see as important changes that occurred in Italian art after the
1520s.
may be grounded in the dislike some scholars have of the terminology used since the
their preference for a term that was invented later (i.e. the High Renaissance, the term
that Dr. Weil-Garris Brandt dismissed as historically unfounded) and which is almost as
As for the term style, the attempt to define it may be futile. We intend neither to write a
history of that concept here nor to offer its definition, but merely to say that in the title of
this dissertation this term refers to the particularities of individual artistic expression of
the artist as well as to the formal qualities inherent in any particular period of art. What
we intend to show here is that in a highly developed culture the two meanings of this
term can be closely related. Furthermore, an entire chapter of this thesis will trace the
intertwining of the terms style, maniera and Mannerism, and attempt to apply such
We need to introduce the third term connected to both Mannerism and style: namely
decline. Because Mannerism often was seen as a decline, or one that occurred after the
peak of art had been reached in the High Renaissance. Although the Oxford English
22Friedländer, Walter, “Die Enshtehung des antiklassischen Stiles in der intalienischen Malerei um 1520,”
Reportium für Kunstwissenschaft 46 (1925), 49-86.
17
Dictionary defined the terms decline and decadence as almost synonymous, in the context
of this paper we preferred to use the term decline instead of the term decadence, because
the term decadence is perhaps too closely associated with the Decadent movement.23 That
is to say that we will avoid the word decadence because, in the course of the nineteenth-
aesthetic and an ethical metaphorical value. Further, the phrase model of decline denotes a
Having introduced the main terms as well as the importance of criticism and its history
when looking anew at or reading about Bronizno’s oeuvre, we now would like to move
to the structure of this thesis. In the First chapter we will provide the details of
Bronzino’s life and work. We will define then the genres and stylistic periods recognised
by scholars within Bronzino’s opus, which will be useful when discussing his styles and
their decorum. Here we will follow attributions of Maurice Brock and Charles
McCorquodale.
The Second chapter will also include historiography of Mannerism and historiography
Bronzino in earlier historical accounts merely was enumerated amongst the Mannerists,
23 This is not to say that we consider readings based on the nineteenth-century definition of decline
unsubstantiated. Charles McCorquodale, for example, made compelling references to Huysmans when
interpreting Bronzino’s Allegory of Venus and Cupid (London, National Gallery, 1540-45). [Cf. McCorquodale,
Charles, Bronzino (New York: Harper and Row, 1981), 89]
24 This of course means that the better term to use would have been the model of rise and decline. However, we
did not use this longer term, in order both to achieve brevity of expression and to relate our reader directly
to the period we are investigating (i.e. Mannerism), which is seen as the last fragment of the sequence in
such cyclical model of the development in the arts (i.e. as a decline).
18
his works to be recognised and studied individually only in the twentieth century.
Finally, a recent account on Bronzino and Mannerism which emerged indirectly from
The Third chapter will begin with general accounts on style and maniera most
importantly by Marco Treves and continue to more general accounts of Meyer Schapiro.
Then we will explain the model of rise and decline, as applied to particular periods in
art history, especially to the sequence of styles now called Renaissance, Mannerism and
Baroque. This general notion will be of help then to understand the position of Bronzino
and his paintings and their different styles within the discourse on his work. As we have
later in his opus (seen uniformly as a decline in his opus today) actually present him as a
stylistically flexible painter who adopted different styles for different subject-matters or
commissions.
The Fourth chapter addresses the problem of epigonicity, a notion rarely discussed by
other scholars on Bronzino. Thus we first will introduce the term epigonoi as defined in
Greek tragedy, and then continue to explore different connotations that the term
acquired in history and culture. Before looking at Bronzino’s works, said to have been
Michelangelo and Michelangelo’s late works, such as The Last Judgement, and their
reception under the Counter-Reformation. After this we will analyse later religious
19
this monumental fresco, once called one of “Mannerism’s most monumental failures,”25
will consider the question of epigonicity of this work which, in our view, looks into the
The Conclusion will question the properties of the arguments we have presented and
the position of Bronzino’s paintings in the current critical history of sixteenth-century art.
The structure of those chapters that address the problems of style and epigonicity is
determined by the need to explain these difficult major theoretical notions before
discussing the reception and criticism of Bronzino’s paintings. We believe and we will
attempt to show that Bronzino’s opus was never analysed without taking into account
the general criticism and evaluation of the period style of Mannerism. Thus most of the
comments on Bronzino’s work we have included and questioned in this dissertation can
be traced to the critical vocabulary that has accumulated around Mannerism. Because of
this, in our chapters we move from the general and more difficult notions to the
As for the style of this text, we need to emphasise also that we will be looking at textual
as well as visual evidence in this work, and that such an approach will demand shifts in
our narrative, in its style as well as in methodology. Thus, often we will resort to formal
analysis of paintings found to be very important for our research, as well as to close
25
McCorquodale, Op. Cit., 154
20
analysis of early and contemporary texts regarding Bronzino’s paintings and Mannerism
in general. In order to present our material here as clearly as possible, we will do our
best, further in the text as well as in this brief acknowledgement, to warn the reader of
the shifts in narrative which came as a result of the methodological apparatus we chose
to apply here. And we again need to say that we both in the style and in the
methodology of this thesis attempted to capture a reflection of the layers of art history
classifications.
In this chapter we would like to present a brief account of Bronzino’s life as well as of
his pictorial opus. Although by now many art historians have focused on Bronzino’s
works, either by taking into account his entire opus, or more often by commenting on
particular locations) we will find it necessary rather to show the diversity within
Bronzino’s work in all of its complexity. Our attempt here to construct a typology or to
determine different genres within his opus will serve our further aims: the account of
these genres will help us understand the various and contradictory accounts made of
Bronzino, even today. The task here is not to re-establish a new value system or to prefer
one genre or style (which we may see in his opus) and neglect another, but to try to
remove the layers of historical narratives which operate still in the critical, and visual
field today, those layers which obfuscate certain paintings by Bronzino and by virtue of
21
We know little about the early years of Agnolo Bronzino26. He was born on 17th
a modest origin – his father was a butcher, and his modest family origins (“of ‘honest,
humble and poor parents,’”27) influenced that in written documents he appeared with a
Agnolo di Toro), that consists of the names of his male ancestors, rather than a single
surname, which then in the sixteenth century was an upper class denominator. By 1529
Agnolo had acquired the nickname Bronzino28 which perhaps means “little bronze,”29
referring to his hair or his dark complexion that resembles that of bronze, and not to his
Story of Joseph (or Joseph with Jacob in Egypt, 1518, National Gallery, London, fig. 1.),
saying that Bronzino can be identified with the little boy with darker complexion or
bronze hair who sits by the steps to the left of the painting.
His emotional life remains a mystery to us, except for his devotion to his master
Pontormo, and his unusual family arrangement with the family of an armourer
26 We decided to follow the more recent accounts of his biography by McCorquodale (McCorquodale, Op.
Cit) and Maurice Brock (Brock, Op. Cit.), but we need to warn the reader here that we do not share the
opinions of either of the two authors of Bronzino’s paintings. To explain this further: both McCorquodale
and Brock follow the old criticism of Bronzino’s work by which his portraits are considered his best work,
and they both in their different ways interpret Broznino’s last paintings as decline within his oeuvre.
27 McCorquodale, Op. Cit., 9; the reference is to Raffaello Borghini’s dialogue Il Riposo (1584)
28 Brock traced a document from 24th July to 10th October 1529 referring to the painting Pietà with Mary
Magdalene (Church of Santa Trinità) in which the painter is signed as “’Agnoli di Chosimo pitore detto
Bronzino’” [Brock, Op. Cit.,13]. Brock also found another “antiquated” nickname that Bronzino invented for
himself – “’Crisero’” [Ibid.., 13] – and it seems that it interestingly comes from chrusos which means gold in
Greek.
29 Ibid., 13.
30 Ibid., 13
22
Cristofano Allori, with whom he shared a household from around 1540 to 1546. Then
one of Allori’s sons, namely Alessandro Allori, became his pupil, and came to use the
McCorquodale connected his artistic development with a rather detailed account of the
political circumstances during his formation as an artist and also speculated about early
influences on him, namely the Battle of Cascina (1504, destroyed in 1512) and The Holy
Family (or The Doni Tondo, 1504-1506, Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence), both by
Michelangelo Buonarotti. We will not follow the history of Florence in order to decipher
Bronzino’s works with different masters. However, we may agree that in those two
paintings which were of major influence to many artists of his generation Bronzino may
have encountered first the contorted positions of the bodies (that he then may have
taken to his liking), and it can be claimed that the Doni Tondo, with its high degree of
surface finish and elegance may have influenced his further stylistic development. In
addition, another artist relevant for his development was Andrea del Sarto (1486-1530),
the master also to Jacopo Pontormo and Rosso Fiorentino. However, a later source says
that Bronzino in his childhood worked with Raffaellino del Garbo (1446-1524)31 and then
31 In order to present slightly different model of Bronzino’s stylistic development we will refer here to
Feinberg’s periodisation of his work which also includes changes in his style and artistic influences:
According to Feinberg, Bronzino first worked with del Garbo and by 1519 he Joined Pontormo’s workshop.
The next stage occurred in 1530 when “Bronzino embarked on an independent career” [this is the year of his
visit to Pesaro] although the painting created for the Duke of Urbino were “strongly Pontormoesque.”
Feinberg saw Bronzino as constantly striving to refine and polish Pontormo’s style, and that he achieved in
Medici court portraits. The London Allegory Feinberg called “a paradigm of High mannerism in Florence in
its congealed eroticism and courtly opacity” and it represented “the extreme to which Bronzino was willing
to take his art.” “In some respects it is a synthesis of the formal eccentricities he learned from Pontormo and
the cool sculptural style of Michelangelo; the Allegory has been seen as an homage to and inversion of the
latter’s Doni Tondo (1504, Uffizi).” [From Studio to Studiolo: Florentine Draftsmanship under the First Medici
23
with an unnamed “painter of ‘cose grosse’ or crudities.”32 The influence of Raffaellino,
who was also master to del Sarto, can be seen in what Charles McCorquodale calls
“formal clarity and technical proficiency in the use of paint”33 reflecting also a choice
Bronzino had made in 1514 between joining del Sarto or Pontormo, choosing the latter
of the two painters. If we believe that Bronzino was portrayed in Pontormo’s Story of
Joseph, we could conclude that Bronzino was present perhaps as a pupil at Pontormo’s
bottega even before 1520. What we also know from the documents from the period is
that he followed Pontormo as an assistant to the Certosa at Galuzzo in 1523, during the
outbreak of the plague in Florence, and that he also may have contributed to a few of the
paintings at the Capponi chapel in Santa Felicità, Florence, the work mainly done by
It is McCorquodale who has traced the earliest known work of Bronzino34 to Certosa del
Galuzzo claiming that Bronzino painted two paintings there at the Chiostro Grande
(grand cloister): a fresco The Man of Sorrows With Two Angels (1523, Certosa del Galuzzo;
Grand Dukes, ed. Feinberg, Larry J. (Oberlin: Allen Memorial Art Museum, Oberlin College; Seattle :
Distributed by University of Washington Press, 1991), 75]
According to Feinberg, the next phase in Bronzino’s opus commenced after his visit to Rome. Then Bronzino
decided to temper his style probably under influence of Girolamo Muziano (1532-92) and Girolamo
Siciolante da Sermoneta (1521-80). This new “sober manner” [Ibid., 75] can be seen in his Holy Family with
Saint Elizabeth and St. John (1546, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna), although Feinberg here sees this
manner more as an option he applied on occasion than a radical turn in his style. The last phase Feinberg
described: “Like so many Florentine artists of the late sixteenth century, Bronzino exhibited an artistic
schizophrenia, shifting easily from conservative, even anachronistic, manner to one of the most pretentious
and overwrought artifice, as seen in his fresco of the Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence....” [Ibid., 75]
32 McCorquodale, Op. Cit., 13, reference here again is to Raffaello Borghini’s dialogue Il Riposo.
33Ibid., 13
34Not wishing to exercise the issues of authenticity of Bronzino’s paintings, we will follow here the
attributions made in McCorquodale, Op. Cit., and sometimes in Brock, Op. Cit., which seem to be quite
generous, as both authors occasionally included works which we believe are obvious studio copies, and
even works not executed by Bronzino at all. However, our task here in this chapter is not to judge these
assessments of others but to present what we believe to be Bronzino’s opus, and thus we need to rely on
authors who were in position to make claims about authenticity.
24
McCorquodale in the text called it Dead Christ Supported by Angels), and an oil and gesso
Angel Bringing the Palm and Wreath of Martyrdom to St. Lawrence on the Grille (1523,
Certosa del Galuzzo; referred again under a different title in the text, as Martyrdom of St.
Lawrence). He also proposed that even in these now damaged paintings we can see a
rather cruder manner that Bronzino followed before creating his own style. However,
we should keep in mind that it was in these frescoes that Pontormo also followed what
addition these two pictures are in extremely poor condition and the attribution of these
is therefore rather difficult. Another painting McCorquodale mentioned is that of the St.
Benedict (mid-1520s, Badia, Florence; fresco transferred to canvas), seeing this also as
The first works by Bronzino that most authors accept are one or two of the four tondi
representing the Four Evangelists in the Capponi chapel of Santa Felicità, Florence,
painted between 1525 and 1528. The attribution of the four Evangelists varies from
author to author. McCorquodale proposed that only one of the four Evangelists in Sta
Felicità, namely St. John (1525-28, Capponi chapel, Santa Felicità, Florence, fig. 6), is by
Pontormo, whereas we would argue (and agree with Maurice Brock) that the two
Evangelists painted by Bronzino may have been St. Mark and St. Matthew (1525-28,
Capponi chapel, Santa Felicità, Florence). These, it should be noted, are almost
The first works that are more firmly attributed to Bronzino and that are clearly
distinguishable from Pontormo’s work were painted before Bronzino’s sojourn to the
25
Court of Urbino at Pesaro in 1530. It seems that at in these first years Bronzino
established himself as a portrait painter, and it was in this genre that he firstly and
successfully separated himself from Pontormo. However, not all scholars agree in this
matter, and many argue that it was much later in Bronzino’s work that his style was
formed. We will agree here with Larry Feinberg, who in a study of Bronizno’s stylistic
career,”35 although, according to the same author, the paintings created for the Duke of
Portrait painting was also Bronzino’s most important activity in the following ten years,
when he painted that of Guidobaldo della Rovere (1532, Palazzo Pitti, Florence), A Lady
Hampton Court, H.M. The Queen; a painting of arguable attribution) and Portrait of a
Bronzino’s religious works from that period include Holy Family with SS Anne and John
(1526-27, National Gallery, Washington, fig. 13.), Madonna and Child with St. John (1528,
Corsini Gallery, Florence, arguable attribution), The Dead Christ with the Madonna and the
Magdalen (1528-29, Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence, fig. 14.). The latter is seen by some
35 From Studio to Studiolo: Florentine Draftsmanship under the First Medici Grand Dukes, ed. Feinberg Larry J.
(Oberlin: Allen Memorial Art Museum, Oberlin College; Seattle: Distributed by University of Washington
Press, 1991), 75.
36Ibid.
37Often this painting is attributed to Pontormo. Although Brock claimed that by now it is unanimously
attributed to Bronzino, we would have difficulties in making an accurate attribution.
26
During his stay at Urbino, Bronzino was introduced to the highly stylised atmosphere of
the court where a few years earlier Baldessare Castiglione had written Il Cortegiano.
Besides the portrait Guidobaldo della Rovere, the only other painting done by Bronzino
while in Urbino is The Story of Apollo and Marsyas (1531-32, Hermitage Museum, St.
McCorquodale and Craig Hugh Smyth, Bronzino executed some of the fresco decoration,
and these two authors agreed that Allegory of Peace (1530-32, Villa Imperiale, Pesaro,
It seems that Bronzino might have stayed there at Urbino as a court painter had
Pontormo not asked him to return to Florence. And it was there on his return, during the
reign of Duke Alessandro de’ Medici, that Bronzino first gained some status as an
important portrait painter, even though until 1537, when Cosimo I ascended the throne,
he received only one commission from the court. Bronzino most likely then met Giorgio
Vasari, who was in charge of the court paintings and decorations before 1537. Within his
view of the opus of Bronzino, the years between his arrival from Pesaro in 1532 and
development. However, this period is obscure since almost nothing from the work he
executed then (and that Vasari also mentioned) has survived, namely designs for
comedies, three decorative schemes for three villas – one of the Bettini and two of the
Medici family – and the apparati for the wedding between Cosimo I de’ Medici and
Eleonora of Toledo. The portrait of Cosimo de’ Medici as Orpheus (1537-39, Philadelphia
Museum of Art) which is now believed to have been executed before his marriage to
27
Eleonora of Toledo38 is the only commission that Bronzino may have received from the
represented half naked, in a rather contorted pose, with indirect attributes of sexual
potency (seen in the positioning of the flute) which may or may not constitute a basis for
the claim that this portrait indeed was painted before the marriage. This work remains
the only potential proof of a direct commission that Bronzino was given from the
Medicis, since in the marriage decorations he was just one of the artists who executed a
rather complicated décor, which may have been planned by another artist, most likely
by Vasari. However, some authors such as McCorquodale saw the “complexity and
sophistication”39 and “mature version of the maniera”40 in the frescoes that later Bronzino
painted at the Eleonora Chapel as stemming from his development and his experiences in
these years. It seems that Bronzino during these five years also became familiar with the
intellectual elite of Florence, as most of his portraits represent men of letters. Perhaps it
was from such a context that Bronzino in 1538 began writing poetry and influences from
poetry can also be seen in his works at that time; namely in portraits of Dante, Petrarch
and Boccaccio he painted for Bettini’s villa41. Only the cartoon now in Munich42 can be
related without any doubt to these half-figure portraits Bronzino painted in the lunettes
for Bettini. At the same location Pontormo produced the painting which in a way will
haunt Bronzino whenever he will turn to painting allegories, namely his Venus and Cupid
(1533, Accademia, Florence), done after a cartoon by Michelangelo (which was also
38 If this was true, the proper dating for the portrait should be 1537. The fact that the portrait is still dated
between 1537 and 1539 undermines the claim that it was sent to Eleonora of Toledo before their marriage.
39 McCorquodale, Op. Cit., 41.
40 Ibid.
41 Of the three mentioned, the only picture that may have reached us is the one which Brock identified as
portrait of Dante, though it seems to us as a painting of arguable attribution which also is not mentioned by
any other author.
42 Portrait Head of Dante (1530, Graphische Sammlung, Munich; black chalk).
28
copied by Vasari). In the Medici villa at Careggi Bronzino also painted at the loggia the
allegories mentioned by Vasari as Fortune, Peace, Justice and Victory or Prudence, none of
There are a few Bronzino’s portraits from this period we still have: Boy with the Book
(1532-33, Castello Sforzesco, Milan), Andrea Doria as Neptune (1533, Pinacoteca Brera,
Milan), Young Man with a Lute (1534, Uffizi, Florence), Alessandro de’ Medici (1534-35,
Martelli (1535-36, Staatliche Museum, Berlin). In the books on Bronzino the accounts of
the portraits are usually followed by analysis of the drawings on which they are based.
We will not follow such an approach for it would open up the questions of authenticity,
and speculations on changes between the initial concept of the work and its final
execution, which are not useful for our particular approach to Bronzino. All that needs
to be said here is that the portraits as well as Bronzino’s letter on the paragone written in
1549 in response to Benedetto Varchi show Bronizno as a painter who is fully conversant
with the ways then of speaking about representation in all its truthfulness and
artificiality. Hence his portraits from this period may puzzle by their strange amalgam
of the real and the artificial – indeed, it was often claimed that it was by means of the
artificial that Bronzino depicted the real. And however this may appear to us today as
approach was common and accepted within all that was acknowledged about the
29
From this period of his work also date the portraits of Bartolomeo Panciatichi (1540, Uffizi,
Florence) and of his wife Lucrezia Pantiatichi (1540, Uffizi, Florence). The former displays
Bronzino’s attention to details as well as to the particular positioning of the body parts
of the sitter, which are juxtaposed to what by the tradition of Albertian perspective is the
At this stage in his career, Bronzino was mainly a portrait painter, for we have no record
of any major religious commissions given to him. The painting of this period that
escapes a clear genre designation is Pygmalion and Galatea (1529-30, Palazzo Vecchio,
Florence, fig. 23). And if the landscape in the background is seen often as influenced by
Northern paintings, the figures and the style of the altar in the foreground seem
undoubtedly Italian, mostly done under the influence of Pontormo and perhaps also
Parmigianino. Brock noted that the strange choice of the perspective seen in the steps of
Halberdier (1529-30, J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles) – for which Pygmalion and
Galatea was a cover, and that seems to be a plausible observation. For us what seems
more important though is the level of stylisation and contortion of the bodies, which still
show Bronzino not yet as affected by Michelangelo’s work as in his later paintings.
altar needs scrupulous analysis since its visual and stylistic sources do not appear at all
clear.
30
The most important painting from this period remains the Adoration of the Shepherds
radical turn to what now is often called the High Maniera. Yet this painting seems also
display the contorted positions of Mannerism, the overall impression is one of stability
and clarity, which had led some writers to speak of this painting as of the beginning of
the classicising phase of his work. Yet it seems to argue better that the Panciatichi
Madonna (1535, Uffizi, Florence) and The Madonna and Child with Saint John the Baptist and
a Female Saint, probably Saint Anne (1538-3943, National Gallery, London) would be taken
as signals of stylistic change in Bronzino’s work. The layering of the figures and the
compression of the space make these two works fundamentally different from the
Adoration, in which figures appear as isolated and positioned in space in far clearer a
way. The figures in the two aforementioned paintings of the Madonna and Child seem to
occupy almost the whole surface of the picture plane, and the background – along with
its explanatory role of assigning clear positions in the spatial grid to actors – disappears.
Historical circumstances which we cannot explain easily here brought the attention of
Grand Duke Cosimo I (1519-1579) to these diverse works of Bronzino’s, and as of 1537
he became the court painter of the Medici. Among the first dynastic portraits that
Bronzino painted for the Medici is that of Maria Salviati (1540, Kress Collection, San
Francisco), the mother of the Duke and a woman whose excellent lineage and political
skills helped Cosimo to rise to his position of the Duke. What then follows is a series of
31
portraits, religious paintings and apparati for masques and festivals that Bronzino
executed as official painter to the court of the Grand Duke Cosimo I. Accordingly, it
seems that one of Bronzino’s first commissions was to design the elaborate and
temporary decorations which are only known from Vasari for the marriage of the Duke
to Eleonora de Toledo, the daughter of the Spanish Viceroy of Naples. This marriage
was of great importance to Cosimo I, because it made a clear political statement of his
alliance to the Emperor (who along with Pope Clement VII helped the Medici to regain
their rule in Florence in the 1530s) and created a dynastic link to the prestigious courts in
Madrid and Vienna. Thus these temporary works, that today appear as a less important
and lost segment of Bronzino’s oeuvre, may have been then of utmost importance both
for him and for his patron. It seems that Bronzino also executed many similar
decorations for comedies, and it is interesting that for the marriage decorations of
Cosimo I Bronzino painted, on the base of Tribolo’s equestrian statue of Giovanni de’
Medici, two very beautiful scenes of the colour of bronze – witty reference perhaps these
were to his own name, and pictorial evidence of his thinking about the problem of
paragone.
Vasari highly praised all these decorations by Bronzino, and although we do not know
through whom, it seems that not his portraits or any earlier paintings, but these
wedding decorations, brought Bronzino new commission from the Duke, who then
asked him to paint a Chapel in the Ducal Palace for the Duchess. This work now usually
referred to as the Eleonora Chapel (1541-45, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence). The Duchess, who
was known to have had an appearance typical of the Spanish aristocracy at its most
refined, was also deeply pious and documents recently studied prove that she showed
32
considerable interest in the subject-matter of the frescoes that adorned her private chapel.
According to recent studies of patronage44, Bronzino’s works executed for the Duchess
demonstrate that he was a skilled courtier, who possessed the ability to satisfy both the
Duke and the Duchess. This skill in negotiating the separate desires and mutual needs of
his patrons seem to have secured for him the role as principal painter at the Florentine
court for more than three decades. In this particular case of the Eleonora Chapel, Bronzino
was inclined to satisfy the Duchess’ desire for self-reflection for it seems that her portrait
To put aside hidden portraits: The programme of the Eleonora Chapel follows the story of
Moses and can be divided into four groups or scenes: The Brazen Serpent, The Passage of
the Red Sea, Moses Striking the Rock and The Fall of Manna, respectively on the four walls
of the chapel. The centre of the chapel is occupied by the Deposition of Christ (1542-45,
Musée des Beaux Arts, Besançon) the original version being of such rare beauty (as
Duke Cosimo I put it – “’cosa rarissima’”45) that it was immediately sent to the Cardinal
Granville, the Keeper of the Seals of Charles V, and replaced by a copy executed by
Bronzino that can be seen now there at the Palazzo Vecchio. In the pendentives of the
Chapel the four cardinal virtues are represented, and the vault, for which exceptionally
studied preparatory drawing was made by Bronzino46, is given to the images of St.
Jerome, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Michael and St. John the Evangelist. The room itself is of
44 Edelstein, Bruce L., “Bronzino in the Service of Eleonora di Toledo and Cosimo I de’ Medici: Conjugal
Patronage and the Painter-Courtier,” Beyond Isabella, ed. Reiss, Sheryl E, and Wilkins, David G. (Kirksville,
Mo.: Truman State University Press, 2001), 225-263.
33
moderate dimensions and it is in the ceiling that Bronzino’s skillful use of illusionism
can be seen. Especially two out of four scenes in the vault – The Stigmatisation of St.
Francis47, due to its foreshortenings, and St. Michael Overcoming the Devil – attest to
claims of many critics that Bronzino developed here an individual style, different than
that of his master Pontormo. We would agree that St. Michael presents a stylistic
discontinuity in the vault, as much for his posture as for the colouration and movement,
and that in this particular fresco the future style of Bronzino leaning to the Baroque is
anticipated.
The central altarpiece, the Deposition,48 is framed by two scenes which Bronzino painted
later and which represent the Annunciation. The Deposition is sometimes seen as a
combination between such types as Pietà and Deposition and it has been argued that the
scene actually presents not the very moment of Christ’s Deposition, but instead, with the
presence of the Eucharistic and liturgical objects in the very painting, an abstract
allegory of the meaning of Christ’s death. It was in this Deposition, and in the Eleonora
Chapel in general, that a classicised High Maniera style reached its climax in Bronzino’s
work, reincorporating the elements of the High Renaissance, whilst eliminating what
many saw as the nervousness and neuroticism of the Early Mannerism present in his
earlier works.
In these early years as a court painter, Bronzino also painted an allegory which is often
seen as a secular counterpoint of the Deposition, the Allegory of Venus and Cupid (1540-45,
47 This particular scene is often seen as proto-Baroque, its style being in obvious contrast to the other three
scenes.
48 For an influence of Bronzino’s Deposition on Courbet, see Levine, Steven Z., “Courbet, Bronzino and
Blasphemy,” New Literary History, Vol. 22., No. 3 (Summer 1991), 677-714.
34
National Gallery, London), since it represents a mother and a child and can also be seen
as both a religious yet pagan image. Of particular interest is the fact that the Allegory was
sent to Francis I almost immediately after being painted and such diplomatic
transactions with what are among the most beautiful paintings by Bronzino testify both
to the aesthetic judgement of his patrons (the Medicis), as well as to their true value as an
objects of art to their owners. The Deposition and the London Allegory have been seen
often as the culmination of Bronzino’s mature style, which emanated in images of rare
artificiality. This quality often led the critics to describe the figures in these two
What followed after these two paintings are numerous court portraits of the Medici and
their children: Bia di Cosimo de’ Medici (1542, Uffizi, Florence), Giovanni de’ Medici (1545,
Uffizi, Florence), Eleonora of Toledo-Medici with Giovanni de’ Medici (1546, Uffizi, Florence)
and Cosimo I de’ Medici in Armour (1545-46, Uffizi, Florence), all of which are
undoubtedly originals and not bottega copies produced by his studio. The two latter
portraits of the Duke and the Duchess show them dressed in different ways according to
their gender roles: the Duke as pater patria, in detailed armour that features spikes and in
which his hands in all their morbidezza appear as strangely juxtaposed to his rigid facial
detail and turned in this way almost into a stiff armour-like membrane, appears as no
more approachable than the Duke, despite the elegance and grandezza of her posture.
And it was her passion for pearls, reflected in this remarkable portrait, that may have
35
We now have some new documentation on the process of how Bronzino worked on
these portraits for the Duchess. It seems from this that Bronzino was not quick in
executing his portraits. He would usually start by making a drawing of the face and only
later add the clothes that were often chosen by Duchess Eleonora to suit certain dynastic
interests. These clothes often would be sent to Bronzino so that he could paint after them
in his studio, without the sitter in front of him. And for arranging such particularities of
the portraits, the costumes or the background, the Duchess would ask for Bronzino
indirectly, that is by summoning him through a series of letters, either from a major-
domo or another court official. One other interesting fact we found in the most recent
studies49 of the relationship between the Duchess and Bronzino: Since studio copies
were not rare in those times, and perhaps because Bronzino took more time than
necessary, the Duchess Eleonora in her letters complained that a copy of a portrait done
by Bronzino was not executed as well as by the painter himself. Thus we see that
Bronzino’s style was recognised by the Duchess and that it was not a style easy to
To summarise briefly: These years around 1545 are considered to be the pinnacle in
Bronzino’s development – he portrayed the Ducal family, he painted frescoes for the
Duchess’ private chapel, two of his paintings were sent as diplomatic gifts to foreign
dignitaries, and eventually the Duke entrusted him with another major commission –
the tapestries showing the Life of Joseph (1549-53). The complexities of the subjects of
Cfr. Beyond Isabella, ed. Reiss, Sheryl E, and Wilkins, David G. (Kirksville, Mo.: Truman State University
49
Press, 2001)
36
these tapestries, which constitute perhaps the most demanding task that Bronzino was
ever given, will have to be excluded from our brief description of his entire opus. This is
mainly due to the fact that he had substantial help when working on the tapestries from
Alessandro Allori, which raises the question of their attribution and thus prevents us
from analysing them in greater detail. The preparatory drawings for the tapestries still
exist and perhaps in them the development of Bronzino’s mature style can be traced
Cosimo’s desire to establish an absolute rule over the city of Florence. The Duchess on
the other hand supported the Jesuits and was more eager to allow the clergy to intervene
with the state. However, Cosimo also strove to establish institutions of major cultural
prestige, and he founded the Florentine Academy in 1541, the literary academy of the
Elevate in 1547 and the Accademia del Disegno in 1563. These political and institutional
changes may have affected the literati, as well as the artists, now required to produce art
that was meant to constitute dynastic propaganda for the Medici. Perhaps this even
affected the style in which the artists worked, for according to some sources, Pontormo’s
tortured frescoes at San Lorenzo were “one of the last manifestations of an intense
individuality which the new age did not entirely comprehend.”50 Thus, while Bronzino
was engaged in working on the tapestries (which perhaps was the reason he was not
given the commission at San Lorenzo) Pontormo in his last monumental fresco
37
attempted to compete with Michelangelo Buonarroti’s Last Judgement (1535-41, Sistine
Chapel, Rome) It was Bronzino who in 1556 after Pontormo’s death finished this cycle at
San Lorenzo (according to McCorquodale he only finished the Flood and the Resurrection)
which was seen in later history as rather inglorious, leading to its eradication in the
eighteenth century, and we will explain the intricacies of Bronzino’s paintings in the
In 1546 or 1547 Bronzino may have visited Rome, and there he probably painted the
portrait of Stefano Colonna (1546, Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica, Rome). In 1548
Bronzino again visited Rome for a month, and this was a visit for which we have reliable
records. There in Rome the main influence on Bronzino was that of Michelangelo, who
in a sonnet written in 1561 he called “’the Wonder of Nature, Angel elect.’”51 It seems
that Bronzino’s stay in Rome resulted in a clear change in his style which can be seen if
we compare his religious work before and after 1548. Earlier religious works by
Bronzino, Holy Family with St. Anne and the Infant St. John (of which two different
versions exist – one in Vienna (1545-46, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna) and another
in the Louvre (not dated)) as well as his later version of the Deposition, which was to
replace the one planned for the Eleonora Chapel (1541-45, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence) and
given away upon its completion, when compared to Bronzino’s two major works from
this period – the Descent of Christ into Limbo (1552, Soprintendenza alle Gallerie, Florence)
and the Resurrection of Christ (1552, Santissima Annunziata, Florence) – demonstrate this
new Roman influence. Now Bronzino changed his style by abandoning brilliant and
51 Ibid., 112-13.
38
vivid palette of the original Deposition and perhaps more generally of the Eleonora Chapel,
the later version of the Deposition which took him another ten years to paint.
To speak of these religious works more: The commission for Resurrection at the
Santissima Annunziata came in 1548 from the Guadagni brothers and it took Bronzino
four years to finish this monumental and highly influential painting, which brought the
court painter to a more public arena of the sacral edifice. The Descent of Christ into Limbo
(1552) was to be placed at an even more prestigious location, namely at the church of
Santa Croce. It seems that the combination of grace and the influence from Michelangelo
brought this painting high praises when it was unveiled; however, very soon after
public taste seem to have changed and under the notion of decorum issuing from the
Raffaello Borghini. Of The Resurrection he wrote in 1584: “’For pity’s sake, let us not even
discuss that.’”52 And the Descent of Christ into Limbo is said not only to have displeased
Borghini, but also many others who saw it after him in later centuries (Ruskin and
Wölfflin are mentioned amongst them) who found it indecorous, lascivious in content
and deprived of a clear narrative. The painting was eventually taken from Zanchini
Chapel in Santa Croce in 1821 and now can be seen in Soprintendenza alle Gallerie in
Florence.
Between 1550 and 1556 Bronzino painted two allegorical paintings which are usually
seen as variations on his London Allegory. These are known as Venus, Cupid and Jealousy
52 Ibid., 115.
39
(1550, Szépművészeti Múzeum, Budapest) and Venus, Cupid and a Satyr (1555, Colonna
Gallery, Rome). These two pictures are often seen as feeble attempts to achieve the level
not support. To this same period belongs an exquisite Saint John the Baptist (1556,
Galleria Borghese, Rome) which shows a strange deviation from Bronzino’s style in
these years.
There are numerous portraits of the Medici and of the chief citizens of Florence and
Rome painted from 1540 to 1559 that have survived, even if not all of them are of equal
value in execution, and many of them were not necessarily either finished or painted by
Bronzino, and are attributed now often to Francesco Salviati or Sebastiano del Piombo.
We will not comment on these in great detail, but mention will be made only of the
paintings which are undoubtedly by Bronzino and which mark the development of his
style. The portraits of Maria de’ Medici as a Girl (1551, Uffizi, Florence) and Francesco de’
Medici as a Boy (1551, Uffizi, Florence) both show similarities to Bronzino’s earlier mode
of depicting the Ducal family – in the elimination of the background, which gives to
these portraits a private quality, and in the insistence on the details of their attire. To
these two portraits, we would add the one also of Eleonora of Toledo (1560, Staatliche
Museum, Berlin) which may be seen, owing to the weary features of her face that
1562. Two exquisite portraits which set completely different stylistic issues survive from
this period as well: Lodovico Capponi (1556-59, The Frick Collection, New York) and Laura
Battiferri (1560, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence). The former recalls earlier works by Bronzino,
with its background eliminated and yet enlivened by a drapery that dominates the
40
colour scheme of the painting. It could be seen as the closest pictorial relative to the
much earlier Portrait of a Young Man (1529). In Laura Battiferri the sombre colours and
background treated almost in chiaroscuro only serve to accentuate the minute details of
the face, the hands, the dress and the book that she presents to us with authentic
sprezzatura.
The final years of Bronzino's have been described often as boring, as inflated images for
comment may also be due to the fact that in that period, between 1559 and his death,
Bronzino did not produce a single major portrait, the genre that made him famous;
instead, he devoted himself to religious themes. The melancholy mood of the old master
was seen by many as related to the successive deaths of Pontormo, Eleonora of Toledo,
Michelangelo and Benedetto Varchi. And during these final years Bronzino was expelled
even from the Academy and dismissed from the Medici court, for reasons unknown to
us. All we have is a letter54 in which Bronzino, the courtier, thanks the Duke for
dismissing him and promises he will be at his disposal for any future commission, if
necessary. His final paintings include the Annunciation paintings for the Elenora Chapel,
the Noli me Tangere (1560-65, painted for Santo Spirito, Florence, now in the Louvre), the
Nativity (1564, Church of the Cavaliers of San Stefano, Pisa), Allegory of Happiness (1567-
70, Uffizi, Florence), The Resurrection of Jarus’s Daughter (1570, Sta Maria Novella,
Florence) and Pietà (1570, Santa Croce, Florence). Bronzino was also heavily involved in
painting allegorical decorations for the marriage of Cosimo’s son Francesco with Joanna
53 Ibid., 145.
54 The fragment of the letter is given in Brock, Op. Cit., 305.
41
of Austria. And although the paintings, which were exhibited in this procession at the
Carria Bridge did not survive, we still have two drawings Virtues of Love Chasing the
Vices (1565, Christ Church Gallery, Oxford) and Allegory of Hymen with Venus Crowned by
the Muses (1565, Louvre, Cabinet des Dessins, Paris), which can be seen as a later stage in
Lorenzo, Florence)
The fresco of the Martyrdom of St Lawrence at the Church of San Lorenzo is considered to
be his last major commission. Still tainted even among modern scholars by the
comments it provoked amongst the critics and men of letters who were influenced by
the acts of the Tridentine Council, the Martyrdom is often seen today as an unsuccessful
work, full of distraction, and as one of Mannerism’s most monumental failures from
More generously it has been seen by Maurice Brock, who interpreted this fresco as the
supremacy of Michelangelo’s art and style (which Bronzino expressed in this work by
detail later, as we will attempt to view it in a different way than most of the scholars on
Bronzino.
To conclude: we can see in this brief account of Bronzino’s life and work that his stylistic
accounts, by a decline towards the end of his career), was said to have started with the
42
Budapest Adoration of 1535-40. What remains undisputable is that Bronzino, through
Pontormo, had become a figure present at the court of the Medici, and that his skills as a
portrait painter brought him a permanent position with a monthly salary and pension
afterwards. He was also highly regarded by other younger artists of the period, and he
became a member of the Academy. By the end of his life, however, he grew out of
favour at the court, and thus he lost his position at court and at the Academy, his salary
and pension.55
55In certain accounts of his life and its representation, such as that of Elizabeth Pilliod, both Pontormo and
Bronzino were removed from the court and then misrepresented in Le Vite by Giorgio Vasari. Cf. Pilliod,
Elizabeth, Pontormo, Bronzino, Allori: A Genealogy of Florentine Art (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press,
2001).
43
Chapter II.
The accounts here in what follows will constitute an intertwined historiography both on
Bronzino and on Mannerism. This is necessary because the accounts that signalled the
switch towards the general attitude of the period of Mannerism often included
references to the works of Bronzino, and indeed we found it useful to quote them here.
Firstly we can include here the observations on Bronzino’s paintings made by his
their clear friendship, Vasari did not dedicate a separate chapter to the life of Bronzino.
Instead, he dispersed his comments on Bronzino, dividing them mostly between the
chapter on Pontormo, Bronzino’s master, and the chapter devoted to the Florentine
Academicians. This perhaps can be explained as a consequence of the fact that Vasari
was competing with Bronzino for the commissions at the Medici court and that, when
Vasari wrote the second edition of Le Vite in 1568, Bronzino was still alive. But still
Vasari did not hesitate to praise Bronzino calling him “a truly excellent artist, and one
worthy of all praise”57 in his chapter on the Florentine Academicians. Thus, it may be
56 Vasari’s accounts on Bronzino are both perplexing and precious, though it was demonstrated on several
occasions that many of Vasari’s attributions of Bronzino’s paintings were incorrect. However, Vasari's Le
Vite provides us with numerous descriptions of the works of Bronzino that are now lost, such as his apparati.
57 Vasari, Giorgio, Lives Of the most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects, trans. Mrs. Foster, Jonathan
44
more correct to speak of Vasari’s treatment of Bronzino as showing a certain
However, it can be argued that the ambiguous conclusions reached by Vasari in his
Not only did most of the recent authors we read compare Bronzino’s and Pontormo’s
styles and paintings, often accusing Bronzino of imitating Pontormo’s style, but also
they have centred their accounts on determining the exact moment when the styles58 of
the two painters diverged. It was only recently that Elizabeth Pilliod has produced a
detailed study of the relationship between Pontormo, Bronzino and Alessandro Allori
and between their often stylistically similar works. Pilliod opened yet another important
topic: she claimed that it was due to Vasari’s favouritism and also because of the
influence of his book that Pontormo was misrepresented and hence today seen as
because of the claims by Chastel that we will address later in this thesis, that it was
Pontormo and not either Michelangelo or Raphael, who was central for the proto-
In his evaluation of Bronzino’s paintings, Vasari praised highly both his religious
pictures and his portraits. Thus he called The Deposition of Christ (1542-45, Musée des
58These stylistic similarities can be seen as a result of Bronzino’s apprenticeship with Pontormo and their
numerous collaborations. As a consequence of this, in Vasari's own words “the two artists, for a certain time,
resembled each other.” [Vasari, Giorgio, Lives Of the most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. 5,
trans. Mrs. Foster, Jonathan (London: H. G. Bohn, 1885-91), 467.]
45
Beaux Arts, Besançon)59 in the Chapel of Eleonora de Toledo (1540-46, Palazzo Vecchio,
“exhibiting...many nude figures of men and women, old and young, with children, all
Pontormo’s and Bronzino’s frescoes at the Chapel of San Lorenzo and concluded that
“here Bronzino displayed judgement superior to that shown by Pontormo, his master, in
the same place.”62 From these comments it seems that Vasari was more interested here in
the concepts of varietà and difficoltà in forms than in any issue of the appropriateness of
extraordinary care, and finished with delicacy which left nothing to desire,”63 and it seems
that apart from the social signals Bronzino was able to represent, it was these qualities of
59To avoid confusion about this particular painting, we remind the reader that the painting in Besançon is
the original version of the centrepiece of the Eleonora Chapel (1541-45, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence). After
Cosimo I had sent this painting to France as a present to the Keeper of the Seals of Charles V, Bronzino was
commissioned to paint a replacement which is still exhibited in the Chapel in Florence. The two versions
differ in colouration.
60 Vasari, Giorgio, Lives Of the most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. 5, trans. Mrs. Foster,
Ibid., 472.
61
Ibid., 474.
62
Often Vasari criticised Pontormo’s character as well as his paintings. However, the relation between the
master and the apprentice was seen by Vasari as harmonious:
"Bronzino was much favoured by Jacopo [da Pontormo] for his tractability, good humour and diligence in
imitating his master, and he designed and coloured in a way that was an earnest of his future perfection,
seen in our own day." [Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. 3, (London:
Everyman’s Library, 1963), 151 ("The Life Of Lappoli").]
46
Duke Cosimo de Medici to employ him as a painter at his court. According to Vasari, the
Duke perceived “that he [Bronzino] was particularly successful in painting from life,
should be seen in connexion with the notion of sprezzatura, was offered by Vasari in his
life of Battista Franco. Vasari here compared Bronzino’s and Franco’s paintings in the
following terms:
"But in spite of his diligence he [Franco] was surpassed by Bronzino and the others, who
were inferior to him in design but who excelled him in invention, vigour and the
treatment of grisaille, for, as we have elsewhere remarked, paintings must be executed
with ease and the things disposed with judgement, too much effort making them appear
hard and crude."65
When considering Bronzino’s style one should keep in mind these lines by Vasari. They
suggest that the notion of effortlessness was central to the value judgement of sixteenth-
century art, and this, we would claim, at least in this case, for Vasari66, reflected the
domination of one criterion over another, namely, the domination of style over form.67
64Ibid., 470-71.
65Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vo876521l. 4, (London: Everyman’s
Library, 1963), 18, Emphasis Added.
66 Here we would like to remind the reader that in spite of the Acts of the Council of Trent, Vasari did not
make concessions in his narratives that would seem as necessary after what was the dispute in the artistic
arena became available to harsh criticism from the Church. One famous example is that he did not change in
his depiction of the decline of Roman art the negative role that Christianity had in stylistic change to Early
Christian art which needless to say led to further decline in the Middle Ages.
67 Such an interpretation is unacceptable for certain authors who interpret maniera as the “working method”
and not as “style.” Cf. Miedema, Hessel, “On Mannerism and maniera,” Simiolus: Netherlands Quaterly for the
History of Art (1978‐79), 19‐45.
47
As all this shows, Vasari did not intend to evaluate Bronzino’s art in connexion with the
general notion of the decline of style that was only hinted at in his work. Nevertheless,
such an interpretation was to appear in the same century in which Vasari wrote Le Vite
when the notion of decline seemed further opened, that is, in Raffaello Borghini’s book Il
Riposo published in 1584. Influenced by the suggestions for artists introduced by the
Tridentine Council, Borghini condemned the religious paintings of Bronzino on the basis
of their lasciviousness. In her recent book After Raphael: Painting in Central Italy in the
paintings in great detail. She claimed that Borghini “criticizes the same faults [as Gilio
and Paleotti, whose writings on art were under the influence of the Tridentine Council],
such as a Christ who is shown without sufficient evidence of his suffering or the
addition to a narrative of people who were not alive at the time.”68 We would agree here
with Hall, who saw the reason for Borghini’s condemnation in the shift of aesthetic
criteria influenced by the Tridentine Council. She claimed that “[t]he aesthetic [of the
paintings that fail as arte sacra also do not meet the standard as good art.”69 Most
importantly, Hall informed us that “[t]he exquisitely sensuous angel standing next to
Christ [in Bronzino’s Resurrection of Christ] was condemned as lascivious, of course, but
then it was praised as a work of art that one would love to have in one’s home – a
position we do not find articulated by his clerical counterparts.”70 Here the words
68 Hall, Marcia B., After Raphael: Painting in Central Italy in the Sixteenth Century (Cambridge; New York:
Cambridge University Press, 1999), 247
69 Ibid., 247. Questionable here, however, is whether Borghini was indeed an exponent of post-Maniera or of
Maniera theory. Quite a different interpretation of Borghini's writings can be found in Blunt, Anthony,
Artistic Theory in Italy, 1450-1600 (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1940).
70 Ibid., 247, Emphasis Added.
48
we will know that in classical antiquity the art which panders to the senses (like the
of the usage of the dictionary of critical terms related to the notion of the development of
And to turn again to Borghini: he claimed that one of the figures in Bronzino’s
Resurrection of Christ (1552, Santissima Annunziata, Florence) could arouse the viewer in
an inappropriate manner. Thus, Borghini did not criticise Bronzino’s style itself but its
texts: Shearman quoted a very useful example from Bishop Cirillo Franco’s letters
painted on the Sistine ceiling. Shearman related Bishop Franco’s condemnation of the
nudes to the then contemporary theory of decorum, which is perhaps a better framework
to use when discussing Mannerist art than that which derives from the Modernist
dichotomy of form and content. To conclude: in Borghini’s criticism we can trace today a
sense of a mild condemnation; However, what is important for us in Borghini is that the
critical terms borrowed from classical rhetoric make their appearance again. We shall
return to Borghini and his comments later when analysing in greater detail Bronzino’s
71 An anticipation of such criticism can be found in earlier texts: Shearman quoted a very useful example
from Bishop Cirillo Franco’s letters (written in 1549 and eventually published in 1567) regarding
Michelangelo’s nudes painted on the Sistine ceiling [Shearman, Mannerism (Harmondsworth, Middlesex,
Eng.: Penguin, 1967), 168]. Shearman related Bishop Franco’s condemnation of the nudes to the then
contemporary theory of decorum, which is perhaps a better framework to use when discussing Mannerist art
than that which derives from the Modernist dichotomy of form and content.
49
A century later Giovanni Pietro Bellori, in his book The Lives of Annibale and Agostino
Carracci published in 1672, was significantly harsher in his evaluation of this art than
Borghini, identifying Mannerism and condemning it en général. Bellori claimed that the
Mannerists abandoned “the study of nature”72 and produced art which was dependent
on “the fantastic idea based on practice and not on imitation.”73 From Bellori's position,
which can be defined as arguing for what has been called an "empirical eclecticism,"74
and there are several examples from the nineteenth century which show both the impact
upon later art criticism of the model of decline and of Borghini's and Bellori's comments.
Cinquecento art did not offer detailed accounts either on Bronzino or on the Mannerist
painters, rather generally condemning all of Italian art after High Renaissance.
In his book The History of Painting in Italy; The Period of the Revival of the Fine Arts to the
End of the Eighteenth Century Luigi Lanzi grouped the Italian painters into regional
schools: Accordingly, Pontormo75 belonged to the second period of the Florentine school
72 Bellori, Giovanni Pietro, The Lives of Annibale and Agostino Carracci, trans. Enggass, Catherine (University
Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1968), 5.
73 Ibid., 6.
74 Enggass, Catherine, “Foreword,” Ibid., xvi.
75Lanzi wrote of Pontormo as of “a man of rare genius.” [Lanzi, Luigi, The History of Painting in Italy; The
Period of the Revival of the Fine Arts to the End of the Eighteenth Century, Volume I, transl. Roscoe, Thomas,
(London: Henry G. Bohn, Covent garden, 1852): 159] Within Pontormo’s paintings at the cloisters of Certosa
del Galuzzo monastery, Lanzi distinguished four different styles. It was the second style, in which “the
drawing is good, but the colouring somewhat languid,” [Ibid., 160] that, on Lanzi’s view, “became the model
for Bronzino and the artists of the succeeding epoch.” [Ibid., 160.]
50
which included Leonardo and Michelangelo, while Bronzino belonged to the third
period which began with the painters Lanzi defined as the imitators of Michelangelo
and to which Lanzi ascribed certain qualities of decline. In his terms, painters of this
period merely imitated sculptural works of Michelangelo, paid more attention to design,
and neglected the other aspects of painting. Finally, they became “[c]ontented with what
they imagined grandeur of style,”76 which led them to neglect “all the rest.”77 The
decline, according to Lanzi, “commenced about 1540”78 and lasted for two to three
generations. About the painters of this epoch Lanzi concluded: “Few of them were
eminent as colourists, but many in design; few were entirely free from mannerism...."79 We
can see in these comments by Lanzi how Mannerist interest in style was turned against
the art itself, becoming a foundation for all later art-criticism based as this was merely
on formal analysis.80
In Chapter XXIV of Handbook of Painting: The Italian Schools (1837) another nineteenth-
century scholar, Franz Kugler, elaborated on what he saw as a decline of Italian art after
Raphael. This he attributed to the superficial and formalist imitation of earlier works,
80Bronzino was, according to Lanzi, “enumerated among the more eminent artists, from the grace of his
countenances, and the agreeableness of his compositions.” (Ibid., 191, Emphasis Added.) In Lanzi’s
description of Bronzino’s religious paintings, the traces of Borghini’s criticism as well as of the dictionary of
decline are evident:
“Some of his altar-pieces are in the churches of Florence, several feebly executed, with figures of angels, whose
beauty appears to soft and effeminate.” (Ibid., 191, Emphasis Added)
51
occurred in the late sixteenth century. We can quote here much from the paragraph in
which he explains the process of decline that he saw in Italian Cinquecento art:
“The merely external characteristics of the great masters became, therefore, the objects of
imitation; first with due modesty, and then with gradually increasing boldness, till the
greatest exaggerations ensued.”81
The notion of originality appears to be central for Kugler’s evaluation, but it seems to me
that his account was awkward, since he did not think of the Mannerists as inferior to the
painters of the past. Instead, he merely criticised them for being latecomers,82 or what we
always can call epigones. In his view, portraits were spared from the taint of maniera83
“Many of the [Mannerist] painters in question would, fifty years earlier, have done great
things; they now, for the most part, fell into repulsive mannerism, because no longer
supported by those principles of harmony and beauty which, at the beginning of the
sixteenth century, had inspired even mediocre talent to noble purposes. Where immediate
truth to nature was required – as, for instance, in the portraits – great excellence was,
however, displayed.” 84
The decline of art was in Kugler’s terms the result of a certain moral decline which befell
“It is melancholy to observe how from this [Mannerist] time painters and patrons
contributed more and more to demoralize each other; the one playing the part of the
courtiers and intrigants, the other that of capricious tyrants.”85
81 Kugler, Franz, Handbook of Painting: The Italian Schools, Volume 2 [Originally ed. by the late Sir Charles L.
82 In other words, Kugler criticised them because they were epigoni. Cf. Infra, Chapter IV on the Epigoni
(152-226)
83 We refer to the pejorative connotation of the term maniera.
84 Kugler, Op. Cit., 641, Emphasis Added. The Emphasis refers to the notion mentioned in the main body of
the text earlier of the latecomers or epigone. The lines in italics can be seen as echoing Bellori’s
condemnation of Mannerism. Infra, 152 -226.
85 Kugler, Op. Cit., 641.
52
Kugler's conclusion is very important, because he activated another variation of the
model of decline here, the decline in terms of moral corruption. This construct, in turn,
could be seen as having serious implications vis-à-vis portraits, for even by these
demoralising and demoralised painters, they had some formal artistic values (based on
their naturalistic qualities), yet still in Kugler's terms they would have been seen as
“Angiolo di Cosimo, called il Bronzino, was another intimate friend of Vasari, and a
scholar and imitator of Pontormo. His portraits are fine, though his colouring is often
inferior.”86
Jakob Burckhardt’s lines on the state of Italian art after Raphael in his book The Cicerone
passage like this seems infused with certain philosophical, theological and biological
metaphors:
“The time of full bloom is indeed but short, and even then those who failed to reach the
goal still continued in their old way; among them some excellent painters. We may say
that the short lifetime of Raphael (1483-1520) witnessed the rise of all that was most
perfect, and that immediately after him, even with the greatest who outlived him, the
decline began. But this perfect ideal was created, once for all, for the solace and
admiration of all time, will live for ever, and bear the stamp of immortality.”87
53
Burckhardt’s account of Bronzino was brief and expressed a typical nineteenth-century
attitude towards his art, according to which his portraits, on the basis of their realistic
A little later Giovanni Morelli commented succinctly on Bronzino’s portraits, which for
him were not seen as being comparable to “the best”89 ones by Leonardo, del Sarto and
Correggio, for the critical terms, used mainly for describing Bronzino’s religious
“[T]he elegance displayed in the portraits of the Tuscan Bronzino and of the North Italian
Parmigianino is not spontaneous, but artificial and external, standing in no relation to the
inward personality. This new tendency marks the first period of decline in art.”90
Morelli's argument against Bronzino here almost seems Modernist, for it was the
discrepancy between the form and the content that made Bronzino's painting seem
inauthentic.
Florentine Painters of the Italian Renaissance (1896) are so negative that they read as the
88 Ibid., 134. It is not immediately clear what Burckhardt meant by the term “historical painter.” We can only
suppose that it could mean the painter of the istoria, a term that would then embrace all of Bronzino’s
paintings except his portraits.
89 Morelli, Giovanni, Italian Painters: Critical Studies of Their Works, vol. II, tr. Foulkes, Constance Jocelyn,
54
continuation of the nineteenth-century critical discourse about Mannerism. He
fortunately, on the other hand, he had “much of his power as a portrait painter.”92 For
Berenson, Bronzino’s nudes were deprived of any other but formal meaning, because he
painted “[t]he nude without material or spiritual significance, with no beauty of design
Let us now turn to more recent and lengthier art criticism. By now Walter Friedlaender's
Mannerism was highly influential and from the nineteen-twenties onward, a number of
studies concerned with Mannerism appeared; this change of attitude can be noticed in
Bronzino.
But to present this material clearly, the pattern of the narration needs to be changed.
Firstly, we will give a brief outline of the twentieth-century model of rise and decline as
applied to Mannerism and to Bronzino’s opus, and then, secondly, address the recent
interpretations of Bronzino's paintings based on a typological model, that is, one which
necessary in order to separate the general from the more specific accounts, and yet to
91 Berenson, Bernard, The Italian Painters of the Renaissance, (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1980), 72
92 Ibid., 72.
93 Ibid., 72
94 Ibid., 72.
95 Ibid., 72.
96 We will address his general model of stylistic development within Mannerism in Chapter III, Infra,
55
avoid separating them to such an extent that the general accounts could be seen as not
communicating with the specific ones, for we believe that the pattern established within
a broader art-historical narrative was often projected onto the work of the artists (i.e.
that the model of decline was applied both to Mannerism and to the opus of Bronzino).
After Friedlaender's work it was not possible to see the entire period of Mannerism as a
decline. Yet the notion itself did not disappear, for now it merely was transferred from
general to particular, that is to say, from the entire period of Mannerist art to its different
sub-periods. This means that if there was seen to be a peak of art within Mannerism
itself, there was then a point of stylistic development from which Mannerist art itself
was seen to decline. We have identified two different models of stylistic evaluation in
the current art criticism of Mannerism so far. The first model is based on Friedlaender's
accounts, and it interprets the early stage of Mannerism as the peak of the period, after
which the art declined to what is seen as a stage of stylisation and academism. The
second model positions the middle period of Mannerism (that which can be called High
Maniera) as the peak after which the decline began. The exponents of the former model
nervous qualities of early Mannerism, which were seen as being similar to the
contemporary art of Expressionism, whilst the exponents of the latter model sought to
find certain classical qualities within Mannerism and to promote this particular
classicising and courtly stage into a pinnacle of artistic and stylistic development. It is
obvious that both models could not evade the evaluative judgement of their
56
examples of the inevitable application of the model of decline, a model that indeed is
Pontormo’s later art Friedlaender saw a certain decline, which occurred during his
“Michelangelesque period, which for a time brings him into direct dependence on that great
man,”97 and which led him to finish his opus with “his strange frescoes for San
Lorenzo.”98 Friedlaender also saw Bronzino as carrying on his master’s original style:
“[I]n his pupil Bronzino his trend is carried on, not only in the portrait, but above all in
the figure and space composition."99
More recently Arnold Hauser included Bronzino’s work in the first, initial phase of
Mannerism. That is to say that Bronzino, in Hauser's terms, painted before the
Mannerist movement became maniera, (that is, before “the style gave itself to
academicians,”100 and therefore lost its initial “revolutionary spirit of the avant-
garde”101). However, when comparing Bronzino with Pontormo and Rosso Fiorentino,
97 Friedlaender, Mannerism and Anti-Mannerism in Italian Painting, (New York: Columbia University Press,
achieving the effects of depth “through adding up layers of volumes” [Ibid., 8] whereas the bodies “more or
less displace the space, that is, they themselves create the space.” [Ibid., 8.]
100 Hauser, Arnold, Mannerism: The Crisis of the Renaissance and the Origin of Modern Art, trans. Mosbacher,
Mannerism
57
and pedantic.”102 Also, he drew a stylistic parallel between Bronzino and Parmigianino,
physique and the muscular system, sculpture-like modelling, marble-like coldness and
terms, was opening the way for what he pejoratively could call Vasarian academism.
Craig Smyth writing in 1963106 can be seen as representing the group of art historians107
who did not dismiss the second phase of Mannerism on the grounds of a decline related
to issues of morals and politics. Instead, he (and other historians who followed his views
Cecchi, Alessandro, Bronzino, transl. Evans, Christopher (New York: SCALA/Riverside, 1996), and Hall, Op.
Cit.
108How did the classical elements come to be fused with Mannerism? According to Craig Smyth, the
Mannerists of the classicising (second) period were influenced by ancient sarcophagi relief and statuary. [In
a formalist study of Bronzino’s drawings titled Bronzino as Draughtsman; An Introduction, With Notes on His
Portraiture and Tapestries Smyth related what he saw as distinctiveness of Bronzino’s portraiture style to his
experiences outside of Florence. As particularly influential in forming Bronzino’s classicist style Smyth
found the Idolino (a Greek or a Roman sculpture discovered near the Villa Imperiale outside Pesaro in 1530).
[Cf. Smyth, Craig Hugh, Bronzino as Draughtsman; An Introduction, With Notes on His Portraiture and Tapestries
(Locust Valley, N.Y.: J. J. Augustin, 1971)]
However, in Smyth's view, Mannerism declined exactly because of the inspiration it drew from another
artistic medium, that is from sculpture and relief. Smyth claimed that this led to “dehumanization, loss of
vitality and sensuous plastic power, the acceptance of slack structure, bland surfaces, de-individualization,
monotony, and the relief-inspired disruption of painterly coherence.”108 [Smyth, Craig Hugh, “Mannerism
and Maniera,”, in Readings in Italian Mannerism, ed. de Girolami Cheney, Liana (New York: P. Lang, 1997), 93]
58
recognised by Elizabeth Cropper in her introduction to the re-issue of his study. Here
Cropper argued for Smyth’s “critical analysis of its [Mannerist] virtues”109 and also for
his concept of Mannerism’s “potential decay.”110 Accordingly, “Smyth not only defined
a style, but also created for it a history that separated its own decline from the notion of
the classicism of the High Renaissance.”111 Yet perhaps Smyth did not succeed in
interpreting Mannerism in a fundamentally new way, because he too fell subject in his
judgement of this art to the same criteria that formerly had been used for evaluating the
Smyth’s opinions can be seen in a paragraph from Alessandro Cecchi, who claimed that
in some of his later work Bronzino either returned to the enfeebled version of
Whilst Smyth saw elements of classicism in Bronzino’s work, especially in his religious paintings, Shearman
argued for a certain ambiguity of Bronzino’s style vis-à-vis classicism. Also, he observed certain stylistic and
compositional similarities between Bronzino’s religious and allegorical paintings:
“Bronzino’s erotic Allegory is, as a whole, undifferentiated in appearance from his contemporary Christ in
Limbo and both pictures have the same cold, polished and unreal colour. Bronzino employs expression in the
same way as Marenzio in madrigal...; it is an artifice, an ornament, a component of style, and not, as in truly
classical works, a factor that controls all these. It illustrates wider Mannerist paradoxes, for it is in another
sense classical, being based on antique precept; and while its function is partly to add internal varietà its
effect is to induce a superficial sameness.” [Shearman, John K. G., Mannerism (Harmondsworth, Middlesex,
Eng.: Penguin, 1967), 101]
109 Cropper, Elizabeth, “Introduction,” Smyth, Craig Hugh, Mannerism and Maniera (Vienna, Austria: 1992), 1.
110 Ibid., 13
111 Ibid., 14.
112Here Cecchi in a way agreed with Fritz Goldschmidt, who also saw Bronzino's last twenty years as
stylistically anachronistic. [Cf. Goldschmidt, Fritz, Pontormo, Rosso und Bronzino (Leipzig: Klinkhardt, 1911),
39].
59
“Even paintings of a small size…with its forced and affected treatment of the
limbs…confirm that the artist’s vein of creativity had partially run dry. Now
conditioned by his admiration for Buonarroti, his work was increasingly distant from
the balance and harmony he had achieved at the peak of his career, in the fifteen
forties.”113
Yet still there were other possible comments voiced at this moment. It may be of use
here to consider briefly a unique view on Mannerism of Sir Kenneth Clark114 writing in
1967. First and foremost, his view is unique in the chronology of Mannerism, because it
limits the process of the disintegration of High Renaissance and the formation of
Mannerism (a term which Clark seems to be reluctant to use) to only fifteen years.
According to Clark, the years between 1520 and 1535 (which we recognise today as the
nervousness (the latter perhaps reflects a pun in the title, a failure of nerve, as if
Mannerism failed because it could not maintain the nervous quality of its initial phase).
Accordingly, after 1535, academic art prevailed and this stylistic turn was seen by Clark
as a period of decline (though he does not use the term decline but failure). The most
interesting conclusion that Clark proposed was about Michelangelo’s Last Judgement,
claiming that it was the last Mannerist painting finished in a period in which Mannerism
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Sydney Freedberg’s book on Mannerism may appear as itself an exercise in style which
led Freedberg as a writer to adopt a kind of literary mannerism. Despite this (or because
Freedberg in his 1968 book situated Bronzino’s style within the High Maniera (a second
style within his subdivision of Mannerism), a style which was, in his terms, based in
“The quota of stylization increases rapidly, however; the native gift for observation that
inclined Bronzino towards reality yields to the authority of the example set him not by
Pontormo but also by Michelangelo’s sculptures….”116
Freedberg constructed here a rather complicated relation of style and form (a relation
“His [Bronzino’s] imposition of high style upon a form consists more nearly in arranging
the objective facts until they almost of themselves begin to yield the effect of a styled
pattern, then intensifying this effect by only restrained arbitrary means, including a
brilliant yet measured exploitation of the possibilities a form may hold of complicating
ornamental rhythm.”117
John Shearman’s views on Mannerism as seen in his 1967 book were different than those
of most of the other authors,118 for he favoured the art of the second generation of
115 Freedberg, Sydney Joseph, Painting in Italy, 1500-1600, (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1975), 295
116 Ibid., 296.
117 Ibid., 297.
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Mannerists, which, for him, truly represented the qualities of what he called the “stylish
style.”119 He rejected all the notions of tension and anxiety that Friedlaender had
continuation of High Renaissance art and for this reason he preferred the early
Mannerism of Rome over that in Florence. The qualities which other authors saw in
Most recently Paul Barlosky gave a complex discussion on what he saw to be the
He started his argument by confirming that his portraits remained admired from
Bronzino’s time until today.120 The first part of Barolsky’s article addresses the term
similarly aspired to high degree of artifice, this term [Mannerism] is nonetheless not true
to the sixteenth century itself in that it is not a word Bronzino and his contemporaries
would have understood.”121 This of course comes directly from Vasari who did not mark
any stylistic shift within the third (and most perfect) stage in the development of the arts,
which began with Leonardo and finished (in the 1550 edition) with Michelangelo.
119Shearman, John, “Maniera as an Aesthetic Ideal” in Readings in Italian Mannerism, ed. de Girolami Cheney,
Liana (New York: P. Lang, 1997), 212.
120Barolsky, Paul, “Bronzino Fictions,” SOURCE: Notes in the History of Art Vol XXV No.2, (New York, Ars
Brevis Foundation, Winter 2006), 23-25.
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More important for us now is that according to Barolsky Jacob Burckhardt “describes
one of Bronzino’s devotional pictures with contempt, but like Berenson after him, who
For Barolsky, Bronzino aspired to paint in a highly artful, graceful manner, the attribute
earlier in the twentieth century. It was in Walter Pater’s book The Renaissance that,
passed into twentieth-century art history. Pater did not write on Bronzino in The
Renaissance, but in his writing there Barolsky saw the descriptions that seem to be as if
The most important terms for Barolsky here when indirectly referring to Bronzino via
Pater were “’grace which comes of long study and reiterated refinements’”123 and for
Pater such French taste was “’naturally akin to that of Italian finesse’”124 which Barolsky
viewers because of its abstraction. “As we often say, in the modern parlance of the
122 Ibid.
123 Ibid., 24
124 Ibid.
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‘Maniera’125 [a term now preferable to mannerism, according to Barolsky, but still not
After having analysed in detail what historical and contemporary sources have
postulated on Mannerism and on Bronzino, we may turn now to a more recent source
approach may seem as leading to a digression, since for these writers Mannerism is a
style which is well established and thus ready to use when describing and evaluating
connections with contemporary art and Mannerism out of this particular reason: because
writers on art not specialised in Mannerism use somewhat fixed, paradigmatic, even
crystallised definitions connected with Mannerism, and thus they present the most
acceptable and most simplified opinion of the audience on Mannerism and Bronzino.
Our exemplar text here, an article titled “Bronzino in the Valley of the Dolls” by Karen
turned into an art show for the fashion house of Versace, by evoking similarities
between Bronzino’s portraits and portraits of the famous fashion photographer, who
crossed the border between high and low art by exhibiting “Four Days in L.A.” at the
features segments from the Versace campaign, which the owner of the gallery, Jay
Miedema alike Barolsky dismisses both Mannerism and maniera as applicable for sixteenth-century art, Cf.
125
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Jopling, commented as “’images [that] exude a kind of ‘50s filmic glamour and recall the
rarefied beauty and iconic distance of Italian Mannerist paintings.’”128 The photographs
capture iconic models (Amber Valetta and Georgina Greenville) dressed up in Upper-
East-Side suits and perhaps more importantly – their dresses, items which are highly
stylised and recognisable to any fashion and many art connoisseurs. Lehrman assures
us that though these images are initially meant for fashion presentation, they have a
quality which stands out. The special status or value that these photographs assume is
due to the fact that they do not celebrate fashion, but instead celebrate themselves,
which may betray a well-known trope related to Mannerism as the style that celebrates
style itself. What these images also celebrate is their own complexity, “their artistry and
“They [Meisel’s photographs] are disturbing, and not only because the women seem to
have just popped a Valium. …Staged to the point of seeming mannered and not just
Mannerist, Meisel’s Versace images can certainly be read as a droll commentary on
American-style luxury.”
And yet, according to the author, they present iced luxury. The iced and sedated (these
words almost call the inevitable – dead) images are also incredibly sophisticated and
“You can’t help feeling that Meisel is having fun with not just the women and the
clothes but with Mannerist masters like Bronzino and Pontormo.”130
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What is most interesting here is that the journalist is not in any way prejudiced against
images of Bronzino, which usually were criticised for their coldness and
inapproachability. She finds in them a quality rarely used when discussing Bronzino in a
“The only way we can talk about beauty after the triumph of anti-beauty, in art as in life,
these photographs suggest, is with a knowing (and maybe loving) ambivalence.”131
We may now turn to a synthesis of our arguments here. If we analyse the sequence
which runs from Vasari's Le Vite to the most recent studies on Mannerism, it seems that
Bronzino’s position within the emerging art-historical discourse was very complicated.
As we have seen, nineteenth-century critics of Mannerist art and then many in the
twentieth century regarded Bronzino’s paintings as better than those of the other
Mannerist painters. Sometimes they were even seen as equal in artistic value to the
paintings of the High Renaissance, and this positive evaluation was based chiefly on
certain qualities seen to inhere in Bronzino's portraits, which were celebrated for their
realism and attention to detail. Following the increased interest in iconographical studies,
the next genre of Bronzino’s work to receive critics’ attention in the late nineteenth and
throughout the course of the twentieth century was his allegorical pictures. Today, it
seems, art historians132 are focusing on Bronzino’s religious paintings, which were
to be discussed.
131Ibid.
132Here we refer to works by Cox-Rearick, Hall and Nagel. All of these authors saw certain classicising
qualities in Bronzino’s religious paintings.
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Before we proceed with an analysis of the texts focusing specifically on Bronzino's
paintings, we would like to classify Bronzino’s pictorial opus. We would suggest that all
The aforementioned classification we decided to include here not only because of the
explained in the previous paragraph, but also because the commentators of Bronzino’s
pictures within the same epoch, as we will see, expressed significant differences in
attitudes towards these particular genres. To be more specific, portraits were almost
always highly regarded, the allegorical and mythological paintings were rarely
provoked the harshest critiques. There is another reason for classifying Broznino’s art in
different genres – in the following chapter we will address the issue of stylistic diversity
within his opus and attempt to show that even within one genre Bronzino was able to
133Like every classification, the one we propose here is based on a certain generalisation. Hence, Bronzino’s
Portrait of Andrea Doria as Neptune, (1533, Pinacoteca Brera, Milan) and Cosimo I de’ Medici as Orpheus (1539,
Philadelphia Museum of Art), for example, resist the model we have decided to apply, by virtue of
combining the realms of real and mythological.
134Bronzino’s allegorical paintings personally we found to be of most interest, probably because of the
chances they offer for different interpretation. The powerlessness of a contemporary art historian to define
the allegorical signification of the figures in such an intricate composition as in the London Allegory
represents was also a source of inspiration for the critics who indulge in explorations of the sixteenth-
century philosophy and iconography. Such paintings also signal the taste of the elite audience they were
painted for, and their intellectual pretensions and abilities. It was probably due to this indecipherable
representational character that Bronzino's allegorical paintings rarely received harsh critiques in the past,
since the art historians were preoccupied with solving the riddle of their meaning.
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We will begin with religious paintings. In twentieth-century art criticism Bronzino's
religious paintings were treated in a manner that seems to correspond to the more
general accounts about this particular genre and in this particular period (i.e. in
Mannerism) made by art historians. The followers of Friedlaender favoured the first
phase of Bronzino’s work, that in which the traces of his master’s style were still
apparent. Smyth and his followers, on the other hand, usually saw the frescoes at
Eleonora Chapel (1541-45, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence) – a work which, according to them,
belongs to the second and the best of the three phases in Bronzino’s stylistic
those images. However, both groups of art historians were unanimous in their
evaluation of the later religious paintings by Bronzino: Those, in their terms, were seen
as indicating a decline. Here we see the stages of reallocation which the model of decline
underwent: It firstly was applied to the whole period starting with the end of the
Renaissance and finishing with the beginning of the Baroque, then it was projected on
certain phases within Mannerism itself, and then, finally, it was applied to the opus of a
Critical for understanding the opinion of the art historians vis-à-vis Bronzino’s religious
paintings is the periodisation of this genre. Therefore, we will attempt to make a succinct
century comments.
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Bronzino’s early religious paintings are similar to those by Pontormo135. It is usually
Budapest) marks the point of Bronzino’s departure from his master’s style. What is
evident in this painting is that Bronzino was less of a Mannerist (at least on
Friedlaender’s account) than his master: The balanced composition of this painting, as
well as the treatment of the background and the classical features of the figures, are
indebted to the achievements of the High Renaissance. Thus, Bronzino’s Adoration can be
defined as more classical than we might expect a painting of this period to be. However,
we would argue that art historians often neglect the elements of Mannerist style in this
particular painting, most notably the postures of the figures, which would be seen in
135 We refer to the frescoes representing two Evangelists in the Capponi Chapel of the Sta. Felicita, Florence.
136The shift in Bronzino’s style occurred, in Freedberg’s terms, in 1540. The Adoration of the Shepherds marked
this change: “It is at once descriptively more normative – more like average expectation – and more classicist
than anything within Bronzino’s earlier, Pontoromoesque mode.” [Freedberg, Op. Cit., 298.]
This painting is often seen as similar to Jacopo Pontormo’s The Martyrdom of St. Maurice (1530, Uffizi,
Florence; a painting sometimes attributed to Brozino), in which the serpentine poses of the bodies recall
Michelangelo, while the background landscape has a certain Northern quality, for which Pontormo was
criticised by Vasari. Also, the terrestrial scene in The Martyrdom of St. Maurice is seen similar to Bronzino’s
previous painting, namely St. Benedict (mid-1520s, Badia, Florence) and The Dead Christ with the Madonna and
the Magdalen (1528-29, Uffizi, Florence), while the group of angels and the whole celestial section of this
painting reflect the influence of Raphael.
137 In our opinion, a painting which received little attention from the art historians, The Madonna and Child
with Saint John the Baptist and a Female Saint, probably Saint Anne (1538-39, National Gallery, London, fig. 26),
is a more important landmark in Bronzino’s opus: It opened up a way for the stylistic change (in terms of
composition, background, and spatial relations between the figures) which later fully emanated in his
frescoes for the Chapel of Eleonora de Toledo. In The Madonna and Child the figures have a porcelain quality
to their complexion (a quality which will in our opinion culminate in the London Allegory) the composition
is compressed and layered, and the background is treated as less important comparing to the one in
Budapest Adoration.
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Bronzino’s frescoes for the private chapel of the Duchess Eleonora138 give us a full taste
of courtly (and thus what Smyth would call classicised) Mannerism in Florence. The
the other hand, calls to mind the vibrancy of Pontormo’s palette, especially in the scene
titled The Brazen Serpent. The Deposition of Christ, the central altarpiece of the Chapel,
seems to have the most balanced composition, and its calm palette is contrasted to the
In Charles McCorquodale’s terms, it was in the frescoes in the Chapel of Eleonora (1541-45,
Palazzo Vecchio, Florence) that Bronzino's style reached its zenith. This happened owing
scheme certain classical elements139, namely those derived from antique statuary.
138A detailed study of Bronzino’s frescoes for the Chapel of Eleonora can be found in Cox-Rearick, Janet,
Bronzino's Chapel of Eleonora in the Palazzo Vecchio, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993). When it
comes to the issues of style, the notion we mostly were interested here, Cox-Rearick applied in the
Introduction to her book Shearman’s phrase “the stylish style” [Cox-Rearick, Op. Cit., 1] to Bronzino’s work
in Florence. Whilst Shearman based his accounts of Mannerism on the art of the second generation of the
Mannerists, Cox-Rearick named Pontormo and Rosso as exponents of this style, thus making Shearman’s
phrase more inclusive.
Of particular importance we found Cox-Rearick’s analysis of the models that Bronzino used while painting
the frescoes in the Chapel – they included Michelangelo’s statuary, the Idolino, the reliefs from the antique
sarcophagi, etc. This in Cox-Rearick’s terms also illustrated the Medicean preference for sculpture as a mean
of propaganda, which also can be seen in relation to the paragone.
When it comes to her critical dictionary, Cox-Rearick used a standard repertoire of terms for Mannerism, as
we see in the following paragraph:
“The frescoes are painted in a grand manner rooted in the style of the Roman High Renaissance [this again
is a Shearmanesque interpretation], but they are characterized by a Maniera taste for artificiality, abundance
and ornamentation....” [Ibid., 138-140, Emphasis Added.]
139At the beginning of his book McCorquodale admitted that some of his accounts are derivative - he was
indebted mostly to Smyth's model of stylistic development within Mannerism as well as to his
interpretation of Bronzino's position within this scheme/model. That is to say that McCorquodale followed
Smyth when assigning classical qualities to those paintings that he considered to be the best works of
Bronzino.
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Renaissance compositional norms: In McCorquodale’s own words, in the Eleonora Chapel
"Bronzino brings all of the High Renaissance's experiments with pyramidal composition
to their fullest resolution."140 The Deposition of Christ in the Chapel of Eleonora is therefore
seen as a work of "rare stylistic and formal unity"141 and of "perfection previously
Needless to say that after such a rise, at least as presented in the critical accounts of the
Eleonora Chapel, a decline was to follow. The final years of Bronzino's are described by
objectivity can one avoid the boredom of many late Bronzino paintings."143
Almost all of the religious paintings Bronzino painted after the frescoes in the Eleonora
Chapel were treated uniformly in the contemporary art criticism: the Descent of Christ into
Limbo (1552, Soprintendenza alle Gallerie, Florence), the Resurrection of Christ (1552,
Santissima Annunziata, Florence), and Noli Me Tangere (1560-65, Louvre, Paris) are
usually seen as overtly stylised and not appropriate for the subject they represent.
In McComb’s terms, Bronzino's Descent of Christ into Limbo "ushers in the decline”144 as
evidenced in the “unpleasant, cold, contorted nudes, [in] this apotheosis of academic
draughtsmanship at the expense of any sense, let alone of paint, -- for that Bronzino
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never had, -- but even of colour.”145 McComb referred to the figure of Christ in this
he claimed that “[i]n the second half of the decade we must place the absurdly mannered
”[S]igns of Agnolo’s progressive decline have been recognised in it [in The Deposition of
Christ, 1565]. And it is true that the overcomplicated composition, with its exaggerated
pathos and the desperation of the figures standing around Christ’s body, is a long way
from the Olympian assurance of the forties.”148
Freedberg also made some comments apropos Bronzino’s later paintings. In his eyes,
Bronzino’s Descent of Christ into Limbo and Resurrection evidence a “dislocation between
the picture’s subject and its content, which consists of its effects of artifice.”149
The fresco that even today remains most notoriously criticised is The Martyrdom of St.
Lawrence (1569, San Lorenzo, Florence). This monumental composition, although done
elements of Renaissance-based Classicism with ones taken from the Mannerist stylistic
145 Ibid., 25
146 Ibid., 27, Emphasis Added..
147 Ibid, 31, Emphasis Added..
148 Cecchi, Op. Cit., 58, Emphasis Added..
149 Freedberg, Op. Cit., 315, Emphasis Added..
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However, McComb saw this fresco as “empty in all significance, devoid of taste, crassly
Lawrence "has a disjointed and artificial appearance," and that the painting itself is
"thronged ... with naked figures in affected poses in the manner of Michelangelo, with
architecture….”151
authors, seen as effeminate, artificial, divorced from nature and spiritual significance, overtly
emotional, and forced into unnatural postures. Not only the representations, but also the
actions they perform are seen as artificial, as if these actions were devised to produce a
paintings what they saw as their inappropriateness for this particular genre, and this
critique obviously can be traced back to Borghini’s Il Riposo. Also, art historians saw
present in these images the notion which Gombrich defined as pandering to the senses,
and it was this notion, which earlier in classical antiquity was condemned to
opprobrium, that the critics negatively referred to when forming their evaluative and
domination of the artist's bravura in representing artificial and contorted postures over
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the natural and probable positions of the human body. Finally, we have seen in these
comments that the notion of artificiality was sometimes interpreted within a Modernist
framework and seen as discrepancy between form and content. All these layers of
critical language remain, as if they were compositional and spatial layers in a High
Maniera painting, compressed within these texts so as to constitute the art-historical re-
Let us now turn to Bronzino’s portraits. Praised from the time they were painted until
the present, for reasons which differed according to the taste of the age, Bronzino’s
portraits came to be stained indirectly with the notion of decline, and therefore in a
different way than his religious paintings: It was due to the sitters and their manners
that these portraits became associated with the notion of decline. In order to understand
fully the social implications of Bronzino's portraits, we need to emphasise that they
depicted members of the Italian, especially Florentine, aristocracy, haute bourgeoisie, and
intelligentsia (that is, the literati who were in the service of the aristocracy and who
within the social structure and ideology of nineteenth-century Europe – changes which,
in large part were a result of the French revolution, the industrial revolution, and the
society, according to the social, political, and cultural standards of bourgeois, post-
revolutionary Europe.
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Thus a distinction needs to be drawn here: Whilst Bronzino's religious paintings were seen
as representing a decline in his opus (and such a claim was then supported by extensive
formal and stylistic evaluative analysis), Bronzino's portraits were seen as representing the
decline of the society. Hence, the chronological and stylistic evaluative pattern (which was
of such importance for the criticism of the religious paintings) was abandoned by art
historians when they commented on Bronzino's portraits. Moreover, portraits were seen
as somehow spared from the decline of Bronzino’s later style, and often they were
described as possessing a constant stylistic (as well as artistic) value within Bronzino’s
opus. However, the construct of decline of Italian society in the Cinquecento was an
inevitable issue for the critics, and it seems that Bronzino's portraits always provoked art
historians to make judgements that would move from stylistic and formal issues into
issues revolving around politics, history and culture. Several examples of such criticism
will follow.
evaluation of Florentine social history in the second half of the Cinquecento. This
"It is an aristocracy alike of the intellect and of the senses that Bronzino has
immortalised for us. These men of the Florentine decadence are no representatives of a
thin refinement of culture. They have known everything and felt everything. They are
beyond good and evil."152
"Now, it is the aristocratic quality of the portrait which immediately strikes one. ... They
have about them, as time goes on, an increasingly Spanish gravity153, for the Renaissance
153By virtue of making accounts like this, McComb transferred to the realm of pictorial representation
conclusions he adduced from political history. We would suggest that McComb's accounts could be
interpreted in relation to the historical construct of Spain as Other to the United States, and this construct
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is ending; Spain and the Counter-Reformation will have conquered before Bronzino dies.
These people of his are withdrawing from their counting-houses, beginning to live on
their unearned income, copying the haughty manner of the hidalguia. Following Charles
V's appearance in black at Bologna, they will dress quietly in dark clothes, with a touch
of wine-red, perhaps, but no more in the gay colours of the quattrocento. For there is no
longer any gaiety, humour, intimacy, but only this all-pervading, incredibly sad elegance.”154
In Hauser’s view, social conditions influenced the Mannerist style and Bronzino’s
portraits. Under princely rule, Mannerism gained courtly refinement, which Hauser
associated with the tradition of the classical style. In Hauser’s view, in Florence this
classicism fused with the Spanish “ideal of cool and unapproachable grandezza,”155
which eventually resulted in what Hauser called alienation. The following paragraph
from Hauser echoes previously quoted lines from Kugler and Burckhardt, interpreted
“The painters of the Renaissance did not doubt their ability to portray men truly and
completely by their physical and in particular their physiognomical features, and their
models had not the slightest objection to being portrayed as they really were. Now the
possibility of such true portraiture was neither believed in nor aspired to, the less so as
both artist and model seem to have felt that the soul is just as alienated by its physical shell
as it is by any other material medium, and that consequently in the last resort the face is
just as alien to the soul, just as external and material as, say, a man’s clothes, jewellery,
or weapons.”156
was analysed in great detail by Richard Kagan. According to Kagan, "America's identity may still depend on
national histories that are both conceived and constructed as antithetical to its own." [Kagan, Richard L.,
“Prescott's Paradigm American Historical Scholarship and the Decline of Spain,” Imagined Histories:
American Historians Interpret the Past ed. Molho, Anthony and Wood, Gordon S. Wood (Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 1998.), 342.]
154 McComb, Op. Cit., 6-7, Emphasis Added... However, in his final evaluation of Bronzino’s portraits
McComb concluded: “We will not see the like of these portraits again till Dominique Ingres.” [Ibid., 37].
Eventually, it seems that issues of form were more important to McComb than those of ethics.
Hauser, Op. Cit., 199. Perhaps Hauser’s negative attitude reflects Burckhard’s views on the Spanish
155
Empire which, according to Burckhardt, acted as a negative agent in Italian Cinquecento history and art.
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Bronzino’s sensibility, according to Freedberg, did not involve passion. Thus, Bronzino
was different from Pontormo, “in whose paintings we are beset by the assimilation
made between the matter of the work of art and his [Pontormo’s] consuming self.”157 In
Bronzino’s portraits, his “contact with the sitter is a confrontation only; communication
is deliberately sealed off.”158 According to Freedberg, this maniera of the artist was
controlled, willed, personal maniera, of which the high artifice serves as a mask for
passion or as an armour against it.”159 For Freedberg, both of these manieras expressed
For Shearman, Bronzino's portraits reflect the specificity of the Florentine sixteenth-
century Zeitgeist:
“In Florence, especially, the new court led to a new and therefore artificial aristocracy,
and very artificial is the poise of the courtiers that Bronzino reveals to us.”161
We would suggest that before we take these accounts (as well as the evaluations they
imply) for granted, we need to take into consideration the presumptions upon which
they are based. To achieve this, we may begin by thinking about the complicated
relations of history162, politics, ethics, sociology, culture and visual representation that
Added..
It may seem that some of the issues we have listed here have little to do with the notion of decline and the
162
evaluation of Bronzino’s portraits. However, a careful reader of this thesis will not fail to remember that it
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were implicit in the aforementioned comments. Nineteenth-century as well as
accounts163, claiming that the age of Mannerism was a period of political decline in Italy.
This political decline, according to them, then inevitably led to a moral decline, and it seems
that only the members of the aristocracy became exposed to it164. This conclusion the
medium that had captured this moral decline, and then conveyed it to us today. Rarely,
however, did these art historians discuss or even consider whether it was indeed
Bronzino’s intention to portray the decline of Italian states in the Cinquecento through
Italy, it was often claimed that the Sack of Rome and the presence of Spanish and French
troops signalled the end of Italian independence. Also, the historians saw the
Cinquecento as the age in which autocratic regimes (such as the Medicean regime in
Florence) were founded in Italy. In his famous book Civilisation of the Renaissance Jakob
Burckhardt demonstrated that the glorious times of the Renaissance and High
was not just the rhetoric that was seen as in decline in classical antiquity; The decline of rhetoric was, in fact,
a consequence of the political and moral decline which followed the fragmentation of Alexander the Great’s
Empire.
163By virtue of making such a claim, these art historians assigned to the Hegelian notion of Zeitgeist the role
of the main agent in the process of artistic development, and thus preferred what Suzi Gablik called an
"external" to "internal" model of history of art. [Cf. Gablik, Suzi, Progress in Art (New York: Rizzoli, 1979),
146-152.]
164Interestingly, this socio-political relation is rarely questioned by (art) historians. Rather, it is taken as a
given (or, in other words, it was treated in the same a priori manner as the whole causative/correlative chain
of historical and sociological events we explained above).
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Renaissance were by no means peaceful. During the Quattrocento the Italian city-states
were also under foreign influences, and often were governed by autocratic tyrants or by
As for the images of the aristocracy as, namely, representations of the decline en général,
we would claim that these images were later interpreted manipulatively so as to serve
the specific purposes of the art historians. That is to say that the political agenda
ascribed to these images is of a later date and that this agenda is not an inherent quality
of the portraits themselves. This, we would claim, becomes clear if we realise that
Bronzino had no conscious intention to paint these portraits as a critique of a society as,
absolutism, as well as of depicting what were seen as notorious qualities of gravitas and
grandezza, vices which conquered Italy via Spanish political influence and military
stereotypical model of the decadent aristocrat (as seen, that is, through the social and
The morals of the Mannerist age are even more difficult to interpret, and we will withdraw from
165
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Thus, we would suggest that interpretations of Bronzino’s portraits of the Medici court
Other, at least in the eyes of nineteenth-century bourgeois writers and readers of history
(just as, later, the image of Marie Antoinette, for example, was used as a canvas upon
which the abject of French society was to be projected166). As a result of this post-
representations of the monarchs and aristocrats without importing into them pejorative
Another issue may be of interest here: The influence of a negative moral evaluation of
the sitters upon the formal and stylistic interpretation of the portraits. We have noticed a
dichotomy within the interpretation of these images: Whilst Bronzino’s portraits are
ascribed artistic and formal value, also they were seen as portraits of the decadence of
Florentine aristocratic society. This judgement may be viewed as having led the
bourgeois art historians to see these portraits in allegorical terms, that is, as allegorical
representations of decline. This, in turn, may have served to deprive the portraits of
individual (or individualising) traits, in the eyes of commentators, which may have
forced these commentators to fall back on a limited dictionary of adjectives (such as:
cold, aloof, mineral-solid, stylised etc.) when describing these paintings. Several
Cf. Thomas, Chantal, The Wicked Queen: The Origins of the Myth of Marie-Antoinette, transl. Rose, Julie,
166
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In her brief account of Bronzino, Linda Murray offered comments on portraits she
viewed through a critical prism of social, political, and psychological facets. She
and aloof nobility,”167 adding that they betray “the watchful repression of emotion and
the deadened sensibility resulting from life under a violent and capricious tyrant.”168
Also, John Pope-Hennessey in his book, The Portrait in the Renaissance, introduced an
“What commended Bronzino to Cosimo I was that he approached the human features as
still life. If the ducal physiognomy had to be reproduced in painting and not just in the
impassive art of sculpture, this style was the least undignified.”170
We will finish with Guiliano Briganti, who described Bronzino’s portraits in the
following terms:
“The gelid, precious stylism of his alabaster and mineral portraits; his patient solidification
of a lunar world, inhabited by an aristocratic and reserved humanity, untouched by
passing of time; his illusive, magical realism: all this may surely be seen as part of a
wider picture.”171
According to Briganti, Bronzino was different from Pontormo by virtue of “his search
for a more lucid objectivity, and for a mineral-hard solidity in the material which
167 Murray, Linda, The High Renaissance and Mannerism: Italy, the North, and Spain, 1500-1600 (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1977): 159.
168 Ibid., 159, Emphasis Added..
169 The Dictionary of Art Terms defines still life as a representation of inanimate objects
170 Pope-Hennessy, John Wyndham, Sir, The Portrait in the Renaissance, (Princeton: Princeton University
Added..
172 Ibid., 36.
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We saw in the art-historical discourse on Bronzino’s portraits the prevalence of words or
terms such as stylised, elegant, refined, artificial, stiff, icy, lunar, and inhuman. By virtue
of applying such a critical dictionary to these portraits, they are seen as unified in
emotions, fully give themselves to artificiality and, thus, may be equated with inanimate
objects.
However, not all of the adjectives used to describe Bronzino's portraits can be taken as
signifiers of decline. The emotional aloofness that is seen in the portraits is quite the
opposite notion to the emotional intensity which was seen as intrinsic in his religious
paintings. We would claim that the descriptions of these portraits address, negatively,
two qualities seen to inhere in them, those qualities being the (purported) artificiality and
maniera of the sitters. These comments also show a certain inability, or even a refusal, to
communicate with these portraits themselves (and such a communication would require
sprezattura). We would like to see this refusal as a continuing form of class struggle
against the aristocracy, and we would claim that this ideological issue has led
To return to the issues of form: Bronzino’s portraits are usually done in minute detail.
They depict the members of the Italian, especially Florentine, aristocracy, intelligentsia,
and haute bourgeoisie. In these portraits special attention is paid to the costumes of the
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sitters. Also, the poses they assume and the objects they are surrounded with (such as
books or statues) are chosen so as to signalise sitters’ intellectual abilities and their
position in the social hierarchy. However, this Bronzino achieved with a certain
if we were to seek in them not for the character of the sitter, but for his status, we should
perhaps take into account elements which are usually considered less important, for
his master Pontormo applied an elimination of the background which he turned into an
almost abstract space, Bronzino was less radical regarding this compositional issue. His
sitters are usually depicted against a remote landscape or imaginary architectural setting.
We will provide several examples here. In The Portrait of Eleonora of Toledo-Medici with
Giovanni de’Medici (1546, Uffizi, Florence) the landscape which forms the background is
so remote (and such a treatment calls into mind the portraits of Piero della Francesca,
that of Federigo da Montefeltro, for example) that the viewer often perceives it as a
173Such an approach to analysing Renaissance paintings was suggested by Rosalind Jones and Peter
Stallybrass in their book Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory. These authors claimed that it is the
contemporary audience who put a special value in the sitter’s face and the painter’s psychological insight.
The following conclusion made by Jones and Stallybrass regarding the layers of signification in a
Renaissance portrait can be useful when approaching Bronzino’s court portraits:
“A painting that would become for a later period a form of psychological revelation could oscillate in the
Renaissance between being a representation of a person, a genealogical record, a portrait of clothes, and a
valuable object (frame, curtain) in its own right.”
[Jones, Ann Rosalind, and Stallybrass, Peter, Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2000), 194]
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Florence), what looked to us as a faux architectural setting in the background and the
vista that appears in the far left appear as of secondary importance. Instead, the single
detail that actually attracts the viewer’s attention is a peculiar heraldic console (placed
underneath the vault to the right of the picture) which is said to represent the coat of
In most of the portraits of the Medici family the background is eliminated. Often
Stefano Colonna (1546, Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica, Rome), Portrait of a Lady (1555-7,
Galleria Sabauda, Turin), and Portrait of a Young Man (1550-52, National Gallery,
London). To conclude: Bronzino’s focus was on the sitters and their costumes rather
than on the details of the entire composition; by virtue of such a choice in representation,
the minute details of the sitters become juxtaposed to the somewhat abstracted
Bronzino’s mythological paintings (apart from his sketches for the tapestries hung in the
Medici court, which remain difficult to interpret) form a rather small group which
comprises Pygmalion and Galatea (Florence, Palazzo Vecchio, 1529-30) and The Story of
Apollo and Marsyas (Leningrad, Hermitage Museum, 1531-32). These paintings differ
only the proportions of Galatea’s body, especially the expression of her eyes, betray the
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influences of Parmigianino and Pontormo, whilst the latter painting is a narrative cycle,
because of the chances they offer for different interpretations. The powerlessness of a
contemporary art historian to define what one would call an 'exact meaning' of the
figures in such an intricate composition as in the famous Allegory of Venus and Cupid
(1540-45, National Gallery, London) is on the other hand a source of inspiration for the
iconography175. Such paintings also demonstrate the taste of the elite audience they were
painted for, as well as of their intellectual pretensions and abilities. It was probably due
to this unsolvable representational character that they rarely received a harsh critique in
174According to Edith Wyss, by virtue of merging two mythological scenes, depicting Apollo and Marsyas
and King Midas, Bronzino juxtaposed the realms of nature and art. In Wyss’ terms, Apollo and Minerva (the
latter was depicted in the scene of Midas) can be seen as “paradigmatic for ars, as the maniera understood it:
derived from revered models of classical or recent art and perfected in tireless practice of disegno;
responding less to observed nature [the nature was seen here as represented by Marsyas] than to an inner
image, a shared ideal.” Wyss concluded that Bronzino’s Apollo and Marsyas became a representation of the
“superiority of art over nature” which was “a constant topos in the art criticism of the cinquecento.” [All
quotations refer to Wyss, Edith, The Myth of Apollo and Marsyas in the Art of the Italian Renaissance: An Inquiry
into the Meaning of Images (Newark: University of Delaware Press; London; Cranbury, NJ: Associated
University Presses, 1996), 110]
175The most famous interpretation of this painting can be found in Erwin Panofsky’s Studies in Iconology.
Panofsky’s chapter, titled “Father Time,” was a study of an iconological type; thus, it dealt primarily with
the pictorial transfer of an allegorical representation, in this case that of Time. Panofsky traced its
transformations from the period of classical antiquity, via the Middle Ages, into the Renaissance and post-
Renaissance era. Though there was little formal analysis in Panofsky, we can still find certain signals of the
author’s attitudes regarding the style of the Allegory by Bronzino (the National Gallery, London). Panofsky
referred to its composition as to a “crowded arrangement” [Panofsky, Erwin, Studies in Iconology (New York:
Harper Torchbooks, The Academy Library, Harper and Row, 1962), 86] and to its iconography as “peculiar”
[Ibid., 86]. The allegorical representation in Bronzino’s Allegory which he identified as “Fraud” [Ibid., 94] was
for Panofsky “the most sophisticated symbol of perverted duplicity ever devised by an artist, yet curiously
enough it is a symbol not rapidly seized upon by the modern viewer” [Ibid., 90, Emphasis Added.. ] {All
quotations refer to Panofsky, Erwin, Studies in Iconology (New York: Harper Torchbooks, The Academy
Library, Harper and Row, 1962)}
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the past, since the art historians were preoccupied with solving the riddle of their
content.
Allegory of Venus and Cupid (1545, National Gallery, London) is by far the most complex
of all pictures representing allegories by Bronzino, and we will not make an attempt to
example of courtly Mannerism, that in which the initial tremor of early Mannerism was
calmed and classicised. The porcelain quality of the complexion of the figures, the
asymmetrical yet balanced composition, the elimination of the background, the light but
not vibrant colouration, and a certain compression of the figures, all indicate this stylistic
shift within Bronzino’s opus that is usually said to have occurred in 1540. Less
frequently analysed allegorical paintings by Bronzino are Venus, Cupid and Jealousy (1550,
Szépművészeti Múzeum, Budapest), Venus, Cupid and a Satyr (1555, Colonna Gallery,
Rome), and Allegory of Happiness (1567-70, Uffizi, Florence). The first two are stylistically
similar, and they appeared to critics as variations of the London Allegory. Allegory of
Happiness, which was done in Bronzino’s last years, we would like to see as stylistically
akin to the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence. In this particular painting, the composition is
almost symmetrical, the figures are less distorted and the colouration is light. Owing to
all these qualities, perhaps this painting would be another example of the shift in
Bronzino’s style we mentioned before in connexion with the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence,
the shift which would have led Bronzino (had he got the time to continue to work in this
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Chapter III.
Now we turn to the complicated relation between the terms maniera, Mannerism and
style and the historical variations in cultural value attributed to each of them that is
present even today, which need to be discussed in such a study that is focused on style
or styles of an artist, Bronzino, and also on style(s) of the period in which he worked.
The term maniera had a long history before Mannerism itself came into being defined
has been given already by Marco Treves, but what needs to be added here is what is
often (and perhaps, even deliberately) neglected: that maniera had and still has several
meanings, not all of which can be connected successfully with another ambiguous term
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To define and connect the terms maniera, style and Mannerism, and to offer an
interpretation of at least a few of their complex correlations, we can still turn to the text
by Treves entitled, we may note, quite modestly: “Maniera, the History of a Word”176,
published in 1941. There has been no recent study about Mannerism that goes into such
detail. He was extremely scrupulous in tracing the term maniera and its changes in
from the Renaissance to his own time in Italian as well as in French and in English. Also,
we find his model of interpretation, which assigned the central position to the term
maniera when discussing the Renaissance, mannerism177 and later artistic periods useful
for and similar to our methodology here. Unlike other authors who discussed the
relation of style and Mannerism, Treves presented a complex and layered model when
approaching the terms maniera178 and Mannerism, a model that can accommodate the
diversity of styles within the term style, today so often taken to mean just a period in art
history. Treves, more than many authors today, took seriously the different and often
inconstant connotations of the term maniera, which he analysed not only as matter of
language, but also as a fundamental element of the artistic and art historical discourse
176 Treves, Marco, “Maniera, the History of a Word,” Marsyas I (1941), 69-88
177 We need to explain here that Treves did not spell Mannerism as we do today with a capital M (but
preferred “mannerism”), because in 1941 when his article was published it was not a widely accepted style
and period in art history. Thus we will use Treves’ spelling when quoting here from his text or when
paraphrasing his arguments.
178 Of quite different an opinion about the meaning of the terms maniera and Mannerism was Hessel
Miedema, who dismissed all the accounts on the use of these terms in today’s art history. Cf. Miedema, Op.
Cit.
88
From the very beginning of his text Treves saw the term maniera and all of its meanings
as issuing from the gradual development of the arts and from the criticism that followed
it:
“The word maniera has in Italian many meanings, several of which are especially
connected with the Fine Arts. … These various meanings were not introduced through
arbitrary decisions and abrupt innovations of individual writers, but evolved naturally,
gradually, and logically from one another….”179
Such a view of the development of the term reminds us of the biological metaphors
common meanings of the word: “The most usual and ancient meaning of the word
maniera in Italian is the manner, way, or fashion, in which the work is done, a person
behaves, a problem is solved.”181 Then there was “[m]aniera as the painter’s term”182 and
here Treves relied upon Cennino Cennini.183 Yet Treves also noted that there seem to
have been two different meanings of the word maniera in the Renaissance: the individual
style of the artist and the common style of a nation or of an age. And after referring to
several quotations from Cennino Cennini (writing in 1390), Lorenzo Ghiberti (writing in
1450), and Antonio Filarete (writing between 1451 and 1464) in which the word maniera
appeared, he quoted a letter written by Raphael in 1519 to Pope Leo X, in which Raphael
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“mentions also the decline of sculpture from the perfetta maniera of the early Emperors to
After this general account of the use of the term in one of the lengthier sections in his
“In Vasari’s Lives, maniera has a special importance, because the evolution of styles of art
is one of the chief connecting threads that link together the vast number of factual data
contained therein. … He [Vasari] intended to explain the causes of the improvement and
decline of the arts, which he conceived as an alternation of good and bad styles.”185
It was style, or maniera, that Vasari used to evaluate each artist’s merit, and here we
could agree with Treves who in Vasari’s Lives assigned special organising and
evaluating role to the notion of style, which otherwise is seen just as one of the five
criteria that Vasari named in his Preface to the last book of Le Vite Lives (and those were :
In analysing Vasari, Treves identified three categories of maniera that Vasari employed:
as styles of periods or countries, as styles of individual artists, and as styles with various
flexible when applying the word maniera to different periods: Thus, for example, by
maniera moderna he once meant the style in the arts since Giotto, and at another point in
the most famous practitioners of those three arts, notwithstanding the fact that then the term “art” was not
an operative one.
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his text the style in the arts since Masaccio. Despite such chronological slippages, the
Vasari’s thinking and when he was to qualify and evaluate stylistically the practices of
painting, sculpture and architecture, he always chose the old manner of the Middle Ages
to represent a constant low point in his linear model of stylistic and artistic development.
Therefore in Vasari the maniera vecchia (whether he meant by that the maniera of Giotto,
The most complex of his uses of the term maniera is the third category when this word is
of these epithets are descriptive, and convey value judgements which often are
expressed by words borrowed from the literary critical discourse, or from history and
rhetoric. Other epithets derived from the language of the painters were operative only in
words are removed from such a private, professional and perhaps more hermetic
audience189 than the one of the bottega. The origin and the transfer of these epithets are
complex and are not the topic of our research here, but it is important to stress that the
new vocabulary of terms was made public and perhaps standardised then by Vasari and
other writers on art. And if Renaissance paintings were complex and composite, such a
188Ibid., 73
189Lisa Pon’s article on Michelangelo’s biographies touches upon this difficult subject, when she discusses
the number of volumes that The Lives had, the number of copies, and the audience Vasari had in mind whilst
writing his books. Cf. Pon, Lisa, “Michelangelo’s Lives: Sixteen-Century Books by Vasari, Condivi, and
Others” in Sixteenth Century Journal, Vol. 27, No. 4 (Winter, 1996), 1015-1037
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vocabulary to speak of them was used almost always for a few simple aims: to describe,
to praise (as well as to criticise) the works of art, the procedures of the artists, and their
styles.
Treves referred here also to another rare and important meaning of maniera, by which
the word simply denotes absolutely good in style. Again, this exception can be seen as a
confirmation of the importance of the term itself, which in this case took the meaning of
what in Latin literally stood for “appearance and shape”190 and actually meant “beauty
and beautiful.”191 Here we see that the most difficult term of the five that Vasari used
when he spoke of a perfect art at the beginning of the third section of Le Vite (rule, order,
proportion, design and style/maniera) assumed the central evaluative position in his
work. Thus, all authors who today condemn the term “Mannerism” to be pejorative
because of its relation to maniera which only later, and only in some instances, became a
negative word, consider neither the authentic documents from the period, such as
Vasari’s Lives, nor the complex and fair analysis offered by Treves. It needs to be stated
finally here that before the Baroque period maniera never was a pejorative term by itself,
but a flexible denominator of value, detached from the taints and shades of the quality
of art itself. In his article Treves also quite successfully demonstrated that if maniera
appeared by itself as a word, it was to signal excellent, and not bad works of art.
However, the future negative burden of the term maniera can be seen to have arisen from
within the lines of the treatises on art written in the Renaissance. Once the term maniera
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became seen as a personal expressional device implying stylisation that an artist can and
should attain (by imitating others and then even himself), the significance of art as truth
was called into question. In Vasari we still cannot detect the binary opposition between
the practices of imitating nature (that is, depicting the truth) and imitating art, since he
advised that both other artists and nature should be imitated by an apprentice artist in
order to obtain good maniera. He allowed both practices to coexist unless he needed to
make some evaluative judgement. However, Vasari suggested obtaining a good balance
between these two procedures of practice. Yet, as often, he is ambiguous: The artist who
only followed his master and did not look at nature end up badly, because he did not
follow the teleological path of art “’[f]or it can be clearly seen that that he seldom passes,
who always walks behind.’”192 In Vasari’s words, the opposite of such a procedure, that
of looking only at nature and imitating her is also wrong, because it is impossible by
such simple imitation alone to surpass nature herself193. It is implied by Vasari that both
the imitation of nature and of other artists are equally useful for becoming a good artist,
but what this development depended on was an exercise of judgement between these
extremes.
Here Treves suggests that the opposition between the idea of works of art based on
imitating nature and works of art based on imitating other artists (or the artist’s own
style) may have derived from the two different practices of tirar di practica and tirar di
maniera194. These two Italian phrases in Vasari Treves used to contrast what he called the
192 Here the question can be raised if this is Vasari’s anticipation of the pejorative term of After-comers or
Epigoni, Infra,
193 Treves, Op. Cit., 75
194 Ibid., 76.
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Mannerist method, by which artists worked “swiftly and boldly,”195 focusing on their
“practice and stylistic habits,”196 to the Renaissance method in which artists were praised
for their “diligence and scientific naturalism.”197 Pace Treves, the terms “Mannerism”
and “Mannerist” (but not maniera) were invented in much later times then 1520-1600
(hence there can be no historical difference between the practices of Renaissance and
Mannerist artists), and we by now have numerous proofs that the Renaissance artists
did not look at nature only but also strove to imitate the ancient artists because for them, to
imitate the Antique, was to imitate Nature herself198.The application of such a term as
“scientific naturalism” when referring to Renaissance art is avoided in the more recent
critical texts because it may mislead the reader, who by now may know that not all
Renaissance artists followed the preparatory and painterly practices of Leonardo, the
two practices leading to what may be seen as a dichotomy between his intention to
capture the natural world seen in his preparatory work (which then was not seen as
belonging to the then inexistent style of naturalism, but was known to be based on close
observation, even vivisection, of the bodies of nature) and his final pictorial renderings
That the opposition between natura and maniera was not as clear and crystallised then it
was to be for the writers on art of the late sixteenth century may be verified in the quotes
from Raphaelle Borghini’s Il Riposo (1584) and G. B. Armenini’s De veri precetti della
pittura (1587). This opposition became important only later when what Treves called
195 Ibid.
196 Ibid.
197 Ibid.
198 Cf. Bredekamp, Horst, The Lure of Antiquity and the Cult of the Machine: The Kunstkammer and the Evolution
of Nature, Art, and Technology, trans. Allison Brown (Princeton: M. Wiener Publishers, 1995)
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“[t]he antimanneristic reaction”199 had started. Treves linked this reaction against
mannerism to the work of Caravaggio, who became the major exponent of the manner
of painting that was considered to be based on looking at nature (what we may today
may call a realistic approach, although it did not result in paintings which today appear
as pictorial copies of nature to us) as well as to the approach of the school of Bologna,
which sought their maniera in an eclectic practice of looking at and imitating both nature
and the works of other artists, claiming these two sources to be of equal importance.
And here we can note that even within such a deliberately eclectic approach of the
Bolognese painters, which could have been evident to the painters themselves, a
discomfort was felt with the term imitation, which was then seen as very negative one,
whereas earlier in the Renaissance imitation was as positive a term as the term emulation.
It may also be argued that the painters as well as seventeenth-century writers on art
projected their own insecurities about the process of imitation onto the previous period,
that is, onto Mannerism. In such a way they rhetorically (if not actually) purified
themselves from the habit of pure artistic imitation, that is, they positioned their
opposition between art and nature, which they themselves have constructed. Although
the Mannerist practice of imitating other artists was later to be seen as a fault, the
Bolognese painters of the later sixteenth century did not fully abandon imitation, but
continued to use it and advised their followers to do so as well. Hence today we could
claim that by keeping operative and by imitating this allegedly ‘faulty’ practice of imitating
other artists, the seventeenth-century painters of Bologna committed yet a greater level of
imitation, and thus became the first true mannerists, in the negative sense of that word.
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And to return to the word itself: it was after this complex (and in many ways –
narrower term, used to define disparagingly all previous art that was seen to be based
on pure imitation of art itself. The art that was then criticised was not what now we call
Mannerist, but referred to a group of works that immediately preceded the rise of what
we call today Baroque art and Bolognese Classicism. Whereas the Mannerists thought
of themselves as belonging to the tradition of Renaissance art and its practices (since
there was no chronological boundary set between Mannerism and Renaissance), the
artists of the Seicento made a deliberate differentiation between the art of the immediate
past and their works, claiming that their art was better according to standards they
collected from the Renaissance treatises and then unified into a new system of
evaluation. In Treves’ terms, in this new system of evaluation of art, the seventeenth-
century writers of art claimed to have obtained a new balance, that between realism and
mannerism. The Seicento artists and writers on art then claimed that they acquired such
perfect balance in the process of choosing the sources for imitation: between what
ambiguously was believed to have been negative (mannerist art) and positive (nature) a
source. Such a complex procedure resulted in art that was to be designated (and perhaps
styled or stylised) by a new and mostly positive term from philosophy, namely
eclecticism. The artistic methods of emulation, which was so highly praised in the
Renaissance, became for the Seicento artists more ambiguous and dangerous a process,
contemporary and Antique). And yet, in a way, this method of choosing the best
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elements from the visual sources available for new art, the method that Vasari himself
It was this newly disparaging connotation of maniera then that gave birth and spread its
manierismo.”200 In such a way, the Seicento classicists constructed a new term, which will
continue to haunt their own work, as well as all previous and future art works based on
imitating previous style or styles. The consequences of this are obvious even today in the
critical discourse, since the term style is used by many contemporary scholars as a
pejorative term per se necessarily associated with artifice in art. Thus maniera, which in
the Renaissance was an inclusive and descriptive term not only limited to the field of
evaluating the arts, was forcefully, artificially, and strangely (even paradoxically)
transformed into a new yet hauntingly familiar evaluative critical term, which later was
used to attack its makers and its etymological parent or predecessor: the artists and the
word style.
And now we need to return to the history of Mannerism: As Treves and other writers
have recognised it was Gian Pietro Bellori who was the first writer to give the word
“And the artists, abandoning the study of nature, corrupted art with the maniera, or (if
you prefer) fantastic idea, based on practice and not on imitation [of nature].”201
200 Ibid., 77
201
Treves here referred to Bellori, Gian Pietro, Le vite de pittori, scultori e architetti moderni (Roma, 1672), 20
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With such a statement Bellori transformed a general term, that applicable to all artists as
a measurew of quality, and turned it into a source of inspiration for a group of bad
Filippo Baldinucci202 in 1674 called the Mannerist painters di maniera or ammanierati and
blamed them for painting “’faces according to their whims,’”203 which he saw as
Baldinucci projected his notion of Mannerism back to the history of the Renaissance
though excluding Raphael, Michelangelo and del Sartro from all the others who
evidently had fallen into Mannerism, those in who “’we may notice now and then some
of that fault which is called maniera or ammanierato , that is to say, weakness of the
admits that for painters, sculptors and the architects to acquire a certain manner is a
necessary step in their artistic development. However, if they follow only their own
maniera, which even the most eminent painters do, they fall into “’a certain departure
from the strict imitation of reality and nature,’”206 which is a great fault. To position the
following of one’s own style as superior to the idea of the imitation of nature condemns
202 Treves referred to Baldnnucci, Filippo, Notize de’ professori del disegno da Cimabue in qua, IX (Firenze, 1667-
74), 164
203 Treves, Op. Cit., 78
204 Ibid., 78, Emphasis Added.
205 Ibid., 78.
206 Ibid.
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such a painter “’never [to] be a good painter,’”207 although it allows developing different
styles which are recognisable, and which are not based on the mere repetition of another
artist’s style. Thus, even if all of the Mannerists produced particular works of art, all
different in style and models of imitation, all of them would be at fault because their
pictures were not conceived by looking at nature, which is the best and the single source
of the real material for the good artist to imitate. Baldinucci surmises quite gloomily that
not too many artists escape the vicious lure of Mannerism and almost all of the artists
Like Baldinucci, F. Milizia209 saw in maniera a style that derives from an artist’s
individuality, but he then claimed that it is common for young artists to believe that
their master’s style is glorious, and that by the imitation of the master’s style their work
would become glorious as well. Here we see a shift in the idea of imitation – whereas in
the Renaissance the imitation of other artists was a practice which could enrich the style
of the young artists, for Milizia imitating previous artists’ styles was repeating a
procedure which was already then faulty. In Milizia’s words: “’The aim of art is
beautiful nature, and beautiful nature is to be sought in the productions of the arts
[generally] and not in the particular practice of the artist.’”210 This is a complex
claimed that art can produce nature, and then that the result of any art is faulty, because it is
always depends on the manner of the painter. The manner of the painter derives from
individuality, and thus it never allows any art production (even that which has a great
207 Ibid.
208 Ibid., 79.
209 Here Treves quoted Milizia, F., Dizionario delle belle arti del disegno (Bologna, 1797)
210 Here Treves quoted Milizia, F., Dizionario delle belle arti del disegno (Bologna, 1797), 209
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or grand manner, beautiful by itself) to be “’exactly beautiful nature.’”211 Finally, if a
young painter imitates the great manner of his predecessor, he imitates something
which already was faulty in its necessary distinction from truth, and creates even greater
a fault. Milizia resolved this contradiction by peculiar advice: new artists should imitate
neither one master nor one manner, but look for beauties in many works of different
artists. In Milizia, the belief that art can imitate212 and even surpass nature is gone,
whereas the representation of beauty in art excludes application of any manner, and it
seems difficult to understand where then beauty can be found except in nature, of
Neither Roger de Piles215 nor Diderot216 saw anything positive in the term maniera, which
they translated in French as manière, and which they considered to be “’vice.’”217 From
these derogatory meanings, the adjectives manieroso, ammanierato, and maniéré appeared
Denise Diderot (1767), all of which were to mean mannered in the negative sense of the
word.
and to Diderot, D., ‘Salon de 1767,, no. 235, Oeuvres, (Paris, 1821), X, 102-110
217 Treves, Op. Cit., 79.
218 Furetière, A., Dictionnaire universel, (La Haye et Rotterdam, 1694), II, 69.
100
According to Treves, the substantive maniériste firstly can be found in works of Fréart de
Chambray219 (1662) and later in Roger de Piles. This word then appeared in English from
John Dryden’s translation of de Piles published in 1695220 and in Italian interestingly via
maniera appeared in Luigi Lanzi’s 1809 book on Italian art222: he used manierista and
and manierismo, respectively, were used to describe Baroque style. Needless to say,
Baroque in the eighteenth century was also a pejorative term, and here again we can
note a strange operation of exchanging negative terms between critical discourses about
different arts.
extremely valuable expression of the position of Mannerist art and also of the term
Mannerism in the 1940s. Treves named first the styles in European art which occurred
after the Baroque: neoclassic, romantic, and finally realist, and under which Mannerism
Treves, deeply influenced all of the European Academies, and those institutions formed
standards based on comparing art with nature. But what Treves did not analyse were
the positions vis-à-vis maniera and Mannerism that appeared in art and art criticism
opposing the Academies and Academism of the later nineteenth century. Since here we
219 Fréart de Chambray, R., Idèe de la perfection de la peinture, (Le Mans, 1662), 120.
220 De Arte Graphica, The art of painting by C. A. Du Fresnoy with remarks, translated into English… by Mr. Dryden,
(London, 1695), pages 151 and 310.
221 Idea della perfezione della pittura di Mr. R. Freart, tradotta dal francese da A. M. Salvini, (Firenze, 1809), 86
222 Lanzi, Luigi, Storia della pittorica dell’ Italia, (Bassano, 1809).
223 According to Treves, despite some complaints of the linguists, the word mannierismo was better suited as
101
will turn to such discourse, or the lack of it, it is not necessary here to say more about
this. Yet what is very important is Treves’ statement about the contemporary position of
Mannerism :
“Recently, in connection with a fairer appreciation of the art of the sixteenth century,
mannerism and mannerists have become the historical denominations for a certain school
of artists, without any implication of demerit.”224
It is important to note here that Treves does not delineate mannerist art chronologically,
but fixes it in a very general period in the sixteenth century. Although it may seem as a
minor issue, throughout the text Treves never capitalised “M” in “mannerism,” which
may signal that he did not found it to be as established a term as the “Renaissance” and
the “Baroque,” which he used with capital first letter. However, it was a brave statement
on Treves’ behalf to place M/mannerism then within art history, thus helping it regain
of the term maniera: “(a) way or mode, (b) style, (c) mannerism.”225 He added that the
fourth meaning of maniera that denotes “good manner”226 was not included here
because of its rarity in historical discourse, where such a meaning was “merely an
occasional trope.”227 These three meanings of maniera that Treves lists are to be found
often in later discourses on style, although many of the authors who followed Treves
failed to refer to him and presented it often as their own classifications. It is not just
102
because of such neglect that we decided to present Treves’ arguments in length, but
because he also introduced a historical development of the sense that maniera had within
history. The use of the term maniera to describe a way or a mode dates back to the
beginning of the Italian literary discourse. Maniera as style appeared in Cennini and
according to Trevis it was then also a word common in the contemporary language of
the painters. The development of maniera into a pejorative term, due to changes in art
practice and theory, occurred in the sixteenth and the seventeenth century, culminating
in Bellori.
Treves also concluded that even though many words similar to maniera were introduced
afterwards, perhaps even in order to avoid the negative connotation of maniera that he
saw mostly issuing from French literature, maniera is still preserved and often used in
the Italian language. He has a reason for this: “Italian is a conservative language, based
on literature and not on fashion, and a good word used by good writers is not likely to
become obsolete.”228
There is another important yet unexplored notion here in what Treves wrote: the fact
that his ideas were based on philosophy as well as on linguistics allowed us to follow his
remarks and understand them better as well as other writers who employed such a
language.
To be more specific: one particular phrase in Treves is of great importance for our
further speculation and we believe – our general conclusion about style. When
228 Ibid., 81
103
discussing the development of the term maniera, Treves claimed that the new, narrower,
and mostly negative connotation assigned to it, became later its exclusive meaning, for
the writers in the late seventeenth century. And it was from this position vis-à-vis
maniera, according to Treves, that Bellori, Malvasia, Baldinucci, and Félibien applied a
“dialectic explanation of the history of painting.”229 The choice for these writers, Treves
wrote, was between methods based on what may be called unresolved and resolved
dialectics, i.e. between methods that recognise binary oppositions and that which strive
to bring the binaries into a new and qualitatively higher resolution of Hegelian
synthesis.230 And for many Seicento writers, according to Treves, it was the Carraci who
achieved a good style by avoiding the faults that constitute the dialectics: mere
229 Ibid., 77. We need to add here that these writers used dialectics without striving for synthetic resolution.
This particular and complex parallel between the method of Seicento artists and writers on art and
philosophical method defined by Hegel was introduced earlier in Treves’ text, and although at first it
seemed it could create a new ambiguity if developed further, we decided to follow it as well.
230 Since we will further develop the interpretation of style or styles and their development according to
Georg Friedrich Hegel’s model of dialectics, it may be useful to include some basic explanations of it here.
Hegel’s model is firmly set in the teleological belief of the development of the idea, which is primarily set in
binary oppositions: as thesis and antithesis. These two antipodes are resolved and overcome in a synthesis,
which is to constitute a new thesis on the next level of dialectical development. The thesis and antithesis
exist until the synthesis that resolved them is not abolished.
There were three stages in the dialectical development according to Hegel, which can be termed by three
words from Latin: negare (at which the limitations of the existent dialectical level are abolished), conservare
(at which the seed of the forthcoming dialectical development is kept) and elevare (at which that seed is
elevated to a higher and more perfect quality).
Hegel himself did discuss the sequence of styles in art by relating it to the development of the world spirit.
According to Carl J. Friedrich, for Hegel art was, “along with religion and philosophy, the embodiment of
the absolute spirit; he refers all art to the spirit it ‘expresses.’” [Friedrich, Carl J., “Style as the Principle of
Historical Interpretation,” Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism XIV (December 1955), 146]. Hegel divided
the epoch of stylistic development into: “the symbolic, the classic and the romantic” [Ibid., 146] and these
roughly “correspond to the oriental, the Greco-Roman and the Christian-Germanic.” [Ibid., 146]
104
Although it might have been more reasonable to use the common term eclecticism and
not involve yet another term from a later philosophical discourse, in his text Treves
preferred to create a new and more specific comparison. Thus, if not consciously, he
followed what seems to be a basic procedure by which art historians acquire new terms
from other sciences or disciplines – here he used philosophy – in order to define their
in the usual art-historical vocabulary. An early writer on art, like Cennino Cennini, had
considerable difficulties when writing about art, and he relied often on sources from
literature and rhetoric that were available from antiquity. Yet, as Martin Kemp has
observed, the main shortcoming of Cennini and other early writers was their inability to
be able to distinguish between individual styles, and also the fact that, in fourteenth-
century Italy, writers writing about different arts often used the same words but with
different meaning. For example, Cennini used aria and maniera for style, whereas aria for
Petrarch “in this sense is somewhat different from Cennino’s individual style, which
was particular for one artist … [since] it refers to a shared quality between a master and
Although we attempt to avoid terms that may be even more complicated, we still need
“This sense of ‘air’ as peculiarly visual property, allusive of definition, may also suggest
a further reason why the early Renaissance experienced difficulty in articulating the
Kemp, Martin, “‘Equal Excellences’: Lomazzo and the Explanation of Individual Style in the Visual Arts,”
Renaissance Studies, Vol. I, (1987), 5.
105
features of individual style. Petrarch implicitly acknowledges that it is a matter for
‘sensing’ rather than verbal formulation. We may go further and say that when the early
Renaissance writers on the visual arts looked to their favourite literary models for
adaptable criteria, they would find only the most limited guidance in pinning down the
elusiveness of individual style.”232
We see in this example how two writers – Cennini and Petrarch – writing on different
arts seemingly resolved the problem of describing the same topic. And it seems that for
the lack of better terms, they used the same ones which bore different meaning for them.
Hence, it may be concluded that in the beginning of the discourse on art there was a lack
of more specific terms to speak of art, and this was resolved by borrowing external
terms which seem to articulate better the initial thought, and enrich the general
dictionary of terms. As one may imagine, these observations, that which Kemp
described as allusive of definition and which Petrarch called ‘sensual,’ signalling thus
that they cannot be easily verbalised, came from looking and belong to the perceptual,
and thus not fully rationalised realm. As such they often seem as if they are a priori
rhetorical tropes such as comparison and metaphor). It can be said here that such art-
historical art of endless expansion of critical vocabulary defers more definite resolutions
within the present art-historical discourse, whilst simultaneously creating new ways of
232Ibid.
233Kemp thinks, and we can follow his argument to a degree, that style in writing is less recognisable than
the style in painting:
“I think that it is eternally unlikely – computers or no computers – that discrimination of literary style will
ever be able to achieve the level of nuanced refinement that can define the graphic styles if, say, Raphael,
Guilio Romano and Francesco Penni around 1520s….” [Ibid., 5]
Kemp also realised and explained convincingly the struggle of the early Renaissance artists to create a new
language and a new framework for the next century:
106
If we were to follow a Hegelian dialectical model (which Treves used when explaining
Seicento speculation on art), we could conclude that such an art of endless deferral of
irresolvable obstacle in art history. We could separate two simultaneous and contrary
actions that constitute this obstacle: the action of attaining definitions by virtue of
articulating statements composed of terms chosen from the limited existent vocabulary,
and the additional actions of acquiring new words which in turn expand the critical
vocabulary and offer more words, which can enrich the articulation and result in a fuller
definition. Yet in the end, what appeared at first to be an irresolvable antithetical status
quo is resolved.
This view may require further explanation. We may recognise firstly as operating within
every discourse on art one simple, unattainable, yet necessary intention: to choose
specific words to form a language of the discourse. The words used in a specialised
discourse on art (ever since it emerged) can then be said to constitute a minimal
speculations about art, these terms being inter-subjective and more refined. These
discrete and specific terms enable the discourse and allow it to operate fully, which may
lead to obtaining fixed and consensual meanings, and also to differentiating qualities
“To a larger degree than usual, Renaissance writers on the visual arts had to invent their own new
framework for the analysis of the individual styles. When we turn more systematically to our three themes –
recognition, description and explanation – we find that the classical authors and the humanists who looked
towards them in the fifteenth century provided limited guidance.” [Ibid., 5, Emphasis Added.]
107
and values in the arts. However, this basic intention, which is necessary for any
terms which would serve to enable even better and more exact discourse on art. These
different intentions we may also interpret as inseparable: the former intent as motivated
by the quest to assign fixed meanings to the works of art, the latter as motivated by the
urge to broaden the seemingly imprecise vocabulary of terms and optimise the discourse
of art history, both such intents issuing from normative and rational speculation.
The interaction of these two antithetical processes (or intentions) defers their aims: fixed
meanings cannot be reached because of the constant inclusion of new terms, and thus
the discourse lacks a discrete and definite vocabulary necessary to reach its optimal
function. However imperfect the result of this interaction may seem, it also facilitates the
renewal of the language used for describing and speculating on art by constant
additions and changes. And then the new terms, imported, as they are, from different
speculative areas, through application and repetition, become legitimate (if still not
fixed, commonly accepted and easily defined) terms of the discourse, indirectly then
influencing (or even redefining) our perception of art in ways that lead to changes in our
mode of vision, that then influences the arts themselves. Such a dynamic in creation,
description and perception of the arts, based on rational speculation, which is constantly
balanced, thus paralysing the final rationalisation of art through a stabilised and
optimised discourse, may be seen as related to changes in specific preferences for art,
which are based on style, manner and taste. In turn, these changes in taste for art foster
shifts in artistic creation , its visualisation and its style, as well as changes in articulation
of the thoughts they induce, reflecting the shifts from obsolete to contemporary
108
definitions used in art historical discourse for evaluating the works of art. Eventually
this fosters the flux of the terms that are at that moment selected to describe art. Such a
negation of the negation, to use Hegelian language, leads to the creation of the new
modes of representation, that is, of new style or styles. We believe that art exists through
the process of perpetual change of its styles as well as of the styles in writing about art.
Consequently, in a synthetic way, such a dialectical process enables art and style, as well as
After introducing the concept of maniera and its historiography, and speculating on the
development of art and its discourse, we can turn to the concept of style, which, as we
have already discussed in the Introduction, we need to address here, yet not in ways to
distract our attention from Mannerism and Bronzino. It seems that today style is less
important a subject for art historians than in years past. This refusal to discuss the
concept of style has developed because scholars see style as an organising element in
Modernist art history, which they rejected as structured around the range of repressions
that occurred during the reign of rigid patterns of critical thought in art history,
teleological views of development in the fine arts, discrete periods that can be seen in
stylistic progression of high (or fine) arts, iconological analysis, and so forth. For
scholars now, style has often became an instrument of repressive and eventually
in art history, and the repression of alternative narratives of race, gender, and feminism.
The lack of clear definition of the notion of style led some authors to dismiss it
completely, and to call the art historians who still preserve stylistic analysis the
alchemists of art history. Such a negative view of style, still operative in we might call
109
Post-post-modern scholarship, has influenced recent studies of Mannerism which avoid
race, body and gender in these paintings, in order to avoid disussing a more complete
account of this art, which would connect their specialised interpretations with the
period or style as a whole. We will not attempt here to resolve the complex position of
style in contemporary art-historical discourse; for those who now think that art history
can operate without style, suffice it to say that the very term Post-modernism might be
seen itself as a style or period in art, containing, of course, in its very name, the previous
For our purpose here we will continue to use the term style which, we believe, still can
looking at materials available to us today. There are numerous works in art history as
well as in other disciplines that have attempted to define style and delineate its
development. To present a brief history of the notion of style here we first will approach
Meyer Schapiro’s influential text, which summarises different views of the notion of
style within art history. Schapiro began by introducing the distinction between style
which can vary within the opus of an artist and style as a period denominator. From
“By style is usually meant the constant form – and sometimes the constant elements,
qualities, and expression – in the art of an individual or a group.”234
Schapiro, Meyer, “Style,” Theory and Philosophy of Art: Style, Artist, and Society (New York, N.Y.: George
234
110
Later he increases the number of criteria when analysing a singe style, in order to refine
the stylistic analysis. According to Schapiro, one should consider within one style
“the growth of individual artists” and “the discrimination of the works of master and
Schapiro saw stylistic analysis as a positive framework for approaching the work of art,
as in his view it leads to organising both the parts and the whole of the work of art. Yet
in such a view, the application of the idea of style is not meant to form normative
judgement:
Schapiro distinguished two different views within the first model of stylistic
development which he called the organic conception of style: the cyclical (that which views
the succession of styles as a repetitive pattern of rise, maturity and decline) and the
evolutionary (that which sees the stylistic development as a constant process leading
from primitive to advanced). In Schapiro’s view the most refined cyclical model is
presented by Heinrich Wölfflin, its advantage being the exclusion of all value
235 Ibid., 56
236 Ibid.
237 Ibid.
238 Ibid., 57-58.
111
judgements.239 The example of the evolutionary model of stylistic development Schapiro
saw in Alois Riegl’s model of constant movement between haptic and optic viewing of
the object which in turn, and equally without any terms of value, results in constant
When discussing views of style vis-à-vis content of the work, Schapiro noted that
sometimes style is associated with a distinct body of subject matter. Certain writers240
viewed style as “the objective vehicle of the subject matter or of its governing idea,”241
which then means that style pre-existed as an adequate formula for a certain genre
which then in time was selected and developed into a form most suitable for the subject
matter.
The second group of ideas about style that Schapiro distinguished included the theory
based on what he called the world view (or Denkweise)242 of a period or culture. In his view
such interpretations of the connection of style, art and time were valuable, because they
introduced a practice of interpreting the style itself as an inner content of art. Here again
we see the conflict between two views that Schapiro presented: that of style as a pre-
existent and governing factor of art and of style as a factor which develops as an inner requisite
of art itself.243
development can be found. Naturally, not all authors who wrote about style agreed with Schapiro. We will
quote here a compelling view of Willibald Sauerlaender, who defined style in different terms, as one
example of numerous speculations which cannot be classified within Schapiro’s model:
112
Finally, Schapiro addressed the problem of duality within the same style244, a
phenomenon that is usually simplified by dividing the same stylistic period into two
stylistically different groups, which, he believed, might have existed within the same
Schapiro’s thoughts on style and art are very useful for us here for his classification of
development of the arts and styles. The first group he distinguished as sharing the
metaphor of organic development, seen as analogous to changes in art and style. This
Heinrich Wölfflin (1864-1945), and Paul Frankl (1878-1962). Some of these do include
evaluative judgement, signalled even from the words used to describe stages of style.
For Winckelmann there was the older, the grand, the beautiful and the style of the
imitators. For Frankl there were the style of Being and the style of Becoming, both of which
included three phases he called preclassic, classic, and postclassic. For Riegl and other
writers influenced by his work, evaluative judgements can and should be abolished, as
the changes of styles are seen as a teleological process of evolution. We can see that
“Style ceases to be Gadamer’s ‘undiscussed self-evident concept’ and presents itself as a highly conditioned
and ambivalent hermeneutical ‘construct,’ worked out at a distinct moment in social and intellectual history
and corresponding to a very peculiar and alienated attitude towards the arts of the past as the aesthetic
mirror of bygone civilization. Style is the mirror which makes all the buildings, the statues, the images of the
past accessible to aesthetic historicism, for its dreams and for its files. It detatches from these buildings,
statues and images what may have been their original message and function and above all their inherent
conflicts, the stamp of superstition and cruelty, the token of suffering or the signs of revolt, reducing them to
patterns, samples, to the aesthetic irreality of the labelled mirror image.” [Sauerlaender, Willibald, “From
Stilus to Style: Reflections on the fate of a Notion,” Art History, Vol. 6 No. 3, September 1983, 245]
113
Schapiro favoured such an approach, and yet he also notes that such models could not
explain certain shifts in style. Yet our position regarding value-judgement is quite
different, for we agree with Ernst Gombrich who claimed that writing about art
necessarily includes value-judgements,245 that inherent in the preference for one topic
The second group of models Schapiro presented were based on the connexion between
the worldview and development of the arts. It is clear that such models of stylistic
cannot escape value judgement as well. Yet we would like to present a conclusion that
leads us to a new argument that is important for understanding both the development of
styles and the position of Mannerism within any such developments. Although very
escaped the consequence of the classification they introduced. The terms used to
biological stages of youth and death, the teleological views by which the movement is
organisation within the models themselves, thus assigning different artistic value to
different styles they included, and opening the possibility of value judgements246. This
245“Every preference, one might argue, implies an aversion” Gombrich, Ernst H., The Preference for the
Primitive: Episodes in the History of Western Taste and Art, (London; New York: Phaidon, 2002), 7.
246 Again we will return to Sauerlaender who reminds us of the origin of the word style, the Roman word
stilus, which is usually translated as the pen or tool for writing. In Ancient Roman rhetoric, “’[s]tyle’ in this
sense cannot be forged without respecting and obeying rules and norms. Style asks for discipline, control
and polish. And stilus is not only a normative, it is also a value-charged and even an elitist concept.”
[Sauerlaender, Willibald, Op. Cit., 254, Emphasis Added..]
114
hierarchy is a result of the governing model of viewing the development in arts and
To explain this model further and understand its importance for interpreting Mannerism,
we can now turn to the more specific speculations and opinions that have grown around
the notions of Mannerism and style. The scholars who have addressed Mannerism often
openly favour certain groups of works of art, or period, or works by a particular artist,
and dismiss the ones they see as inferior. Such a transparent preference may appear as
strange to the contemporary reader, cultivated in the pluralism of the late twentieth
century. And it seems now that even those periods which previously were considered
inferior in artistic value247 gain new attention. This, in turn, precipitates the re-
evaluations of such periods, resulting then in re-establishing their legitimacy. Some art
historians say that this leads to a relativism in all art-historical judgement, as expressed
by Steven Best:
“Artistic forms have proliferated to such an extent that they permeate all commodities
and objects so that by now everything is an aesthetic sign. All aesthetic signs coexist in a
situation of indifference and aesthetic judgement is impossible: 'We are all agnostics when it
comes to art: we no longer have any aesthetic convictions, we do not profess any
aesthetic doctrine or we profess them all. '"248
As Schapiro already suggested, such relativism was not easily attained in the discussion
and classification of styles and their development, as we can see in arguments that
Wölfflin, the author who attempted to abolish value-judgement in writing about art and
247 A good example for such a negative evaluation is fin-de-siècle Academic style, which was denigrated by
some Modernists.
248Best, Steven, Kellner, D., Postmodern Theory, Critical Interrogations, (New York: The Guildford Press, 1991),
136. Best quoted Jean Baudrillard here.
115
style, presented in the “Preface” to his influential book Principles of Art History: The
”The ‘Principles’ arose from the need of establishing on a firmer basis the classification
of art history: not the judgement of value – there is no question of that here – but the
classifications of style.”249
Wölfflin, in other words, felt compelled to argue against the role of mere taste in the
discrimination of style250. Yet he did not entirely escape the model of evaluation that
establishes a hierarchy while discussing styles in art history and in the end leads to a
development in art based on the notion of rise and decline. This is evident from his
“We know primitively immature modes of vision, just as we speak of ‘high’ and ‘late’
periods of art.” 251
When discussing the periodisation of the stylistic sequence that is seen to start with the
Renaissance and end with the Baroque, Wölfflin’s lines echo again his indecisiveness
regarding what one may call the objective and subjective accounts of art history:
”We denote the series of periods with the names of Early Renaissance, High Renaissance,
and Baroque, names which mean little and must lead to misunderstanding in their
application to south and north, but are hardly to be ousted now. Unfortunately, the
symbolic analogy bud, bloom, decay, plays a secondary and misleading part. If there is in
fact a qualitative difference between the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, in the sense
that the fifteenth had gradually to acquire by labour the insight into effects which was at
249 Wölfflin, Heinrich, Principles of Art History: The Problem of the Development of Style in Later Art, transl.
Hottinger, M.D., (New York: Dover, 1950): vii, Emphasis Added. [Wölfflin's Principles were published first
in 1915.]
250Additionally, Wölfflin seems to argue here against the model of decline that his mentor Jakob Burckhardt
used when referring to the Italian art after Raphael, we shall see when commenting on Burckhardt's model
of stylistic development later in this dissertation.
116
the free disposal of the sixteenth, the (classic) art of the Cinquecento and the (baroque)
art of the Seicento are equal in point of value. The word classic here denotes no judgement
of value, for baroque has its classicism too. Baroque (or, let us say, modern art) is neither
a rise nor a decline from classic, but a totally different art. The occidental development
of modern times cannot simply be reduced to a curve with rise, height, and decline: it has
two culminating points. We can turn our sympathy to one or the other, but we must
realise that that is an arbitrary judgement….“252
Reading this paragraph, we might conclude that Wölfflin does not acknowledge the
existence of Mannerism. However, if we investigate his model of rise and decline, which
in this paragraph he simultaneously seems to reject and to accept, we will see the
following: Mannerism is both present and concealed as a point of decline253 between what
Wölfflin calls “two culminating points,”254 that is, between the points at which, in his
It was not until Walter Friedlaender’s work between 1914 and 1924255 that Mannerism
was accorded a recognition by its being included in the pantheon of styles of art history.
One would expect that Friedlaender who re-established the period which had been
condemned for so many years as decadent would resist the notion of decline that had
Interestingly, Wölfflin was harsher in his critique of the Mannerist period in art in his previously published
book The Art of the Italian Renaissance; A Handbook for Students and Travellers (London: W. Heinemann, New
York: G. P. Putnam's sons, 1903). Though he did not acknowledge Mannerism as a stylistic entity, Wölfflin
described it in a short chapter called “Decline” and used a standard repertoire of accusations against
Mannerism, which included imitation and exaggeration.
253In his essay “What is Baroque?” Erwin Panofsky expressed a similar opinion apropos Wölfflin's
interpretation of Mannerism. [Cf. Panofsky, Erwin, Three Essays on Style, ed. Lavin, Irving, (Cambridge,
Mass.: MIT Press, 1995): 23]. Meyer Schapiro also noted that Wölfflin in his interpretation failed to explain
Mannerism as a style. [Schapiro, Op. Cit., 72.]
Wölfflin, Heinrich, Principles of Art History: The Problem of the Development of Style in Later Art, transl.
254
Hottinger, M.D., (New York: Dover, 1950), 14. Obviously, this is an evaluative phrase.
Friedländer, Walter, “Die Enshtehung des antiklassischen Stiles in der intalienischen Malerei um 1520,”
255
117
made Mannerism so invisible to previous critics. But in his second essay on Mannerism,
called “The Anticlassical Style,” Friedlaender suggests there was a decline within
“[T]he noble, pure, idealistic, and abstract style, lasting approximately from 1520 to 1550,
was transformed in the succeeding phase (about 1550 to 1580) into a manner; it became
‘di maniera’ by repetition, cleverness, and playful exaggeration on the one hand, by
weak concessions on the other.”256
Thus, on in his account, the subjectivism, lyricism, spiritualism and abstraction of early
Mannerism gave way to an “artistic concept which, through exaggerations of its original
nature, and even more through endless repetitions, betrayed unmistakable signs of
Classicism, 1580/90-1600). Thus, not only does Friedlaender construct a decline within
Mannerism, but also he cannot resist re-establishing a classical order based on the model of
the Renaissance within the period of Mannerism. This is an important point for our
investigation, since we intend to show this aspect of Friedlaender’s model is present still
256Friedlaender, Walter F., “The Anticlassical Style” in Mannerism and Anti-Mannerism in Italian Painting,
(New York: Columbia University Press, 1990), 48. Though this particular paragraph does not constitute a
negative account, later in Friedlaender's essay it became evident that he did not have a high opinion on the
later Mannerist art, as we will see in the quote that will follow.
118
We have used these two examples from the writings of twentieth-century historians to
illustrate how deeply the concept of decline from a classical norm or ideal is rooted in
European thought. Yet this concept of decline is embedded in a far older tradition,
traceable back to classical antiquity258. Thus, before examining further how the model of
decline entered Renaissance and post-Renaissance art criticism, we will have to turn
Numerous scholars259 have discussed the ancient models of cultural decline. For our
investigation, it will be important to emphasise that the ancient models of decline were
not originally devised to describe the fine arts, but that by virtue of using examples from
art to illustrate the notion of decline in other fields260 they became associated with the
arts.
258 We need to emphasise again here that in antiquity the art criticism did not exist in the sense we know it
today. According to Pollitt, the ancient authors who wrote about art and artists may be broadly classified
into four groups: the compilers of tradition (such as Pliny, the earliest author in this group is Duris of Samos
(340-260 BC)), the literary analogists – “rhetoricians and poets who used the visual arts as a source for stylistic
analogy with literature and who sometimes used works of art as subjects for literary exercises” (Cicero,
Quintilian), the moral aestheticians (Plato, Socrates) and the professional critics (who were often artists). The
second tradition was essentially an offshoot of literary criticism and was concerned mostly with the question
of style, and thus it is to these works that we will refer most often here. [Pollitt, J. J., The Ancient View of Greek
Art: Criticism, History, and Terminology (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1974), 9-10]
259 Weisinger, Herbert, “Renaissance Theories of the Revival of the Fine Arts” in Italica XX, vol. 3,
(September 1943), 163-170, Gombrich, Ernst H., “The Debate on Primitivism in Ancient Rhetoric” in Journal
of the Warburg and Courtlaud Institutes (London: Warburg Institute, University of London, 1966), 24-39,
Williams, Gordon Willis, Change and Decline: Roman Literature in the Early Empire (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1978), and Donohue, Alice A., “Winckelmann's History of Art and Polyclitus” in Polykleitos,
the Doryphoros, and Tradition, ed. Moon, Warren G., (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1995), 327-357.
260Here we refer to Gombrich’s interpretation of Cicero’s arguments against Asiatic style in rhetoric, which
used examples from the visual art. In Gombrich's own words, “[i]t is in this gathering of evidence that he
[Cicero] draws in the visual arts, thus establishing or fortifying a link between the criticism of rhetoric and
art which made this debate so memorable for both traditions.” [Gombrich, “The Debate on Primitivism in
Ancient Rhetoric,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtlaud Institutes (London: Warburg Institute, University of
London, 1966), 27.]. Cf. Cicero, Marcus Tullius, Brutus, transl. Hendrickson (London, W. Heinemann;
Cambridge, Mass. Harvard University Press, 1952), xviii 70 (page 67).
119
The model of decline can be traced back to two groups of textual sources in classical
antiquity. One lies in texts which described the decline of ancient Roman literature of the
first century AD; the other in the texts which contrasted Attic and Asiatic style of
According to Gordon Williams, for the Roman scholars who criticised the literature of
the first century AD, there were three explanations of decline: ”there was the
explanation in terms of morals; there was the explanation in terms of political change;
and there was the explanation that posited a fundamental law of growth followed by
inevitable decline.”261 On the other hand, the classical authors, arguing for the Attic
style in rhetoric, usually saw a single reason for decline – namely, the political anarchy
of the Greek states following the death of Alexander the Great.262 Regarding both the
literature and rhetorical styles in classical antiquity these authors argued against what
they took to be the decorativeness, effeminacy, abundance, affectation, and imitation of the
earlier authors. These terms as we will see will be invoked often in later art criticism, and
they form what we would like to call here a dictionary of critical terms, which, appearing
in later texts in all their ways can be seen as signalling the notion decline.
262And here we can see a useful link to our speculation about the Epigoni which follows this chapter: It
seems that not only the political actions but also the language of the Epigoni was inferior to that of their
great ancestor.
120
Additionally important for us here is to stress that the classical tradition (from which the
notion of decline derived) “contrasted the idea of perfection with the dangers of
corruption and denounced striving for outward show that pandered to the senses.”263 This
can also be seen in connexion with Williams' concept of self-according as well as of self-
evaluation, because, as he claimed, “classical civilisation is the first, as far as we can tell,
in which this idea of progress became articulate and elicited in its turn a critical
We also noted that most of the authors who made use of the model of decline tended to
explain it by applying what one may call biological metaphors to the process of artistic
fused with what Gombrich has called “the concept of organic growth.”265 This happened
as a result of the philosophical speculations of Aristotle, who was first and foremost a
biologist and, therefore, as Gombrich notes “conceived of the growth of any organism as
263 Gombrich, Ernst H., “The Debate on Primitivism in Ancient Rhetoric” in Journal of the Warburg and
Courtauld Institutes (London: Warburg Institute, University of London, 1966), 24, Emphasis Added...
264 Williams, Op. Cit., 7, Emphasis Added.
265 Gombrich, Ernst Hans, The Ideas of Progress and Their Impact on Art (New York: Cooper Union School of
John Steadman also commented on the different origins of the metaphors that were used to describe the
stylistic sequence from the fourteenth to the seventeenth century:
“The period between the fourteenth and seventeenth centuries has usually resisted attempts to reduce it to a
formula – a Cartesian ‘clear and distinct idea’ – or to assign it a definite beginning, middle and end, like an
Aristotelian tragedy. In the absence of viable definitions, literary scholars have usually found metaphorical
descriptions more attractive – biological images of rebirth and adolescence or maturity, chronological
images of dawn or spring or return to a Golden Age, psychological images like reawakening after long
sleep, or (pejoratively) metaphysical images like the descent of the mind from the goods and evils of the
afterlife to those of this life, and from the glories and torments of the Other-world to the delights and pains
121
Now if we make a chronological leap and turn to the period of the Renaissance, we can
see that it was then that ancient texts, and firstly those on rhetoric and history that
incorporated the model of decline, began to be translated and studied. And indeed, as
has been shown by Herbert Weisinger, Renaissance authors began as early as the
fourteenth century to construct the narrative of the decline of arts. By this account, the
decline occurred either after the fall of the Roman Empire or even at the dawn of ancient
Greek civilisation, as Filippo Villani noted, writing in the 1390s, “the art of painting
reached its height with the Greeks, then declined for many years until Cimabue and
At this point, we note that nature, in addition to the term decline, becomes an important
term for our examination268. In a paragraph taken from Leonardo da Vinci’s Notebooks
of this world – from caelestia to terrena.” [Steadman, John M., Redefining a Period Style: "Renaissance,"
"Mannerist," and "Baroque" in Literature (Pittsburgh, Pa.: Duquesne University Press, 1990), 15.]
Cf. Cast, David, “On Leonardo Not Finishing: Then and Later,” Word and Image, Vol. 20, No. 4 (October-
December 2004), 231-239.
267Weisinger, Op. Cit., 164. [Weisinger’s reference here is to Villani, F., Le Vite d’Uomini Illustri Fiorentini
Scritte da Filippo Villani, ed. Mazzuchelli, Giammaria (Firenze, 1847)]
268This also can be seen in connexion with the revival of the classical antiquity, which resulted in the
acceptance of its evaluative accounts of art and nature. As Erwin Panofsky demonstrated, the classical
antiquity set two opposing motives concerning art side by side (“exactly as happened later during the
Renaissance”): “There was the notion that the work of art is inferior to nature, insofar it merely imitates
nature, at best to the point of deception; and then there was the notion that the work of art is superior to
nature because, improving upon the deficiencies of nature’s individual products, art independently
confronts nature with a newly created image of beauty.” [Panofsky, Erwin, Idea; A Concept in Art Theory,
transl. Peake, Joseph, (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1968), 14]
122
“’The painter will produce pictures of little merit if he takes the works of others as his
standard; but if he will apply himself to learn from the objects of nature he will produce
good results. This we see was the case with the painters who came after the time of the
Romans, for they continually imitated each other, and from their age art steadily
declined.’”269
Hence, “the natural style is taken to be the classical style and by implication the art of the
The re-emerging of the model of decline in the Renaissance was not only an important
aspect of the contemporary humanist revival, but it was also, more significantly, of
this further, let us analyse what it is that we see issuing from this revived model of
decline.
In the Renaissance view, the art and civilisation of classical antiquity (Greek and Roman)
re-assumed a high position in the scale of progress seen retrospectively. Thus, the
paradigm of Classicism as meaning “’of the highest class,’”271 had been established. This
Weisinger, Op. Cit., 164. [Weisinger here refers to Da Vinci, Leonardo, Leonardo Da Vinci’s Note-Books, ed.
269
It may be of interest to add here that by virtue of the etymology of the word the term classical was connected
with the idea of return (which always may be seen as a decline) to the works of the previous artists. To
explain this further, we will quote a paragraph by Gombrich:
“The derivation of the world classical itself throws an amusing light on the social history of taste. For an
auctor classicus is really a tax paying author. Only people of standing belonged to one of the tax paying
classes in Roman society, and it was such people rather than ‘proletarians’ who spoke and wrote a type of
educated language which the aspiring author was advised by the Roman Grammarian Aulus Gellius to
emulate. In that sense the classic is really the ‘classy.’” [Gombrich, Ernst Hans, The Ideas of Progress and their
Impact on Art (New York: Cooper Union School of Art and Architecture, 1971), 10
123
idée fixe, which was based on antique classicism, will continue, we suggest, to haunt
But Renaissance scholars did not present what they thought to be the high standards of
272From a Platonic point of view, an interesting inversion in the Renaissance philosophical concept may be
seen to have occurred: Nature as a domain of manifestation of the divine ideas was contrasted with art,
which appeared to the Renaissance authors as closer to the Ideal. As Steadman noted, “with art and nature
alike imitating the ideas in the divine intellect, and with the example of the ancients providing the best
evidence for the rule of nature and hence the most reliable rule for art – an idealised image more perfect
than the actual creations of nature and closer to the divine archetype or universal idea of species” was
created. [Steadman, Op. Cit., 81.]
This new construct created a parallel world to the Platonic world of ideal forms. Unlike the Platonic one, this
world, constructed by Renaissance thinkers dealing with art, by its character was mundane. It was a world
of ideal art materialised and set in the ancient past, a world which can be attained by sight (or through texts),
imitated and eventually overcome. Let us quote here another useful paragraph from Steadman:
“The remoteness from antiquity in time enhanced aesthetic distance; Renaissance writers could imitate or
evoke antiquity because they had been separated from it by so many centuries of ‘barbarism.’ The forms of
classical civilisation, detached from their original historical context, now possessed (it seemed) an ‘ideal’
reality of their own, a metaphysical validity independent of the historical processes.” [Steadman, Op. Cit.,
54.]
This bringing down to the Earth of something that previously belonged to the elevated divine sphere
corresponds with Renaissance humanism. Even when the Renaissance artist was concerned with God,
according to David Cast, “it was the God who became man, the Word as Flesh, rather than God as mystery,
a God whose nature could be approached only through the paradox of the Trinity.” [Cast, David,
“Humanism and Art” in Renaissance Humanism: Foundations, Forms, and Legacy, vol. 3, ed. Rabil, Albert, Jr.,
(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1988), 416.]
For more on the concept of imitation in classical antiquity and Renaissance see Ackerman, James, "Imitation"
in Antiquity and its Interpreters, ed. Payne, Alina, Kuttner, Ann, and Smick, Rebekah (Cambridge, U.K. ; New
York : Cambridge University Press, 2000), 9-17
273In the Prologue to his book On Painting Leon Battista Alberti argued against the presumption that Nature
lost her ability to produce the “geniuses or giants” so numerous in the antique days. It was in Florence, after
encountering the giants of his time, that Alberti realised that “the power of acquiring wide fame in any art
or science lies in our industry and diligence more than in times or in the gifts of nature.” Thus, in Alberti’s
view, the geniuses from classical antiquity could be overcome. Also, Alberti thought that the classical
predecessors had an easier task than his contemporaries, because of the availability of the models the
Ancients had learned from and imitated, the models that, according to Alberti, were lacking in the present.
He concludes: “Our fame ought to be much greater, then, if we discover unheard-of and never-before-seen
arts and sciences without teachers or without any model whatsoever.” [All citations refer to Alberti, Leon
Battista, On Painting, transl. Spencer, John R. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1956), 39-40.]
124
In this model, Renaissance artists and humanists appeared to be the restorers of an art
and culture, which, according to them, had declined for so many centuries. In addition,
art was treated monolithically and represented through a metaphor of decline (that is to
say, as a decline between two culminating points of Classical and Renaissance art),
Renaissance authors were able to ignore all of the previous attempts to restore the art of
classical antiquity.274 Thus, the Italian Renaissance was positioned as (or declared itself
to be) the single agent of classical revival. We would agree here with Panofsky, who
claimed that fifteenth-century artistic theory in Italy primarily sought “to legitimize
this passage:
It seems interesting to compare these thoughts to those of Herodotus, who “found the original source of
everything in the Orient and especially in Egypt, and the category of borrowing became to him a magic
formula.” [Edelstein, Ludwig, The Idea of Progress in Classical Antiquity (Baltimore: John Hopkins Press, 1967)
32, Emphasis Added.]
Here we refer to the Carolingian Renaissance, the attempts to restore the art of the classical antiquity
274
made in the Byzantine Empire under the reign of the Palaiologos dynasty (later also called Palaeologi
Renaissance; the style of this particular renaissance can be seen in the fresco called Anastasis (1310-20) in
Kariye Camii, Istanbul), etc. This issue was extensively commented on in Panofsky, Erwin, Renaissance and
Renascences in Western Art (Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell, 1960).
Also, by virtue of selecting classical antiquity as a preferable model for artistic revival, the art of classical
antiquity became unified for the first time in history under a single rubric. As Panofsky remarked apropos
Renaissance self-definition:
“And in addition to defining and naming what it [the Renaissance] believed to have left behind, this present
conferred a style and title, so to speak, not only upon what it claimed to have achieved,..., but also and
perhaps even more surprisingly, upon what it claimed to have restored: the world of the Antique” which
was not “designated by a collective word before.” [Panofsky, Erwin, Renaissance and Renascences in Western
Art (Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell, 1960), 8]
If we agree with Panofsky here, we may extend this claim and suggest that by virtue giving a name to it,
Renaissance created the world of the Antique as we perceive it today.
Panofsky, Erwin, Idea; A Concept in Art Theory, transl. Peake, Joseph, (Columbia: University of South
275
125
“This memorable process of [the Renaissance’s] self-realization (‘realization’ in the
double sense of ‘becoming’ and ‘becoming real’) has been described so often and so well
that it would seem superfluous to summarize it once more were it not for the fact that
the art historian, for whose benefit these notes are written, has a special stake in the
matter. While the Renaissance produced his ancestors, the artistically-minded humanists
and the humanistically-minded artists of the fourteenth, fifteenth, and the sixteenth
centuries, these ancestors of his took an important part in shaping the concept of the
Renaissance.”276
From this paragraph it can be suggested here that the Italian Renaissance is defined as a
period which consciously declared itself the agent of historical change and revival. In
addition, not only by its claims, but also by the process of artistic change, the Italian
Renaissance was different from what Panofsky called the previous “’renascences.’”277
This, he added, “amounted to what the biologists would call a mutational as opposed to
By virtue of accepting the classical model of rise and decline, Renaissance authors may
be seen as re-activating the dictionary of critical terms that the ancient authors had used
to describe the cycle of rise and decline. These terms came to constitute a powerful set of
arguments that could be directed later against any art seen as deviating from the revived
276 Panofsky, Erwin, Renaissance and Renascences in Western Art (Stockholm: Almqvist and Wiksell, 1960): 9
277 Ibid., 162.
278 Ibid.
279 John Shearman noted that the critics of the post-Renaissance period made use of critical terms such as
epiphoneme (language that adds ornament rather than carrying sense) and ostentatio artis, concluding that “it
was in these terms too that Aretino attacked Michelangelo’s Last Judgement in his notorious letter of 1545.”
According to Shearman, those critics “all relied upon a mode of attack used in ancient criticism of the Asiatic
school of rhetoric (cultivating style at the expense of its expressive function); but they must all have been
reacting to a kind of Asianism that was real around them.” [Shearman, John K. G., Mannerism
(Harmondsworth, Middlesex, Eng.: Penguin, 1967), 164.]
126
One other important implication is present also in this construct, though it may not have
been made explicit by the humanists: Once art was restored to a peak, then a new
decline was sure to follow. As bequeathed by the Renaissance, this cyclical notion of rise
Vasari also recognised this tradition when he acknowledged a decline, one that in his
eyes occurred after the fall of the Roman Empire281. However, he did not offer a clear
evaluation of the art of his day, and before we examine his evaluative accounts, it is
important to note that he seems not to have made what today one would call a stylistic
distinction between the art of his time (which today we would call Mannerism) and that
of the Renaissance282. However, this was not a result of Vasari's negligence or lack of
280 Craig Hugh Smyth reflected upon this issue in the following paragraph:
“The decline was inevitable and involuntary. It was inevitable that artists should imitate style like
Michelangelo’s and inevitable that decline should follow the early Cinquecento, when the problems of
technique and composition had been solved – like a biological law, as Muentz thought.” [Smyth, Craig
Hugh, “Mannerism and Maniera” in Readings in Italian Mannerism, ed. De Girolami Cheney, Liana (New
York: P. Lang, 1997), 70.]
281 In the Preface to the Lives Vasari invokes the model of decline in the following terms:
”But as Fortune, when she has brought men to the top of the wheel, either for amusement or because she
repents, usually turns them to the bottom, it came to pass after these things that almost all the barbarian
nations rose in divers parts of the world against the Romans, the result the speedy fall of that great empire,
and the destruction of everything, notably of Rome herself.” [Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters,
Sculptors and Architects, vol. 1, (London: Everyman’s Library, 1963), 9.]
Gombrich also claimed that Vasari adopted the model of rise and decline based on the opposition between
Asianism and Atticism. Accordingly, in Vasari’s construct, “[t]he part of the Asian villains is taken by the
Goths, and once more Italy came to the rescue and allowed a new cycle towards the perfection to begin.”
[Gombrich, Ernst Hans, Norm and Form: Studies in the Art of the Renaissance (London; New York: Phaidon,
1978), 101.]
282Bearing in mind that Vasari neither used the word Mannerism nor consciously advocated for Mannerist
art, it is surprising to read the following lines by Liana de Girolami Cheney:
“Vasari promotes the Maniera style in two ways: as an artist in his paintings and as a historian in his writings
of the Vite.” [de Girolami Cheney, Liana , “Vasari’s Position as an Exponent of the Maniera Style” in
Readings in Italian Mannerism, ed. de Girolami Cheney, Liana (New York: P. Lang, 1997), 17, Emphasis
Added.]
127
stylistic perception. It is more likely a consequence of the fact that Mannerism was not
conceived as an art movement in the modern sense of the word and thus did not have a
programme or a manifesto.283
Since also the Renaissance was seen as the pinnacle of post-Classical artistic
development and the art of Vasari’s age was a continuation of the Renaissance, it is
probable that he saw the process of artistic development as a constant linear rise to
perfection, as in the claim by Alex Potts, who concluded that “Vasari’s intention is to
celebrate the art of his own age, an aim that yields not so much a cycle of rise and
283Some authors saw Vasari’s time as heroic, yet burdened by immediate past. Fehl writes:
“But if we will read on in the Lives we shall see that Vasari’s philosophy is by no means naïve. He [Vasari]
lived at a time when he could say with conviction that the arts had risen to a point of perfection at which, for
cause, they were a treasured possession of mankind. In the works of the founding fathers and, above all, in
the art of Michelangelo, the world could see that there was something like perfectibility, in the visual arts,
on the moral scale as well as on the technical, and that the perfection was a source, if not for the
improvement of mankind then of its consolation in adversity, and a source of delight in the sharing of our
virtuous inclinations. Such an art, as Vasari in his gratitude is fond of reiterating, is a very special art and it
takes, at once, good fortune, the hard work of generations of highminded artists, and enlightened
sponsorship to accomplish it. He looks upon it as a blessed discovery, demonstrable almost like discoveries
in science, developed through time but also generated by the vicissitudes of time, in which right and wrong,
and good and bad, have their logic. At the heart of Vasari’s vision of the excellence of art, of its redeeming
quality, are the concepts of disegno and virtù.”
[Fehl, Philipp, P., “Vasari and the Arch of Constantine” in Giorgio Vasari : tra decorazione ambientale e
storiografia artistic : Convegno di Studi (Arezzo, 8-10 ottobre 1981) a cura di Gian Carlo Garfagnini, Firenz :
Leo S. Olschki, 1985), 31, Emphasis Added.]
Donohue, Op. Cit., 333. Professor Donohue included the opinion of Dr. Potts though she did not agree
284
here with his opinion. We use her book here as a source for a quote from Potts.
Alex Potts commented on the issue of decline in Vasari in the following terms:
"Vasari did not seek to integrate his systematic history of the phased development of art to classic
perfection with some larger cyclical pattern of rise and decline." [Potts, Alex, Flesh and the Ideal: Winckelmann
and the Origins of Art History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994), 40.]
Also Potts wrote of Vasari's model: "Vasari's schema is in part designed as a celebration of the classic
achievements of the famous Italian masters of the sixteenth century, who, according to him, effected a crucial
change from mere correctness, and the hardness and rigidity of style that goes with this, to free virtuoso
artistry -- from diligence to effortless mastery and graceful refinement, from an art that made display of the
128
Yet in a single, very important, sentence in the Preface to the Second Part of Le Vite, we
can see the inherited trope of decline compromising this model of linear progression and
anticipating the forthcoming decline. Thus, when describing the third generation of the
“This praise certainly belongs to the third period, of which I may safely say that the art
has done everything that is permitted to an imitator of Nature, and that it has risen so
high that its decline must now be feared rather than any further progress expected.”285
work that went into it to one that effaced all obvious signs of effort and constraint." [Ibid., 75, Emphasis
Added.]
285Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. 1, (London: Everyman’s Library,
1963): 203, Emphasis Added...
We decided to include the Italian original of this paragraph here, because it seems that Potts used a different
translation to support his argument:
“Questa lode certo è tocca alla terza età; nella quale mi par potere dir sicuramente che l’arte abbia fatto
quello, che ad una imitatrice della natura è lecito poter fare, e che ella sia salita tanto alto, che più presto si
abbia a tempere del calare a basso, che sperare oggimai più augumento.” [Vasari, Giorgio, Le Vite de' più
Eccellenti Pittori, Scultori e Architettori (Novara: Istituto geografico De Agostini, 1967): 81, Emphasis Added.]
The phrase calare a basso which Vasari used here (the verb calare usually is translated as “to lower, to bring
down,” but also can be translated as “decline” and “decay” (Cf. Reynolds, Barbara, The Cambridge Italian
Dictionary (Cambridge: University Press, 1962)) can be translated literally as “to fall down.” The editors of
the Novara edition added a footnote to this sentence, suggesting that the notion of “fatal decadence”
(“decadenza fatale”) should be construed in the sense of “’epigonicità.’” [Vasari, Giorgio, Le Vite de' più
Eccellenti Pittori, Scultori e Architettori (Novara: Istituto geografico De Agostini, 1967): 81, Footnote 1.]
{The word epigonicità has several meanings: it indicates the dispute between the successors in general; more
specifically, it refers to the dispute between the successors of Alexander the Great. Epigonicita derives from
the Greek word epigone, which in classical tradition denotes a person born afterwards. [In Italian, the word
epigono means “one of a succeeding (and less distinguished) generation; imitator, successor or a follower of a
genius.” (Reynolds, Barbara, Op. Cit.).] Therefore we would conclude that in the sixteenth-century context,
epigonicita refers to a dispute about the artistic supremacy between the artists who lived in the time after the
peak of art was reached with Michelangelo, and who were thus seen as inferior to their predecessors. [Also
compare to the definition of epigono in Battaglia, Salvatore, Grande Dizionario Della Lingua Italiana (Torino:
Unione Tipografico - Editrice Torinese, 1961]}
To support our argument against Pott's interpretation of Vasari, we will quote here another paragraph in
which the anticipation of decline also can be found:
"For having seen in what way she [art], from a small beginning, climbed to the greatest height, and how
from a state so noble she fell into utter ruin, and that, in consequence, the nature of this art is similar to that
of the others, which, like human bodies, have their birth, their growth, their growing old, and their death;
they [Vasari's contemporaries, the craftsmen] will now be able to recognize more easily the progress of her
129
Such an anticipation of decline is in a way suggested by another factor that appears in
Vasari’s critical evaluation of his contemporaries, that being the position he assigns to
Michelangelo. For when choosing the artist to represent the pinnacle of Italian art,
Vasari did not choose any of his younger contemporaries but Michelangelo, who, it
”[T]he divine Michelangelo Buonarroti….surpasses not only all those who have, as it
were, surpassed Nature, but the most famous ancients also, who undoubtedly surpassed
her.”286
Yet, what were the criteria that Vasari used to evaluate Michelangelo’s art and were they
in any way different from those of the High Renaissance? In the Preface (or Proemium) to
Part III of Le Vite, Vasari names the following: regola, ordine, misura, disegno, and
second birth and of that very perfection whereto she has risen again in our times." [Vasari, Giorgio, Lives of
the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors & Architects, vol. 1, transl. by du C. de Vere, Gaston (London, Macmillan;
Medici Society, 1912-15): lix.]
Denis Mahon claimed that the notion of decline found in Vasari can be interpreted as an emanation of the
disillusioned Zeitgeist of the end of Cinquecento:
“All who were interested in the arts towards the end of the Cinquecento had become painfully aware of the
fact that painters of the very highest calibre had been few and far between after the era of the giants of the
High Renaissance, and that the progress of art as it had been laid down by Vasari -- a process of growth
from infancy to maturity -- seemed to have run its course, leaving the prospect of eventual decay looming
up over the horizon. The feeling in the air that an epoch had ended led to considerable pessimism and
disillusionment.” [Mahon, Denis, “Eclecticism and the Carracci: Further Reflections on the Validity of a
Label” in Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, v. 16, (July 1953), 325.]
286Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. 2, (London: Everyman’s Library,
1963), 154.
In Gombrich’s opinion, “Mannerism comes to its climax at the moment when the inherent ambiguities of the
Renaissance idea of artistic progress become apparent -- at the moment when, by common consent,
Michelangelo has achieved ‘perfection’ by realizing the highest potentialities of his art. On this reading it is a
crisis in the conception of art rather than one rooted in the ‘spirit of the age.’” [Gombrich, Ernst Hans, Norm
and Form: Studies in the Art of the Renaissance (London; New York: Phaidon, 1978), 9.]
Mahon also noted that the general form of Vasari’s Le Vite is “an impressive edifice in which art is shown
evolving to its culmination in Michelangelo.” [Mahon, Denis, “Eclecticism and the Carracci: Further
Reflections on the Validity of a Label” in Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, v. 16, (July 1953), 311.]
130
maniera287. According to Anthony Blunt, “at first there seem to be many remains of High
Renaissance theory in Vasari, but when they come to be examined it appears that all the
elements surviving have been altered and given a new meaning.”288 Vasari’s concept of
maniera (style) was indeed new and it can easily be seen how much importance Vasari
attributed to it289:
“Style [maniera] is improved by frequently copying the most beautiful things, and by
combining the finest members, whether hands, heads, bodies or legs, to produce a
perfect figure, which, being introduced in every work and in every figure, form what is
known as fine style.”290
Also, according to Vasari, it was the lack of finish that made the painters of the second
“[I]f they had possessed this finish, which is the perfection and the flower of arts, they
would have also possessed a resolute boldness in their work, and would have obtained a
287Translated as: rule, order, proportion, design and style [Cf. Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters,
Sculptors and Architects, vol. 2, (London: Everyman’s Library, 1963), 151.]
According to Blunt, the central term Vasari used was not style but grace; grace was “distinguished from
289
beauty and even contrasted to it.” Blunt claims that in Vasari’s Le Vite one can see that “beauty is a rational
quality dependent on rules, whereas grace is an indefinable quality dependent on judgement and therefore
on the eye.” [Ibid., 93]
Philip Sohm, on the other hand, demonstrated that style was not only an important criterion for Vasari's
artistic evaluation, but, moreover, that it was a crucial factor for Vasari's ordering of art history. [Cf. Sohm,
Philip, "Ordering History with Style: Giorgio Vasari on the Art of History," Antiquity and its Interpreters, ed.
Payne, Alina, Kuttner, Ann, and Smick, Rebekah (Cambridge, U.K.; New York: Cambridge University Press,
2000), 40-57]
290Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. 2, (London: Everyman’s Library,
1963), 151.
These lines of Vasari can be seen in connexion with those of Socrates, who, according to Panofsky, claimed
that “the painter should be obliged and enabled to combine the most beautiful parts from a number of
human bodies in order to make the figure to be represented appear beautiful....” [Panofsky, Erwin, Idea; A
Concept in Art Theory, transl. Peake, Joseph, (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1968), 15]. Before
Vasari, it was Alberti who suggested such an approach to painting [Cf. Blunt, Op. Cit., 17].
131
lightness, polish and grace to which they did not attain…. That finish and assurance
which they lacked they could not readily attain by study, which has a tendency to render
the style dry when it becomes an end itself.”291
In this paragraph we can see the emergence of two important concepts: the concept of
turning away from the simple study of nature,292 and even more importantly, the
We would suggest that Mannerist artists might have turned to such an idea of style as a
field for artistic experimentation, exploring a new domain for art – the domain of art
itself, that is, style. To go back to Vasari, the first four aspects of the work of art he
mentioned (that is, all aspects except maniera) can be used to convey another, non-artistic
signification to the viewer. Maniera was, on the other hand, a requisite of art itself. As
conducted by the Mannerists, stylistic experiments allowed them to reflect on the formal
qualities (qualities which, we remember, rested on the first four criteria in Vasari’s
291Vasari, Giorgio, The Lives of the Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. 2, (London: Everyman’s Library,
1963), 152, Emphasis Added.
Vasari’s Le Vite signalled that nature had been exhausted as a source of inspiration; this we can see in
292
Vasari’s comment on Titian (quoted in Blunt, Op. Cit., 89) where Vasari advised the painters against copying
only from nature; instead, he proposed the study of ancient and modern works of art.
293According to Blunt, it was in Michelangelo’s late opus that the departure from the first three criteria
mentioned by Vasari (rule, order, and proportion) occurred. Blunt claimed that “Michelangelo in his later
period relied on imagination and individual inspiration rather than on obedience to any fixed standards of
beauty.” [Blunt, Op. Cit., 75]. However, Blunt does not fail to make a difference between the paintings of
Michelangelo and those of the other Florentine Mannerists: “Florentine Mannerism, as represented in the
painting of Vasari and Bronzino, has neither the rationalism of early Quattrocento Florentine painting, nor
the emotional intensity of Michelangelo’s ‘Last Judgement,’ nor the organized didacticism of Taddeo
Zuccaro.” [Ibid., 87, Emphasis Added.]
132
writings) of Mannerist art which resulted in what one scholar has called a “phase of
formal disintegration.”294
However, it was not only the reaction against the disruption of formal aspects,
precipitated by Mannerism, that led to later negative evaluation of this moment based
on the model of decline. It seems that in the sixteenth century art had a number of other
functions to perform before being allowed to turn introspectively to itself. As soon as the
Mannerism was abandoned, only to be started again in the second half of the nineteenth
Yet these later movements that strove to make art its own purpose seldom remembered
and evoked the sixteenth-century attempts that were driven, if less programmatically,
by the same desire. Thus this earlier moment, today called Mannerism, was not
registered appropriately in the history of art. Mannerism now is still often mentioned in
recent accounts on style; such a connexion between Mannerism and the word maniera –
here understood as style – only worsened its reception in the post-post-modern age,
which has attempted to denounce completely the term style. According to Philip Sohm:
“Style’s demeaned status lingers behind the reluctance of art historians to define it as a
concept. It persists in the modernist prejudice that unfairly associates style with effete
connoisseurs, totalizing Hegelians, and the florid prose of aesthetes.”295
294 Sypher, Wylie, Four Stages of Renaissance Style: Transformations in Art and Literature, 1400-1700 (Garden
City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1955), 106, Emphasis Added.
295 Philip Sohm, Style in the Art Theory of Early Modern Italy, (Cambridge, U.K.; New York: Cambridge
133
As a result, after the 1980s, “the best scholarship on Mannerism either denied its
over historicized studies of maniera where style was defined as a pretext to define
Mannerism.”297
This complex statement, we believe, is a polite invitation for us to explore and revise
concepts of maniera, Mannerism and style that within history are forever intertwined.
Our previous speculation was focused on complex connexions between the words
maniera, style and Mannerism. We also attempted to present the complex origins of
models of stylistic development, most importantly, that of rise and decline, which still
influences the value-judgement and the whole reception of Mannerism. We need to turn
now to our particular topic here, that of style or styles that existed within Mannerism,
and of their application in Bronzino’s work. In the Second chapter which introduced the
according to their subject-matter (or genre), as well as the historical reception of these
different groups of works. In this chapter we will not comment on the portraits as they
always have been seen as the best group of works within his opus. Instead of them, we
will turn to his allegorical paintings (of which not too many survived thus resulting in
less stylistic diversity) and most importantly – to his religious paintings, which are
important both for their number and for the difference in styles they display.
296 Ibid., 8
297 Ibid.
134
We now return to the title of the dissertation: The existence of several modes of
representation or styles in Florence under Cosimo I has been carefully explained and
analysed by scholars298. The arguments here are firmly based on the cultural
opportunities and restrictions that followed the Medici restoration, by which all of the
Academies formed and supported by Cosimo I were governed by rules that would
prevent the academicians from creating any art that could be seen to be against his
regime. Cosimo I also had a more personal reason for presenting himself as a legitimate
initiator of the projects related to Medici aggrandisement, for he came not from the main
branch of the family and yet aspired to be a protégée of Emperor Charles V, which led to
the need for him to incorporate his personal lineage into that of the older, and by then
unrivalled history of the Medicis. Thus Cosimo I “stressed the historical and
ancestors and attempted to trace the Medici lineage to ancient Etruscan kings.”299 And it
was as a part of this connexion with the earlier Medici that the art and the style(s) of the
If look at the work of the artists who influenced Bronzino’s development, we can see
that many worked in several styles that can be recognised in what they did. Raffaellino
del Garbo, for example, can be seen to have used several styles, including that of
298 We will rely here most often on Larry J. Feinberg’s arguments about the several styles in the sixteenth-
century Florentine art he explained in From Studio to Studiolo: Florentine Draftsmanship under the First Medici
Grand Dukes, ed. Feinberg, Larry J. (Oberlin : Allen Memorial Art Museum, Oberlin College ; Seattle :
Distributed by University of Washington Press, 1991).
299 Ibid., 9
135
Botticelli300. The generic sixteenth-century Florentine style was mainly influenced by the
art of Pontormo, Bronzino’s master, and Andrea del Sarto, but was only one amongst
several artistic modes301 or styles, that were available to late sixteenth-century painters in
Florence. The very practice of imitation as defined then resulted in a new and specific
awareness of the distinct styles302 in works of other artists studied and copied, and often
such specific styles were seen as being most decorous for distinct subject matters, or, as
Feinberg concludes:
“Certain artistic styles became associated with particular genres of art, and painters
could choose from a small repertory of styles, or modes, depending on the
circumstances of a specific commission.”303
Most of these styles associated with particular genres came from works of the most
influential an artist as Michelangelo), Bronzino, and Allori. The styles varied not only
according to the genre of the painting, but also as reflections of the demands and artistic
300Here Feinberg referred to Carpaneto, M. G., ‘Raffaellino del Garbo, I. Parte’, Antichità viva, vol. 9 (1970), p.
13, fig. 13
301 Feinberg used the words modes and styles because as he claimed the “acceptance of the Horatian dictum
of ut picture poesis – the equivalence of word and picture – easily led to corollary the principles of rhetoric in
speech and literature, including their systems of modes, could be applied to art. ” This influence of rhetoric
we have already explained when addressing the models of artistic development earlier in this chapter. It can
be added here that the artists from the period who were also poets such as “Agnolo Bronzino and
Michelangelo, would have been well acquainted with the literary criticism of Aristotle, ‘Demetrius’ of
Phaleron, and Horace, and with the Ciceronian modes for public speaking and writing.”[Feinberg, Op. Cit.,9]
302According to Feinberg “[t]he systematization of styles was in some respect a practical outcome of
contemporary [sixteenth-century] art theory, which had organized the abstract principles that lay behind the
practice of the arts into the doctrine of disegno.” Feinberg, Op. Cit., 10. For Vasari’s comment on imitation
see Supra 93.
136
“For Medici propaganda and other secular histories, many late sixteenth-century
Florentine artists would employ a very legible and prosaic Sartesque or Pontormoesque
mode …; for a pious, old-fashioned patron, an archaistic and uncomplicated arte sacra
style …; for a sophisticated nobleman, an extravagant and complex maniera (cat. No. 42
[Bronzino, drawing for the Martyrdom of St Lawrence]); and so on.”304
St Lawrence, painted for a nobleman of sophisticated taste, thus suggesting the style of
Bronzino’s fresco, which we will analyse later. We do not know what the Duke thought
about it, but judging from the negative reactions to it from the literati, it seems that the
suggestions Cosimo I gave to Bronzino about it, if there ever were any, were not
understood well or were not carried out in a satisfactory manner. This example raises
another issue: whether the painters themselves knew, by the previous commissions and
the status of the patron, what style to apply, or whether there was a specific suggestion
from the patron that then they followed. This issue now for the lack of evidence will
What we can tell though is from this process of applying styles previously used new
paintings by often less known painters could be misattributed to the very painters
whose style they adopted. Thus when Pontormo later was so highly praised in the first
decades of the seventeenth century, many portraits by Andrea del Sarto and Bronzino305
were attributed to him. It has also been claimed that Vasari preferred Bronzino to
Pontormo306: the latter he criticised for adopting the German manner, a change which
could be said of many other painters of the period, like Baccio Bandinelli, or del Sarto,
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who also studied Dürer’s etchings.307 It is important to mention this problem here
because of the very notion of epigonicity that will be discussed in the next chapter. This
is a difficult issue, and again one that cannot be resolved easily: we have noted earlier
that in his first works Bronzino was influenced by Pontormo, as Vasari confirmed308,
perhaps a direct result of his deliberate decision to imitate the style or mode of his
master, who was so highly regarded at that time in Florence. On the other hand, it was
this very similarity in styles between master and pupil that led Vasari to attribute certain
“Vasari said that the Evangelists painted in tondi on the Capponi Chapel ceiling were
executed in Pontormo’s ‘maniere di prima.’ Ever the skilful diplomat, Vasari knew that
Bronzino was responsible for one or two of those pictures.”309
Pontormo influenced not only Bronzino’s style but also the way in which he made
“As senior academician and an artist who, according to Vasari, encouraged serious
study in his workshop beyond proficiency in practical matters, Bronzino may have been
a strong advocate of the study of Pontormo’s drawings and working methods. In
accordance with the institution’s statutes, he and other consoli (chief officers) were given
much of the responsibility for guiding younger artists. Bronzino himself followed
Pontormo’s procedures and was faithful to the Florentine procedures of scrupulous care
in the preparations for a work of art. In his numerous detailed studies, he showed little
concession to the speed in execution for which Vasari praised the painters in the third
quarter of the century…. When, at mid-century, the old practice of studying figures from
the model was being abandoned by Florentine artists, Bronzino was one of the few who
held to traditional ways.”310
138
Let us now turn to a specific analysis of Bronzino’s paintings now. We have seen that in
the genre of the portrait his style did not move significantly between stylistic extremes.
are evident, and the style or modus he applied could vary widely according to the status
of the patron. Some such portraits were to be displayed more publically, but at the same
time, many of the portraits exhibited publicly also may have been intended for private
viewing, especially those copied and sent to the various courts of Europe. However,
whatever the differences in style in these portraits, the general attitude and judgement of
these works is consistent, that they are praised as his highest achievement throughout
history.
Far more troublesome for critics are his allegorical and religious works. We have seen
earlier that the small number of such allegories that have survived – and their thematic
resemblance – has led many historians to see them essentially as a variation of the one
allegorical picture considered the best, namely the Allegory of Venus and Cupid (1540-1545,
National Gallery, London). The other allegories painted later, Venus, Cupid and Jealousy
(1550, Szépművészeti Múzeum, Budapest) and Venus, Cupid and a Satyr (1555, Colonna
Gallery, Rome), for all difference in composition, colouration and style, can be seen as
very similar311 since they reflect, in a less complicated way, the same theme of the
311However, both of the paintings differ significantly from London Allegory and between themselves: Venus,
Cupid and Jealousy is painted on vertical and Venus, Cupid and a Satyr on horizontal format. Venus, Cupid and
Jealousy does not include as many allegorical representations as the London Allegory, and we would argue,
presents a different moment in the story of Venus and Cupid (if we accept Panofsky’s interpretation),
presumably the moment before the Time and Truth unveil the actions of Deceit, who is symbolically present
(yet invisible) in the form of her abandoned masks. Also, Venus, Cupid and Jealousy is executed in darker
colours, and its composition is less crowded. Although the members of the bodies in the painting often
interlap, there is a clear depiction of space between them as well as of the space behind them, and thus the
effect of Mannerist compression and layering of the space in this paintings is lessened. The view that
Jealousy opens in the upper left corner is to what appears to be landscape, unlike that in the London
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London Allegory, that is the playful relationship between Venus and Cupid, undeniably
recognisable by their attributes. The last of these allegories, the one now in Rome, Venus,
Cupid and a Satyr (1555, Colonna Gallery, Rome) displays a rather vivid choice of colours,
though this may be the result of its recent restoration. Finally, the horizontal format of
Bronzino’s allegories.
The most interesting and the least studied allegorical painting remains one picture
known under three different titles: the Allegory of Fortitude, or the Allegory of Happiness,
or the Allegory of Fortune. This was executed between 1565 and 1570 and the support
here, unlike any other of Bronzino’s works, was metal, in this instance – copper. For all
its small scale, it is was a significant painting, since it was intended to be part of the
Allegory. The composition of Venus, Cupid and a Satyr follows more strictly the composition and the format
of Pontormo’s Venus and Cupid (1533, Accademia, Florence). Whereas in Pontormo’s Venus and Cupid the
background opens up into a full landscape to the left of the entangled bodies of Venus and Cupid, the
background of Bronzino’s is again hidden by drapery and hence the whole image suggests an interior rather
than exterior space, a satyr, a mythological creature unseen in the earlier two allegories, perhaps presenting
the nature instead.
312 Located in the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence, the Studiolo which is now acknowledged as his principal
legacy was a small hidden vaulted room where the Duke stored his collection of small, precious, unusual, or
rare objects and materials, which reflected his interests ranging from alchemy to zoology. For Francesco I de’
Medici this Studiolo constituted a private cabinet of curiosities where by meditating on the content and their
allegories, the Duke would attempt to attain universal knowledge. The program for the images in the
Studiolo was devised by famous artists and learned men of the time, namely by Giorgio Vasari (1511-74),
Vincenzo Broghini (1515-80) and Giovanni Battista Adriani (1513-79). For reasons now unknown the
Allegory of Happiness, though initially displayed there also with Bronzino’s portrait of Eleonora of Toledo (1545,
Uffizi, Florence), was removed from the Studiolo.
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Yet before we continue with this analysis, we find it necessary to say again that the
speculation here is important for our main topic, that is, for understanding of how
Bronzino applied different styles even when making paintings of the same genre. For
the lack of a proper and widely accepted account of this image, we will present here a
brief analysis based on visual and iconographical evidence plus a single article by
Graham Smith, and we regret that we cannot offer more than one interpretation in
will disagree here with Smith and claim that the composition of Allegory of Happiness
does not in that respect resemble Bronzino’s previously painted allegorical paintings –
the London Allegory and the two which followed it. We would rather see this particular
composition as centralised and symmetrical, and further, we would not classify this
concluded that Bronzino’s “Allegory of Fortune (c. 1565-70; Uffizi) [is] indebted to
313 Smith, Graham, “Bronzino's Allegory of Happiness, “The Art Bulletin, Vol. 66, No. 3. (Sep., 1984), 390-99.
314Ibid., 390.
315Feinberg, Op. Cit., 16
We included the information about this important yet neglected Brozino’s allegory that does not relate
directly to the issue of its style in the footnote here:
There are at least eight major and recognisable figures in the Allegory of Happiness (and here we do not
include fragments of bodies which Smith recognised) and we will try now to identify some of them. Before
we proceed, it needs to be said that, according to many writers on the sixteenth-century allegorical painting
and apparati, the artists creating them were not always entirely positive about the meanings of all the
allegories they represented. Moreover, they mixed various gods and goddesses as well as their attributes,
using different representation of those from different sources available to them from the antiquity. Often
these complicated allegories involved several representations of deities were devised by literati, and it was
to their programme that the sophisticated audience was to turn when decoding the subject-matter. However,
since we are not entirely positive what was the original intent that resulted in the commission of the Allegory
of Happiness, it remains difficult for us to determine who devised its programme, if anyone indeed did. If it
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The composition of the Allegory is divided clearly into three vertical and three horizontal
segments. The central vertical segment of the Allegory of Fortune, accommodating the
figure of Fortune, is also the largest (compared to the lateral ones, in which the figures of
Janus (to the left) and Justice (to the right) are placed) and it thus suggests that here
composition in the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence (1564-69, San Lorenzo, Florence), a fresco
Bronzino executed in the same period, as well. Unlike the earlier allegories that were
asymmetrical due to their composition and dispersion of colours, the centrality in this
painting is achieved both by the composition and by the concentration of the colourful
fabrics in the figure of Fortune. Although the space in the painting is somewhat
Allegory of Happiness a clearer sense of spatial relationships, since some of its surface is
given to the background, and also since figures and their members do not overlap to the
extent they did in Bronzino’s previous allegories. Unlike in the most famous three
allegories representing Venus and Cupid, the background here is not partially hidden by
an expensive fabric but rather open, allowing a greater recession in the picture space,
which is another similarity between this painting and the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence.316
was commissioned by Francesco de Medici, and if it was executed in 1567, then it could have been a part of
the programme for his Studiolo. The other possibility is that the painting was commissioned to
commemorate the wedding ceremony of Francesco de’ Medici to Joanna of Austria, perhaps, as Smith
informs us, similar to other apparati Bronzino had “designed for a façade of the Palazzo Ricasoli.” [Smith,
Op. Cit., 390]
316 We will include our more detailed description and analysis of the Allegory here in the footnotes, so as not
The upper horizontal portion of the Allegory of Happiness is given to the skies and to two winged creatures,
one of which, presumably Glory, crowns Happiness with a wreath of laurel leaves whilst the other,
142
Absent from this painting is the dramatic compression and layering of the space and
figures. Whereas in the Allegory of Venus and Cupid (1540-1545, National Gallery, London)
identified as Fame, announces her by blowing in two fanfares. Both of these allegories are in accordance to
iconographical programmes used in the Renaissance, and here Smith remains very accurate in his analysis.
However, one needs to think sometimes beyond mere identification – we should perhaps remember that
Fame did not have exclusively positive connotation in Antiquity, as it was said to double the news it
spreads: it announces things that happened as well as those that did not happen.
Sitting on the throne supported by carved upper body of Hercules, holding a cornucopia in her left hand
and caduceus and her right hand, is Happiness, here represented with attributes of other gods and
goddesses, caduceus, for example, being the usual attribute of Apollo, Mercury and Aesculapius. The
colours of her dress may suggest Christian iconography, especially bearing in mind that next to her a child
is represented, easily identifiable as Cupid, though. Smith goes further than this and identifies Happiness as
Felicitas publica, a specific kind of the allegorical representation of Happiness that can be traced to Roman
coins from Roman Imperial period, and as such known and described in great detail by both Vasari and
Vincenzo Cartari.
The female figure to our right clearly represents Justice, for she holds a sword in one and a balance in her
other hand. What is not in accordance with the usual representation of Justice is that here she is half-naked,
whereas she is usually depicted as dressed. Also, the balance is not held freely by Justice, but rather it is
shown as resting on stone base resembling a cube, which for Smith symbolises stability and constancy.
Most difficult for iconographical identification is the figure symmetrical to Justice, placed on the left section
of the painting. This creature’s head is composed two halves of two different frontal heads, separated bi-
laterally by a thin scarf. The face on the right is female and it gazes at the Justice, whereas the one of the left
is male, and it looks away from it. The lower part of this composite creature’s body is female, holding in its
lap a terrestrial globe. A snake encircles its left underarm, yet this does not seem to arouse its reaction;
rather the snake appears as an attribute of this mysterious allegorical creature. Smith easily identifies this
god or goddess as Janus or Prudence, completely ignoring the gender difference in its face. For Smith this is
a minor issue, whereas we believe that his entire interpretation based as it is on an analogy with Bronzino’s
previous allegories, is undermined by this dubious attribution. Instead of Smith’s interpretation we would
suggest that this figure should be identified with the offspring of the ancient goddess Cybele or Magna
Mater [Cf. Roller, Lynn E., In Search of God the Mother: The Cult of Anatolian Cybele (Berkeley, 1999)].
According to Arnobius, Jupiter attempted and yet never succeeded to rape the oldest of the gods – Cybele –
while she slept on Mount Agdos in Phrygia. As his attempts failed, he poured out his semen on the
mountain, which became pregnant and gave birth to Agdestis, a creature wild and uncontrollable,
possessing the genitals of both sexes. This dual sexuality and vivid libido threatened the gods themselves,
and eventually they chopped off the male genitals of Agdestis. Other sources suggest that Cybele was
represented with attributes of both genders. Mercedes Rochelle defined Cybele as the “Phrygian goddess,
half male/half female until castrated by gods.” [Rochelle, Mercedes, Mythological and Classical World Art
Index: A Locator of Paintings, Sculptures, Frescoes, Manuscript Illuminations, Sketches, Woodcuts, and Engravings
Executed 1200 B.C. to 1900 A.D., With a Directory of the Institutions Holding Them (Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland,
1991), 70]. The cult of Cybele was known in Rome in the form of Magna Mater, and she was represented
earlier in Renaissance by Andrea Mantegna. Guy de Tervarent in his account of objects which are associated
with different allegories and mythological subjects lists globe as an attribute of Cybele.316 According to
Tervarent, the globe is also associated with: Supremacy over the World (used by the Emperors of the Holy
Roman Empire), War – associated with Caesar armed, Justice, Love, Geometry, Attribute of the Day, Cybele,
magna mater (personification of the Earth, appeared in Andrea Mantegna’s “Triumph of Scipio” in
National gallery, London), Saturn, Philosophy and many more. [Tervarent, Guy de, Attributs et symboles dans
l'art profane, 1450-1600; dictionnaire d'un langage perdu (Genève: Droz, 1958), 199-203]
143
the body and allegorical figures, in Allegory of Happiness all of the allegories are distinct
from one another and, more importantly, arranged so as to emphasise the central figure
in the picture, a feature that presents the third similarity in composition of the Allegory of
Happiness with the Martyrdom. Such an arrangement in both of these images can easily
be seen as connected with the demands for clarity and simplicity in pictorial
As we have seen, the identification that Smith presented is possible, and if so, Bronzino’s
last, unusual allegory remains open to further interpretation. As interesting as task this
may appear to us now, we will not attempt to decipher the most difficult allegories in
this particular painting, namely the ones located on the left and in the centre of this
picture, which need to be studied further if we accept that Smith’s explanation requires
Bronzino had applied here a different mode or style, one that clearly corresponded to a
particular purpose of this allegory, if we are to believe that it was meant to be a part of
the programme for the Studiolo of Francesco I de’ Medici. This new and different style
in our opinion can be seen as quite similar to that of Bronzino’s Martyrdom of St.
Lawrence which was executed in his final years and which reflected the painter’s
Finally we come to Bronzino’s works in religious subjects, among which are paintings
that have carried the harshest criticism. This group of Bronzino’s pictures is also the
most diverse in style. The paintings included here range from depictions of single Saints
(St. Sebastian, St. John the Baptist), in which the whole treatment of the features and the
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background evoke his style in portraits, to compositions on a vast scale (Christ in Limbo,
the Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence) with grandiose and complicated backgrounds and
many figures, composed often in different styles, as the painter progressed in his
stylistic development. Needless to say, there were some religious pictures in his opus
that cannot be classified in either of these groups, but here we will limit ourselves to a
few examples for our purpose, all of undisputed authorship. Since our intention here is
also to show the richness and flexibility of Bronzino’s style or styles, it is necessary to
present these pictures chronologically, to show how they follow the general pattern of
question the stylistic unity of the paintings executed in the same period of Bronzino’s
development. At the same time, we will see these religious pictures as individual works,
their particularities being reflected in the different styles that Bronzino chose to apply in
each of them, which are not necessarily following the chronological model of stylistic
development in his work. Finally, we hope that such an approach will show these works
in a new light and shield them from stylistic generalisations emanating from the notion
Bronzino’s early works such as the Holy Family with SS Anne and John (1526-27, National
Gallery, Washington), the Dead Christ with the Madonna and the Magdalen (1528-29, Uffizi,
Florence), and the Holy Family with St. John (1535, Uffizi, Florence), stand as a group that
can hardly be seen as stylistically uniform. Whereas the composition, proportion and
facial features of the actors in the Holy Family with SS Anne and John show strong
influences of Pontormo’s style, The Dead Christ with the Madonna and the Magdalen echoes
the balanced and stable compositions of the Renaissance. The Holy Family with St. John is
145
executed in what we would like to see as fully developed Mannerist style, or containing
many of the elements of style that make this work easily recognisable as Mannerist, and
yet not recognisably executed by Bronzino. Such a stylistic diversity in these early works
transition from derivative and old fashioned to original and then contemporary style.
artistic inexperience that led to a chaotic choice of styles, as many critics who cannot
recognise Bronzino’s style as different from Pontormo’s in this period claim. But in the
choice, this painting was very well received by contemporaries (including Raphaelle
Borghini), and liked then and now for its restraint and the absence of Mannerist
exaggerations.
The next work in this genre was the Eleonora Chapel, (1541-45, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence)
consisting of the fresco cycle and an altar centrepiece, both important and particular for
a number of reasons. Though the frescoes were executed in a private space which
limited their size, they still successfully presented a complex yet clear programme. Yet
here, it seems, Bronzino made a stylistic division of the pictures based on their position,
painting the walls of the chapel in a fully developed, rich, and complex Mannerist style,
while in the design for the ceiling he showed restraint that signalled even the
forthcoming simplicity and clarity of Baroque Classicism. The third fragment of the
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Eleonora Chapel – the altar centrepiece representing the Deposition (1541-45, Palazzo
Vecchio, Florence) – was executed in a slightly old-fashioned manner. And it was the
fashion, making it a highly suitable gift for a high foreign dignitary. Though
undoubtedly influenced by the Mannerist preference for contortion of the bodies, and
the layering of the space, the frescoes that form this complex, yet small-scale programme
on the walls of the Eleonora Chapel were always highly praised, since the private
character of the Chapel seem to have excluded the judgements based on the issue of
decorum. To be more clear: the fact that the images in the chapel in the end remained
private spared them from the standard critique that could have been raised had these
We can now return to the simple cause which initiated condemnation of later religious
works by Bronzino executed in churches: for these were exposed publically, and the
nudity in them, even if considered beautiful by the standards of disegno, disturbed the
critics after the Council of Trent, since any such aesthetic appeal disturbed the religious
narrative of the painting, that was to be easily accessible to the spectators. Thus it seems
that the differences in styles in Bronzino’s religious pictures in this period, all of which
defy notions of linear and teleological development, can easily be distinguished and
then attributed not to his lack of experience, but to a conscious decision on his part
which resulted in a style that was then flexible and even decorous. This flexible style or
styles transcended the simple boundaries of chronology and periodicity revealing a new
quality in Bronzino’s religious works, never truly recognised or praised, and his
sensibility and care towards his patrons and the environments in which his pictures
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were to be placed. Such attention, if not completely in accord to the new demands
established by the Tridentine Council, show Bronzino as a deeply versatile painter who,
in his own manner, completely respected the notion of decorum, then understood to
Now we turn to the last phase in Bronzino’s religious works, one that is stained by
criticism that perhaps came as a consequence of the acts of the Council of Trent, which
stressed certain aspects in religious paintings which needed to be clear and easily
accessible to the viewer (the Saints and the Martyrs being represented in a clear way,
with their recognisable attributes), and yet which never accumulated a number of
systematic rules that were to be followed in late Cinquecento and Seicento religious
works. To such criticism the last grand commissions Bronzino received were exposed.
We will mention here his most important paintings the Descent of Christ into Limbo, (1552,
Annunziata, Florence) and Noli Me Tangere (1560-65, Louvre, Paris). The Ressurection and
the Descent were harshly attacked, and although we have the authentic reactions to these
pictures by Borghini, those are often ambivalent and cannot serve as a reliable source of
what stirred such a negative reaction. And since our concern in this chapter is with the
style of Bronzino’s pictures and not with their reception, we can easily classify them in
two groups. The Descent of Christ into Limbo and the Resurrection of Christ clearly belong
to the group of works that developed from the earlier Deposition – they display many
figures in difficult postures, the composition is crowded with naked bodies, the vertical
figure of Christ presenting the central and focal point of the action depicted. In both the
Descent and the Resurrection, the scenes represent clearly one moment in the narrative (or
148
sacred history), and the richness of the composition is achieved by numerous
interactions between the figures. By their grandeur and focus on the form of the body
these paintings can be compared to Michelangelo’s Last Judgement. We will note here
again one important feature – that Bronzino, although representing many figures in
different and difficult postures, organised the composition of these two pictures by
using a simple, symmetrical, one could say polygonal- or oval-shaped layer of bodies,
that served to accentuate further the hierarchically larger and centrally positioned figure
of Christ. This compositional quality makes these two paintings significantly different
from all of Broznino’s earlier religious pictures, except from the Budapest Adoration
(1535-40), the ceiling of the Eleonora chapel (1541-45), and the first version of the
Deposition for the Eleonora chapel (1541-45), the very images in which he found the most
successful mode or style, at least judging by the reactions of his contemporaries. We can
then conclude that perhaps Bronzino was not as inflexible as he was often presented, but
that he here, in his later religious works, instead of following strictly the early
Mannerist style of his previous works, made concessions to the taste of his audience and
Noli Me Tangere (1560-65), finished almost ten years after them, shows differences in
composition and modelling of the bodies. Most importantly, there are only four figures
represented in the foreground, whereas the background is used to narrate the story
which preceded the encounter of Mary Magdalene with Christ. This asymmetrical
composition in which the centre of the picture is not given to the figure of Christ but to
the space that divides Christ from Mary Magdalene, cleverly restates the title of the
painting: the impossibility of any contact between Magdalen and the resurrected Christ.
149
What makes this picture essentially different from the Descent of Christ into Limbo, (1552)
and the Resurrection of Christ (1552) is the way the body of Christ was represented. In
Noli Me Tangere the figure of Christ occupies an asymmetrical – and by virtue of its
brightness – highly accentuated position in the picture plane. More importantly, Christ’s
figure in this particular Biblical scene had never been represented as almost completely
nude, as Bronzino did here, probably following Michelangelo’s image of Christ in his by
then famous and notorious Last Judgement.317 The serpentine modelling of Christ’s body
in Noli Me Tangere, instead of following the Biblical narrative and continuing the
pictorial tradition of this scene, rather served to express Bronzino’s abilities to depict
such difficulties of anatomy and posture. And although the scene is made clearly
recognisable by the attributes that Christ and Mary Magdalene have, these concessions
to the notion of decorum could hardly have eliminated the main issue that made
the nakedness of the bodies and their inappropriateness for a sacral building. Thus in
Noli me Tangere, one of the last great commissions entrusted to Bronzino, one perhaps
can see his style as inflexible when representing a specific subject matter.
Having analysed three main religious pictures from his later period, we would extend
this statement to claim that Bronzino was fully aware of issues of decorum when
painting different religious scenes, to which attest differences in his work in this genre,
which to us seem not accidental, but carefully planned. If we were to assign different
styles to these three paintings according to Feinberg’s proposition, the Descent of Christ
into Limbo and the Resurrection of Christ would belong to the group of works in which the
317
Infra, 178-79.
150
style was old-fashioned, the composition of the whole image based on principles of the
earlier Renaissance, whereas the modelling of the particular figures was still clearly
commission of the period – the Nativity (1564, Church of the Cavaliers of S. Stefano, Pisa).
The style of Noli Me Tangere (1560-65) on the other hand, may be called in Feinberg’s
terms extravagant and complex, and for that reason it remained understandably the
By using these well-known examples from Bronzino’s later allegorical and religious
opus (with the exception of the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, which we intend to study in
greater detail in the next chapter), we hope we were able to show that Bronzino style did
not change merely because of his own artistic improvement or its decline, but that even
in his last works, he was observant of different influences that were reflected in his
works, which made them a fine example of a number of styles that many great
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Chapter IV.
Epigonicità
It is now time to turn to the last term and cultural concept of this dissertation, namely to
the notion of epigonicity. The term epigonicità (from which the aforementioned English
word derives) appeared rather late in Italian – in the nineteenth century – and to our
commentary on the 1967 Novara edition of Vasari’s Le Vite318 and there it was used to
clarify a paragraph in Vasari on the painters of the third epoch.319 To be more specific:
the editors of the Novara edition, referring to Vasari’s notion of decline that is to be
feared after art has reached such heights, suggested in a footnote that his notion of “fatal
“’epigonicità.’”322
318 Vasari, Giorgio, Le Vite de' più Eccellenti Pittori, Scultori e Architettori (Novara: Istituto geografico De
Agostini, 1967).
319 We already commented in great detail on this particular sentence about decline that Vasari foresaw when
analysing the development of the arts of the third epoch supra, [the reference is to: Giorgio, Le Vite de' più
Eccellenti Pittori, Scultori e Architettori (Novara: Istituto geografico De Agostini, 1967): 81]
320 Vasari, Giorgio, Le Vite de' più Eccellenti Pittori, Scultori e Architettori (Novara: Istituto geografico De
321 Vasari, Giorgio, Le Vite de' più Eccellenti Pittori, Scultori e Architettori (Novara: Istituto geografico De
Agostini, 1967), 81, Footnote 1.
322 Ibid., 81, Footnote 1.
152
We then traced this reference and realised that epigonicità itself was a term, if not
frequent, then useful for our purposes, since it brought us back in yet a new way to the
notion of decadence (or rise and decline) which already was a topic of our discussion.
Whilst the editors of the Novara edition used epigonicità in its general and contemporary
meaning, which refers to the problem of the ‘late-born’ or ‘after-born’ artists or artists-
successors who worked after great masters, we wanted to explore the whole range of the
meanings of this word. Our primary research on the term epigonicità ended with a few
short definitions: epigonicità indicates the dispute between successors in general; also,
more specifically, it refers to the dispute between the successors of Alexander the Great.
The etymology of the word in Italian is more illuminating: the word epigono means “one
genius.”323 More importantly, we found a Greek origin of the term: epigonicità derives
from the word epigoni, or epigonoi, which most generally in the classical tradition denotes
a person born afterwards. However, when we looked into the term epigonoi from which
the term epigonicità derives, new layers of meanings emerged, and it became clear that
this complicated history needs to be introduced here, so that we can apprehend the
ambiguities arising around it and giving birth to various meanings of the word.
323 Reynolds, Barbara, The Cambridge Italian Dictionary (Cambridge: University Press, 1962).
153
In his book Early Greek Myth: A Guide to Literary and Artistic Sources Timothy Gantz gives
a very clear account of the emergence of the term epigonoi324, and we quote here Gantz in
“From Herodotos we learn that there was also an epic Epigonoi, at times attributed to
Homer (Hdt 4.32). From this title, and the fact that in the poem Manto, daughter of
Teiresias, was sent to Delphi from the spoils by the Epigoni, …, we assume that the
work related to the sack of Thebes by the children of the Seven, who were known as the
Epigonoi, or ‘After-born.’ The successful attack is, of course, well known to the Iliad:
Sthenelos, son of Kapaneus, boasts of how he and the other sons succeeded in assaulting
Thebes (with fewer men) where their fathers failed (Il 4.405—10).”325
In the fifth century the Epigonoi were mentioned in Pindar’s Pythian 8, which “offers a
prophecy from the dead Anphiaraos while the Epigonoi (so named) approach Thebes in
this ‘second march’ (Py 8.39—55).”326 The works of later Greek dramatists seem not to
provide more information on or about the myth: for Aischylos’ Epigonoi we really know
nothing beyond the title, and “[w]ith Sophokles we do scarcely better on story lines”327
in Gantz’s words.
The Epigonoi are mentioned later in Asclepiades, Thucydides, and in Pausanias, yet
these sources are fragmentary, Pausanias, for example, merely mentioning the
monument of the Epigonoi at Delphi, “placed by Argives next to that of the Seven and
commemorating the same event, the victory over the Spartans at Oinoe (10.10.40.).”328
324 We need note here that the spelling for the term we will use as “epigone” differs from author to author,
depending, we believe, on the phonetic transcription of the original term Επίγονοι in Greek. Additionally,
the spelling differences appear in names of ancient writers such as Herodotus, Sophocles, etc., and we will,
when making a citation, keep the spelling that was in the original text to which we refer as to a source.
325 Gantz, Timothy, Early Greek Myth: A guide to Literary and Artistic Sources, vol.2, (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
154
According to Edward Tripp, the story of the Epigoni can be seen as a part of a larger
group of Greek epic poems, the Epic Cycle, which “was loosely applied by some ancient
writers to a considerable number of epic poems, some of which were already lost in the
Hellenistic era.”329 The authors of the poems were forgotten or the poems themselves
came to be attributed to several writers, and only fragments of the whole cycle survive.
However, the poems of the Epic Cycle can be divided in two groups: one that depicts the
war against Thebes, and the other that depicts the war against Troy and its aftermath.
The Theban epics include: Oedipodeia (history of Oedipus), Thebaïd (war between Thebes
and Argos), and the Epigoni (the story of the avenging of the Argive champions by their
“These sons [of the Seven against Thebes], some of whom were eager to avenge their
fathers, became known to legend as the Epigoni, because they were ‘born after’ (than the
Seven). The Delphic oracle assured them that they would succeed in destroying Thebes
if Alcmeon led them.”330
However, the victory of the Epigoni was foreseen by the Theban seer Teiresias, who
advised his men to send emissaries to the Epigoni and discuss surrender before the
battle. In the meantime, during the night, some of the Thebans escaped from Thebes,
and the victory of the Epigoni was over a semi-deserted city. There in Thebes they
established one of them, Thersander, as the king, and from there they sent some of the
spoils to Delphi. Most of the Epigoni returned home to Argos, while most of the
Thebans seem to have evaded the battle with the Epigoni and have survived by moving
to Illyria and Thessaly. The tale of the Epigoni ends with the beginning of another myth:
329 Tripp, Edward, Crowell's Handbook of Classical Mythology, (New York : Crowell, 1970), 225.
330 Ibid., 226, Emphasis Added.
155
“Most of [the Epigoni] eventually distinguished themselves fighting with the Greeks at
Troy under Diomedes’ leadership.”331
All of the accounts found in books on classical mythology agree with this version of the
myth, the differences appearing only in the attitude towards possible historical proofs of
the pillage of Thebes, which usually are not considered accurate and thus not
mentioned332. Although Michael Grant and John Hazel give a similar version of the
myth of the Epigoni, they differ in the translation of the term itself. Whereas Tripp’s
translation of the term was born after, Grant and Hazel suggested the word epigoni to
Those are the accounts found in the classical sources that dealt with poetry and myths.335
However, if we look into the history of the post-Alexandrian world we can find a
different meaning of the word Epigoni, which then came to be applied to actual
historical personae. This new meaning depended perhaps on the previous mythological
and literary tradition, yet if it did so, it also brought a more negative connotation to the
term which can be explained in the historical accounts describing the state of the empire
of Alexander the Great in his final years and after his death. Most of the sources agree
1993), 122
334 Ibid.
335Both the mythology and the history of the city of Thebes are given in great detail in The Oxford Companion
to Classical Literature, and there the political connexions of Thebans with Persians and Macedonians are
explained. Cf. The Oxford Companion to Classical Literature, ed. Howatson, M. C. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press), 562.
156
that the Epigoni of Alexander the Great could also be called Diadochi or Successors.
These were a number of Macedonian generals who were rival successors to Alexander
the Great. Although Alexander made significant efforts to preserve the unity of his
empire after his death, firstly by adopting Persian court etiquette and secondly by
fostering marriages between Greeks and Persians, these cultural changes were not
warmly welcomed by his fellow Macedonian generals. After many wars (the so-called
Diadochian wars), the empire of Alexander the Great was divided into several
kingdoms which were ruled by the dynasties formed by the Diadochi. The main
kingdoms or states that thus emerged included territories in Asia Minor and Syria under
the Seleucids, the territory of Egypt under the Ptolemies, and the territory of Macedonia
under the Antigonids. Gradually these kingdoms were merged in the Roman Empire
and although some of the states that the Diadochi formed outlasted the Empire of
Alexander by centuries336, these were smaller kingdoms and the fact that this second
generation could not maintain the Empire they inherited from Alexander as a whole
made them appear as inferior rulers. Thus it is clear how the complex term Epigoni, the
genesis of which lies in the traditions of ancient Greek plays, acquired a new pejorative
meaning, which may in a way have suppressed the original one. And since, as we have
seen, the epic cycle which included Epigoni was lost, the more recent, post-Alexandrian
It would be too great a task to explain the changes in the connotation of the word epigone
that occurred from antiquity to the present, so we are forced to make a great leap here,
and to rely on the sources available to us today. It is quite interesting that a full
336 The Ptolemies, for example, ruled in Egypt from IIIrd century BC to Ist century AD.
157
definition of the term epigonoi can be found in an old-fashioned Serbian Lexicon of
Foreign Words and Idioms by Milan Vujaklija first published in 1920, where several
different senses of this term are conveniently organised according to the different
“Epigonoi (έπι–γόνοι)337
mythology: descendants, especially sons of seven Greek heroes who died in the first war
against Thebes, who, ten years after their [fathers’] death, revenged their fathers and
destroyed Thebes;
history: the sons of the heirs of Alexander the Great (the Diadochs); children from the
second marriage; after-comers in general; especially after-comers [or successors] of a
great epoch;
literature: the generation of writers who, because of the lack of their own power of
creation, work by following in the spirit of the ideas and forms of their great
predecessors;
figurative meaning: imitators.”338
After we presented the notion of epigonicity in all of its various meanings, before
applying the concepts of epigonicity and epigoni specifically to the Renaissance and
chronology which is connected closely with the classification of periods (and styles) in
date of the end of the Renaissance and the beginning of Mannerism. If we consider the
there are three different dates which are taken to segregate the Renaissance from
338 Vujaklija, Milan, Leksikon stranih reči i izraza (Beograd: Prosveta, 1954), 300, Our Translation.
158
Mannerism. This periodicity, it must be recognised, also deeply influences the position
of the Mannerists, who were often described as continuing the practice of art after the
end of the High Renaissance, working after the death of Raphael, and living still in the
shadow of Michelangelo. In the historical account in the previous sentence two distinct
moments were used. One of the two is simply the date of the death of Raphael – 1520 –
which, for many scholars can be seen as the end of the High Renaissance. The other
historical moment, the end of the High Renaissance, is more difficult to determine
chronologically, and we now shall not attempt to make a contribution in this particular
problem of periodisation. Both of these moments (the end of the High Renaissance,
needless to say, being quite arbitrary), along with the third which we have not yet
mentioned here – the year of the Sack of Rome (1527) – are used often as convenient
temporal demarcations between two epochs – that of the (High) Renaissance and that of
Mannerism (this, of course, refers to historians, in general, as well as those of art and
culture, who recognise the High Renaissance and Mannerism as periods in (art)
history)339. Since a consensus on the date of the end of the Renaissance has not been
reached so far, we need to note here the existence of a transitional period – the years
between 1520 and 1527 – which only a few scholars who have constructed a timetable of
history have addressed (and we shall not mention it here just to acknowledge its
339 Although we usually think of High Renaissance as that brief period of art in which the perfect harmony
of form was reached in the arts, only to be disrupted by Mannerism, different views appear today.
Alexander Nagel for example saw the High Renaissance (and not Mannerism) as the age of anxiety: “In
contrast to the progressivist view, which sees it as a culminating period of harmony and classical perfection,
this view of the period reveals a more anxious art of disjunction, compensation, projection, and desire – and
as a result casts a sharper light on the new forms of artistic and historical self-awareness that mark the
period as a whole. It helps explain why what we call the High Renaissance was such a brief episode and was
so quickly followed by the strange experiments of the art of the 1520s and after. The career of Michelangelo
makes it necessary to see this history as a continuous one.” [Nagel, Alexander Michelangelo and the Reform of
Art (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 19, Emphasis Added.]
159
existence). It is to these seven years in Italy and especially in the history and culture of
Rome that we need to turn. Since almost all scholars addressing the transition from the
High Renaissance to Mannerism believe that it was connected to the development in art
in Rome, we can translate our period into the succession of the Popes who influenced
the two most important artists of the High Renaissance – Raphael and Michelangelo.
Thus our interim period comprises the years of the pontificate of Leo X (1513-21), Adrian
VI (1522-23) and most importantly – Clement VII (1523-34), ending before the Sack of
Rome (1527).
concerning mythology and influencing history, and also related, as we will see, to the
story of the Epigoni, if we are to compare the art of the Renaissance and that of
Mannerism (both of which here, to express our conviction again, we accept as concepts
and as cultural periods). In order to decide whether these seven years are better
inevitably to think about the earlier period chronologically, about the early Renaissance,
and about how it was seen to emerge as a concept and period in contemporary historical
speak of the Renaissance, and if not of its end or such a date, as of the ways it was
Renaissance is another myth from antiquity, namely that of the Golden Age, a
160
In order to access the myth of the Golden Age as it was conceived in Antiquity, and as it
was appropriated later in the Renaissance, we will rely on the account of Harry Levin in
his study The Myth of the Golden Age in the Renaissance. Levin begins by declaring that for
many living afterwards, the Renaissance was the Golden Age. However, very soon,
writes Levin, a shadow marred the mirroring of the Renaissance as the rebirth of
Golden Age:
“[T]he mythical golden age would have been the absolute antithesis of the Renaissance
in several important aspects. The former distrusted elaboration and favored simplicity.
It looked upon art, with considerable suspicion, as an upstart antagonistic to nature.
Most ironic, it had little use for knowledge.”340
According to Levin, the myth of the Golden Age from its earliest origins in antiquity
displaced what was then seen as a past utopia, and merged it with what we call the
traditions of the pastoral. The choice of the attribute golden signifies that of the highest
excellence, a connotation we can trace back to Homer, who, for example characterized
the beauty of Helen as golden, just as in Latin the attribute “aureus comes to be
equivalent of optimus.”341 Levin then explained the further development of the myth:
“[I]t seems to have been Hesiod who linked the age of perfection itself with the golden
metaphor, and plotted the progression of succeeding ages.”342
In Hesiod’s account, the first generation to emerge was a golden race, while Kronos still
reigned in heaven. This race died to become benevolent spirits, and in turn were
succeeded by the silver race, “inconsiderate toward fellow men and neglectful of the
340 Levin, Harry, The Myth of The Golden Age in the Renaissance, (Bloomington, Indiana University Press, 1969),
xvii.
341 Ibid., 12.
342 Ibid.,14.
161
immortals.”343 Zeus replaced the silver generation with the brazen – stronger and
warlike – which destroyed itself. Zeus then created the next generation; it was the
generation of heroes who, by performing great exploits at Troy and Thebes, became
demigods, and who then survived in the far island of the blessed, where Kronos was re-
established as their ruler. We may note here that this might have been the moment in
which the two myths, that of the Epigoni and that of the Golden Age, coincided. Such a
process by which the self-destructive brazen race was followed by the heroic race
seemingly contradicts what Levin called “the larger pattern of degeneration”344 present
in the myth. Ultimately, the pattern of decline continued, as the end of the Greek version
of the myth of the Golden Age introduced the fourth generation that Zeus created, made
The Romans developed and extended the myth further. Virgil for one made significant
alterations, introducing Roman deities, and even switching their roles, turning Kronos
into the allegory of time. According to Virgil, Zeus (Jove) exiled Kronos to Crete. Here the
identification of Kronos with Saturn (the Roman god of planting) was formed. Then,
Virgil writes, the god Saturnus fled to Latium, hiding from the wrath of Jove. It was in
the Fourth Eclogue that Virgil introduces a reversal of the myth, i.e. the idea of the rebirth of
the Golden Age. Accordingly, the iron race will thus drop, and the golden race will
descend from heaven. As Levin informs us, upon this reestablishment of the Golden Age
343 Ibid.
344 Ibid.
345 Ibid., 17, Emphasis Added... Levin here anticipated another re-enactment of the myth of the Golden Age:
“Yet the age perforce will likewise witness acts of heroism; it will have to launch a second Argo and to fight
another Trojan War” [Ibid., 17] which in later history was attempted by Philip II of Spain (Cf. Tanner, Marie,
162
As we demonstrated briefly, the myth of Golden Age became a topos in antiquity, and
drawn-out course of reiteration, the topic was to display a fascinating capacity for
Now it is the appropriate moment to recapitulate these accounts of mythology and see
what parallels between these two myths – the myth of the Epigoni and the myth of the
Golden Age – can be reached. The myth of Epigoni is based on the reiteration or
continuation of a war started by the fathers in Seven Against Thebes347. The succeeding
generation, the Epigoni, continued where their fathers failed, but achieved only partial
success: as a result of their attack, Thebes was almost completely destroyed, and most of
its citizens escaped. The leader of the Epigoni – Adrastus – was the only survivor from
the original Seven, and not related to the original ruling house of Thebes established by
Oedipus348. One of the Epigoni remained to rule over the ruined city, and without
success he asked the Thebans to return to his kingdom. In a way, the victory of the
Epigoni was not complete, or rather, if compared to the earlier achievements of their
heroic fathers, it could have been seen as incomplete and less admirable. The Epigoni
were not as successful as their fathers who, having died a heroic death, set a high
standard for their sons (and we should note here that only one of the Epigoni died in
The Last Descendant of Aeneas: the Hapsburgs and the Mythic Image of the Emperor (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 1993))
one was put on Laius by Apollo, the second two by Oedipus on his sons (who were also his brothers), which
doomed their attempt ever to rule the city. Cf. The Oxford Companion to Classical Literature, ed. Howatson, M.
C. (Oxford: Oxford University Press), 390-391.
163
battle of Thebes), and it was only some time afterwards, during the war against Troy,
that the Epigoni proved themselves finally as true heroes. Perhaps their heroic deeds
there at Troy persuaded Zeus to include the Epigoni in the generation of demigods that
he eventually sent off to an island where Kronos ruled, but this will remain for us a
speculation. Thus the end of this myth remains open and in a way leaves the reader with
The myth of the Golden Age presents a succession of generations or races, the
succeeding one always being less perfect than the previous. In its original Greek version,
it implies that the general course in the development of the God-created races is that of
decline (with the exception of the heroic race to which the Epigoni might have belonged).
In its later Roman version, as in the story of Epigoni, the myth anticipates (and
enunciates) a possibility, if not yet ever achieved, of reversing the process of decline by
It appears that both of the myths rely on the notion of a temporal displacement of the state
that was more perfect – that of heroism (and its consequent failure) in the story of the
Epigoni, and of utopian and pastoral perfection of the golden race (and the decline of
that races that followed from this stage) in the myth of the Golden Age. Additionally,
both myths more or less openly signal the possibility of reparation. In the Epigoni myth,
the outcome of the action of the second generation is known to us as readers, and we
could conclude that such an ending of the story of the Epigoni still appears as
unresolved and perhaps even unfavourable to their heroes, whereas in the myth of the
Golden Age, the Roman authors allowed the outcome to remain open to future historical
164
and mythological interpretation. Hence the reason the term Epigoni, applied, as it was,
connotation, and continued to be used as a pejorative term. On the other hand, it is not
surprising that the myth of the Golden Age, and its possibility of being re-established,
became popular in the Renaissance, and especially in Florence, a city that claimed to be
the origin of the Renaissance, where “allusion to the golden age became its particular
trademark.”349 There was indeed a grain of truth in the Florentine claims to this myth:
“The conception of a Renaissance itself, the metaphor of renascence, was derived from
the evangelical doctrine of rebirth and had its harbingers in Dante and Petrarch. It came
into its own when it was blended with the Vergilian rhetoric of congratulation at the
Medici courts. Vasari seems to have been responsible for introducing it into the
vernacular when he spoke of the revival in the fine arts as a rinascitá.”350
As we have seen here, the members of the house of Medici suggested to the humanists
that they borrow from the Fourth Eclogue in art produced under their patronage. Soon
“When Lorenzo’s second son was elected to the papacy (as Leo X), in Florence
celebrations were given, described in detail by Vasari. The decorations were devised by
Nardi, and executed by Pontormo. The gilded infant died shortly after the
celebration.”351
Vasari described the last chariot in this trionfo (triumphal procession) in Pontormo’s Vita:
“After them came the car of the Golden Age, richly made, with. many figures in relief by
Baccio Bandinelli and beautiful paintings by Pontormo, among which the four cardinal
Virtues were much admired. In the midst of the car was a great globe, upon which lay a
man, as if dead, his arms all rusted, his back open and emerging there from a naked
gilded child, representing the Golden Age revived by the creation of the Pope and the
end of the Iron Age from which it issued. The dried branch putting forth new leaves had
the same signification, although some said that it was an allusion to Lorenzo de’ Medici,
165
Duke of Urbino. The gilt boy, the child of a baker, who had been paid 10 crowns, died
soon after of the effects.”352
About the fact that while celebrating the elevation of Leo X the Medici sought to
represent the Golden Age allegorically in the form of a golden (i.e. just born) child, the
consequences of such an action and the year in which it was performed, we may make
the following points. Firstly, that the careless, tragic, and literal re-enactment of an
allegory of the rebirth of the Golden Age ended in the death of its living representation
whether or not this was a troubling outcome for the patrons. Yet this celebration
occurred in 1513, just more then a decade before the High Renaissance gloomily
anticipated the end of a period – of the Renaissance – which never was what it
pretended to have been. This we know from numerous historical accounts which testify
that the Renaissance hardly could have been called a utopian, peaceful and idyllic
period in history. Thus the myth of the Golden Age remained but a myth, an
aspiration353 or a utopian locus that was never then reached or re-established. Perhaps
the idea of the Renaissance indeed had died in 1513 as had the allegory of the Golden
Age, long before the claims that the Renaissance had restored the idyllic age came to be
questioned.
To this we may add that such re-enactments of pagan mythology, and the significant
artistic and cultural achievements inspired by antiquity, seen as pagan and thus Anti-
Christian especially in Northern Europe, may have fostered the very arguments that led
352Vasari, Giorgio, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. IV, trans. Mrs. Foster,
Jonathan (London: H. G. Bohn, 1885-91), 164.
And if we were to go back to the sources in Antiquity, we may find in the accounts of the work of their
353
dramas the claim to restore an age that only Gods created often led to a punishment, based on the notion of
hubris.
166
to the idea of the Reformation in 1517, opening the path that led eventually to the Sack
of Rome. Thus, the intricate and often joyful spectacles for which the Renaissance was to
be remembered also contained the unseen, yet tragic seeds of their own destruction.
Nevertheless, for those who experienced both the years of the pontificate of Leo and the
Sack of Rome in 1527, the darkness of the later historical period that unravelled
negatively may have brought back to light the glitter of gold of the previous Renaissance,
even if such reflections were to be found on the corpse of the child sacrificed in an
allegorical play.
After the Sack of Rome the idea of rebirth of the Golden Age became a concept that
began to seem less possible or even desirable. One of the reasons for this change being
that the Vatican formulated new positions on art and its references to antiquity. Yet the
“If we trusted the panegyrics of the courtly poets, we should have little doubt that the
golden age had been reborn in the Renaissance. There would be some disagreement
among them, however, as to whether that rebirth had taken place under the Medici or
the Valois or the Tudors or the dynasty of Spain and Austria.”354
In our pursuit of the age of the Epigoni, we turn now to history and to the short yet
important period between the death of Raphael in 1520 and the Sack of Rome in 1527,
that is to the years in which three different Popes ruled the Vatican. After Leo X died in
1521, the Dutch Pope Adrian VI was established briefly from 1522 to 1523, to be
succeeded by Clement VII, previously known as Cardinal Giulio de’ Medici. Since the
pontificate of Adrian VI was brief and focused on negotiating with the Protestants rather
167
than on establishing the cultural programme, we will concentrate on the pontificate of
Clement VII in which again, in a brief retrospect, attention was turned to the artistic and
Because the Sack of Rome occurred while he was pope, Clement’s pontificate is
of his pontificate, between 1523 and 1527, and see how he influenced history, art355 and
culture of the period. What we seek to show here is that the simplistic and purely
negative valuation of the reign of Clement VII can be challenged, and that the Pope in
this period played a considerable role in history and in the development of the arts. It is
clear that at first the immediate reactions to his election were positive. Not only that
Clement’s elevation promised a politically strong and successful papacy, but the Pope
himself was seen by artists and literati as destined to restore the new Golden Age.356
The election of Leo X opened chances for advancement for Giulio de’ Medici, who had
become a Cardinal in 1513. He was in the first group of cardinals to be elected by Pope
who were later to become Popes, were usual in the Renaissance, Giulio de’ Medici was
the first to become a Pope in such a short time after the death of the preceding Pope
355 When investigating this period we do not wish to engage in an interpretation of artistic development
based on the notion of Zeitgeist, although, it must be recognised, for one reason or another, art did change in
this short historical period significantly.
356 See Gouwens, Kenneth, “Clement and Calamity: The Case for Re-evaluation,” The Pontificate of Clement
VII, History, Politics, Culture ed. Gouwens and Reiss, (Aldershot, England; Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2005), 3-
14.
168
from his family.357 Although the funds available to him from the papal treasury were
limited, due to the extensive spending of Pope Leo X, Clement VII still managed to
support artists and literati, who in turn created stylistically distinctive works of art
under his patronage. As André Chastel noted, “there were many new developments in
the Rome of 1525: in the field of painting alone an original style had begun to emerge,
consequence of Clement VII ‘s “program of high culture, a mandate to the art and
Clement VII initiated a “trend within the Clementine circle [that] coincided with a
‘Tuscanization’ of the general style, taste, even the manners of Rome.”360 This
Tuscanization, as Chastel called it, also signalled Clement’s ability to recognise subtle
distinctions in the styles of Roman and Florentine art which by then often intersected, as
artists moved from one city to another, and prints representing what were believed to
have been the main artistic achievements circulated between the artists. According to
Chastel, while the Florentine style was formed after Michelangelo moved to Florence, a
certain classicism still was maintained by the Roman circle headed by Raphael and
Giulio Romano361. Most important for our re-evaluation of Clementine art is Chastel’s
statement on Jacopo Pontormo, who “was the one who took the decisive step, and his
elegant, limpid, finitely subtle style concurred with Michelangelo’s interests: the term
Cf. Stinger, Charles L., “The Place of Clement VII and Clementine Rome in Renaissance History” The
357
Pontificate of Clement VII, History, Politics, Culture ed. Gouwens and Reiss, (Aldershot, England; Burlington,
VT: Ashgate, 2005), 165-184.
358 Chastel, André, The Sack of Rome, (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1983), 3.
359 Ibid., 149.
360 Ibid., 153.
361 Ibid. Here is seems that Chastel juxtaposed Michelangelo’s style to the classicism of the style prevalent in
Rome earlier than 1520, without stating clearly what we would suggest here: that Michelangelo’s style
deviated from what was seen as classical style in Rome at that moment.
169
‘proto-Mannerism’ may not be the worst way to describe it.”362 Finally, Chastel
introduced a new term to describe the style in Roman art between 1523 and 1527:
“The notion of a ‘Clementine’ style is being offered here to account for a certain number
of traits that were common around 1525, and a particular trend that managed to keep
the artists of the time from too slavish an attachment to modi raffaelleschi or too great a
submission to la maniera michelangiolesca.”363
We find Chastel’s claim for a new style – the Clementine style – that lasted for a brief
period (1523-27) significant for a number of reasons. Firstly, it addresses the vexing
artists worked in a plurality of styles. Secondly, in such a transitional style two great
masters of Renaissance and Mannerism are invoked, without arguing for a clear division
between their followers in terms of style. That anticipation of the Mannerist style can be
found in the works of Raphael as well as in those of Michelangelo need not be argued
here; what is important though is that neither artist gave birth to a generation of
imitators of their art in the transitional period, i.e. before the Sack of Rome. Instead, a
new Clementine style emerged, a style that announced Mannerism, and yet did not
Most importantly, the main artist of the Clementine style was said to have been Jacopo
Pontormo and, indeed, when we now look at his works from the Clementine period we
perhaps may recognise him as an eminent painter, admired in the transitional period
170
before the Sack of Rome, as well as a true innovator and a figure nearly as important, we
want to stress again how important for us is Chastel’s invocation of the Clementine style.
This new stylistic period will be very useful for us, because it avoids the simplified
segmentation of the temporal flux into value-laden divisions of early (good), high (best)
and late (decadent or even degenerate) style. Thus it resolves many difficulties about the
Mannerism.
That the cultural programme Clement VII implemented had a powerful character is
suggested in the following statement about the general condition of cultural life in Rome.
According to Charles Stinger, in Clementine Rome, there was in the ideology of the
curial humanists what he calls “a certain cultural myopia,”364 before and even after the
Sack. For better or for worse, this notion, based in different mythological interpretations,
did not allow the citizens of Rome to enter the arena of ‘real history’ in the sense that
Roma Aeterna, which meant that Rome myopically veiled itself in a semi-mythological
supernal vision. This can be seen in Christoforo Marcello’s Christiad, an epic poem
written between 1518 and 1532, during the turmoil of the Reformation and the Sack of
Rome. Here Rome was represented both as a New Jerusalem and the caput mundi.
Stinger, Charles L., “The Place of Clement VII and Clementine Rome in Renaissance History,” The
364
Pontificate of Clement VII, History, Politics, Culture ed. Gouwens and Reiss, (Aldershot, England; Burlington,
VT: Ashgate, 2005), 176.
171
According to the Christiad, Rome ascended to a level that cannot be attained by profane
but rather by sacred history, since Rome’s “mission is not just to the earthly world but
rather to the surpassing and ultimate goal of leading humanity to its heavenly destiny,
the realization of which will bring history to its end.”365 This literary source of the period
allows us to understand the specificity of the position that under Leo X and Clement VII
Rome assumed within sacred and profane history, that of the city where time would
come to an end and the new age, in this case – that of the New Jerusalem, would begin.
Such beliefs and speculations about Rome’s chosen status may have been derived in part
from earlier Hermetic speculations fostered by Pope Leo X – speculations which were
accumulated syncretically from disparate sources in antiquity, the Cabala, and the
Rome’s self-representation, we will refer to a poem by Zaccaria Ferreri which used as its
main fabric the dream-visions of Pope Leo X. Thus, Rome was “envisioned as being
transplanted to the sphere of Jupiter, where the popes, Jove-like in their authority,
formed the font of just law for all humanity.”366 Such poetic works did not remain the
only field in which references to antiquity were exercised, since in their writings the
humanist-courtiers gathered around the Pope discussed more serous profane issues,
such as whether the Pope could be identified with Caesar. Such speculations and the
cultural programme of Leo X in general were not received in the same way in Rome and
outside of Italy. It seems now as if the narratives created by the literati in Rome
365 Ibid., 178, Emphasis Added. This notion is closely associated with eschatological speculations of the
moment.
366 Ibid., 179.
172
constituted an image of the city and of the Papacy itself367 that was almost deliberately
antithetical to that constructed in the Protestant North, where Rome was seen as a city of
debauchery, avarice, nepotism and eventually – as the seat of Antichrist, who was
Such were some of the cultural and historical narratives that Clement VII inherited
when he ascended the throne of St. Peter. Perhaps he would have nourished these
further had the Sack not happened. Though we cannot stress enough the impact of such
a devastating and terrifying event on Italy as well as on the other Catholic and
Protestant countries, we will not address the Sack of Rome here since Chastel has
Though often seen as weak and unskilled in politics even after the Sack, Clement VII
seemed to have learned some lessons while he was imprisoned at that moment in Castel
San’ Angelo. He came to recognise that it was Emperor Charles V who had the power to
help him re-establish himself as Pope, and not less importantly to help his cousins in
Florence to suppress the newly established Florentine Republic. The rise of the republic
in the years of 1527-1530 meant a double loss for Clement, since the Florentines did not
recognise either his family as their rulers or him as a Pope. Thus, with great caution and
367Another useful example of such speculation we will include here: “This stress on the exemplary is
apparent also in the repeated image of Rome as speculum (mirror). When, for instance, Paris de’ Grassus,
papal Master of Ceremonies under Julius II and Leo X, describes the quadrangular seating pattern for the
pope and the College of the cardinals meeting in Consistory or in the papal chapel, he claims that it forms
the earthly reflection of the throne of God and the 24 elders, the setting for heavenly liturgies described in
the Book of Revelation.” [Stinger, Op. Cit., 178]
173
care, Clement VII negotiated, and formed an alliance with the Emperor Charles V, who
in turn helped him regain control of the Papal States. With the intervention of Imperial
troops, the Florentine republic came to its end. This secured the return of the Medicis to
Florence in 1531, and allowed them to establish themselves there as a ducal dynasty. It
may be of importance here that Clement VII was compared with Constantine when
territories that once were given to Pope Sylvester by Constantine. Such a claim is
reflected in the imagery in the Sala di Constantino which was started under Pope Leo X
and finished during the papacy of Pope Clement VII. Finally, Clement VII also was
aware of the rivalry between France and Spain, and even though he used the Emperor’s
troops to conquer Florence, in 1533 he secured the marriage of Catherine de’ Medici to
the future King of France, which was a very successful diplomatic decision. In spite of
all of his attempts to secure the position of the Vatican and the Medicis after the Sack of
Rome, Clement VII in history has been portrayed as an unsuccessful successor to Pope
Since we have already given an historical account of Florence368 when we described the
life and opus of Bronzino, we will now turn from history to art history and continue our
analysis of the notion of epigonicità, or more specifically, our attempt to determine when,
how, and why it may have been established (if not termed as such) in discourse on the
arts. We have demonstrated earlier here that the whole age of Mannerism could be seen
as an age of the epigoni, of those who came after the great men of the Renaissance who
368
Supra, 25‐29, 129.
174
had raised the arts and culture in Italy to such a high level369 that these successors had a
difficult task to maintain the conditions they inherited or to better the state of art already
established in the previous age. We must however make a distinction here between a
notion that is closely related to epigonicity, but that cannot be equated with it
completely – the notion of rise and decline, explained earlier in this dissertation. Indeed,
it may appear that these two ideas can be equated, and hence we now will define the
difference that we find central for our further speculation. The notion of rise and decline
as a topos in rhetoric, in the development in the arts and in history relates usually to a
whole period or style, and does not imply an attempt of the late-coming artists to restore
or continue the tradition they had inherited from their masters. The notion of epigonicity,
on the other hand, depends on an idea of continuity, that which the ‘sons’ of the ‘father-
and quality in art, and by finishing what was left undone, always having in mind the
greatest achievements of their predecessors. The epigoni often can be successful and
even good artists (and we should remember here what Kugler wrote on artist late-
comers370), but they never can avoid remaining in the shadow of the achievements of
their predecessors, their main failure (which indeed came from the historical and
more generous to the epigoni, we could claim that they had the chance to repeat, and
even improve the artistic practices that they inherited (though here the problem of
imitation would emerge), yet they remained haunted by the earlier works that they
369
Supra, 123.
370 Supra, footnote 82.
175
looked upon as their canon, which by their very position were destined to limit their
After these numerous shifts between mythology, certain notions from antiquity, and
from the Renaissance, mixed, as they are here, with historical circumstances, we can
now be less abstract, as we unveil the future trajectory of our argument in this chapter.
We will begin with looking at the artists active between 1520 and 1600. They did not
recognise that they were either Mannerists or epigoni (since both of these terms were
applied to them only later) and they believed (as we saw in Vasari) that they lived in the
age of the Renaissance. Thus they had as a point of reference the most successful artists
of the earlier period, most of them dead by then, yet Michelangelo, very importantly,
still alive. And soon these artists (who we now may call Mannerists) had at their
disposal something that the artists of the previous period did not have: a document of
great relevance and seriousness in its intention, which opened up a new way of
communicating about art, and in such a way that contested individual speculations and
stories that were passed verbally between the artists themselves. Moreover, amongst
many levels of narration, this text was focused on biographies of those famous and
excellent men who had preceded them, of the best architects, sculptors and painters,
of their works. Most importantly, this book was written by one of the artists of this very
The problem of commenting then on contemporary art was perhaps as troublesome and
acute as it is today. A courtier, a painter, an architect, a writer, and a person who can be
176
seen as possessing a significant level of diplomatic reasoning, Vasari may have sensed
the difficulties in writing about living artists, and he evaded this somehow dangerous
path in the 1550 edition of Le Vite. Such a decision resulted in a book which read as the
genealogy of the generations that came before Vasari (as well as the description of three
ages, or eta, in which they had created). Needless to say here, drawing the stylistic line
between the Renaissance and Mannerism did not appear in his model of the
development of the arts. However, there was one exception to the post mortem veil that
concealed the lives of artists of whom he wrote – the 1550 edition of Le Vite included the
Michelangelo and of the actions he took in order to interfere with his biographies (and
Such an interaction, dominated by the great Michelangelo, resulted in a few texts, and
we may imagine, also in numerous private and public conversations that those caused,
establishing Michelangelo as the best amongst the most excellent artists of the past and
of the then present, living or dead. Most importantly for us, such a position that
Michelangelo assumed with Vasari’s help rendered his opus transcendent for the
Mannerists, who, by virtue of comparison of their work to it, were doomed to be seen as
epigoni.
rather, biographies of Michelangelo, we will rely here on accounts by Michael Hirst and
Lisa Pon who have both written seriously on the complicated and controversial
177
relationship between Michelangelo and Vasari. The facts with which the two scholars
Michelangelo since 1542-43 and in those years Michelangelo encouraged him to pursue
his career as an architect. Yet, so he says, this was a story fabricated by Vasari who in
fact first met Michelangelo only in 1547. Michelangelo was then in Rome, despite all of
the attempts Cosimo I had made in the 1540s to persuade Michelangelo to come back to
Florence371. If his emissaries failed, then Vasari was more successful in a way in bringing
Michelangelo back to Florence, at least in the form of the biography which was the
culmination of his first edition of Le Vite published in March 1550, the very same month
“A biography of a living artist was a new thing, and with this book Michelangelo
received a tribute that was, as Johannes Wilde puts it, ‘a birthday present like of which
was never given to any other artist.’”372
Yet it seems that Michelangelo was not entirely satisfied with what Vasari wrote about
him, as many facts of his life were not included or wrongly dated. Hirst mentioned
Michelangelo’s flight from Rome to coincide with his painting of the Sistine ceiling, thus
371 These attempts of Cosimo resulted in Michelangelo’s reply to the Duke in a form of a letter, in which he
justified his absence from Florence by his engagement with constructions on St. Peters, which, if stopped
due to his absence, would have been the greatest sin.
372 Pon, Lisa, “Michelangelo’s Lives: Sixteen-Century Books by Vasari, Condivi, and Others,” Sixteenth
Century Journal, Vol. 27, No. 4 (Winter, 1996), 1017. To be completely accurate in our claims, we need to refer
here to Pon again: in footnote 11 on page 1017 we find that Vasari did include yet another living artist in his
1550 edition, Benedetto da Rovezzano, who, being blind, was dead for the art and alive for the life, to
paraphrase Vasari. This is an interesting antipode to characterisation of Michelangelo, the artist who Vasari
saw as sent by God himself to rescues the arts.
178
totally obscuring the “prelude to the tragedy of the papal tomb.”373 Further, Vasari also
wrote that Michelangelo returned to Florence after the siege ended in 1530, whereas we
know that he was in the city then and that Clement VII personally forgave Michelangelo
With all these errors in Vasari, Michelangelo in what is usually seen as an attempt to
correct him, instructed Ascanio Condivi374 to write and publish his own version of the
Vasari’s accounts was mentioned, though without Vasari being named in Condivi, who
explained in the following way the reason for writing a new biography of Michelangelo:
“’[B]ecause certain persons who wrote about this great man without knowing him as
intimately as I do, partly related events that had never occurred and partly omitted such
as would be very much worthwhile noting.’”375
What is important here is that if indeed it was Michelangelo himself who was correcting
Vasari, then we can see how concerned he was with the way he was represented, and
with the accuracy of the stories that were written about him. Although he was highly
praised by Vasari even in 1550 edition, Michelangelo decided to create another textual
account of his life, indicating how well aware he was by then of his special status, as an
artist important not only because of his work, but also because of what was seen as his
divine nature. Here we can turn to Condivi’s biography, for there, in the unpaginated
Hirst, Michael, “Michelangelo and his First Biographers” in Proceedings of the British Academy, (London:
373
Published for the British Academy by the Oxford University Press, 1994), 69.
374 Hirst suggested, judging by the style of Michelangelo’s Life, that it was probably written by Annibale
Caro, and not by Condivi. Ibid., 71.
375 Pon, Op. Cit., 1020.
179
Preface, he equated Michelangelo’s words to the metaphysical pronouncements of the
Ancient Prophets, since he claimed that “he [Condivi] had collected his material for the
biography ‘with deftness and with long patience from the living oracle himself’.’”376
Hence by 1553 there were two biographies of the then living Michelangelo, a fact that
may shed a new light on his behaviour that was often described as arrogant and
nonchalant. For the very artist who occasionally quarrelled with Popes, Princes, and
Cardinals alike, was also made to appear as more organised and rational: the fact that he
took such an effort in the course of his ever-overbearing devotion to art to dispute minor
facts from a biography that put him at the pinnacle of the Italian art of the period may
show him as a more calculated and self-aware character, even if his particular
sprezzatura would not have allowed him to lower himself by criticising Vasari openly.
As another actor in this stylised and perplexing play we can see Vasari, who between
1550 and 1568 made numerous advances to Michelangelo, (and we may recall here even
from anecdotes told by Vasari himself that Michelangelo was seldom nice to him even if
Vasari remained his faithful admirer even after his death), and out of this
as the most important artist of the time remained unchanged, if not even bettered by
Vasari’s praises of his more recent works. Michelangelo died before this revised edition
living artists, by virtue of compiling their biographies into a single chapter on the
376Ibid., 1020, Emphasis Added. The cited segment of Condivi’s sentence in Italian is: “con destrezza e con
lunga pazienza dal vivo oraculo suo.”
180
Florentine Academicians (beginning with Bronzino), secured still a special, prominent
and individual place for the life of Michelangelo, incorporating not only Condivi’s
biography, but all the stories he acquired from conversation with Michelangelo, his
In his forthcoming book about Vasari David Cast analysed Vasari’s comments on
unlike many others, was able to approach difficult issues such as style and imitation:
“Out of many styles, as Vasari noted, he was able to form a single style that was his and
which will always be considered his own and was most highly esteemed by artists. As
ever in this, as in everything, the great example was Michelangelo who understood
imitation completely and also, it was recognised, its limits. For as Vasari put it, he was able
to remember all he had ever seen and all he had ever done and this enabled him … to be
careful never to repeat anything he had done before; and if he used the work of others,
he did so in ways almost no one noted. Before him, as Michelangelo himself so willingly
acknowledged, there were the models of the works of Donatello and Ghiberti and all the
examples of art from antiquity that Vasari could mention as having influenced the artists
of the second age, the Laocoon, the Hercules and so on.”377
However, imitation was not often understood properly by Michelangelo’s fellow artists:
“Thus, as he said, alluding perhaps to Bandinelli and the use he made of the Laocoon, he
who follows others never passes ahead of them, and he who is not able to do well by himself
cannot use the works of others well. Thus also the danger of another unnamed artist, as
Michelangelo is also recorded saying, for in copying too many others, he took so much
in his work from other pictures, that when it come to judgment day there would be
nothing left, all the bodies having taken back their limbs.”378
Here Michelangelo made a very glum prediction of other artists who worked after his
own models, and in an uncanny manner referred to his own work that caused him so
many troubles, to the Last Judgement. Michelangelo of course knew that he was copied
377 Cast, David, Delight and Forthcoming work on Giorgio Vasari, 223, Emphasis Added.
378 Ibid., 224.
181
by then, and Vasari recognised that the cartoon of the battle of Cascina was “studied so
Michelangelo was said never to have underestimated nature as the source for imitation,
and then retroactively criticised many artists who, by following his style, made art that
was stupid (or, as we may put it, were doomed to become his epigoni):
“And this Michelangelo could say for reasons he knew well from the experience of his
own art, which had been copied so much, and, as he put it, made stupid, the word
stupid here, as Armenini recorded this remark, being one Vasari had so often used to
criticise the art of the ages before Cimabue and Giotto. This style of mine, an even later
source cites Michelangelo as saying, will make many into clumsy artists.”380
We can finish the story of Michelangelo’s life acknowledging the success of his own
efforts and those of Vasari, which found its expressions in the stories that surrounded
his death and burial. Immediately after his death in Rome on 18th February 1564,
Michelangelo’s remains were taken back to Florence and according to Pon “his death
and the events just after it were shaped into a narrative of an almost hagiographic nature
being dead for twenty-two days, was described in some of these accounts as not decayed,
as of the same appearance, without any smell, “’resting in sweet and most quiet
slumber.’”382 This description, and the way the body was removed from Rome strongly
indicate a certain attempt of the canonisation of the great artist. He was buried with
great honours, and a funeral booklet was published on the occasion of his funeral
(Esequie del divino Michelangelo), a highly unusual endeavour, reserved then only for
379 Ibid.
380 Ibid., 224.
381 Pon, Op. Cit., 1021, Emphasis Added.
382 Ibid., 1021.
182
Emperors. In addition, Vasari decided to produce what may have been a first offprint in
the history of printing and to publish a booklet La Vita del gran Michelangelo, a reprint of
the segment which addressed Michelangelo’s Life, done in such a hasty manner that
Vasari did not even change the page numeration in this newly published book. Yet,
Vasari was still firm in his intention to champion Michelangelo and thus present him as
a supreme being, different from the artists of the past as well as those of the present by
virtue of his superiority. It was in the 1568 version as well as in its offprint that Vasari
wrote his second biography of the most revered artist of his day. Vasari remained
the criticism influenced by the Council of Trent seriously attacked some of his works,
one of the more troublesome being the Last Judgement (1535-41, Sistine Chapel, Vatican).
“Vasari comments in 1568, though not in 1550, the he will not discuss the composition of
Michelangelo’s Last Judgment at length ‘because it has been copied and printed so often,
both in large and small format, that it doesn’t seem necessary to lose time in describing
it.’”383
We will now turn to the position of Michelangelo which changed in the course of his
long life, in order to represent the contemporary comments and opinions on his works
that often differed from those in Vasari. We have decided to include comments on his
later works here so as to question what was to Vasari his impeccable judgement at the
time when the new Mannerist style appeared. This we found to be a necessary
evaluation that may finally reveal to us whether Michelangelo was seen as an arbiter of
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art universally and if such a position would have produce a whole generation of epigoni
who followed the artistic models and paths he had created for them. As an example we
will concentrate on a work that suffered the most from criticism – the Last Judgement,
and yet became for the Mannerist artists a major source of inspiration, even borrowing,
and perhaps because of that, the implicit reason of the condemnation of their works
Michelangelo began the Last Judgement on the altar wall of the Sistine Chapel in 1533.
The first subject was that of the Resurrection and it was only in 1535 that it was noted as
the Last Judgment, and, as such, unveiled officially in 1541. This monumental fresco was
one of the last major pictorial works that Michelangelo executed384. It was and still is one
of those works that constantly initiate contrasting opinions and discussions. Yet in order
to approach and to comment such a work, one needs to be very careful when using
accounts of it that emerged in history, as some of them (as Leo Steinberg demonstrated
using the example of an image in the fresco which was incorrectly identified and then
repeated through history385) became false topoi which we use inadvertently when
Vasari’s opinion was a contrast to that of other writers of the period. He praised in the
Last Judgment the depiction of the human forms in different and difficult well-
384 After the Last Judgement, Michelangelo executed only one pictorial work – the fresco decoration of the
Pauline Chapel. There between 1542 and 1550 he painted two frescoes – The Conversion of St. Paul and The
Crucifixion of St. Peter. These last works of Michelangelo remain troublesome in terms of their style, and
more interestingly, these images did not cause too many art historians to write on them. Cf. Steinberg, Leo,
Michelangelo's Last Paintings: The Conversion of St. Paul and the Crucifixion of St. Peter in the Cappella Paolina,
Vatican Palace (New York: Oxford University Press, 1975).
385 Steinberg, Leo, “A Corner of the Last Judgment,” Daedalus 109, (1980), 207-273.
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proportioned attitudes, as well as the expression of the emotions. According to Vasari,
Michelangelo represented “the human form, in the absolute perfection of its proportions,
and the greatest possible variety of attitudes, with the passions, emotions, and
affectations of the soul, expressed with equal force and truth: it was sufficient to him to
treat that branch of art wherein he was superior to all, and to lay open to others the
grandeur of manner that might be attained in the nude form, by the display of what he
could himself effect in the difficulties of design, thus facilitating the practice of art in its
principal object, which is the human form.”386 This was not however the first time in his
biography that Vasari claimed that Michelangelo created a work that was to become a
source for artists in the future, for he had said the same of the Cartoon of the Battle of
Cascina. We will include here one example, in which Vasari comments on artists who
imitated the style of Michelangelo. Not all imitators of Michelangelo’s architectural style
of the Medici Tomb necessarily succeeded in creating good art: some of them committed
“an injudicious imitation”387 that led them to creating images which according to Vasari
even if some of the artists might have been misled by Michelangelo, artists in general
“Artists are nevertheless under great obligations to Michelangelo, seeing that he has
thus broken the barriers and chains whereby they were perpetually compelled to walk in a
beaten path….”389
386 Vasari, Giorgio, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects, vol. IV, trans. Mrs. Foster,
Jonathan (London: H. G. Bohn, 1885-91), 285-86, Emphasis Added.
387 Ibid, 272.
388 Ibid.
389 Ibid.
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In a similar manner Vasari commented on the repertoire Michelangelo created in his Last
Judgement:
“…but Michelangelo, taking firm ground on the most recondite principles of art, has
made manifest to all who know enough to profit by his teaching, the means by which
they may attain perfection.”390
Thus, in Vasari’s terms, Michelangelo created a canon of the human nude from which
other artists could only profit by looking, and perhaps by copying. In Vasari’s accounts,
something which was never seen or felt before, and in this particular fresco Michelangelo is
praised not only for having surpassed the other painters who decorated the Sistine
“…Michelangelo was found to have surpassed not only the early masters who had
painted in that Chapel, but himself also, having resolved, as respected the ceiling which
had rendered him so celebrated, to be his own conqueror; here, therefore, he had by
very far exceeded that work, having imagined to himself all the terrors of the last day
with the most vivid force of reality.”391
However, the reactions to the Last Judgement that came from other viewers, courtiers,
humanists, and members of the clergy were not as positive as Vasari’s claims. There was
ambiguity even in the first recorded reaction to the Last Judgment, in the letter of 1541
by Nino Sernini, an agent of the Gonzaga which reads: “’The work is of such beauty that
your Excellency can imagine that there is no lack of those who condemn it.’”392 Many
later commentators were viewing the Last Judgment from a position of the new doctrines
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of the Counter-Reformation. In order to approach these reactions we will rely here on
the detailed study by Bernardine Barnes called Michelangelo's Last Judgment: The
fresco, Barnes at the very beginning introduced her framework for viewing it – she saw
the Last Judgment as displaying certain “deliberate attempts to make a simple statement
much more complex.”393 And we need to remember here that the very location of the
fresco in the Chapel reserved for liturgy performed solely by the Pope and the Cardinals
made it less accessible than many other public works in Rome. We may surmise that
Michelangelo was well aware of these circumstances (which were also true for the
Sistine ceiling): owing to its unique and privileged position in the Vatican, the Last
Judgement would be seen by a different audience than any other pictorial works executed
in the many churches and chapels of Rome, and perhaps even that this incomparable
position that the Last Judgement acquired from its location and historical as well as
liturgical significance may have allowed him certain licence. Michelangelo may have
thought that all of these factors would influence the elite audience to see his Last
Judgement with a different and, if we may say – specialised mode of vision, that which
can be obtained only under that special illumination of the Sistine Chapel itself, which
reunited the diffracted metaphysical lights emanating from the images of the sacred
history with those of gleaming torches and candles used during daily services
performed by the highest members of the clergy. Barnes also agreed on this issue, and
claimed that Michelangelo applied the well known representational scheme of the Last
393 Barnes, Bernadine, Michelangelo's Last Judgment: The Renaissance Response (Berkeley, Calif.: University of
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According to the traditional depiction of the Last Judgment the intercessors Mary and
John the Baptist flank the image of Christ. Also common was that this group was then
positions of the Saints are changed: instead of St John, we see St Peter; St John is
represented opposite from St Peter. The Apostles are not represented at all, and we may
guess that it was because “the cardinal bishops … were considered the successors of the
apostles.”394 Michelangelo was not following the usual representational canon when
Some of the peculiarities in the Last Judgement can be seen as Michelangelo’s reaction to
the Sack of Rome for Pope Clement VII would have approved of the inclusion of St
Michael, who saved him, so he believed, during the Sack of Rome395. The inclusion of St
Lawrence again would not be troublesome for Clement VII, since he was the Medici
patron-saint, and Barnes indeed concluded that the inclusion of some saints in the Last
Judgement may have echoed the recent history of Rome and the Papacy; and indeed
some Saints were depicted because many relics associated with them (such as the head
When describing the fresco Barnes made a use of the term “the Clementine style”:
“Clement actively supported Florentine artists like Benvenuto Cellini and Rosso
Fiorentino, and their presence in Rome helped form a style that combined the classicism
of Raphael’s school with the more imaginative mannerism of the Florentine.”396
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According to Barnes, the Clementine style survived the Sack of Rome, which, as an
event in history however imposed on it a certain sobriety. Barnes also claimed that if it
was probably Pope Clement VII who allowed certain peculiarities in the Last Judgement,
the fresco was to be finished under a Pope who had quite a different taste:
“In the visual arts he [Paul III] preferred works that were classically inspired and
elegant but cool and unemotional. To see the Last Judgement as a reflection of his tastes
is to see it as a work of highly wrought artifice – a mannerist work. Despite efforts to
resuscitate the reputation of mannerism, there is still great reluctance to associate
Michelangelo’s art with that style.”397
The first troubling comments came from Piero Aretino. The citation of Aretino’s
description that can be found in Barnes includes allegories not found in Michelangelo’s
fresco, such as “Nature terrified, sterile, crouching in her decrepit old age;… Time
withered and trembling, for his end has come... Life and Death both oppressed by the
terrifying conclusion….”398
“’For in your hands there lives hidden the idea of a new nature, so that the difficulty of
outlines – the highest science in the subtlety of painting – is so easy for you that you
bound within the outlines of the bodies the end of art, a thing which art itself confesses
to be impossible to bring to perfection, because the outline (as you know) should
surround itself in such a way that, in showing what it does not show, it can suggest the
things that the figures of the Sistine Chapel suggest to those who know how to judge
them rather than merely gape at them.’”399
The accounts of the Last Judgement that followed Aretino’s are to be found in Lodovico
Dolce’s L’Aretino published in 1557 (not surprisingly, Dolce was a member of Aretino’s
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circle in Venice) and in Giovanni Andrea Gilio’s Degli errori de’ pitorri published in 1564.
In Gilio’s account, Michelangelo did not make the sacred figures devout, but instead
“’they have made them strained, it seeming to them a great accomplishment to twist the
head, the arms, the legs, so that it seems they represent acrobats and actors rather than
those who stand in contemplation.’”400 Hence these figures are immodest, and like those
that should be painted in taverns and bathhouses. The criticism ends with a cynical
remark that the poses of the figures must have been amusing “to all but the
connoisseurs.”401
However, Dolce did not think that the style of the Last Judgement is not good, but that it
is “too unvarying, too unclear, and too extreme.”402 Thus the condemnation of the fresco
was never declared without a commentary that would praise some of the many of
“Dolce’s interlocutor, Fabrini… says that Michelangelo is like Dante because his work is
full of significance, and a little later he says that Michelangelo’s invention in the Last
Judgment is far superior to Raphael’s because it contains ‘profoundly allegorical
meanings understood by few.’”403
Even Gilio, who was seen as Michelangelo’s most rigid critic, saw a positive aspect in
the Last Judgement – he claimed that Michelangelo in his second fresco at the Sistine
“‘Michelangelo, like one who has a lively ingegno, is always intent on returning art to
the proper images of the famous painters and sculptors of antiquity, so he has
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discovered a new manner, which being pleasing, has been accepted and put into use,
both in pure istorie, and in poetic and mixed paintings.... Now a painter can use
metaphor and metonymy charmingly and many other figures as well, provided that he
knows how to order them well.’”404
that “’it is the duty of the painter to represent things naturally as they are shown to
mortal eyes, he must not go beyond his limits, but rather leave to the theologians and
the holy doctors the expansion of them to other higher or more hidden meanings.’”405 In
a way, Paleotti summarised in his judgement the critiques of his predecessors. And here
“Like the earlier critics, Paleotti acknowledges that certain high religious themes require
special treatment to preserve their majesty; like Dolce he cites the ancient idea that
allegory serves this function, assuring that great mysteries are not exposed to the
unworthy; like Gilio he would like to remove the invention of the subject matter from
the hands of the artists and place it in the hands of Church authorities; and, like Aretino
and many others he finally attributes the obscurity to the pridefulness of the artist,
rather than to any higher motivation.”406
As much as the comments of different critics of the period may appear today as
balanced, the final valuation that grew out of more or less important individual accounts
of the Last Judgement was not a positive one. Michelangelo’s fresco was seen as an
exemplar of bad art, and according to Leo Steinberg the Last Judgment became “the only
work of art to which special reference was made in the final instructions issued by the Council of
405 Ibid., 99
406 Ibid.
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Trent: it was decreed that the fresco’s offending portions, the so-called nudities, be
painted over....”407
And here we come to a somewhat curious conclusion about Michelangelo and his role as
a father to the artists who came after him: what was supposed to become his opus
magnum turned into a troublesome, and quite soon – harshly criticised image that came
to be the only picture that was officially mentioned and condemned in the Acts of the
Council of Trent. Yet, this very fresco was studied by many Mannerists; moreover,
copies and renderings of it appeared in churches in Italy long after its condemnation,
arts, as well as after summarising the reactions of critics from the period who obviously
disagreed with Vasari in his judgement of Michelangelo’s work that was said to have
influenced Mannerists the most (that is, of his Last Judgement), we will turn to perhaps
the most difficult question when considering Michelangelo’s art: namely, to the question
of its style. This is the last necessary step in our analysis of the notion of epigonicità, and
we need to explain here why such a stylistic examination is needed. We are well aware
that a simple answer to the question we posed here may not be possible to produce and
maintain. For one, many scholars before us have dealt with the issue of Michelangelo’s
style or styles, more or less successfully dividing Michelangelo opus and assigning
certain groups of his works to the given stylistic categories of Renaissance, High
407 Steinberg, Leo, “A Corner of the Last Judgment,” Daedalus 109 (1980), 208, Emphasis Added.
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Renaissance and Mannerism. When analysing these accounts it can be noted that very
art historians saw the opus of Michelangelo as transcending the limitations imposed by
that which was incomprehensible in his own times and often not even intelligible today.
In such account, for example, the late statues of Michelangelo were seen as an expression
of his return to spiritual realms of mediaeval art, his earlier David (1500-05, Galleria dell’
Academia, Florence) was interpreted as an anticipation of Baroque art, and so forth. Our
task here is not to present a historiography of all these various stylistic accounts, since
we have decided to take a critical and methodological position different from those
described earlier. The question of epigonicità that Michelangelo’s work created becomes
even more complex if we take into account that he continued to work after the 1520s,
that is after the High Renaissance on most accounts ended. We then may see him from
the 1520s to 1564 acting as a living father for those artists who then and even today
If Michelangelo had many epigoni, then Michelangelo’s works were the preferred source
for further stylistic development. Thus we may need to seek in his work those qualities
which made him the most admirable (and for some art historians simply the best) artist
in the period of the High Renaissance (and perhaps of Mannerism). This is an issue we
have discussed earlier in this chapter yet only en passant: we saw that Michelangelo
acquired his high status amongst fellow artists thanks to his artistic endeavours, perhaps
from his character, or from Vasari, and, of course, from his longevity.
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The second part of our problem here is more difficult: if Michelangelo’s opus was
indeed a pinnacle of the development of (High) Renaissance art, though it was partially
produced, as it were, after the Renaissance ended as a stylistic period, then within it,
even if we decide not to call later works of his Mannerist, there existed certain qualities
that attracted the following generation of the Mannerists, and that made them look into
flowers that contained the pollen they particularly liked to collect and emulate, while
producing their new art. In other words, there were the formal or stylistic qualities in
Michelangelo’s work that accommodated desires and projections of the Mannerists for
what their art should have been. Those qualities, as well as the character of
Michelangelo as a person himself, made him if not the ideal, then at least the ever-
present father to the after-comers, with repercussions that affected his position and
What the previous paragraph brought to our attention was another issue that was
considered often ever since Mannerism entered the art-historical discourse, the issue of
many recent accounts Mannerism was interpreted as a style that reacted against what
was seen as the classicism of the High Renaissance, as when Friedlaender early in the
some authors approaching differently, argued that Mannerism was a style that could
accommodate both the reaction against and assimilation of classical art, classical art
We discussed major interpretations of Mannerism earlier in this dissertation, yet we thought it may be
408
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already having had occurred in the Renaissance. This is one of the most important issues
for considering Bronzino’s opus as well, which most often was seen as belonging to the
Hugh Smyth called the ‘classicizing’ elements of Mannerism which emerged in Florence.
Hence, for example, if we are to question whether in such late a painting as the
the final and the most specific purpose of this chapter, directly connected to the general
issue of epigonicity that may have existed in Bronzino’s work when compared to
opus and detect the classical and mannerist elements in his works or in their style.409 Such
a general account on the existence of one or more styles within the High Renaissance
Cornelius Vermeule’s account of European art and the Classical past. Perhaps at first to
our readers the attention with which we have decided to discuss Vermeule’s speculation
may appear as arbitrary, since we might have chosen another account, which would
cover similar topics, or another more recent author who would grant our speculation a
more considerable support. Yet it is not for the accuracy of the claims that Vermeule
presented that we turned to him. We chose his narrative which establishes a connexion
between the classical art of Greco-Roman past and later European art (for us most
importantly – with the Renaissance and the different styles he detected in it), because of
the particular and, to our knowledge, unique way of representing these connexions,
which resulted in opening yet another level to the phenomenon we have as our main
409We will not concern ourselves here with Bronzino’s style in the same respect, since the analysis of his
work in these terms we have already presented. Earlier we also demonstrated that within Bronzino’s opus
several styles can be detected, all of them possessing stylistic references to both Mannerism and Renaissance.
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issue here – the notion of epigonicity. Thus we did not use Vermeule as a source earlier
when discussing Bronzino’s styles, because we found it more appropriate for this
chapter, due to the author’s acknowledgement of the role that Michelangelo played in
both the High Renaissance and Mannerism. In the subchapter “The Age of Raphael and
Michelangelo,”410 which even in its title suggests the notion of epigonicity of the
following artists regarding these two great artists, Vermeule ascribed to the High
Renaissance in the following way the quality of an integration of the Antique models:
“Yet, unlike other periods, the High Renaissance and its integration of ancient models
could not be explained by the rediscovery of certain antiques, the doctrines of a single
historian, or the sudden advent of new political forms. It produced and it was a part of a
new synthesis of form and content, based on classical ideals; it could absorb antiquity into
itself without the conflicts of excerpting and of medieval mannerisms, or the problem of
limited access to antiquities.”411
development,412 which Vermeule used here to present the High Renaissance as a new
synthesis of form and content, which by this account became a new thesis on the higher
level of dialectical development. If this indeed is the case, it is not difficult to surmise
which form and content disintegrate. Yet more importantly for us, Vermeule claimed
here that not one, but a variety of styles, was distinguishable and available even in the
High Renaissance (and importantly – not in the previous decades of the Renaissance),
and that such a diversity was paralleled by the absence of any direct references to the
Antiquity:
410 Vermeule, Cornelius, European Art and the Classical Past (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1964).
411 Ibid., 60, Emphasis Added.
412 Used by Treves too, as we have noted.
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“The homogeneity of styles and the preciseness of perspective and balance in High
Renaissance compositions, so far as antiquarianism was concerned, were result of a near
elimination of excerpting or quoting from ancient works of art in contemporary
creations of nonclassical style.”413
This quote confirms what we have seen in earlier speculation: that in Vermeule’s
account the High Renaissance was homogenous due to its ability to absorb and unify (or
perhaps – to emulate) various influences from the art of antiquity, all of this achieved
eliminating what he called medieval mannerisms, for example, and allowing almost
unmediated access to a variety of styles of the Antique. And hence for him, as for many
other authors, the High Renaissance was a moment of equilibrium between then
contemporary and historical sources for creating art, or, as some even may have
claimed – the ultimate triumph of the Renaissance over antiquity, anticipated as early as
in Alberti. Consequently in such accounts it seems that unlike the Renaissance, the High
Renaissance developed into a unified yet distinguished set of styles which have become
Before we continue with this analysis, we need to remind ourselves of the two myths
from antiquity we evoked earlier and of their application that is evident even in the
dissertation how in Renaissance texts on art, antiquity was seen as the best model to
imitate or emulate, and based on such a view, the artists from the Renaissance could
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model and then compare their works to those of the best artists in antiquity. Such
models of valuation and comparison could have led the Renaissance artists to see
themselves as mere epigoni of antiquity, who, even if they successfully continued the
work of their ‘fathers,’ will never be as good as they had been. However, since the
Renaissance had (or declared to have had) a period of long decline in art between itself
and its sources for emulation, the myth that seemed more appropriate here was the
Roman renewal of the Golden Age, by which after a long stagnation and decline, an initial
state of perfection is restored. The burden of epigonicità thus was left for those artists
who came after the best ones in the Renaissance, in this case – for the Mannerists.
contemporary writers who made use of the myth of the Golden Age, the High
Renaissance became a moment when perfection and harmony finally were reached.
However, this moment was brief, and for most historians two paths for the development
of future art or styles of art were set in the 1520s, both of which were under the influence
of the two most excellent artists and their connexion with Antiquity: Raphael and
Michelangelo. Vermeule claimed that Raphael and his followers “looked past the
fluttering of Neo-Attic reliefs and classicizing frescoes to the Greek art of the fifth
century B.C.,”414 whilst Michelangelo, on the other hand, inclined “towards styles which
were to replace the High Renaissance with Mannerism, gravitated to the Flavian and
414 Ibid., 60
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Antonine baroque sculptures which preserved the grandiose, dramatic ideas of the
And here, the dichotomy that Chastel’s notion of the Clementine style416 avoided is
established by Vermeule – in his account it seems that the High Renaissance was
preserved in Raphael’s opus, and that Mannerism was signalled in Michelangelo’s work.
because “classical antiquity had surprisingly little influence on his work”417. To return to
the two main sources for further development in this model: for Vermeule, there was an
ease in which Raphael assimilated influences from classical antiquity, which were
reflected in his style here characterised as gentle and graceful and thus seen as related to
“the age and tradition of Praxiteles.”418 He also saw Raphael as the artist who “dominates
bent to the demands of a spirit and a style too great for the age in which [it]
explained in detail here – suffice it to say that Vermeule glorifies both Raphael and
his spirit and style which tragically emerged ahead of the time that could have
415 Ibid., 60. Even by making this statement Vermeule condemned the followers of Michelangelo – by his
time the value of Helenistic art was established as inferior to the Classic art of the Vth century.
416 The Clementine style as a model of development of art between the High Renaissance and Mannerism
has been presented earlier in this dissertation; we may reiterate here that Chastel saw Jacopo Pontormo as
the progenitor of Mannerism.
Vermeule’s attitude towards Raphael who was seen as graceful, and perhaps implies two simultaneous
qualities present in his work: his mastery and domination over Antiquity, which he, we may speculate,
applied with a sprezzatura so as to achieve the quality of grace or venustas in his art.
420 Ibid., 67.
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accommodated it421. More important for us here is that the choice the Mannerists made
between these two paths was according to Vermeule mediated by their perception of
“Mannerist artists saw Raphael’s and Michelangelo’s uses of the antique and wrongly
thought they had gone far beyond the former and could understand only the forms, not
the content, of the latter.”422
To understand the citation above properly we need to follow Vermeule’s intricate and
often contradictory model of the development of styles in the Cinquecento. His model is
based on estimating the level of absorption of the Antique, detecting the influence of
well as within individual style(s) of one artist. Vermeule used the different ways in which
account that posited High Renaissance style (or styles) as superior both to the earlier
Renaissance and to the following Mannerism. Even if we may disagree with Vermeule,
perhaps now we can understand why for many art historians who followed such
accounts Mannerists had many faults that would qualify them as epigoni. Firstly, it
seems to have been their culpa to come after Raphael and to live in the same age when
Michelangelo had lived. Secondly, since Mannerist art did not depend directly on the
previous High Renaissance, but rather on the relations between Antiquity and the art of
Raphael and Michelangelo, it was their mistake that they failed to see correctly both of these
421 This is a well-known topos about the artist-genius who is ill-suited for, or better: ahead of the time,
history or the Zeitgeist. Such a view of the tragic artist-genius who is misunderstood in his own age was
used frequently in Romanticism. By applying this trope here Vermeule undoes the image of the High
Renaissance as a new Golden age of the arts he has signalled earlier in his text.
422 Ibid., 67. Emphasis Added.
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relations, namely the relation between Antiquity and the Renaissance, and the relation
acknowledge that the style of the early works of Michelangelo contained elements of
Mannerism, especially his Pietà (1498-99, St. Peter, Rome) which “shows the proto-
Mannerism of Michelangelo and manifests his later style in technical terms of Roman
period (or style) in Antiquity, as seen in his Sistine Chapel frescoes, most importantly in
the Last Judgment in which “the isolation of monumental Hellenistic forms in the ceiling
as related to Antiquity:
“The youthful period was one of the great interest in investigating the antique. ... Very
quickly and for a long middle period Michelangelo was able to and chose to subordinate
antiquity to his own developed styles. He absorbed in these styles the elements of antiquity,
and antiquity came out as an unconscious ingredient. In his later years, Michelangelo
returned to or increased the proportion of more conscious borrowings from antiquity. He
was experimenting with several styles, and direct connection with ancient art, however,
was never more than a limited or controlled manifestation of these experiments.”425
As we have seen here, it seems that in his art Michelangelo oscillated between complete
absorption of Antiquity, its subordination and eventually in obvious borrowings from it.
423Ibid., 68. The footnote that follows this argument claims: “The early Mannerists were much impressed by
the features of Christ and the draperies surrounding Mary.” [Ibid., 68] Interestingly, according to de Tolnay,
this work is the last done in early, highly finished style by Michelangelo, to which he will never return.
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The pattern here, if not presented openly and clearly, is that of rise and decline: young
Michelangelo almost innocently absorbed the ancient art; the middle-aged artist
integrated what he had learnt from his earlier observation and used this knowledge to
obtain an original style of his own. Thus antiquity was subordinated in this period, and
present only unconsciously. Finally, in his later years, as if re-establishing contact with
his unconscious knowledge, Michelangelo went back to borrowing from Antiquity; and
here we must note that he did this while experimenting in several styles (this is probably
related to what Vasari wrote on Michelangelo’s ability to work with several styles).
Although Vermeule never stated this, it seems that for him Michelangelo in the last
period of his stylistic development lacked the discipline needed to subordinate antiquity,
or simply decided to borrow more openly from it. By doing so he came very close to
committing the practice of imitation, usually associated with Mannerism. And what is
most intriguing for us here is that many historians have seen Bronzino’s stylistic
his master Pontormo, via his best middle period when the references to Mannerism and
successfully, to his last years in which he returned to his previous styles and resorted to
Mannerist art inferior to that of the High Renaissance, he still discussed the connexion
between Mannerism and classical antiquity, devoting a whole chapter to this issue. We
are perhaps well aware that Mannerism did not reject antiquity, but rather inherited its
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accounts on Mannerism present it as an art of anti-classicism, or of sixteenth-century
‘expressionism,’ or, in the most difficult reading, as an unstable art that emerged in an
age of general fear and anxiety, for which classical sources did not offer many models to
Michelangelo who was present throughout its development, and if also we consider
opinions that see the middle period of Mannerism as newly classicised, we can also
include here yet another view by Vermeule of a relationship between Mannerism and
Classical Antiquity:
“By the time of Michelangelo’s death it seems that artists in Rome, Florence, Venice, and
elsewhere have found and used all that Classical antiquity could offer to contemporary
painting and sculpture. This was not so; although there was less borrowing from the
antique, the process took new forms, often difficult to recognize. The Mannerists – to use
the term favored by critics in recent years – had so much to borrow from Leonardo,
Raphael, and Michelangelo that they needed less contact with antique sources.”426
This statement is interesting and troublesome to us for two reasons. Firstly, if follow
Vermeule by not calling Michelangelo a Mannerist, it might seem that those artists,
active between 1520s and 1568, who found and used all the material available from the
classical antiquity also belonged to the High Renaissance (pace Franklin). This constitutes
a clear contradiction, since Vermeule called every artist from that period, except
issue of importance here: Vermeule implied that the Mannerists (Michelangelo again
excluded) borrowed from the best and richest sources, those of the High Renaissance,
and in that way perhaps acquired, if not in an obvious way, an indirect contact with the
antique sources. Whether this was viewed by Vermeule as a strategy that the Mannerist
applied to appear as less dependent on classical past and also allow themselves to evade
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the difficult process of copying the antique sources, by going directly to their emulated
and thus bettered versions, remains unclear. In his account though it is very clear that
Vermeule also claimed and perhaps surprisingly that all these new archaeological
“The Mannerists did not turn to heretofore unexploited monuments. Much the same
sculpture and all the same sculptural types were studied: Praxitelian statues, Neo-Attic
reliefs, Antonine and Severan sarcophagi, and certain striking gems.”428
Unstated yet implied here is Vermeule’s judgement on the Mannerists, which appears
similar to that of the critics who dislike Mannerism for its repetitiveness and its lack of
especially High Renaissance artists thoroughly explored and studied Antiquity is seen
here to have been abandoned in Mannerism, and the epigoni of the greatest artists of the
High Renaissance, of those artists who either dominated or even bent all they
accumulated from the classical art, remained slavishly concentrated on well known
ancient statuary. Perhaps these Mannerists were better than those mentioned earlier,
427 Ibid., 73
428 Ibid.
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who did not even study the new or old sources of Antiquity, but they bypassed these
difficult procedures by borrowing from the art of the High Renaissance, that already had
integrated (and perhaps even overcome) the forms of the classical past. The title of
“In short, the ancient world could provide material for the most abstracted, most exotic
design which Mannerist decoration could invent within the framework of a classic
rationality taken over from the High Renaissance. Ancient artists have had often reached
the same degree of calligraphic abstraction of classical nature and proportions which
Mannerists sought as their expression of a new objectivity.”429
and the abstracted design of the Mannerists. And thus, in a way, Mannerists were doomed
to be trapped within this opposition, their work resulting in cameo-like, abstracted and
exotic designs when juxtaposed to the rational art of the High Renaissance. However,
the analysis of Mannerist art – which one would expect to stop after these lines –
continued, since Vermeule’s account here was to identify classical influences in every
style of European art. And most interestingly for us here, he used Bronzino’s work to
429 Ibid., 74, Emphasis Added. This difficult sentence depends on a few complicated claims that do not
appear as axiomatic to us, but rather require separate and detailed explanation and elaboration before being
used. Firstly, Vermeule here characterised Mannerist design as abstracted and exotic, as if the abstracted
forms can convey recognisably exotic subject-matter. Even more difficult a concept is classic rationality, and
that very phrase deserves a special study, not only because rationality came to be used as a term for a much
later movement, but also because it remains unresolved whether all High Renaissance artists knew and
respected the framework of classic rationality. Classic rationality as a concept thus remains dubious; we can
only surmise that Vermeule saw the developments in philosophy and art during Renaissance as influenced
by the knowledge that can be rationalised [i.e. that is attainable by reason, and thus different from medieval,
that can only be obtained through spiritual exercises, exegesis, etc (though we must note here not all
medieval philosophers dismissed ‘rationality,’ and relied significantly on the studies in logic that reached
them from Antiquity)]. Finally, the intention ascribed here to the Mannerists to represent (or rather to
express) a new reality is another problem, since we do not know whether this was a feature to be found in
all the works from the period, and more importantly, whether any Mannerist recognised the existence of a
new objectivity, and accordingly strove to represent it.
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demonstrate how references and borrowings from Antiquity can be found in Mannerism.
Such an account confirms claims that in his best works Bronzino developed a classicised
style, but also fosters speculations about the originality of his work vis-à-vis works from
antiquity. Thus, for Vermeule, two very different tendencies can be distinguished in the
development of Bronzino’s style: one that was dictated by the period in which he
worked, by which his opus is seen as limited by the framework of classical rationality
that all Mannerists took over from the High Renaissance, and a more direct and personal
one, deriving from direct or unmediated borrowings from the then available classical
antiquity and to the High Renaissance, which identifies two distinct possibilities in
him to the painters of the High Renaissance and thus establish a special position for
Bronzino’s art, which by relying on earlier sources (even those from the Early
those from antiquity and those from the High Renaissance – intertwined in his work, we
will use as examples a few paintings by Bronzino and follow the comments on them by
Vermeule. In the Panciatichi Madonna (1535, Uffizi, Florence) he saw the figure of the
Madonna as the transformation of the Medici or Vatican Cnidia (Ist century B.C., Vatican
Bronzino remained faithful to its original mechanical preciseness and yet gained certain
qualities that betray the polished lucidity of Mannerist art.430 In the costumes in his
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importantly, in multi-figured paintings Bronzino rather follows the Quattrocento model
of using classical poses without referring to specific models, and thus he is seen as “a
product of the High Renaissance with its latitude of experiment with the Greco-Roman
this painting classical sources are precisely listed by Vermeule: while the figure of
Joseph was taken from one of the two Muses, a statue known in the Vatican at that time,
the figure of the shepherd derived from the images of satyrs lighting fire from
sarcophagi, and one of the angels running from the left stems from the image of running
Victoria on Roman coins of the Severan period (about 190-240 AD). In a similar manner
Vermeule analysed what he called two versions of Venus and Cupid (Allegory of Venus and
Cupid (1540-1545, National Gallery, London) and Venus, Cupid and Jealousy (1550,
in the proportions of the body of Cupid. The figure of Venus on the other hand has its
basis in the principal figures of the Nereid sarcophagi from the Antonine and Severian
periods. The unusually crowded and sculptural composition of the London Allegory, in
which Vermeule detected three layers of heads,432 is seen in his account as deriving from
the studies of the sections of the Roman sarcophagi from a very close proximity, under a
composition of this painting given by Vermeule, we see that his argumentation appears
as indisputable, since in his view all of the Mannerists’ modes of representation can be
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traced back to their studies of sarcophagi, usually resulting in cartoon format
drawings434. The last example provided here is Bronzino’s Christ in Limbo, in which in
Eve’s drapery Vermeule recognised influences from Praxitelian work such as Orestes and
Electra group in Naples,435 a Neo-Attic eclectic statue from the first century B.C. The
“For a Mannerist, Bronzino is very classical in his careful, sober approach to details of
antiquity. He paints classical portraits constantly and handles classical form superbly.
He must have spent much time drawing after the antique, and, even in his most mannered
religious paintings, does not conceal this training.”436
This conclusion serves to provide convenient introduction to our last subject in this
chapter, namely the most complex and controversial painting of Bronzino: the
Martyrdom of St. Lawrence (1564-69, San Lorenzo, Florence). If for many this fresco
belongs to what can be seen as the most mannered group of his works, here we will
agree with Vermeule437 that it rather shows Bronzino’s classical training. Moreover, we
will attempt not to view it as a result of Bronzino’s epigonicity towards the High
Renaissance, but rather to interpret it also, by focusing on its many novelties, as a signal
of a stylistic change in his work that may even be said to anticipate the forthcoming
Baroque Classicism.
434 Mannerist drawings of sarcophagi show this, for they “exhibit for the first time in postclassical study of
the antique a desire to project details of the relief to the surface of the picture plane in a drawing of large,
almost cartoon, scale.” [Ibid., 81]
435 Pasitelean Group, (Orestes and Electra), attributed to Pasiteles, copy, marble (c. late Ist cent. B.C., National
Museum, Naples).
436 Ibid., 82, Emphasis Added.
437 Ibid., 81.
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We first need to turn to the basic information about the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence,
recognising that its very location and scale within the Church of San Lorenzo – the
parochial church of the Medici – may have made it, by such association and its size, a
masterpiece or an opus magnum in the work of this artist. However, surprisingly little has
been written about the work itself and its relation to other major works in the church
there in Florence, and even today the historians remain rather reticent when discussing
it. The silence that surrounds this gigantic fresco – the only two-storey image in the
nave – is perhaps connected with the lack of positive reception within the critical
discourse. That this fresco was neglected or disliked by writers in art history also can be
seen as an effect of its proximity and relation to another contemporary important work
that was disliked and eventually destroyed in the eighteenth century, namely to
Pontormo’s Last Judgement438 (1546-57, San Lorenzo, Florence). We will follow the
accounts on both frescoes because of the possible connexions, both stylistic and thematic,
between them.
We can start with the most general written accounts of Bronzino’s work, that is, the
material now available at the Church of San Lorenzo. In the English version of the
official booklet Basilica of San Lorenzo439 neither Bronzino’s Martyrdom of St. Lawrence nor
the lost, whitewashed Pontormo’s Resurrection in the Choir440 of the same church are
this same space appears in different texts under different names: Cappella Maggiore, Coro, Choir Chapel or
Coro.
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mentioned. In the Italian version of the pamphlet or prospectus titled San Lorenzo441 a
more detailed plan of the church and paintings is given, and Bronzino’s fresco is
ascribed a location in the plan of the church, although it is not mentioned in the
accompanying text. In the prospectus in Italian only the works of Donatello and
In the earlier and more professionally written study of Florentine churches by Walter
“On the wall field behind the side door, Bronzino was to paint a counterpart to his
Martyrdom of St. Lawrence. However he died before [finishing it].”442
“Execution: Pontormo received the commission and there since 1546 he has created his
last work, a cycle of scenes out of the Old and the New Testament; after Pontormo’s
death continued by Bronzino…”443
In a recent book Bruno Santi presented a lengthier account of Bronzino’s work. When
describing the left aisle of the church, which “boasts a series of important works of
441 This publication includes texts by Giovanna Blasi Leoncini and Fortunata Stellacci Adessi, and it is
published by Archiodiocesi di Firenze, 1997, Polistampa.
442 Paatz, Walter and Elisabeth, Die Kirchen von Florenz, ein kunstgeschichtliches Handbuch, Band II, D-L,
(Frankfurt am Main, V. Klostermann: 1955): 512; [“Auf dem Wandfeld hinter der Seitentür sollet Bronzino
ein Gegenstück zu seinem Laurentius-Martyrium malen, starb aber zuvor.”], Our Translation
443 Ibid., 513, [Haupthorkapelle: “Ausführung: den Auftrag bekam Pontormo, der dort seit 1546 sein letzes
Werk schuf, einen Zyklus von Szenen aus dem Alten und Neuen Testament; vollendet nach Pontormos
Tode von Bronzino”], Our Translation. Paatz also claimed here that there was a painting of St. Lawrence
under the window in the lower zone of the central wall of the Coro. [“unter dem Fenster ein hlg.
Laurentius,” Ibid., 513]
We shall see that not too many sources mention the existence of the first Martyrdom of St. Lawrence which
was whitewashed along with Pontormo’s frescoes in the Choir.
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art,”444 he begins his account by referring to what he calls “a late work by Agnolo
Bronzino”445 which he sees as “a good indication of the eclectic and erudite Mannerist
style in which borrowings from Michelangelo mingle with influences from classical art.”446
A few years later Licia Bertani gave a similar account of Bronzino’s fresco, with a fuller
“The scene is set in an idealized square in Imperial Rome, lined by the tall Corinthian
arcades447 of two matching buildings whose perspective converges on a flight of steps,
closed across the top by a balcony rail, behind which looms an imposing central plan
building. In the foreground the saint stretches across the grill (similar to the one
represented in the Church’s Codex K, created in 1484 by Gherardo and Monte di
Giovanni) surrounded by his executioners and a crowd of men and women, a sort of life
studies of bodies in a manifestly academic manner. Citations of Michelangelo can be seen
in the choice of colors, all playing on warm tones of golden yellow, green, and violet,
and in the vigorous bodies.”448
None of the sources here, in their focus on criticising the style and composition of
Bronzino’s Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, took into account its possible connexion with the
now lost frescoes by his master Pontormo, usually known as the Resurrection or the Last
Judgement. These frescoes were located in the choir of the church, and very close to
Bronzino’s Martyrdom, separated from it only by the transept. And it seems necessary to
discuss both of these works together, not only because Bronzino completed Pontormo’s
lost frescoes, but also because there might have been a more profound stylistic relation
between Pontormo’s and Bronzino’s frescoes executed, as they were, in the same church.
444 Santi, Bruno, San Lorenzo: Guide to the Laurentian Complex (Boston, Mass.: Sandak, 1992), 60.
445 Ibid., 60.
446 Ibid., 60, Emphasis Added.
447 We believe that the depicted architectural elements are colonnades and not arcades.
448 Bertani, Licia, San Lorenzo: the Medici Chapels and the Laurentian Library (Florence: Becocci Scala, 1998), 42-
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It may seem contradictory that the last frescoes Pontormo painted at San Lorenzo, even
though they did not survive the reconstruction of the Church in the eighteenth century,
have attracted more scholarly attention than Bronzino’s surviving Martyrdom. This is
probably because Vasari commented on Pontormo’s last work in great length, specifying
many mistakes in their style and concluding that despite many beautifully painted
arrangement of the scenes and its programme in general. Elena Ciletti described in great
“The iconographical programme was a complex one, which included depictions of Old
Testament episodes, the Evangelists, the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, and the Last Judgment
(with separate representations of Christ in Glory, the Resurrection of the Dead, and the
Ascension of the Souls). Our only visual record of any sizeable section of the ensemble is
the rare print of the decorations for the funerary ceremony celebrated in S. Lorenzo for
Philip II of Spain in November 1589.”449
We know clearly why the frescoes did not survive because the Electress Palatine Anna
Maria Luisa, the last of the Medici, started in 1737 to rebuild or rather reconstruct the
Medici church of San Lorenzo, which after her death was left unfinished. Before the
works started, she also asked her architect Ferdinando Ruggieri to estimate the damages
in the architectural construction of the dome. These he found to be considerable and his
solution was to rebuild the lateral walls of the Choir, on which Pontormo’s Deluge and
Resurrection of the Dead were painted. Hence the frescoes on these lateral walls were
whitewashed. However, the frescoes on the upper level of the lateral walls may have
Ciletti, Elena, “On the Destruction of Pontormo’s Frescoes at S. Lorenzo and the Possibility That Parts
449
Remain,” The Burlington Magazine, Vol. 121, (Dec. 1979), 766. The rare print to which Ciletti referred is in the
Albertina, Vienna.
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survived, since when Ruggieri confirmed that Pontormo’s Guidizio Universale was
connected the frescoes on the upper to the ones on the lower walls.
Here we come to the most interesting fact in the analysis of the destruction of
interventions on the frontal wall of the Choir, since those were never mentioned by
Pontormo had painted “the Expulsion from Paradise, Christ in Glory, the Creation of Eve,
and the Original Sin in the upper zone and the Ascension of Souls and the Martyrdom of St
Lawrence in the central field of the lower.”450 To conclude: there was a Martyrdom of St.
Lawrence in the Choir that Pontormo started and that Bronzino finished in 1558, a fresco
different from the Martyrdom of St Lawrence (1564-69) by Bronzino, which was painted
later and thus remains visible still on the lateral wall of the nave. And if we are to follow
Ciletti here, since we have no evidence that it was physically destroyed or whitewashed,
the older version on Martyrdom of San Lorenzo may still exist there in San Lorenzo today
The visual evidence about the form of the fresco by Pontormo is also noted in another
careful study of his last work by Janet Cox-Rearick. She analysed the preparatory
drawings for the Choir of San Lorenzo and also concluded that “the drawing is not only
450 Ibid., 768. Pontormo’s frescoes were lastly recorded to have been in situ in 1604, but it seems almost
inevitable that they were destroyed in an attempt to connect the Capella dei Principi with the church of San
Lorenzo, and experiment executed and abandoned in 1836-7 by Pasquale Poccianti.
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cycle.”451 According to Cox-Rearick, Pontormo started painting the Choir in 1546 and he
probably finished the upper zone by 1550. When he died on 1st January 1557 Bronzino
completed the lower sections and the Choir was unveiled on 23rd July 1558. Cox-Rearick
also assigned locations on the Choir walls to the different frescoes that constituted
Pontormo’s fresco-cycle:
“…Bocchi specifies that the Last Judgment and the Deluge were on the left and right walls,
respectively. Vasari places the Ascension of Souls between the windows of the altar
wall …, with skeletons holding torches to either side of the windows and the Martyrdom
of St Lawrence bellow. Pontormo thus painted nine narrative scenes from Genesis, linking
them in an unsystematic typological arrangement with a single non-narrative
representation from the New Testament, the Four Evangelists.”452
Most importantly, Cox-Rearick claimed that Bronzino finished Pontormo’s Last Judgment
and Martyrdom of St Lawrence, and that in the latter he added a portrait of Pontormo.
However, Cox-Rearick argued that the sketches for these two frescoes, believed to be by
Bronzino, instead were by Alessandro Allori,453 since Bronzino summoned him from
451 Cox-Rearick, Janet, “Pontormo, Bronzino, Allori and the Lost ‘Deluge’ at S. Lorenzo”, (The Burlington
Magazine, Vol. 134, No. 1069 (Apr., 1992), 239, Emphasis Added... It may be useful to add here that in the
diagram on page 239 the centre is reconstructed with a slight error – the scene “Original Sin,” if we were not
to challenge the accuracy of the rare etching from Albertina depicted above in her article, is in the left, and
not in the right, in the place where “Expulsion” is, and vice versa.
452 Ibid., 241.
453 That it was Allori who finished the frescoes and not Bronzino she concluded from analysing Bronzino’s
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The most detailed formal and historiographical analysis of Bronzino’s Martyrdom of San
Ballerini, the commission for the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence in 1564 was the second one in
San Lorenzo entrusted to Bronzino referring to his earlier work finishing what Pontormo
started in the Choir, namely three scenes identified by Lapi Ballerini as: the Deluge, the
Resurrection of the Dead, and the Martyrdom of St Lawrence. This cycle of frescoes was
described as the Deluge “with many nudes that were missing in the lower parts,”455 the
Resurrection with “many figures facing frontally in one braccia width,”456 and in the low
part under the window “the naked St Lawrence on a grill with the number of cherubs
around him.”457 What Pontormo had begun was completed by Bronzino in July 1558
and Bronzino’s frescoes were judged by Vasari as of higher quality than those by
Pontormo.
Before turning to Bronzino’s second fresco of the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, we need to
acknowledge here a very important possibility that none of the other sources has taken
into consideration: namely, that if Pontormo’s Martyrdom of St. Lawrence was really there
in the Choir, then in 1565 Bronzino was painting in close vicinity not only to his late
master’s work, but also to his own (or Allori’s) earlier fresco of the Martyrdom of the
454 Lapi Ballerini, Isabella: “Il ‘Martirio di San Lorenzo’ di Agnolo Bronzino,” San Lorenzo, 393-1993,
l'architettura: le vicende della fabbrica, ed. Morolli, Gabriele and Ruschi, Pietro (Firenze: Alinea, 1993): 184-5
455 Lapi Ballerini here referred to Lapini, A., Diario fiorentino, (1587-96), ed. a cura di Corazzini, O., (Firenze,
1900): 121.
456 Ibid.
457 Ibid.
215
However, there are important differences: whereas the earlier Martyrdom was a part of
Pontormo’s cycle and also smaller in size, here the Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence is far
bigger and a separate image. Commissioned by Duke Cosimo I de’ Medici in February
1565458 it is located on the wall of the last left bay in the church of San Lorenzo, although
it seems different plans were also made for the same wall for a fresco Il Martirio dei SS.
Cosma e Damiano (portraying SS Cosma e Damiano, the patron saints of the Medici)459
described as to be executed on the wall by the organ by Vasari. Yet this commission was
abandoned and instead on that wall a new fresco was to be painted, representing the
Martyrdom of St. Lawrence. Bronzino, who by then already had fallen out of the Duke’s
favour,460 finished the fresco on 10th August 1569,461 which was one of his last major
commissions, important both for the ambition of its size and for the complexity of its
imagery. It is also significant since, within the critical tradition, this picture so often has
been read as an irrevocable moment in the decline of Bronzino’s art. In our attempt to
see whether this criticism indeed is fair and whether this fresco can be seen as
And we also will examine if it is indeed – as has so often been said – an artistic homage
458 Cosimo I wrote to Bronzino from Pisa: “The painting you will paint on two walls of St Lorenzo it is fit to
ask to make sketches on the cartoons as to see them and think about them, because the embellishment of
that church is very important to us.” [Lappi Ballerini, Op. Cit., 185, footnote 1]
459 Ibid., 184-85.
460 Bronzino lost his position at the Academia as well as his pension before this commission, Cf. Brock, Op.
Cit., 322.
461 According to the Golden Legend, San Lorenzo was executed on that same date in 258 AD.
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it as an attempt by Bronzino to restore, within the Late Mannerist style,462 certain
Let us first look at the fresco and its subject matter. The scene of the Martyrdom is set in a
square of Imperial Rome, flanked by two buildings with colossal Corinthian columns,
painted carefully from originals Bronzino may have seen during his stay in Rome in
1548. There is a centrally directed perspective here and the focal point accentuates a
flight of stairs behind which is shown an imposing central plan building not unlike the
In Bronzino’s fresco, St. Lawrence, unclad, is represented as being burned at the grid-
iron, surrounded by soldiers, executioners, and groups of men and women, the Saint
and individuals all painted in vibrant colours and in great detail, demonstrating
Bronzino’s ability to represent anatomy persuasively. To the right is the Roman Emperor
Valerian, depicted as delivering his sentence. The upper section of the painting is given
to the sky, the contours of the architecture, and the angels who crown the Saint,
confirming by their very presence that this incident will be remembered as sacred
history in the Golden Legend. In the middle section of the fresco, various portraits in the
Pontormo, Bronzino and Alessandro Allori. In the lower section of the picture three
female allegories of Christian virtues grouped in the immediate foreground mirror the
That style which Walter Freidlaender called anti-mannerist reaction, or Proto-Baroque, or Neo-
462
Renaissance.
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The records of the surviving immediate reactions to St. Lawrence are sparse and not
benevolent. Vasari had great expectations for this fresco, claiming that it would confirm
Bronzino as a great painter. But since it was finished after the second edition of Le Vite in
1568, what he said there was but a hope and a prediction. Raffaelle Borghini on the other
hand, writing about the Martyrdom in 1584 in Il Riposo eighteen years later observed that
the dignitaries working for the Emperor were, as he said, not dressed, or had too few
garments, which was inappropriate for “barons who serve such a superb Prince.”463
Borghini also criticized the separation of the three women from the rest of the group.
Thus he condemned the fresco for its lack of decorum, or what we today call
appropriateness, a notion which gained great importance in the years after the Council
of Trent (1545-63) and became a vital instrument in the valuation of religious images.
Hence the Martyrdom, like many other of Bronzino’s later religious paintings, was
burdened by this criticism of Borghini.464 And it was this interpretation that was
463 We will give here Borghini’s comment in Italian original: “…abiti poco convenevoli alle figure, che egli
dipigne… che sentendosi molto valere nel fare ignudi, ha fatto l’Imperatore nella sua istoria a fresco di San
Lorenzo, che fa tormentare il martire, intorniato da’ suoi baroni tutti nudi, o con pochi panni ricoperti: cosa
molto disconvenevole a persone, che servano superbi Principi” [Lapi Ballerini, Op. Cit.,185] We would
suggest here that by stating this Borghini revealed his misunderstanding of the positions and titles in the
Roman Imperial Court as well as of the Roman history itself.
464 Pamela Jones provided us with a useful commentary on Bronzino’s Martyrdom, imagining it had come
from Gabriele Paleotti (1522-97), the bishop of Bologna, who wrote Discorso intorno alle imagini sacre e profane/
Discourse on Sacred and Profane Images of 1582 “in response to Council of Trent’s decree that bishops oversee
the production of Christian art in their dioceses. “
Cf. Jones, Pamela M., “Art theory as Ideology: Gabriele Paleotti’s Hierarchal Notion of Painting’s
Universality and Reception” in Reframing the Renaissance: Visual Culture in Europe and Latin America, 1450-
1650 ed. Farago, Claire, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 127-140.
According to Jones, similarly to other Tridentine writers, Paleotti chose image or painting, and not the text
or word (as Protestants did) to be a universal language. Paleotti differentiated three stages in the viewing
process of the painting: “delight, instruction and moving.” All of the delights that the images can show were
available only to “’a person who will look at Christian paintings with purged eyes [con occhio purgato]…’”464
[Ibid., 131]
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paraphrased or repeated by many later writers on Florentine arts: in 1677 by Francesco
Bocchi and Giovanni G. Cinelli, 465 in 1767 by Giuseppe Richa,466 and in 1816 by
Pontormo’s frescoes in the main altar area in 1740, that this fresco survived.468 Perhaps,
as Lapi Ballerini suggested in 1993, the Martyrdom was liked because it was seen as
Although Paleotti never discussed this particular fresco by Bronzino, Jones in her text chose to apply
Paleotti’s views on “an example of maniera art” that is, on Bronzino’s “famous Martyrdom of St. Lawrence of
1569….” What follows is her account which is supposed to mimic Paleotti’s criticism of Bronizno:
“If Paleotti had seen Bronzino’s painting he would have considered it confusing, for the saint is difficult to
find and, once found, to keep one’s eye on, due to the over-abundance of distracting ornament: complicated
poses of nude (read ‘lascivious’) figures, an elaborate perspectival schema, and wild gesticulations that do
not lucidly convey emotions inherent to the narrative. In short, Paleotti would have found Bronzino’s image
indecorous because its pictorial embellishment is inessential, or, in Augustinian terms, its ornament is
merely superficial.” [Ibid., 131, Emphasis Added.]
Nevertheless, in Jones’ account, The Martyrdom of St. Lawrence would not be seen as a dangerous painting
(unlike many other Bronzino’s religious images painted and then critiqued as lascivious) because of its
particular style, which she explained in following way:
“It is implicit that Bronzino’s Martyrdom of St. Lawrence would not lead the viewer to sensual cognition. This
is because sensual cognition was dependant on appreciation of a painting’s beauty, variety of colors, effects
of light, and the variety of its figures and ornaments. Accordingly, the hard, dry style and lack of tonal
range (typical of maniera style) of Bronzino’s painting do not qualify as effective sensory stimulants.”464 [Ibid.,
131]
Jones presented here a strange stylistic account, bearing in mind Vasari’s description of the development of
the arts towards less hard and dry style, which hardly can be seen as typical of all maniera. Bronzino was
often celebrated for his beautiful colours and interesting tonal range, which is said to have derived from the
best traditions of the High Renaissance. It may be said here that perhaps Jones produced a harsher
judgement of Bronzino’s painting than Paleotti would have done.
When approaching the subject-matter in the Martyrdom, Jones used a standard repertoire of criticism about
this painting, that is, she saw the content as unclear or rather obscured by the overabundant ornamentation:
“And, although Bronzino’s painting is full of varied figures and ornaments, surely they contribute to its lack
of verisimilitude; that is, the painting’s contorted poses, exaggerated gestures, lack of convincing emotional
reactions, and so forth, would also prevent the viewer from achieving rational cognition, which Paleotti
associated with the close imitation of ‘life and truth.’” [Ibid., 131]
465 Lapi Ballerini referred to Cinelli, Giovanni G., Le bellezze della città di Firenze (Firenze, 1677).
466 Lapi Ballerini referred to Richa, Giuseppe, Notizie istoriche delle chiese fiorentine: divise ne' suoi quartieri, vol
V (1767): 34
467 Lapi Ballerini referred to Moreni, Domenico, Continuazione delle memorie istoriche dell' ambrosiana imperial
Choir; our parallel here was based on bad reception both frescoes received.
219
paraphrase Luigi Lanzi, Bronzino was said to be too close to Michelangelo not to imitate
Beyond the criticism of decorum, the Martyrdom has been burdened from the times of
Benvenuto Cellini to the present by what is called its Mannerist imitation, its plagiarism
even. According to Lapi Ballerini and Brock, a myriad of visual references exist in the
Chapel (1542-45, Vatican) or the New Sacristy (1520-1534, Florence) or to works of art of
Benvenuto Cellini and Giambologna as well as to many from antiquity. It is claimed that
there is an echo of Giambologna’s Mercurio (1563, Museo Civico, Bologna) in the angel
holding a chalice, and from The Triumph of Florence over Pisa (1564, Florence) in the bust
of a female located in the central background of the fresco, both of which references may
support Benvenuto Cellini’s claims that Bronzino used sculptural models of other
sculptors in his study for this work: Cellini’s, Michelangelo’s, Ammanati’s, and
Giambologna’s.
It was this pattern of criticism that survived into modern scholarship. Arthur McComb
in 1928 saw St. Lawrence as "empty in all significance, devoid of taste, crassly
McCorquodale noted that the fresco lacked “didactic clarity”470 and concluded that it
was “a fusion of ballet and Turkish bath,”471 and “one of Mannerism’s most monumental
failures from every point of view.”472 More recently Alessandro Cecchi claimed that the
220
composition of The Martyrdom "has a disjointed and artificial appearance,"473 and is
"thronged with naked figures in affected poses in the manner of Michelangelo.” It was
only Sydney Freedberg who in 1971, writing in his magisterial account of sixteenth
century painting, saw St. Lawrence as a successful painting, since it “transforms its
violent and tragic theme into a beautifully artificial fusion of gymnasium and ballet,
played upon an antique stage.”474 He concluded by calling the Martyrdom “one of the
most consistent demonstrations of the aesthetic of the high Maniera, and one of the
Let us now turn to what may have been unclear to Cinquecento viewers, but which
today can be seen in a new light – that is to say, to its success, its novelties in
composition, its narrative devices, its style. The composition here is organised by an
almost symmetrical and highly articulated architectural setting, with the lateral
buildings and the square arranged in a way not unknown to the Renaissance painters.
We can agree here with Maurice Brock476 who saw the preparatory drawing for the
neglected by the Mannerists, as the depth of the depicted field receded and the spatial
relations in what Walter Freidlaender called their flat and layered paintings became more
221
complex. This is one of the major differences between the Renaissance and the Mannerist
treatment of the idea of the Albertian window: for whereas the depth of the depicted
space of the Renaissance painting was made easily accessible to the viewer, by the
which was in accordance with its distance from the viewer, most of the Mannerists
avoided such models of depiction, or vision, and turned in their paintings to more a
complex positioning of the actors and objects. This is not to say that the knowledge of
Renaissance perspective was lost for the Mannerists: think here of Parmigianino’s
Madonna della colo longo (1534-40, Uffizi, Florence), the right-hand segment of the
prophet. In fact, the Mannerists applied prospettiva to achieve effects which, if seen as
rhetoric, were intended to surprise and intrigue rather than provide information about
the represented subject-matter of the painting. This is certainly true of the abstract
such examples as Moses defending the Daughters of Jethro (1523, Uffizi, Florence), or in The
Visitation (1528-29, S. Michele, Carmignano) and in the Pauline Chapel (Vatican, 1542-
1550).
But to go back to Bronzino: We may recall that in his portraits Bronzino seldom used
exterior backgrounds – either in the form of architecture or landscape. Even so, as in the
portrait of Bartolomeo Panciatichi (1540, Uffizi, Florence), the depicted space is illogical
and can be read as a mixture almost of exterior and interior. And in the portrait of
Eleonora of Toledo (1545, Uffizi, Florence) the view of Florence in the background is set at
such a distance that the dominant blue of the sky becomes an abstract veil rather than a
222
spatial indicator. In Bronzino’s allegorical paintings, the background is usually hidden
by intricately intertwined, bejewelled, yet naked bodies and fabrics of gem-like colours.
It was in his religious paintings that Bronzino was interested in representing space in
fuller detail most often, if still rarely in a way that would have agreed with the rules of
in such paintings as St. Benedict (1520, Badia, Florence) the Adoration, (1535-40,
Szépművészeti Múzeum, Budapest) and in his tapestries and later works like Noli me
Tangere (1560-65, Louvre, Paris) he was willing to focus on it too. The differences
regarding this idea of perspective that appear in his religious works cannot be explained
easily, since there the rule that would help us to establish the groups which show
differences in his approach, cannot be reached easily. Suffice it here to say that from the
detailed spatial representation and from the composition he chose to apply the
Martyrdom of St. Lawrence belongs to neither of the two vaguely recognisable groups of
his religious works: the one in which the background is not represented in greater detail,
and the other, in which more attention is paid to it. Thus in this respect it remains a
The Martyrdom is also outstanding for its novelties regarding decorum and iconography.
Having said that the architectural frame is so important an element in this fresco, we
would suggest that here, in his way, Bronzino may have taken full note of the notion of
decorum regarding both the moment in which he painted and the historical period
represented in the fresco, since the architecture clearly seems to locate the scene in
Imperial Rome. The rendition of the Emperor’s attire and of his throne seems to reflect
further the respect of historical decorum. The iconography Bronzino chose here deviates
223
from the Florentine tradition, in which St. Lawrence is represented either as a young
Lawrence was the “Archdeacon of Sixtus II, M. 10 August 258.”477 He was upon the
order of Emperor Valerian grilled on a gridiron and finally beheaded at Rome, and was
in Florence the “patron saint of bakers.”478 St. Lawrence is represented usually “as a
young deacon martyr, often with St. Stephen... or with St. Sixtus, … holding a censer in a
chain, holding a gridiron, holding a chalice with wafers in it, enthroned, with gridiron,
holding a banner.”479 It was highly unusual that he would be shown on the gridiron, and
only one scene in Florence like that exists, in the Pulci Berardi chapel in Santa Croce.
Instead, in San Lorenzo Bronzino depicted an enactment of the martyrdom, and such a
There is another important novelty, not previously addressed, that Bronzino introduced
comparison with Pontormo’s Christ before Pilate (1523-25, Certosa del Galluzzo) may be
helpful now, for there, the staircase in the background in which the boy is represented,
carrying the vessel with water for Pilate to use after sentencing Christ, has both a formal
and a narrative function. In Pontormo, the event which will occur in the future is being
announced by a figure appearing in the background, and thus the usual tripartite
narrative, set to be read from left to right, is put into chronological perspective. Similarly, in
his painting Noli me Tangere, Bronzino depicted three scenes that followed Christ’s
477 Kaftal, George, Iconography of the Saints in Tuscan painting (Florence: Sansoni, 1952), 614.
478 Ibid.
479 Ibid., 614.
480 Cf. Posèq ,Avigdor, “Chronography of Space In Piero della Francesca,” SOURCE: Notes in the History of
Art, Vol XXV, No. 2, (New York, Ars Brevis Foundation: Winter 2006), 16-25.
224
Resurrection – two in the depth of the painting and one in the foreground, the main
being the scene with Mary Magdalene. In the Martyrdom of St. Lawrence the centre of the
painting is occupied by the Saint and other actors, and by the Tempietto-like monument.
We would suggest that this temple in the background481 represents the chronological
resolution of the martyrdom, for it stands as the martyrium where the Saint will be
buried, once Christianity prevails over paganism. The central domed structure, which
of the inevitable victory of the Early Christian Church, the building here also
of the anti-mannerist reaction in 1580s looked back to the stable, clear and symmetrical
early or high Mannerist, here seems in the style of his painting of 1569 to precede the
Neo-Renaissance style by ten years. Such changes in the composition, in the narrative
devices and in the style of this picture may be seen as to anticipate the Classicism that
was to emerge a few years later in Florence and Bologna. Perhaps today this work can be
revealed as looking boldly into the future rather than melancholically recapitulating the
482 Monopteros: A temple consisting of a single circle of columns supporting a roof. (OED) Tholos: A circular
domed building or structure; a dome, cupola; a lantern. Monopteros may be better because tholos need not
have columns.
483 Cf. Friedlaender, Walter F., Mannerism and Anti-Mannerism in Italian Painting, (New York: Columbia
225
past. If this painting has not been interpreted this way usually, it was because many
later critics followed Borghini, who himself may have felt uncomfortable with the shift
here in formal or narrative devices, and displaced his discomfort by condemning the
picture as indecorous. We have seen also that this culpa in decorum, as well as the
painting – coloured the views of more recent writers on Bronzino. Yet it was the
Promethean hubris contained in the Martyrdom, such an early instance of a new scheme
of representation that made it inaccessible to the viewers of the period. And perhaps,
only today, Bronzino’s Martyrdom of San Lorenzo can be seen not as a work of an epigone,
but rather as similar to works of artists as varied as El Greco or Vermeer, which have
passed from critical failure to critical success only slowly, and with the help of Time, the
226
Conclusion
In the Introduction to this dissertation we stated that we would address many complex
issues regarding Bronzino’s pictures and their styles, as well as those regarding
cannot establish sufficient critical distance that is necessary for evaluating our work (this
task will be performed more successfully by our readers), we need to present what we
present our material clearly, and in a way that is most appropriate and adequate for our
since we believe that the reception of Mannerism as a style was closely related to the
Bronzino varied according to their genre, and thus we decided to introduce here a
genre-based model of reception of his paintings. The results of this very model of
evaluation led us to investigate further in Chapter III the paintings belonging to one
particular genre, which though not stylistically unified, we believe, suffered the most
Chapter III addressed the style, or styles, that developed within Mannerism and also
those that can be traced in Bronzino’s opus. We started it with a general account of the
227
term maniera from which Mannerism originated, mostly relying on Marco Treves’
scrupulous article on maniera in all of its meanings, which, we believe, still remains very
important yet excluded from the general account on Mannerism. His views on the
connexion of the terms maniera and style, based in a thorough analysis of texts from the
remains arguable: that between Mannerism and the notion of style. Such speculation led
models of stylistic development that can (or cannot) be useful for approaching
often presented as a moment of decline that followed the successes of the previous
Renaissance, we analysed a uniform pattern that revealed itself in any such valuation
and which is based, we believe, in the notion of rise and decline in culture, that was
generated in antiquity. By doing this, we hope that we, to a certain degree, managed to
remove the stain of the negative criticism that was so firmly placed on Mannerism by
demonstrating that such negative evaluation it received was in part a result of the
pattern that repeats itself in any history based on a notion of rise and decline, and not an
objective expression of its intrinsic value. Our focus was then turned to different styles
that were available in sixteenth-century Florence and finally – to the choices in style and
present Brozino’s changes and oscillations in styles, especially in his later allegorical and
religious paintings, not as an effect of a decline, but as a result of his deliberate artistic
228
Chapter IV addressed the concept of epigonicity, which remained one of the most
important issues for us in this work, since Bronzino, like so many other Mannerist artists,
was, in different ways, seen to have been the epigone of his more distinguished
predecessors. This new term led us to explore two myths essential for the Renaissance
and Mannerism respectively: the myth of the Golden Age (and its revival) and the myth
of the Epigoni. We hope that we explained successfully the various points in which these
two myths differed and also the moments in which their narratives intersected. We
returned from mythology to history then to access the moment in which Renaissance
style was succeeded by Mannerism, and this difficult question opened up a new way of
looking at this transition, found in Chastel’s notion of the Clementine style. Continuing
our narrative of the epigone, we first traced their more successful father, that is, we
traced the style and the narratives that emerged around the great Michelangelo. Finally
after analysing in detail the elements in his style, most importantly the accounts of his
Last Judgement, that were to influence the Mannerist the most, we turned to Bronzino’s
important Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, so as to determine its artistic and stylistic novelties
and their value, thus challenging the traditional interpretation of this work as a perfect
We cannot flatter ourselves here that such a small and arguable contribution to the
consequence on the predominant academic view on this subject and style. The
scholarship, or as irrelevant to the current debates in art which are far removed from the
notion of style or even Mannerism, as the term Early Modern Art slowly replaces what
229
we knew as Renaissance. But we hope that in writing about Bronzino, Mannerism and
style we managed to view and represent these old paintings and these old terms by
using different modes of vision and description, those which eliminate the clouds of
past criticism and current negligence, and present to us and perhaps to the sympathetic
reader of this dissertation a new and a clearer view and estimation of Bronzino’s
230
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