"Publisdhed in conjuntion with the exhibition: Magnificenza! the Medici, Michelangelo, & the Art of Late Renaissance Florence (In Italy, L'Ombra del genio: Michelangelo e l'arte a Firenze, 1538-1631) ..."--Title page verso.
"Publisdhed in conjuntion with the exhibition: Magnificenza! the Medici, Michelangelo, & the Art of Late Renaissance Florence (In Italy, L'Ombra del genio: Michelangelo e l'arte a Firenze, 1538-1631) ..."--Title page verso.
Franklin's unprecedented examination of Vasari's work as a painter in relation to his vastly better-known writings fully illuminates these dual strands in Florentine art and offers us a clearer understanding of sixteenth-century painting in Florence than ever before." "The volume focuses on twelve painters: Perugino, Leonardo de Vinci, Piero di Cosimo, Michelangelo, Fra Bartolomeo, Ridolfo Ghirlandaio, Andrea del Sarto, Franciabigio, Rosso Fiorentino, Jacopo da Pontormo, Francesco Salviati and Giorgio Vasari."--BOOK JACKET.
There are no surviving documents that explain Michelangelo's complex sculptural program for the Medici Chapel. The work as we have it is no more than an unfinished, fragmentary realization of the artist's original conception. Speculation about its meaning began quite early, for Michelangelo's contemporaries were apparently no better informed than we. An interpretation made by Benedetto Varchi in 1549 & since universally accepted, was by his own admission a personal opinion, not confirmed by the artist. In the 16th century, interpretations quite at variance with modern scholarly assumptions were made. Here, Dr. Edith Balas contends that the artist deliberately veiled his meaning in obscurity, making his images, like the language of Neoplatonic philosophers, intelligible only to an intellectual elite. Assuming the role of the Magus, Michelangelo conceived a cryptic, magical world of potent allegorical images designed not simply or primarily to commemorate the departed Medici but to help achieve elevation for their souls. Illus.
To whom should we ascribe the great flowering of the arts in Renaissance Italy? Artists like Botticelli and Michelangelo? Or wealthy, discerning patrons like Cosimo de' Medici? In recent years, scholars have attributed great importance to the role played by patrons, arguing that some should even be regarded as artists in their own right. This approach receives sharp challenge in Jill Burke's Changing Patrons, a book that draws heavily upon the author's discoveries in Florentine archives, tracing the many profound transformations in patrons' relations to the visual world of fifteenth-century Florence. Looking closely at two of the city's upwardly mobile families, Burke demonstrates that they approached the visual arts from within a grid of social, political, and religious concerns. Art for them often served as a mediator of social difference and a potent means of signifying status and identity. Changing Patrons combines visual analysis with history and anthropology to propose new interpretations of the art created by, among others, Botticelli, Filippino Lippi, and Raphael. Genuinely interdisciplinary, the book also casts light on broad issues of identity, power relations, and the visual arts in Florence, the cradle of the Renaissance.
Michelangelo, like Leonardo, was a man of many talents; sculptor, architect, painter and poet, he made the apotheosis of muscular movement, which to him was the physical manifestation of passion. He moulded his draughtsmanship, bent it, twisted it, and stretched it to the extreme limits of possibility. There are not any landscapes in Michelangelo's painting. All the emotions, all the passions, all the thoughts of humanity were personified in his eyes in the naked bodies of men and women. He rarely conceived his human forms in attitudes of immobility or repose. Michelangelo became a painter so that he could express in a more malleable material what his titanesque soul felt, what his sculptor's imagination saw, but what sculpture refused him. Thus this admirable sculptor became the creator, at the Vatican, of the most lyrical and epic decoration ever seen: the Sistine Chapel. The profusion of his invention is spread over this vast area of over 900 square metres. There are 343 principal figures of prodigious variety of expression, many of colossal size, and in addition a great number of subsidiary ones introduced for decorative effect. The creator of this vast scheme was only thirty-four when he began his work. Michelangelo compels us to enlarge our conception of what is beautiful. To the Greeks it was physical perfection; but Michelangelo cared little for physical beauty, except in a few instances, such as his painting of Adam on the Sistine ceiling, and his sculptures of the Pietà. Though a master of anatomy and of the laws of composition, he dared to disregard both if it were necessary to express his concept: to exaggerate the muscles of his figures, and even put them in positions the human body could not naturally assume. In his later painting, The Last Judgment on the end wall of the Sistine, he poured out his soul like a torrent. Michelangelo was the first to make the human form express a variety of emotions. In his hands emotion became an instrument upon which he played, extracting themes and harmonies of infinite variety. His figures carry our imagination far beyond the personal meaning of the names attached to them.
Michael Hirst's chapters are followed by Jill Dunkerton's survey of Michelangelo's technique as a painter on panel, using both egg tempera and oil paint, based on the investigation of his paintings in the National Gallery. Included in the discussion is Michelangelo's slightly later Doni Tondo in the Uffizi, Florence, his only completed panel painting and one of the most perfect of his works. Dunkerton also looks back to the paintings by Ghirlandaio and his workshop in which Michelangelo was trained. Her illuminating text helps us to understand how Michelangelo executed these two familiar but relatively little-studied paintings and also to envisage the startling finished appearance probably conceived by the artist.
The Renaissance was one of the greatest and most glorious periods in all art, and Florence was its center. From Botticelli to Michelangelo, from superb painting, goldwork, and sculpture to dazzling churches and palaces, no city has achieved greater splendor or produced more brilliant art. The renowned scholar A. Richard Turner presents this popular art in a remarkably fresh and concise manner. In writing both erudite and spirited, he takes readers on a chronological and thematic tour of this extraordinary time and place. Unlike most books on Florence, this one provides a richly detailed context for the making of art, its display, and its meaning.
When Michelangelo left Florence for Rome in 1534, the Medici tombs were unfinished, but there was no question of another sculptor being brought in to complete them. They were already icons of artistic perfection, which it would be sacrilege for anyone else to touch. That eminence they retain to this day. The two seated Medici Dukes and the reclining figures of Night, Day, Dawn and Dusk are among the most famous sculptures in the world, endlessly copied and universally recognisable.