CHAPTER IIDERIVATION AND CHARACTER OF HIS ART

[14]Doc. Sen.iii. 33-4. Trans. Crowe and Cavalcaselle, vol. iii. p. 285.

In the spring of 1508 he was back across Italy to little Spello, where, in the transept of Sant’ Andrea, he left an altar-painting, a Madonna and Saints, which does not add materially to his reputation. On a little stool in the foreground of the picture is painted a letter of Cardinal Baglioni, dated April 8th, 1508, written from his castle of Rocca di Zocco, full of affectionate assurances, and asking the painter to return to Siena. Its inclusion has been imputed to Pintoricchio’s vanity; but a man who had been friends with Popes, and who had long been courted on all sides, was hardly likely to be uplifted by the friendship of a simple Cardinal-bishop. It is more likely that he was bitten with a rather inartistic fancy for painting objects lying about, to deceive the eye, and hit upon this as an appropriate one.

He now paid his last visit to Rome: Pope Julius II. had summoned him, together with Perugino, Signorelli, and others, to consider the decoration of the Vatican rooms. Giambattista Caporali, the historian, speaks of a supper at which they were all present at the house of Bramante. Their host was the man who had introduced young Raphael to the Pope, and Pintoricchio, among the rest, had the mortification of seeing himself superseded in the city where he had been foremost a few years earlier. He and Signorelli returned toSiena together, and the master of Cortona stood sponsor to the child born in January 1509. In October, Pintoricchio had sold a house in the third ward of the city to Pandolfo Petrucci for 420 florins. He was in close contact at this time with that great merchant prince, and was employed with Signorelli on Petrucci’s new palace, where he painted the frescoes, of which one, the “Return of Ulysses,” in the National Gallery, is all that remains. We find him buying land in Siena and selling it in Perugia, making his will, and arranging his affairs. In the last year of his life he painted that brilliant and tender little picture of “Christ bearing the Cross,” now in the Borromeo Palace at Milan. He was suspicious and unhappy about his wife’s behaviour, and a fresh will was made, to which a codicil was added in September and another in October. In the first he deprived her of some of the money he had already left her, but he returned it in the last addition.

Vasari’s story of the cause of his death, which took place December 11th, 1513, can be nothing but a fable. He tells us that Pintoricchio was executing some work for the Fathers of San Francesco, and being hampered by a heavy bureau in the room assigned to him, insisted on having it moved. In the transit it broke open, and a treasure of gold was discovered in the secret drawer, so much to the chagrin of the painter that he never held up his head again. The friends who knew the painter in Siena do not allude to any such occurrence; and the popular master, entrusted with more commissions than he could execute, well paid and honoured by all men, was not likely tobe upset by the sight of some gold coins, even if he could persuade himself that he had any right to them. The real circumstances of his death were sadder, if less sensational. Sigismondo Tizio, a Sienese historian, writer of a mass of almost unedited matter, who was his attached friend and his neighbour in the parish of San Vincenzo and Sant’ Anastasia, has left a record of his last illness, in which he accuses his wife Grania of causing his death by her neglect. Tizio says that she went about with her lover, Girolamo di Paolo, nicknamed il Paffo, a soldier of the Piazza at Siena, and that Bernardino was shut up and left to die of starvation; that some women heard his cries and went to his assistance, and that it was from them that Tizio afterwards learned these particulars. From Tizio’s way of describing it he seems to accuse her of a deliberate attempt to starve her husband; but as no proceedings were ever taken against her, and she succeeded in peace to her inheritance, we may gather that she was not guilty of actually criminal conduct, though her neglect was sufficient to hasten the death of a man attacked by serious illness and needing careful nursing. Bernardino Betti lies buried in the Parish Church of San Vincenzo, joining the Oratory of the Contrade of the Ostrich. In 1830 the Abbé de Angelis put up a plate with an inscription to his memory. Mariotti speaks of a Giovanni di Pintoricchio who was a canon of the Cathedral of Perugia in 1525; but Pintoricchio’s own sons would have then been too young to hold such a post, and we hear nothing in later years of his descendants.

After his death Grania lived on in Siena, and twoyears after, as his executor and trustee, sold two lots of land to one of the Chigi for 1677 florins. Again, in the following year, she sought permission to sell the land which was the portion of her daughter Faustina, and she makes a will which is dated May 22nd, 1518. The man who was said to be her lover afterwards married her daughter Egidia.

We possess several portraits of Pintoricchio from his own hand; all are sufficiently like one another, though painted at different periods of his life, to assure us that they were like the original. The first is in the fresco of the “Argument of St. Catherine,” in the Borgia Apartments. The painter at this time must have been about thirty-nine years old. His portrait certainly looks much younger; but he was a thin, dark man who very possibly looked less than his years, or he may have purposely represented himself so, as we notice this in other portraits. The face is an interesting and sensitive one, with speaking eyes and a melancholy expression. In the striking head which he has signed and placed as a picture on the walls of the Virgin’s chamber in the chapel of the Baglioni at Spello, the face has sharpened and aged considerably, though it still looks young for a man of fifty-two. The lines have deepened, the mouth is compressed, and the face wears a look of ill-health, almost of suffering. It has the dark, arched brows of the artist, and clever, observant eyes which look out at us, sideways, tending to give a suspicious look, though probably it was only that he saw himself so in a mirror. Again, he stands in the row of portraits in the fresco of the “Canonisation of St. Catherine,” in the Library atSiena. This face, too, has an expression of bitterness and melancholy—pinched lips, and sad, regretful eyes.[15]The self-conscious expression of all leads us to suspect that his was a self-tormenting, morbid nature, such as the artistic temperament and keen sense of beauty might well have combined with a sickly body to produce. In the eyes, too, it is easy to read that fantastic touch which came out in his love for story and for the grotesque, and perhaps there is something of that aloofness which the deafness, which led to his nickname, so often gives.

[15]In the group of Apostles in the “Assumption” at Naples is one, the fifth on the left, which he is said to have meant for himself, but it is less characteristic than those already noticed.

That he was a lovable man is, I think, evident. We hear of no quarrels with his fellow-artists; Perugino secured him some of the best positions in the Sixtine, Signorelli was his child’s sponsor. He had clearly the art of managing his assistants, who everywhere worked intelligently under him. With Fiorenzo his artistic relations must have been of the closest. Pope Alexander valued him, and Cæsar’s mention is an affectionate one, while the letter of Cardinal Baglioni is full of friendliness. Besides this, few things are more interesting in the history of artists’ friendships than the close confidence and affection which all study of the frescoes at Siena convinces us existed between him and the young Raphael. Sigismondo Tizio, in his MS., gives his opinion that Bernardino surpassed Perugino as a painter, but that he had less sense and prudence than Vannucci, and was given to empty chatter.

A small number of Pintoricchio’s works cannot bedated, and we must be satisfied with mentioning them, and considering the times at which they might have been produced.

His name is written variously in the documents of the time. In the grants of land signed by Cardinal Camerlengo, it is Pentoricchio, and Pentorichio on the fresco of Geometry in the Borgia rooms. Cardinal Baglioni writes it Pintorichio. In Grania’s petition it appears as Pinturicchio. He himself signs his last picture, the “Cross-bearing Christ” in the Palazzo Borromeo, Pintoricchio, and to this form I have adhered. In the documents he is usually styled Messer Bernardino.

UMBRIA is a land of late development in the history of Italian painting, and of a sharp division in the character of its art. No town of the importance of Siena, second only to Florence, held sway in that part of Italy, nor do we find any name in its early history which we can place side by side with Giotto, Orcagna, or Duccio di Buoninsegna. It is difficult to account for this: the Umbrian plains were indeed ravaged again and again with blood and carnage, were seized upon, now by this party, and now by that; but all acquaintance with the art of the Renaissance bears in upon us that art as a rule only flourished more strongly when fed by war and ruin. One tyrant after another, as he rested from his conquests, became the patron of the painters. Pictures were painted to immortalise great victories, the altar-piece upon which the fame of Duccio chiefly hangs, was ordered by the Consiglio of Siena as a thank-offering to the Virgin after the battle of Monte Aperto.

The accounts of the cathedral at Orvieto give us names of artists who devoted themselves to its decoration towards the end of the fourteenth century—others were working in Perugia, paintingeffigies of traitors, hanging head downwards on the walls of the Palazzo Pubblico, but we have no reason to rank them higher than those who have left traces of their work in the little votive chapels that lie in the hills and out-of-the-way corners of Umbria. Some of these, going back to 1393, are not without a character of their own, guiltless indeed, of technique, but naïve, vivid, and full of energy; yet they show little of that gradual growth which marks the Florentine school, nor do we find in them any trace of the fine, precise touch, which the early Sienese painters drew from the school of Byzantium. According to Mariotti, the art of miniature painting and illumination was carried on with great enthusiasm in Perugia, in the fourteenth century. Dante speaks of Oderisio of Gubbio:

“—Non se’ tu Oderisi,L’Onor d’Agobbio, e l’onor di quell’ arte,Ch’ alluminare è chiamata in Parisi?”

“—Non se’ tu Oderisi,

L’Onor d’Agobbio, e l’onor di quell’ arte,

Ch’ alluminare è chiamata in Parisi?”

Then, when the fifteenth century was unfolding, two streams of art sweep across the province, distinct, yet mighty, mingling like the waters of the Rhine and Rhone. The many scattered towns of Umbria led to a far greater variety of type, individuality was more frequently maintained, influences spread more fitfully and partially than in those parts of Italy where all studied together, and practice and theory flew like wildfire from one to the other, emulations flourished, traditions were quickly formed and earnestly followed.

Gentile da Fabriano stands forth among the dearth of talent in Umbria at the dawn of the century, as the one master who was great enough to add realism toglowing colour and vivacity of fancy, and who, taking the old missal-painting character as a groundwork, could transplant all the pride of pageantry of the Middle Ages on to his panels, and give us in the gold brocades and velvet robes, in fairy princes and beautiful ladies, tropic birds and strange beasts, such a scene of joyous gallantry that, as in the “Adoration of the Magi,” we can hear the tinkle of bells and the clang of gilded trappings, as the long procession winds down the gay hillside.

After a space, while a dainty colourist like Ottaviano Nelli painted enlarged miniatures and vapid angel faces, there arose a few miles off, at Arezzo, one of the strongest of masters; Piero della Francesca set a star of grand simplicity as a constraining guide, calm and broad, before those men who had the gift of the open eye. The character of that art was as exacting as it was scientific. It was as much geometrical and mathematical as artistic, and was occupied more with problems than with religious feeling. Its power was felt over a wide area, and moved even those who were least naturally alive to it. There seemed a likelihood that Umbrian art would, on the one hand, become absorbed in the Florentine character, hardly distinguishable from it, and, on the other, degenerate into puerile prattle; but there had wandered to Montefalco, one from Florence, who, to the enlightenment and the conscious effort drawn from those who clustered round Donatello and Masaccio, added a temper which appealed directly to the native feeling of Umbria. Benozzo Gozzoli was not a great painter, but his talent for narrativepainting set a new model before those whose aptitude in that direction responded to the impulse. A school arose which combined in curious harmony the love of decorative detail of the miniature pictures, the space effects of Piero’s large and airy settings, and the story-telling proclivities of the naïve and garrulous Florentine.

Though Pintoricchio’s early years are obscure, little doubt can exist as to his artistic derivation from Fiorenzo di Lorenzo, who combined the characteristics of the newly developed school in a pre-eminent degree. Rumohr ascribes Pintoricchio’s style primarily to the school of Niccolò da Foligno. This attribution is founded partly on the “Altar-piece of Santa Maria dei Fossi,” the arrangement of which is similar to some of Niccolò’s great anconas, the Madonna and Child enthroned in the centre, saints in panels on either side, a Pietà above, which divides an Annunciation into two parts. The types in this last scene certainly resemble Niccolò’s, and were constantly repeated by Bernardino; but the angels in the Pietà are from Fiorenzo, and the whole spirit is opposed to that of the intense and austere Folignate. It was painted, too, so long after Bernardino’s art was fully formed that it can hardly serve to illustrate any early influence. No doubt, when he visited Foligno at this time, he took many ideas from what Niccolò had left there. Something too he owed to Benedetto Bonfigli; the cheerful naïveté, the quaint adornments of dress and garland which attract us in Bonfigli, are traits which we find in Pintoricchio. The little oval, pointed face, with its arched brows, and small, close shut mouth, the type to which Bonfigli is constant,is that to which Pintoricchio adheres for his Madonna and angels; but this type is to be found too in Fiorenzo’s earlier work, as in his “Adoration of the Child” in the Gallery in Perugia. If we compare this picture with Pintoricchio’s “Nativity” in San Girolamo’s Chapel in Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome, we see at a glance the resemblance that underlies a few superficial variations. The whole construction of the two groups is similar. The Madonna’s bent head, elbows squared, joined palms and finger-tips, the Child, lying partly on His Mother’s robe, the position of the grey-bearded St. Joseph and the shepherds—everywhere Pintoricchio has been guided by the earlier master, though instead of the donor and two young men, who may have been his sons, and who kneel with their great hound behind them, he has substituted St. Jerome and his lion, and shepherds of a more acceptedly religious type, while the group of singing angels overhead is transferred from Fiorenzo’s panel to that other Nativity at Spello.

Over the door of the Sala del Censo in the Palazzo Pubblico at Perugia, is a lunette of a Madonna and Child by Fiorenzo, which might well be Pintoricchio’s own. It has his full touch and copious brush. We find the Mother again in the exquisite little fresco over the door of the Hall of Arts and Sciences in the Borgia Apartments, transplanted almost without alteration of line or expression; while the two angels on either side are those which he uses to support the dead Christ in the Pietà at the top of the polyptych painted for Santa Maria dei Fossi.

We have no trace of Pintoricchio himself everhaving visited Florence, but the water flowed to him none the less from the fountainhead, and he assimilated it in his own manner. Fiorenzo, we feel sure, must have been there, and that in those years when Verrocchio and Pollaiuolo approached most nearly to one another; and it was Fiorenzo, and not Perugino, who was the channel through which Florentine influence filtered to Pintoricchio. We recognise Verrocchio in the wide and swollen nostrils, the broad head, the hooking of the little finger, and the treatment of the hair which Fiorenzo adopts; while we perceive that Pollaiuolo has aroused a wish to show more animated action. From Pollaiuolo, too, comes the careful handling of brocaded stuffs, the little, crab-like, clutching hands, the delight in using the costume of the day in all its fantastic picturesqueness. Even more striking is the architectural influence which Fiorenzo conveyed to Pintoricchio. The masters of Umbria became singularly alive to the charm of airy architectural space, and such classic settings as we may date from Brunelleschi’s visit to Rome in 1403, and more especially attribute in their working out, to the high, imaginative faculty and Greek spirit of Leo Battista Alberti, whose spacious arcades are often used merely as decoration. At Urbino, in the court of the Ducal Palace, the Umbrians had one example of the highest interest: here was the taste which Lauranna drew from the Florentines, and which passed onwards to Bramante. Piero della Francesca shows, in his “Flagellation” at Urbino, how keenly he feels the charm of placing groups in this wide, distinguished setting; but none assimilates his teaching so fully inthose early days as Fiorenzo, whose remarkable series of small panels of the miracles of San Bernardino, give us, as Dr. Schmarsow says, “the first step, without which Pintoricchio is unthinkable.”[16]

[16]“Pintoricchio in Rom.”

The natural features of Umbrian scenery, its high-skied plains, its wide valleys, account in a measure for the pre-eminent feeling for space shown by its artists, and for their power to give air and atmosphere to those lofty structures in which they love to place their personages. These little panels, painted at Fiorenzo’s finest period, are sharp and strong, yet fine as miniatures. The figures stand well on the stage. The point of sight is very low, at scarce a third of the whole, so that we have an undue proportion of airy surrounding, though all is on such a small scale. The perspective drawing shows how well-fitted Fiorenzo was to ground his pupil accurately in this, however insufficient his study of anatomy may have been. The drawing of the architecture is fine and true throughout, but in the figures, even if we allow for variations in Fiorenzo himself, we can hardly avoid seeing two different hands. They have all the charm of his manner, a manner essentially Umbrian, while we see a very distinct spirit, a spirit which was shared by Bonfigli, and by such a lesser master as Boccatis da Camerino, a naïve and cheerful tone, a direct simplicity, which is as far removed from the melancholy which broods in the eyes of the rapt saints of Siena, as it is from the scientific temper that ruled within sound of the Arno. Many of the figures are childish in their desire to express emotion, and arealmost grotesque in detail, the hair is in a mop, exaggerated till it looks like a huge bird’s nest, the hands are cramped and claw-like, but here and there we meet with graceful, well-proportioned beings, keeping their slender grace, without the angular and unpleasing length of limb which marks their companions. In the panel where San Bernardino raises a youth from the dead, a child playing with a dog recalls Pintoricchio’sputtion the pilasters at Siena. The young man on the right in the same scene, is supple and gracefully draped; a contrast to the wooden movements and stiff draperies of his fellow-pages. Even better is the youth reasoning, in a repetition of the same miracle, with his hand upon his hip and a dark cap perched upon his rippled curls.

Alinari photo] [Picture Gallery, PerugiaA MIRACLE OF SAN BERNARDINO(By Fiorenzo di Lorenzo)

We begin to speculate as to whether Pintoricchio, who was a young man of twenty-two at this time, was helping Fiorenzo; and to ask, Have we here the sign of that talent which was marked by Perugino, with whom he must have been for some years, before he was chosen as his chief assistant in the Sixtine Chapel? Above all, Pintoricchio’s landscape is derived from Fiorenzo. The open distance, cut up by small hills and trees, the winding streams flowing through the valleys, and, most characteristic, the poised and toppling rocks, forming archways and overhanging masses, often set about with houses and peopled with tiny figures. An examination of the “Crucifixion” in the Borghese, illustrates the difficulty at this time of distinguishing between Fiorenzo and his pupil. The hard brightness of colour, the drawing of the crucified figure and that of St. Christopher, the heavily markedfolds of drapery, the landscape—all recall Fiorenzo; but the figure and head of St. Jerome, the hands, the expressive head of St. Christopher, the free and natural attitude of the Child, are something better than we look for in the earlier painter. If we may really accept this panel, as both Morelli and Berenson assert, as Pintoricchio’s work, we may place it as his earliest on his arrival in Rome. The St. Christopher and the Moses of the meeting with the angel in the Sixtine, seem drawn from the same model. The round forehead, full mouth, shape of jaw and broad throat are identical, and it is a very individual face.

His knowledge of architecture, his composition of landscape, the type of many of his figures, Pintoricchio derived from Fiorenzo, and Fiorenzo’s was the influence that remained with him most strongly; but though permeating him less thoroughly, less akin to his own temper, Perugino, his elder by only four years, a much greater master, both as regards form and colour, had something to say to his development. We cannot tell when the two first came into contact, but Morelli considers that Perugino went to Florence about 1470. Milanesi, in his notes on Perugino’s life by Vasari, says that he received a commission to paint in the Palazzo Pubblico in Perugia in 1475. He was certainly working in 1478 at Cerqueto, in Umbria, so that most likely it was about that date that Pintoricchio joined him, which would have given them at least four years together, before the time came to go to Rome.

We have so little knowledge of any work of Pintoricchio’s before his Roman period, that it isdifficult to certainly assign paintings to this time. The “Crucifixion” shows no trace of Perugino, but the boy’s head at Dresden, which Morelli believes to be an early work, has the solid character and realism which distinguish Perugino’s portraits. His influence comes out fully developed in the Sixtine frescoes. That the two men had been working together for some time is obvious, not only by the importance of the share with which the younger was entrusted, but also by the number of drawings which he prepared for Perugino’s own frescoes. The elder painter’s guiding hand is apparent in the draping, simpler and larger than that of Fiorenzo, the more careful drawing and calmer dignity.

These frescoes might possibly be taken for Perugino’s, but scarcely for Fiorenzo’s; and though Pintoricchio still adheres to the traditions of the latter in his treatment of the details of landscape, he begins to formulate his own scheme of colour and composition. In his angels flying forward from above, on either side of a group of sacred persons, Perugino is copied almost stroke for stroke (allowing for Pintoricchio’s heavier touch) in the assimilation ofmotifsdrawn from older masters. The fold of drapery falling between the knees and narrowing to a point, the over-sleeve flying out in a sweeping curve, the draped tunic and the fluttering ribbons, all become a formula of Perugino’s manner—adopted by all his followers—Lo Spagna, Tiberio d’Assisi, and the rest. Yet, where the treatment approaches most nearly, there remains a constantly differing type. Perugino, in a half-profile, almost invariably inclines the head one way or another,giving to the eye a peculiar ecstatic upward gaze. Pintoricchio rarely uses this attitude. In his drawing of St. John, for Perugino’s fresco, of the giving of the keys, this is just the change the older master, on adopting it, has made to suit his fancy. Pintoricchio has an ineradicable tendency to bring the knees of his figures together. They sway with a peculiar, knock-kneed grace. If we contrast the central group in the “Baptism of Christ” in the Sixtine, with those of Perugino at Rouen, or that at Foligno, painted many years later, we note the sweep inward from the hips, and outward from the knees in the first, while the inclined head and upward gaze in Perugino’s St. John gives place to a more simple and direct expression in that of his pupil. We are always conscious, too, of a less strong, less confident spirit—one more nervous, more personally reflective of moods and idiosyncrasies.

The golden atmospheric effects which were Perugino’s greatest gift to art, the feeling for distance, and for the sun-warmed calm of summer, taught Pintoricchio new methods, modified without effacing the teaching of Fiorenzo, and certainly led to a more natural treatment. That Fiorenzo was impressed by the vigorous art of Signorelli, his neighbour of Cortona, is to be seen in his late work, “The Adoration of the Magi.” The young men, more strongly drawn than is customary with him, the kings in Eastern dress, the heads of Joseph and of the old king, the drawing of the hands and the Madonna’s draperies—all show a freer and closer study of nature, all point to some fresh impulse, the impression of a strong talent upon a weaker one.

The problems which absorbed the great master of Cortona had never much attraction for Pintoricchio, who had not a scientific mind, and whose artistic education, deficient to begin with, was brought to a premature end by his sudden popularity. Yet something he drew from Signorelli, a firmer treatment of the youths in hose and doublet, some attempt to study limbs and muscle. The series left by Benozzo Gozzoli at Montefalco, the paintings of Perugino and Signorelli, were the best examples of form which came in Pintoricchio’s way. They could not succeed in making him very strong, but when he draws frankly from the life, you need hardly wish for more telling portraits.

It would be absurd to claim for him sublime creative power, tactile values, mastery over form and movement. He has none of these. His persons rarely stand firmly upon both feet; his pages, his kings and queens, are too often drawn and even coloured like playing-cards; his crowds are motley and ill-arranged. The dry and purely scientific student of the schools of Italy will find it more than easy to demonstrate Pintoricchio’s shortcomings: it is less simple to analyse the charm that triumphs in spite of them, and which gives keen pleasure to one side of the artistic nature.

J. A. Symonds says of him that he is a kind of Umbrian Gozzoli, and in his clear and fluent presentation of contemporary life brings us into close relation with the men of his own time. No one loved better than Gozzoli to assemble contemporary celebrities; and in the feeling for incidents of everyday life, in the joy of living, in fondness for garrulous narrative,his frescoes must have been full of suggestion for the Umbrian master of the next half-century, who, in his love for the narrative and the picturesque, surpassed all who had gone before. In Florence, if he had made his trial there, he might have gained more of strong and true study, he might have learned the laws of grouping, of ærial perspective, he might have gained a better knowledge of anatomy, yet in mastering all these, he might have lost something that he possesses: that freshness of feeling which is the spring and sap of all art, that young and winning joy that carries him through scenes of magnificence without losing sense and spirit.

There is in the art of Pintoricchio a direct simplicity of expression and gesture that saves him from conventionality and cloying sweetness. His persons are not above criticism as far as technicalities are concerned, but they have in them this, that they are occupied and absorbed in the business in hand. You may fancy at first that they are artificial, but that is merely their environment; they themselves are simple, they do not pose or look upwards or out of the picture with an affected appeal for admiration. This quality gives to Pintoricchio a truthfulness where he lacks depth. To the last he has a sincerity which underlies his conventionality, just as his dainty care in detail counterbalances his want of freedom and rhythm. His forms lack the nobility of Perugino’s, his religious emotion is less deep, but he is not self-conscious, he has a freshness and raciness which saves him from fatiguing by monotonous sweetness. He does not make his paintings a series of excuses forthe solution of scientific problems, so that they are more spontaneous, more the outcome of the man’s natural unfettered inclination, than are the works of some of those who made greater discoveries in the field of painting.

In the picturesque qualities of his work he is completely a child of the Renaissance. Perhaps none harmonises better with the rich and lavish beauty which haunts us still in every little town of Italy. His feeling, sumptuous yet exquisite, his treatment, naïve yet distinguished, is the prerogative of that age of fresh perception, and of unspoiled acquaintance with the beautiful. It is the fairy-tale spirit that so endears him to us. Like the mediæval singers of romance, he guides us through scenes that have a glamour of some day of childhood, when they may have seemed real and possible. The wistful, wide-eyed youths, the tender, dainty Madonnas and angels, the grave, richly-dressed saints and bishops, might all stand for princes, for maidens, and magicians in some enchanted realm of fairy. He does not take us into the region of the tragic, but his fancy, his invention, and resource are fertile and untiring; he leads us on, dazzling, entertaining us with a child-like amusement, disarming criticism by a lovable quality which enlightens us as to the natural sensibility of the painter’s mind, a sort of penetrating sweetness with which he can endow his creations. Perhaps the truest explanation of his charm is to be found in the union of two incongruous elements. The artificial and mannered grace, the search after the exquisite and the splendid, joined to the naïve and childish simplicity, the freshnessand arcadian fancy of the Umbrian school. It is such a combination as enchants us in a child masquerading in gorgeous robes, or in a wild honeysuckle dancing over a richly-carved marble column. Certain it is, that here we possess the very cream of that fantastic aspect of the Renaissance in conjunction with the most distinctive features of purely Umbrian art.

Mr. Berenson has given us a fine appreciation of Pintoricchio’s feeling for space and for space-decoration. In this, so Umbrian a characteristic, he was a worthy follower of Fiorenzo, the not unworthy second to Perugino, and a forerunner of Raphael. The ample and spacious setting of his groups takes off from their cramped and crowded effect. Where the action is awkward, or the colour heavy, the whole spirit is lightened and lifted as you breathe the air of those delicious landscapes, or wander in imagination under those high-poised arcades, or look out from a palace chamber at the freedom and sweet breezes of a mountain distance. It is the more remarkable that Pintoricchio is able to give us this charm of landscape, as he adheres to his early training, and finishes the most distant parts in delicate detail.

It is as a decorator that he holds his own most successfully among his contemporaries. It soon became apparent that no one could cover the walls of palace or chapel with an ornamentation so rich and gay, so advantageous to the position, so homogeneous in character. To find anytout ensembleto compare as decoration with the Borgia Apartments we must look at early mosaics, at the opulence of the little church of San Prassede, or the peacock hues of San Vitaleat Ravenna. To estimate his achievement we must weigh what he has made of those rooms, “si desespèrément carrées,” or of the oblong and barn-like space of the Libreria in Siena.

He is mainly empirical rather than scientific, even in his most successful moments, but that his want of drawing was due to insufficient study of the nude is shown by the fact that his touch is fine and strong, his faces, hands and feet, always well and firmly drawn, his outlines delicate and decisive. He individualises his faces, and the bystanders in his crowded scenes show a most interesting variety and reality.

When not painting fresco he is constant to the use oftempera. Unfortunately, he is too much given to sacrifice the transparency and depth of his colour by a lavish use of retouchingà secco. In order to gratify his love for brilliancy, he produces an opaque surface, and is apt to give us a sort of splendid gaiety in exchange for real depth. His use of his gorgeous pigments is extremely skilful, especially towards the middle period. In the Sixtine Chapel frescoes, he has hardly let himself go, and in the Siena Library he inclines to be gaudy and glaring; but in many of his scenes the greens and peacock-blues, the rich, soft rose-pinks, the purples and autumn gold are those of a man whose nature was keenly alive to the joy of colour. His use of embossed gold is dictated by the same natural bent towards the gay and decorative. This small, mean-looking, deaf man was rarely sensitive to fulness of life, to splendour, and the delight of the eye, and wherever he has covered a wall with his work, or left a panel or an altar-piece, we get a glance backat an age which was not afraid of frank magnificence, guided by a purer taste than we can boast.

Pintoricchio never shows the ear in his female heads. In the men’s it is large, placed high, with the inner cartilage strongly defined. The hand has a short metacarpus and long fingers, the thumb well separated, and the little finger hooked in Fiorenzo’s manner. He paints with a full brush, and has a heavy, liquid touch in fresco, but in working in panel he shows a beautiful surface quality which oil painting could not surpass.

A FACT that another has once discovered and substantiated seems so obvious to those who come after, that they can hardly understand how it could so long have remained unrecognised. To Morelli belongs the credit of having swept away the tradition that in Signorelli and Perugino were to be found the authors of the two frescoes, “The Journey of Moses” and “The Baptism,” on either side of the altar-piece in the Sixtine Chapel. After four hundred years of gathering oblivion came one who looked with open eyes, disregarding all mere tradition, and who saw the handwriting of Pintoricchio writ large upon the walls, waiting there, full within sight, yet overlooked, till, after centuries, the truth is acknowledged, unmistakable, supported not only by internal evidence but by drawings and studies—direct testimony affording conclusive proof of their authorship.

It is perhaps owing to Melozzo da Forli being court painter to the Vatican in 1480 that we may attribute the preference shown in the first instance to Umbrians in the choice of decorators for Sixtus IV.’s new chapel. To Perugino the direction seems to have been given in the first place, he and his assistants arriving in Rome in October 1482. Here they would have hada great deal to prepare, the spaces to plan, the Pope’s directions to consider, the ornamentation of the windows and the niches for the martyred Popes to decide upon. The scheme of the type and anti-type which balances the opposite walls, is very probably due to the Pope and his advisers. Pope Sixtus was a writer on theology, was esteemed a man of profound scholarship, and had in the years immediately preceding written several books on important points of doctrine. Perugino was at that time the undisputed head of the school of Umbria, and his religious spirit and conventional treatment of sacred subjects was likely to be much more acceptable to the Holy See than the new spirit of scientific inquiry. The contract between him and the Pope makes it probable that at first he and his assistants were to be entrusted with the entire work. Whether the Pope got impatient and wished to see his chapel more speedily completed, or for what other reason, is uncertain; but when Giuliano della Rovere went to Florence in December, he agreed with a number of Florentines to resort to Rome, and the whole company of artists was gathered there by the year 1483. Foremost among these was Sandro Botticelli, and from documents which have recently come to light we gather that the superintendence of the entire scheme was finally entrusted to him and not to Perugino.

Among the assistants brought by Perugino, were “Rocco Zoppo and Bernardino Betti, called il Pintoricchio.” The operations of the first were limited to certain portraits of the Rovere family in the altar-piece, which at that time represented the “Assumption,” by Perugino, with the “Finding of Moses” and the“Nativity of Christ” as the beginning of the two sacred histories. Pintoricchio’s place, in his master’s estimation, was a very different one. We have no reason to doubt that he was Perugino’s right-hand man. From the degree to which he has imbibed his style, he must have been working with him for some time before, and the drawings in the Venetian sketch-book, as it is generally called, so long erroneously attributed to Raphael, make it clear that he supplied Perugino with designs for several of his principal figures, which the master altered slightly to suit his taste when he came to transfer them to the plaster.

Vasari[17]tells us that Pintoricchio worked with Perugino in the Sixtine Chapel, and took a third of the profits, but this testimony afforded no clue to former critics, and for some centuries “The Journey of Moses” was attributed to Luca Signorelli. Burckhardt was the first to dispute this claim, and to ascribe the fresco with morevraisemblanceto Perugino.[18]Crowe and Cavalcaselle[19]repudiate the attribution to Signorelli. They see in both this and “The Baptism” the work of Perugino, but in parts, in the young man stripping, and in the youth by his side, they recognise a likeness to Pintoricchio, though in the children of “The Journey” they profess to see plainly the hand of Bartolommeo della Gatta.

[17]Manni.Raccolta Milanese di vari opuscoli, vol. i. f. 29.[18]Vol. iii.[19]History of Painting in Italy, iii. 1783.

[17]Manni.Raccolta Milanese di vari opuscoli, vol. i. f. 29.

[18]Vol. iii.

[19]History of Painting in Italy, iii. 1783.

The attribution of these two great frescoes to the younger master has made a great difference to his place in art. In some ways they are the finest andtruest works he has left us; it is curious that they are the first that can with certainty be ascribed to him.

Morelli,[20]in appealing to the internal testimony of the frescoes in the Sixtine Chapel, tells us it was their landscape backgrounds which first opened his eyes. He further cites the overcrowding in the composition—“a fault which Pintoricchio very often commits, Perugino hardly ever.” Even the falcon in the air is repeated by Pintoricchio in his frescoes at Siena. The children he compares with those in the chapel in Ara Cœli. He sees the character of the master plainly stamped on many of the individual figures, and on the plan of the composition. Evidence more minute and conclusive is derived from the book of drawings to which I have already alluded. Towards the middle of the nineteenth century these, on the authority of Professor Bossi, were assigned to Raphael. Bossi bought the book at a sale, and deciding that they were studies by the great Urbinate, was full of elation at the acquisition of such a priceless treasure. When at Bossi’s death they were bought by the nation, Passavant, Count Cicognara, and Marchese Estense, all noted connoisseurs, unhesitatingly pronounced them to be by Raphael, and for his work they still pass in the Accademia in Venice.

[20]Italian Masters in German Galleries, pp. 264-284.

It would take far too much space to go with Morelli through all the fifty-three drawings, with a circumstantial criticism which leaves only three (detached and on different paper) to the younger master. We must content ourselves with examining those which Pintoricchio used for figures in frescoes which remainto us. A number of these examples occur in “The Journey of Moses.” On one sheet is a sketch for the woman kneeling with outstretched arms, who performs the rite upon the little son of Moses. On another page is a study for the drapery of the seated woman. Again, the heads of four women are drawn on one sheet; no less than three of these are introduced in the fresco. One of the two upper heads is used for the woman bearing a jar, the position being very slightly altered; while of the two lower heads, that on the left is a study for Zipporah leading her child, the other for the head of the woman with the child upon her knee. The quaint head-dresses are reproduced to a nicety: one with outstanding bows on either side, and the loose, flying scarf, knotted in front, the other with the scrolled cornucopia-like ornament curling round the ear. For “The Baptism” we have a study of the seated woman in the background, and for two of the nude figures of youths. For Perugino’s fresco, “The Giving of the Keys,” Pintoricchio has left two drawings for St. John, standing with his hand upon his breast; one of the two is ruled in squares for transferring to the wall, and this is the one adopted by Perugino. From two other studies figures have been introduced; the cloaked man, third from the left, and two just above, in the background. There is also an elaborate drawing for the Madonna in the altar-piece in Santa Maria del Popolo, and a drawing for the lion in a scene from the life of St. Jerome in the same church. We thus have no fewer than thirteen heads and figures, clearly recognisable as studies for frescoes painted before Raphael was six years old.

Private photo] [VeniceSTUDY OF HEADS FOR THE “JOURNEY OF MOSES”

The drawings, fine and delicate as they are, have the stiffness, the careful, square-crossed hatching which is found in others by Pintoricchio, also his shape of hand and foot, and the narrow, elongated forms and in-bent knees.

Pintoricchio was now twenty-eight. He must already have produced a great deal of work, but not only have we no trace of it, but what is left is almost all known to be of later date. However obscure his life before he came to Rome, his proceedings after that are well known, and there is hardly a year unaccounted for, or which cannot be almost certainly filled up from inference.

Rome had no cinque-cento painters of her own; but none the less, the great traditions of the past, which that century was fast reviving, made her the Mecca of the artists of Italy. That the two frescoes in the Sixtine Chapel were Pintoricchio’s first great commission is probable, and it must have been with exultation that he set to work to give free play to his decorative instincts on the large bare walls. Though the whole is imbued with Perugino’s spirit, and full ofmotifscopied from him, the composition is not the least like his calm, glowing landscapes and well-ordered, symmetrical groups. The background is all reminiscent of Fiorenzo—the toppling rocks, the little bushy trees, the joyous air of the little figures frolicking on the hillside, the palms and cypresses, the beautifully shaped hollow of the valley, the falcon in the air pursuing smaller birds. The crowded groups are in Pintoricchio’s style; the want of concentration of interest, the narrative spirit running through thewhole are just what were most dear to his genius. There has been much discussion as to whether his master helped him. Did Perugino paint the figure of the woman busied with the rite of Circumcision, and of Moses looking on? Or did he execute the heads of any of the Florentine colony who are brought in, and who might have preferred to have their portraits from the hand of the master rather than from that of the pupil? I can find very little trace of Perugino’s own hand, unless it be in the head of Moses on the right, in which the execution of the hair is more in his manner, though not nearly as fine and rippling as he paints it in the frescoes of the keys. The action of the angel in the centre is quite in the manner of Pintoricchio, and Perugino never would have placed the hand of Moses in such an awkward attitude of expostulation. The children are like his in the Buffalini Chapel in the Libreria and Borgia apartments, and contrast favourably with Perugino’s fat, unshapely babes. As a whole, it would be difficult to find a more attractive piece of decorative painting than this. The various scenes, the shepherds dancing at the marriage feast, Jethro and his household taking leave of Moses, the departure of the leader of Israel with his family, and the rite of Circumcision are pressed into one harmonious scene. The background melts naturally into the foreground without appearing confused, and the vigorous white-robed messenger of God, with shimmering hair and wings, drawn sword and outstretched arm, divides the two foreground groups in a manner as original as it is sufficient. Moses, clad in the traditional yellow robe and green mantle,stopping at the angel’s command, is a fine, grave figure of marked personality. The two women occupied with the child on the right, Zipporah leading the little boy, the damsel on the left balancing her jar, are some of the most beautiful and graceful forms that Pintoricchio has given us. The draperies are less voluminous than in later pictures, and fall in straighter, simpler folds, resembling the more statuesque drapery such as we find in the “St. Thomas and the Saviour” of Or San Michele, and which Perugino, on his return from Florence, imparted to his pupil in place of Fiorenzo’s sharply-cut-up folds. Here, too, Pintoricchio proves himself to be, what he was evidently considered in Rome, a landscape-painter of the first rank; and it is especially by the landscape that Morelli tells us he made out the identity of the painter of this fresco. Nothing up to this time had been seen so lovely as this background,—on one side, the low purple hills, touched with golden gleams, running down into the soft distance, on the other, a clear, grassy space, giving a sense of air and gaiety to the little pastoral. Both the frescoes in the Sixtine have undergone such repeated cleanings and restorations that little of the original colour remains, and the effect is somewhat faded and grimy; but we are still able to see with what skill white robes are made use of—an art in which Pintoricchio excels in many of his paintings.

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