The ultimate book on Raphael E-Book

Eugène Müntz

• Herausgeber: Parkstone International
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Seitenzahl: 367

Beschreibung

The ultimate book on Raphael

Leseprobe

Author:

Eugène Müntz

© Confidential Concepts, worldwide, USA

© Parkstone Press International, New York, USA

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All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or adapted without the permission of the copyright holder, throughout the world. Unless otherwise specified, copyright on the works reproduced lies with the respective photographers, artists, heirs or estates. Despite intensive research, it has not always been possible to establish copyright ownership. Where this is the case, we would appreciate notification.

ISBN: 978-1-78310-500-7

Eugène Müntz

Contents

HIS LIFE

Raphael in Urbino, Perugia, and Siena

Drawings 1483-1503

Raphael in Florence

Drawings 1504-1507

Raphael in Rome under Julius II

Drawings 1508-1512

Raphael in Rome under Leo X

Drawings 1513-1515

Raphael the Architect and His Final Years

Drawings 1516-1520

MASTERWORKS

Introduction

Umbria

Florence

Rome

Drawings Notebook

BIOGRAPHY

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

NOTES

HIS LIFE

Raphael in Urbino, Perugia, and Siena

The Town of Urbino and the Montefeltro Dynasty

The little duchy of Urbino, which had the honour of giving birth at a few years’ interval to the greatest of modern architects and the greatest of modern painters, Bramante and Raphael, is situated in the centre of the Apennines, at the point where Tuscany and Umbria meet. Few Italian provinces have more varied scenery, for there fertile and smiling hills suddenly start up into abrupt mountains, and while in one place the horizon is shut in by fantastic peaks, in another the eye can penetrate to the vast panorama of the Adriatic.

In the second half of the 15th century, the duchy of Urbino was governed by the valiant and enlightened dynasty of the Montefeltros. Duke Frederick, who died in 1482, a year before the birth of Raphael, had fascinated all Italy by his exploits and splendour. He was a commander of the highest order, the worthy pupil of Piccinino, and the almost-invariably-successful adversary of Sigismund Malatesta, the “enemy of God and man.”

The Montefeltros were not ashamed to be mercenaries, or condottieri, and the title of Gonfalonier of the Church, conferred in later years upon the son of Duke Frederick by Pope Julius II, was only a complimentary one. But no one could have carried out his engagements with more chivalrous fidelity and dignity than Frederick, whose court was frequented by young Italian noblemen who wished to become familiar with all that belongs to a soldier’s calling, and to fit themselves for the duties of statesmanship.

Frederick of Urbino’s chief claim, however, to the regard of his contemporaries and of posterity, was the protection which he extended to literature and art. His was the golden age of the Renaissance, and the sincerity of his enthusiasm and the great sacrifices which he made for it have won for Duke Frederick of Montefeltro a place beside its two noblest champions, Pope Nicholas V and King Alfonso V of Naples. M. Rio, in his work on Christian art, puts the Urbinate prince even above the Medici, for it is difficult to believe that the encouragement given to new ideas by those financiers, who were so eager to place their country under the yoke of despotism, could have been exempt from selfish calculations while the Duke of Urbino had no need for devices to secure the affections of his subjects, whose cry of “God preserve our good Duke” came from the bottom of their hearts.

Frederick’s son, Guidobaldo, born in 1472, carried on the traditions of his father. Brought up by the learned Martinengo, he displayed from his earliest days a fondness for study, and both literature and art found in him a hearty patron.

His courage and good sense endeared him to his subjects, while his wife, Elisabetta Gonzaga, daughter of the Marchese di Mantua, helped, by her beauty and grace, to consolidate his hold upon their affections. The inhabitants of Urbino showed how attached they were to him when they rose, in 1503, against the tyranny of Cesare Borgia and brought Guidbaldo back.

Self-Portrait, 1506. Oil on wood, 47.5 x 33 cm. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence

Piero della Francesca, Portrait of Duke Federico da Montefeltro (right panel of a diptych), c. 1465. Oil on canvas, 47 x 33 cm. Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence

The Santi Family

The patient researches of a scholar of Urbino, Father Louis Pungileoni, have procured for us a very complete acquaintance with the family history of Raphael. His family belonged to a large village called Colbordolo, some few miles from the capital, and a person named Santi is known to have lived there in the 14th century. One of his descendants, the great-grandfather of Raphael, Pietro or Peruzzolo, was a merchant at Colbordolo a century later, and after the pillage of his house and lands by Sigismund Malatesta, in 1446, the fear of a second attack induced him to go and live in Urbino in 1450. He died there seven years later, and his son carried on his business, also opening a shop for the sale of groceries, hardware, and so forth. His trade seems to have prospered, for he had saved enough by 1463 to buy for 200 ducats, a house, or rather two houses situated close together, in one of those steep streets of which there are so many in Urbino, the Contrada del Monte.[1] This modest dwelling was destined to become famous, for it was here that Raphael was born.

In a letter addressed to Duke Guidobaldo, Giovanni Santi, the son of Santi and the father of Raphael, dwells in some detail upon the difficulties of his early life, beginning with the destruction of his home by Sigismund Malatesta, and going on to speak of the hard work he had to earn a livelihood. He ultimately selected the noblest of careers, that of an artist, and he becomes enthusiastic when he speaks of the marvellous and very famous art of painting (la mirabile, la clarissima arte de pictura). Notwithstanding the anxieties arising from the maintenance of his family, he did not regret his decision though he often found very heavy a burden which, to use his own words, would have appalled Atlas himself.

At what date Giovanni Santi began to work on his own account is uncertain, but we know that by the year 1469 he had his studio in Urbino, and in that year he was entrusted with the duty of receiving as a guest Piero della Francesca, one of the most famous representatives of the Florentine School, who had been summoned by the Brotherhood of the Corpus Domini to execute an altarpiece. Thinking that he would be more comfortable in the house of a fellow artist than at an inn, they asked Santi to lodge him, and though the latter’s pride must have suffered at finding a stranger selected to paint in the city in preference to himself, he received the Florentine with a good grace, and afterwards praised his talents in his Rhymed Chronicle of Urbino.

Giovanni Santi was, in all likelihood, past his first youth when he married Magia Ciarla, the daughter of a well-to-do tradesman of Urbino. From this marriage was born on April 6, 1483, the boy who was destined to shed such lustre on the name of Santi.

The first picture which Giovanni Santi painted after the birth of his son was an altarpiece for the Church of Gradara, and in this work, which was completed on April 10, 1484, when Raphael was only a year old, the face of Jesus, who is represented as sitting on his mother’s knee, is very beautiful. His face, figure, and attitude all remind us of the ‘putti’ which are to be found in so many of Raphael’s compositions, and which are the most perfect expression of infancy. Another painting, a fresco still preserved in the house of the Santis, represents a young woman sitting in front of a desk and holding on her knees a child asleep with his head resting on his left arm. Much injured as this picture is, it still retains traces of its primitive beauty, and the marked individuality of the features, coupled with the absence of a halo, justifies the belief that this is a picture not of the Virgin and Child but of the painter’s wife and son.[2]

Giovanni Santi, The Virgin and Child, c. 1488. Egg and oil on wood, 68 x 49.8 cm. National Gallery, London

Giovanni Santi, Sacra Conversazione with the Resurrection of Christ, 1481. Fresco, 420 x 295 cm. Cagli Tiranni Chapel, Church of San Domenico, Urbino

Giovanni Santi, St Jerome Enthroned (detail), 15th century. Tempera on wood panel, 189 x 168 cm. Pinacoteca Vaticana, Musei Vaticani, Vatican City

Giovanni Santi, Christ Supported by Two Angels, c. 1490. Oil on panel, transferred onto canvas, 67 x 55 cm. Szépművészeti Múzeum, Budapest

In 1485 Giovanni Santi lost, at a few weeks’ interval, his father and one of his sons, probably older than Raphael; the archives of Urbino give us some idea as to the pecuniary position of the family at this period. The father of Giovanni left his two daughters a hundred ducats each, to his son Bartolommeo, who was a priest, seventy ducats, and the remainder of his fortune, including his house, to Giovanni himself. His widow, Elisabetta, continued to live with her son Giovanni, who also found room for his sister Santa when she lost her husband, who was a tailor by trade. Santa had a little money of her own, and as Giovanni earned a certain amount, their position was relatively prosperous. But fresh trouble was in store for him, as his mother died on October 3, 1491, her death being followed only four days later by that of his beloved wife, while on the 25th of the same month his infant daughter also died. Raphael at that time was only eight years old.

Giovanni found a solitary life unendurable, and a few months later, on May 25, 1492, he contracted a new marriage, his second wife, Bernardina Parte, daughter of a goldsmith in Urbino, bringing him a dowry of 200 florins. From the disputes which afterwards occurred between Bernardina and her husband’s family it is to be inferred that she was not of so gentle a disposition as Magia, and that she was scarcely a mother to Raphael. The union, however, was not of long duration, for Giovanni died two years after his second marriage, on August 1, 1494. In his will, dictated two days before his death, he appointed his brother Bartolommeo guardian of Raphael and of the child of which his wife was expecting to be delivered, providing that she should have the use of the house as long as she remained a widow. The total amount of his property was 860 florins.

Some documents recently discovered by the Marchese Campori, of Modena, throw fresh light upon the history of Raphael’s father during the last years of his life, showing that he was in communication with the princely family,[3] and that the Duchess Elisabetta had employed him to paint her portrait and that of someone attached to the court of the Gonzagas, probably Bishop Louis of Mantua. His death prevented him from completing these two works, and the letter by which the Duchess announced the sad news to her sister-in-law, the Marchesa di Mantua (August 19, 1494), proves that he was no stranger to her, for she writes, “Giovanni de’ Santi, painter, succumbed about three weeks ago; he died in full possession of his senses, and at peace with all men. May God have mercy on his soul!”

A letter written seven weeks later (October 13, 1494) gives further details. This letter is written by the Duchess to her brother, the Marchese di Mantua, and she says:

In reply to the despatch which Your Excellency sent me, I write to inform you that when Giovanni Santi was with you he was too ill to complete the portrait, and the same reason prevented him from going on with mine. If Your Excellency will send me a plate like the others, I will have my portrait painted upon it by a skilful artist whom I am expecting here, and send it to you as soon as it is finished... I have ordered the companion of the said Giovanni to make search for it diligently, but he tells me that he can find nothing.

When, ten years later, the sister-in-law of Duchess Elisabetta, Jeanne di Montefeltro, spoke, in a letter of introduction which she gave Raphael for the Gonfalonier Pietro Soderini, of Florence, of her regard for his father, it was not a mere formality, but the expression of her real sentiments. This, as will be seen hereafter, explains much that was hitherto obscure in Raphael’s history.

The town of Urbino and the neighbouring cities, as well as several public galleries, notably the Lateran in Rome, the Brera in Milan, the National Gallery in London, and the Berlin Gallery, still contain pictures by Giovanni Santi. Most of them are Annunciations, Madonnas, Holy Families, or likenesses of Apostles or saints. There are a few portraits, too, but the originals are not as a rule known. Santi’s art moved in a rather narrow groove, but the spirit of his work and the qualities which he displayed are worthy of respect.

He showed, too, that he was familiar with the methods of Paolo Uccello, who was painting in Urbino in 1468, and of Piero della Francesca, Andrea Mantegna, Melozzo da Forli, and Perugino. The influence of the two latter is to be traced in nearly all his pictures. His works are full of body and well balanced; what they are mainly deficient in is warmth of tone. There is grace, and in some cases no little energy, in his faces, and his conceptions have an air of sincerity, while here and there may be discerned a touch which reminds one of his son – a part of a head or an attitude which the latter may have unconsciously reproduced years afterwards.

This sketch of the character and talents of Giovanni Santi would be incomplete if we did not say something about the poet as well as the painter. The Rhymed Chronicle, which is now in the Vatican Library, has been published in part by Passavant and provides us with evidence as to his erudition and eclecticism.

Eusebius of Cremonia Raising Three Men from the Dead with St Jerome’s Cloak (predella of the Gavari Crucifixion altarpiece), 1502-1503. Oil on wood, 26 x 44 cm. Museu Nacional de Arte Antiga, Lisbon

Giovanni Antonio Boltraffio and Marco d’Oggioni, The Resurrection of Christ with Sts Leonard of Noblac and Lucia, c. 1491. Oil on poplar wood, 234.5 x 185.5 cm. Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Berlin

At the time of his father’s death, Raphael was not twelve years old. There is a certain affinity between the works of father and son. The Annunciation in the Brera Museum, that at Cagli, the St Jerome Enthroned in the Vatican Museum, to mention only well-known works of Giovanni Santi, are remarkable for a purity and harmony of line which dimly foreshadow the immortal painter of the Vatican. It is probable, moreover, that Raphael received lessons from his father, as at that time painters went through an apprenticeship of fifteen years. Allowing three or four years for the regular apprenticeship, and as much for the journeyman stage, by sixteen a young man might thus have completed his studies.

Supposing Raphael to have been no exception to this rule, he may very well have begun to draw, and have received lessons from his father, before the latter’s death. But it is impossible to accept Vasari’s statement that the son assisted the father in the execution of his later works, for he was only eleven years old when his father died, and rapid as the development of his talent may have been, that would have been simply miraculous.

It is probable that the remarkable drawing in the Academy at Venice, the Massacre of the Innocents, was executed by Raphael under his father’s superintendence. Amid much that is childlike in its inexperience, we can detect a force of inspiration and purity of taste which shows how great was Raphael’s promise from his earliest years, and how much he had benefited by his father’s teaching.

What we have said as to the tastes of Giovanni Santi renders it certain that his son received, in addition to careful artistic teaching, a sound literary education. The Italian artists of the 15th century were, as a rule, less ignorant than is generally supposed, and it would be difficult to name one who could not read or write. Bramante himself, whose education had been much neglected, and who was called “illiterate” by his contemporaries, wrote excellent sonnets, and this will show the extent of knowledge possessed by those who were able to complete their studies. In looking over the collection of autographs of the Italian artists of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance published by Messrs Milanesi and Pini, we see that the writing is in some instances clumsy, and the spelling incorrect; but there is a vast difference between awkwardness and complete ignorance. Compared with that of his contemporaries Raphael’s writing is remarkable for its elegance and correctness. We can see that he was accustomed to the pen. He also learnt the rudiments of Latin. It will be objected, perhaps, that in after years he got his friend Fabio Calvo of Ravenna to translate Vitruvius for him; but there is a great difference between having a general knowledge of a language and being well up in the technical terms which abound in the Treatise on Architecture.

By his father’s death, Raphael not only lost an instructor and guide, but was compelled to listen to continual disputes about money. Dom Bartolommeo, his uncle and guardian, and his stepmother, to whom had been born a daughter called Elisabetta, so frequently quarrelled about money that the law had to intervene, and without laying the whole blame upon the widow of Giovanni Santi, it is to be noted that Raphael, when once he had left them, did not keep up any very intimate communication with her or her daughter, and never alludes to them in his letters. Fortunately he was much liked by his mother’s family, and his uncle Simone Ciarla showed him kindness, for which he never failed to express his gratitude. When in his letters he speaks of his uncle as being as dear as a father (“carissimo in loco di padre”) it was more than one of those formal expressions, such as were used at that time, and his aunt Santa, his father’s sister, who continued to reside in the house after his father’s death, also took much interest in his welfare. Raphael in after years gave one of his dearest friends, the Florentine Taddeo Taddei, who proposed to pay a visit to Urbino, a letter of recommendation to her, and it is pleasant to find that the great painter never forgot his humble relatives.

If the money quarrels which followed his father’s death left a painful impression upon his early youth, he was at all events exempt from privation. It is true that his inheritance was not large enough to admit of his studying art as a mere amateur, and that he had to fight his way to independence and wealth. But it was something to be able to pursue his studies without being compelled to think of the morrow, as was the case with his future teacher, Perugino, who, according to Vasari, was so poor that for many months he had no bed but a wooden chest.

Piero della Francesca, The Resurrection of Christ, c. 1460. Fresco and distemper, 225 x 200 cm. Museo Civico di Sansepolcro, Sansepolcro

The Resurrection of Christ, 1499-1502. Oil on wood, 52 x 44 cm. Museu de Arte, São Paulo

Raphael’s Departure for Perugia

It was believed until quite recently that Raphael entered the studio of Perugino in 1495, but this date is incorrect, for Perugino, between 1493 and 1499, resided chiefly in Florence, and not in Perugia. Though he may have come to the latter town now and again, he did not stay long, and only took up his residence there towards the end of 1499, when he began the frescoes of the famous Sala delle Udienze del Collegio del Cambio. On the other hand, we know that Raphael was recorded, in the registers of Urbino, as being present in his native town on June 5, 1499, and that in the following year the registrar wrote the word “absent” against his name.

His admission into the studio of Perugino must, therefore, have been four or five years later than was generally supposed, that is to say, when he was about sixteen years old. But if upon this point, preconceived views are erroneous, there is ample confirmation of what has previously been said with regard to his début in Perugia, in which town he received his first lessons and acquired the methods of the Umbrian School.

How the interval between the death of Giovanni Santi and Raphael’s departure for Perugia was passed we do not know, but perhaps – though it is only a guess – he received lessons from Timoteo Viti, who returned to Urbino in 1495, after having studied for some time in Bologna in the studio of Francia, and this is the more likely as they were very intimate friends.

When Raphael rose to greatness he did not forget the friend of his youth, but sent for him to come to Rome to assist in the painting of the Sibyls in the Church of Santa Maria della Pace. After Viti’s return to Urbino, he was more than once asked by Raphael to pay him a second visit, as we learn from Vasari, who saw the letters which Raphael wrote to him. It may be added that Viti, who imitated Raphael’s style very well, owned a fine collection of drawings given to him by the latter, and the finest Raphaels in the Crozat collection were derived from the accumulations which were kept intact until 1714 by Viti’s descendents.

If in some respects Raphael’s new residence was less desirable than Urbino, he was much better off as regards the beauty of the surrounding scenery and the varied nature of the impressions to be derived from it. Here, too, he was able to inhale the bracing mountain air and to gaze upon sites full of poetic beauty. Situated in the heart of Umbria and overlooking the plain, Perugia, the ancient Augusta Perusia, forms as it were the centre of an immense amphitheatre.

Hillside, Perugia, date unknown

Main Square, Perugia, date unknown

There are few grander panoramas in all Italy than that which is to be seen at a short distance from the plantation of thick evergreen oaks on the Piazza di San Pietro outside the walls. The view extends without a break on three sides, being only limited in the direction of the town. In the distance is to be seen a sea of undulating mountains, rising one above the other until they form a vast rampart upon the horizon. When the sun lights up these gigantic masses, the eye can detect the smallest undulations of ground and almost count the infrequent spots of verdure upon the rocky soil. But towards evening the landscape is veiled by those delicate mists which lend so much charm to Perugino’s pictures – especially to the frescoes of the Cambio – and to the earlier productions of Raphael. At the feet of the spectator extend hills, covered with fig trees, olive trees, and vines climbing around the stems of the elms, and white and dusty roads are to be seen winding amidst dark-green and iron-grey foliage.

Looking towards Perugia, the view, though different, is no less picturesque. Houses, palaces, and churches rise one above the other upon the incline, the highest standing against a background of mountains.

In the 15th century, as now, the traffic was almost entirely confined to the square in front of the municipal palace, the Corso. The principal buildings are all crowded into a very small compass. First there is the Cambio, the hall of the ancient corporation of money-changers, made famous by the frescoes of Perugino. By the side of this edifice, modest in its proportions, rises the Signorial Palace, with its battlements, its long rows of gothic windows divided in half by mullions of red granite and surmounted by white marble copings. In spite of its irregular facade, few Italian buildings are more imposing in appearance; among the notable features of the interior is the grand staircase with its two lions in white marble at the foot, emblematic guardians of the public liberties, and at the head its griffin and she-wolf in bronze to perpetuate the memory of the victory won by Perugia over her ancient rival Siena. Recollections of victory in the field are also evoked by the Loggia of the merchants, which was built in 1423 by one of Perugia’s bravest sons, the famous condottiere, Braccio Fortebraccio. Then there is the beautiful fountain carved in 1277 by Giovanni Pisano, while at the cathedral, which forms the western boundary of the square, may still be seen the balcony from which St Bernardino of Siena harangued the vast crowds which flocked in from all parts of Umbria, and who, finding the interior of the building too small, stood outside, as in the time of the Crusades, to listen to the popular preacher. These memories were still fresh when Raphael came to live in Perugia, and they must have taken root in his mind.

Considering the rough manners of the aristocracy and the attachment of the middle classes to the customs and beliefs of another age, the intellectual resources of Perugia must have appeared to the young painter very inferior to those of Urbino, where poetry, science, and art were held in such high esteem. It would be a mistake, however, to regard the old Umbrian city as being altogether outside the sphere of the ideas which were then stirring the whole of Italy. Its university had a well-deserved reputation, and in the 15th century included amongst its professors one Pope, Sixtus IV, and two others, Pius III and Julius II, among its students.

From an artistic point of view the difference between Urbino and Perugia was equally great, for while the former was ruled by high-minded princes who exercised an irresistible influence over the whole population, the latter was inhabited by turbulent and bloodthirsty nobles, and by a middle-class population at once hard-working and austere. The Montefeltros, moreover, were very tolerant in their views on art, having employed in turn painters of such different schools as Paolo Uccello, Piero della Francesca, Justus of Ghent, Giovanni Santi, Luca Signorelli, and Timoteo Viti, while in Perugia there was something like a close body of painters all belonging to one school. In spite of his long residence in Florence and Rome, Pietro Perugino was deeply attached to the Umbrian school, into which, however, he introduced several fresh elements. The sciences of colouring and perspective were by him carried to a higher pitch of perfection than they had ever been before.

There was something very exclusive and absorbing about Umbrian art, for excursions into the secular world, and above all, into the ancient classics, were forbidden to its adepts by religious scruples, as well as by want of knowledge. Examples of portraiture and purely-historical compositions seem also to have been excluded from it.

On the other hand, a painter could be certain that his work would, if executed in good faith, be favourably received in a society so profoundly attached to its religious creed. He knew that the least valuable of his Madonnas, and of his pictures representing Christ on the cross, would touch many a heart, and that the poorest villages and monasteries would find money for one of these saintly symbols. Humble peasants found it an ample reward for a long life of labour and privation, to present their village church with some picture which would stimulate piety, and a striking instance of this is afforded by the following anecdote: In 1507, a humble shoemaker of Perugia gave Perugino the order to paint a picture of the Madonna standing between St Francis and St Jerome, and the forty-seven ducats which the painter asked were paid without hesitation. The wars and disturbances which marked the close of the 15th century, so far from arresting the progress of art, favoured its development by exciting the religious feeling of the people. Again and again Perugino came from Florence to execute some new masterpiece for his native city.

St Sebastian, 1503. Oil on wood, 45 x 36 cm. Accademia Carrara di belle Arti, Bergamo

The Solly Madonna, c. 1502. Oil on wood, 52 x 38 cm. Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Berlin

Madonna and Child with Book, c. 1502-1503. Oil on wood, 55.2 x 40 cm. Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena

The Holy Family, or Madonna with the Beardless Joseph, 1505-1507. Oil and tempera on wood, transferred onto canvas, 72.5 x 56.5 cm. The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg

The conditions of apprenticeship at the time when Raphael entered the studio of Perugino are well known to us. Parents of apprentices incurred heavy obligations. Thus when the father of Sodoma, in 1490, apprenticed his son, then ten years old, to a painter of no great celebrity, he had to pay a sum of fifty ducats for the term of seven years. The latter, for his part, undertook to lodge, board, and instruct his pupil and, as was characteristic of the times, to find him clothes. The conditions of the journeymen painters were of course much more favourable for beginners, and when Raphael’s compatriot, Timoteo Viti, placed himself under the famous Bologna painter and goldsmith, Francesco Francia, it was agreed that he should work the first year for nothing, that during the second he should receive sixteen florins a quarter, and that afterwards he should work by the piece, with the power of leaving if he pleased. We know, too, that Francia had two separate studios, one for the goldsmith apprentices and the other for the painters. This is how he writes of the departure of Timoteo Viti: “1495, 4th April. Departure of my dear Timoteo. May God pour upon him all manner of good things.”

Timoteo Viti was about twenty years of age when he entered Francia’s studio, and Raphael about seventeen when he was taken in hand by Perugino; both knew the rudiments of art, and what they wanted from their teachers was advice and direction rather than elementary instruction. Bearing in mind their age, they must have been companions (garzoni) rather than pupils (discepoli).

Perugino and his wife were in comfortable circumstances, for the latter’s father had given his daughter a dowry of 500 gold ducats, while Perugino owned houses and land in Florence, Perugia, and Città della Pieve. He had neither the culture nor the vast intelligence of Bramante, Leonardo da Vinci, or Michelangelo. His letters show that he knew little of orthography, and a report which he prepared in Florence in 1492, after making a valuation, is a tissue of blunders; even from an artistic point of view his abilities did not take a wide sweep. He was a painter and nothing more, whereas most of his contemporaries were more or less proficient as goldsmiths, architects, and sculptors. He had, however, travelled a great deal and been in the society of the most remarkable men of the day, so that he was a pleasant companion for young men such as those he had around him. Vasari states that Raphael from the first became a favourite with his master, while the pupil on his part displayed an almost-filial affection for Perugino.

When Raphael came to Perugia, Perugino’s wife, the beautiful Clara Fancelli, daughter of the Marchese di Mantua’s famous architect, was still alive. Her portrait may, in the opinion of competent judges, be seen in the splendid Madonna of Pavia. About this time Raphael probably also met the goldsmith Cesarino di Francesco Rossetti, of Perugia, for whom he afterwards made, while in Rome, drawings for some dishes intended for Agostino Chigi. In a letter written to Domenico Alfani in 1508, the painter speaks of him in very friendly terms. To the painters, whom we know to have been in Perugia while Raphael was studying there, that is to say, between 1499 and 1502, must be added the pupils attracted to the place by the fame of Perugino and those whose acquaintance Raphael afterwards made either in Perugia or in its suburbs; such, for instance, as Giovanni di Pietro, surnamed Lo Spagna, whose works betoken the influence which Perugino and his fellow pupil had exercised, and who afterwards came to Rome and swelled the phalanx of Raphael’s assistants; Girolamo Genga da Urbino, who was also with Raphael in Rome, and Domenico di Paris Alfani.

Raphael became especially intimate with Pinturicchio, whose presence in Perugia during the year 1501 is attested by authentic documents. He afterwards followed him to Siena. Pinturicchio, though inferior to Perugino as regards colour and expression, had more imaginative power, and his influence contributed in no small degree to open to Raphael wider horizons than those unfolded to him by Perugino. But if Raphael was indebted to him for good advice, he repaid the debt with interest, as we shall see.

Criticism long exercised itself in trying to distinguish between the hand of the master and that of the pupil in the works issued from Perugino’s studio between 1499 and 1502. The most practised connoisseurs feel doubts before certain pictures, but it is difficult to confound drawings by the master with those by the pupil. The former are infinitely more archaic, and far more careless.

When Raphael left Perugino, in 1502, he had learnt all that the Umbrian had to teach. Neither oil nor fresco painting had any secrets for him. In later years his brush acquired more freedom and power, but it lost some of the fine qualities of its earlier days. His colour became less warm and luminous, and it lost that fine, amber tone which it had at first. But if Perugino was of benefit to Raphael as a master of colour and technical methods generally, his influence was injurious in draughtsmanship, design, and imagination. No painter ever had fewer ideas than he. His genius was essentially contemplative, and to that perhaps we owe some of his pupil’s grace, tenderness, and love for nature.

The fame of Pinturicchio has long been overshadowed by that of his more famous fellow-countryman. But if Perugino was the greater painter, Bernardino di Betto, to give him his right name, had the more active imagination, the more inquiring mind. It has now been established, mainly through the discoveries of the Commendatore Morelli, that Raphael studied Pinturicchio almost as much as he did Perugino. According to some admirers of Pinturicchio,The Virgin and Child with Sts Jerome and Francis, in London, and the Coronation of the Virgin, in the Vatican, are only cartoons by Pinturicchio translated into paint by the younger master.

When Perugino returned to Tuscany, Raphael was nineteen years of age, and old enough to begin work on his own account. His master, who was at that time overwhelmed with orders, doubtless recommended him strongly to his own friends and patrons in Umbria, and it was owing to their spirit of generous piety that he was able to execute some of his most admired pictures.

Pietro Perugino, The Virgin and Child with Sts Jerome and Francis, c. 1507-1515. Oil on wood, 185.5 x 152.5 cm. National Gallery, London

Pinturicchioandworkshop, The Virgin and Child with the Infant St John the Baptist, 1490-1500. Oil on panel, 79 x 80.6 cm. Museo Poldi Pezzoli, Milan

Madonna and Child, or Conestabile Madonna, c. 1504. Tempera on wood, transferred onto canvas, 17.5 x 18 cm. The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg

The Small Cowper Madonna, c. 1505. Oil on panel, 59.5 x 44 cm. Widener Collection, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C

Notwithstanding his lofty intelligence and distinguished manners, we must imagine Raphael leading all this time the modest and bourgeois life of his master and comrades. Until the beginning of the 16th century the most celebrated artists were always classed in the same category as artisans, or, to speak more accurately, there was no distinction between the two. It needed all the force of the genius of Bramante, Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Raphael, and the tenacious will of Julius II and Leo X, to overcome deep-rooted prejudices and to raise this class of men to the same rank as that occupied by other representatives of thought.

Raphael began, of course, with pictures of small dimensions, and subjects which did not require a very high degree of knowledge. His earliest efforts were a series of half-length Madonnas; in most of them the Virgin, who is drawn full face, is standing looking down on her child. What is noteworthy in these works is the sincerity of the efforts made by the young artist to strike out a line for himself. The influence of his master, like that of his father, declined from year to year, one may almost say from month to month, until at last he had created a style of his own.

Raphael, during all this early period, was, however, compelled to take into account the demands of the Umbrian public. For a Madonna or a Holy Family to awaken feelings of sympathy in the minds of this primitive people it was necessary that neither the costume, the attributes, nor even the attitudes of the figures depicted should differ from the types to which they had grown accustomed.

Raphael soon had more important work entrusted to him, for shortly after the departure of his master, a lady belonging to one of the most powerful families of Perugia, Maddalena degli Oddi, instructed him to paint for the Church of St Francis the Crowning of the Virgin. As the Oddis were banished after the fall of Caesar Borgia, in August 1503, this work, vast in its dimensions, must have been executed in the early part of that year.

The profound respect for nature is, as cannot too often be repeated, one of the distinctive traits of Raphael’s genius. It is the bond which unites him to the primitive and ‘quattrocentist’ artists, whereas in so many other respects he obeys no law but that of his own taste. He puts all his heart into the copying of a leaf or flower, and no artist was ever more enthusiastic about the beauties of creation. For the Coronation of St Nicholas of Tolentino and for the Coronation of the Virgin he first drew his figures from nature, with their close-fitting garments, caps, and cropped hair. It was only after he had done this that he arranged the draperies, and gave the required expression to the faces – in short, composed the picture.

Raphael’s Journey to Siena

The period between the years 1504 and 1508 is undoubtedly the most eventful one in Raphael’s life. We find him in Perugia, Città di Castello, Siena, Urbino, Florence, perhaps in Bologna, and then again in Perugia and Urbino, but the dates of these journeys cannot be fixed with certainty. While in Urbino he shares in all the ceremonies of a brilliant and enlightened court. He tries his hand at sacred and profane history, at portraits, easel-pictures, and frescoes. He is influenced by Masaccio, Signorelli, Leonardo da Vinci and Fra Bartolommeo; then he suddenly goes back to the Perugino manner, so that we are puzzled to follow the apparent contradictions of his ever growing genius.

The date of Raphael’s sojourn in Siena is uncertain, for Pinturicchio, who invited him to come and advise him in the painting of the frescoes which Cardinal Francesco Piccolomini had ordered for the Library, was several years at this work, off and on. He began and finished the decoration of the ceiling in 1503, but he does not appear to have commenced the side-walls before 1504; it was in the course of the same year that he painted a Nativity in the Church of San Francesco for the altar of Filippo Sergardi (the first owner of the Belle Jardinière), for which Raphael is said to have executed a predella. It is not, therefore, rash to conjecture that Raphael came to Siena in 1504, just as his friend was about to resume work in the Library.

Cardinal Piccolomini, afterwards Pius III, had requested Pinturicchio to reproduce in the town of Siena, so dear to the greatest of the Piccolomini family, the achievements of he who, after gaining celebrity in the world of letters and diplomacy under the name of Æneas Sylvius, became Pius II. Siena teemed with recollections of the illustrious pontiff who had raised so many splendid monuments in the town itself, in Pienza, and other neighbouring places. The only fault which an impartial historian could find with him – that he showed too much favour to his family and his native place, to the detriment of the Church and of Rome – was an additional merit in the eyes of the people of Siena. There was no one more popular in this ancient Republic.

The life of Pius II afforded ample scope for the graphic powers of Bernardino Pinturicchio. Born in Siena in 1405 of poor but noble parents, Æneas Sylvius became secretary of the Council of Basel, where he attracted notice by his attacks upon the legitimate Pope, then he became secretary to the Emperor Frederick III, poet laureate, amanuensis, and ambassador. During his long stay in Germany he set himself to study a country then very-little-known to his compatriots, and his letters and works of geography and history still give us the most correct and vivid picture of the German Empire in the 15th century.

Quitting Germany and becoming reconciled to the Church, he rapidly reached the highest honours, being proclaimed Pope in 1458, after having been Bishop of Siena, and then Cardinal. His reign was brief but brilliant; we find him at one and the same time engaged in restoring the authority of the Church, in organizing a crusade against the Turks, in writing, under the title of Commentaries, a history of his own time, and in perpetuating his memory by the erection of vast buildings. The Congress of Mantua, the foundation of the city of Pienza, the transfer to Rome, amid signs of indescribable enthusiasm, of the relics of St Andrew, his departure as Pope for a new Crusade – he only got as far as Ancona, where he died of grief at seeing the breakdown of the enterprise upon which he had concentrated his efforts for a quarter of a century – were all episodes calculated to stimulate the imagination of an artist.

The subjects selected for the frescoes on the walls of the Library amounted to ten in all. Commenced in 1504, this grand series was not completed until 1506. The best judges are of the opinion that Raphael had nothing to do with the actual execution of the frescoes in the Library, and that his share in the work was confined to giving Pinturicchio sketches of which the latter made use. Some critics have even, of late years, attempted to cast doubt on the theory that Raphael helped Pinturicchio in any way. But a series of designs of unquestionable authenticity corroborate the words of Vasari, to whom we owe our knowledge concerning the help given to Pinturicchio by Raphael. A comparison between the drawings and frescoes dispels all doubts, and shows the crushing superiority of the younger man.

Portrait of Pietro Bembo, 1503-1505. Oil on wood, 54 x 39 cm. Szépművészeti Múzeum, Budapest

Portrait of a Woman, or La Muta, c. 1505-1507. Oil on wood, 64 x 48 cm. Galleria Nazionale delle Marche, Palazzo Ducale, Urbino

La donna gravida, 1505-1506. Oil on panel, 68.8 x 52.7 cm. Palazzo Pitti, Florence

Il Sodoma (Giovanni Antonio Bazzi), The Women of Darius’s Family before Alexander the Great (detail), c. 1516. Fresco. Villa Farnesina, Rome

It was during his stay in Siena that Raphael seems for the first time to have found himself in the presence of a masterpiece of antique statuary. Struck by the beauty of The Three Graces, which Cardinal Piccolomini had transferred from Rome to the Siena Library, he made a copy of it, which is still preserved in the Academy of Fine Arts in Venice, and as might be expected is full of faults due to the artist’s inexperience. His efforts in Siena to vie with the original were fruitless, for he failed to reproduce the rounded and harmonious shapes of the marble. In Raphael’s drawing there is a meagreness and poverty about the head and neck of the figure to the left.