Reflections on the exhibit of late Medieval paintings at the MET in NYC- Brian Keeler
I love just about everything related to the Renaissance and Italy, so the show about paintings from Siena has been on my to do list for months. The current exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City is called, “Siena:The Rise of Painting 1300-1350” but it is really a show of the beginning of the Renaissance or rebirth of painting in the late 13th and early 14th century. Siena, the landlocked medieval city in Tuscany- central Italy, was the epicenter of a new flourishing of artistic growth, at this moment in history before the advance of artists in Florence in the next two centuries. As with sculpture, literature and architecture of the era they were plumbing the accomplishments of the ancients and bringing those abilities back to life and expression.
We attended this exhibit in January and it was packed with a crush of onlookers. There was a slow-moving cluster of people peering at each work. It is reassuring to see this level of interest and enthusiasm in art, yet we wonder about similar support and interest in contemporary art. It was a serendipitous occurrence to be next to a tall fellow who was conducting an informal private tour for two or three ladies. He was very knowledgeable and he explained nicely about the lack of aerial or linear perspective in one painting. These visual devices had not been invented or formulated yet when the Sienese of the trecento were working. So, eaevesdropping has its perks. It was interesting to note how the artist under discussion had still conveyed a sense of space without using those two techniques. That 1319 work by Duccio di Bouninsegna, a tempera on poplar panel titled, “The Temptation of Christ on the Mountain,” is shown below. Many of the works are small and intimate with lots of detail that require being up close to observe- and in many instances one could not linger as long as desired.
Above- The 1308-11 painting by the Sienese artist, Duccio di Buoninsegna titled, "The Temptation of Christ on the Mountain," was part of the exhibit at the MET in NYC.
The fact that we could see many of the reverse side of these paintings in this exhibit shows us the carpentry involved and the collaboration between the artists and craftsmen. They are often elaborate multi-panel works with complex geometric shapes that garner our appreciation. The extensive use of gold leaf over a red ground is appealing for the interactions of these two hues to suggest spiritual realms and illumination. But light itself is not so much part of these pre-Renaissance works, at least not in the sense of the Impressionists, Sargent, or many other painters of later centuries.
The show was an ambitious undertaking and it presented the pre-Renaissance gems so that we could see the front and back of these works that were designed as private devotional pieces or as altar assemblages, known as triptychs, or more often polyptychs- many paneled works. Some had paintings on both sides, while others folded up to allow for transport. This period is the genesis of the triptych and it was revived by artists in France during the Impressionist period- like Monet. I sometimes do triptychs and diptychs and I cite the Renaissance artists as the orginators to give a context and historical precedent to viewers who wonder why the image is divided into canvases or panels.
Above- The Pieve Polyptych by Pietro Lorenzetti of 1320. The darkness of the room with the expertly arranged lighting brought the paintings to life. We recall, however, that these works were created and originally displayed in natural light- often dark church interiors. This ensemble comes from a Church in nearby Arezzo. Each panel is over seven feet high, making it the largest early Renaissance painting ever shown in America. The Giotto in the Uffizi exceeds this height.
The curators also presented scupture in ivory, wood, marble as well as textiles, tableware and glassware. The benefit for viewers is to see how the arts related and inspired each other. As there was virtually no extant paintings from pre-Roman or Greek eras available, but a fair amount of statuary, one can see how the sculptors had the advantage in learning from previous masters.
The real benefit of the exhibit is consistent with the show’s title, The Rise of Painting. We can see the work of the artists of Siena in the early 1300’s emerging and evolving their paintings into the realm of pictorial space and articulation of detail, portrayal of form, human individuality, narrative content and so much more. However, I find myself siding with Georgio Vasari, the first art historian who chronicled these artists and other later generations in the 16th century in his book, “The Lives of the Artists.” He considered the art of the Byzantine and many of these proto-Renaissance artists to be lacking in the basics. I tend to agree. Hence, the term the Dark Ages, from the fall of Rome to the late Medieval period, during which so much knowledge and art was lost.
There are those who consider these works of medieval art to be more unique or of a distinctive style as they are not emulating previous accomplishments. That only goes so far, as the lack of basic understanding should not be touted as emblematic of artistic virtue or accomplishment.
For most of the works in the show we could marvel at the pictorial inventiveness and artistic strategies that develop. If not in the actual exhibit, one could begin to contemplate the scenes in the catalog while back home. And we are glad that the shackles of the Medieval period have been lifted. We now know that this early effloresence was thwarted in 1348 when the bubonic plague swept through Europe.
Viewing so many of these panel paintings with depictions of the Madonna and Christ in the same pose that had been used for centuries, we understand Vasari’s judgement. Yes, there are still aspects of these works to appreciate. I find the works of the 15th century in Florence much more rewarding and satisfying to behold. These early works by the artists featured include Duccio di Bouninsegna, Ambrogio Lorenzetti and Simone Martini and others who we appreciate for a variety of reasons but realize them to be a prequel. We can see why art at this time was regarded as a trade or a craft. Some of he paintings of this era fly in the face of our modern idea of expression and creativity. We appreciate Michelangelo’s effort to promote the “conceto” -or the conceptual thinking as perhaps the essential part of a painting. It certainly was for him. Prior to the Renaissance one could almost say that painting was in a rut for centuries and it took a cultural shift to evoke the slow growth to the rekindled ability found in the ancients- say in the fresco painters in Pompeii in the first century C.E..
Then there is the lack of observation or expression of their life, their world or feelings in these works prior to the Renaissance. These qualities of portraying life we take as essential to the art of today. And the remarkable work of the high Renaissance is what we all marvel at when visiting museums. We think of artists like Michelangelo and Leonardo who seemed to pride themselves in never repeating anything and always striving for growth. While the artists’ work shown here prior to the rebirth seemed to be content with just repeated formulaic patterns. We think of naïve artists who seem to lack the fundamentals as there are similarities. But the exhibit does indeed present the "rise in painting" so we do see many examples of burgeoning new sensibility and ability.
I have been reading the extensive catalog for this show and an accompanying text on Siena, which is a general history and travel memoir called “Siena- City of Secrets.” And another text that adds depth to the appreciation of Siena that I recently finished is James Hankins’ “Political Meritocracy in Renaissance Italy- The Virtuous Republic of Siena."
To underscore the title of my essay- the idea of depicting historical space, here is what the New York Review of Books article had to say, by Andrew Butterfield, he's referring to later Florentine artists:
Yet very often they were looking to Siena as well for models of excellence in painting and sculpture, from naturalism to the convincing depiction of three-dimensional space to power in the portrayal of human emotion. We can see this in Ghiberti's emulation of Ambrogio Lorenzetti, Donatello's love of Giovani Pisano and Fra Angelico's study of Duccio and Simone Martini.
Reading the catalog after attending the show is rewarding and revealing, although rather dry as catalogs usually are- filled with so much about provenance that makes the read at times rather a slog. But we appreciate the amazing scholarship, curatorial acumen and collaboration on an impressive international scale that makes such a show possible. The more engaging read comes in the text which was sold next to the catalog, the book by Jane Tyler, "Siena – City of Secrets." She goes into the fascinating history of such aspects of Siena being a city of the Francigena or pilgrim’s path that lead from northern France to Rome. And the fact that there is little or no water available in Siena, which required a vast network of underground tunnels to be built called Bottini. Even more stimulating is James Hankins’ book mentioned above that goes into the relationship of fostering civic virtue. Virtue is even connected to the architecture, which can foster humanity in its better impulses. We think of Lorenzetti’s fresco of the Allegory of Good Government.
Above- The author sketching and taking notes from the folding polyptych painting known as the "Orsini Polyptych" by Simone Martini. This portable altar piece was displayed to show both inner and outer panels.
I have been expressing some reservations about medieval art, sometimes called Italo-Byzantine, along with sharing enthusiasm for the revitalized trajectory Duccio and later Giotto began. But to balance the scales, I recall being thunderstruck when first seeing the three huge masterpieces in the Uffizi in Florence by Giotto, Duccio and Cimabue. Even though their styles were somewhat alien I could feel the power. This effect of swooning over art in Florence is sometimes called Stendahl's Syndrome. Here is what the New Yorker Magazine's Jackson Arn had to say in this regard:
“Take nothing for granted.” We can’t feel the full trecento shock of axial perspective anymore, but even the most familiar parts of these images still land with a slap. That’s the power of Duccio di Buoninsegna, the most famous painter here as well as the most influential, having likely employed some or all of the other big ones, Simone Martini and the brothers Pietro and Ambrogio Lorenzetti.
Some upacking of Arn's commentary- He's referring to the birth of one-point perspective here and the complete transforming effect it had when it came into use. We can't feel the shock of this trecento (or later) occurence (the 1300's) as we are so used to it.
Some of my favorite paintings in Siena, (not in the MET show) which are from the 15th century mostly, have been viewed in the museum across from the Duomo, in a former hospital, the spedale, reputed to be the first hospital in Europe. These works feature an entire room of frescoes by Domenico di Bartolo of scenes within the hospital. They are consummate masterpieces of perspective, observation of life within the hospital with complex and well-studied depictions of people. There is one large oil painting in another room that is wonderfully left in the underpainting stage depicting the burning of Rome with Nero shown with Lyre.
Above- A painting in the Museum in Siena that was once a hospital - now called Santa Maria delle Scale. This fresco painting by Domenico di Bartolo represents the art of Siena from the next century after those paintings of the Met exhibit, the 1400's.
Pleasantly, the exhibit has elicited reflections on our times in Siena and nearby locations like Montereggioni, a castle town, which we just happened on while motoring toward Siena. We stayed a night in this wonderful walled town about 10 miles outside of Siena. This medieval town gets a mention in Dante's Divine Comedy. On another occasion we spent several days in another castle, the Ripa d’Orcia in the Val d’Orcia, a river valley. We had the entire place to ourselves where I availed myself of the views and painted a still life through our window- making a connection to the Renaissance theorist, Leon Battista Alberti who suggested that paintings be regarded as windows. See the example at the bottom.
The show at the MET brings us a late-medieval aspect of spirituality and the divine. We tend not to think of this so much in the context of a museum rather than in the churches where these paintings were first displayed. All were intended to foster epiphanies or be beneficial for the soul we can assume. The preponderance of sorrow, such as Christ suffering on the cross and the martyrdom of other saints could make one think that there is too much emphasis on evil and oppressive biblical accounts. Devils proliferate. The famous native martyr of Siena is Saint Catherine of Siena, who is always portrayed with her method of death, a ghastly wheel with spikes.
In regards to museum viewing of religious art versus in the original context, here is what the NY Times reviewer Hollander Cotter thought in his review of Oct. 12, 2024:
These museums seem to have developed a problem with presenting religious art, as if unsure of what to do with it, how to pitch it. This isn’t true for non-Western work — from Africa, say, or Asia — which can still be spun as loosely and exotically “spiritual.” But Western religious art, specifically Christian art, which fits less and less comfortably into an increasingly secularizing public culture, is different. We may now be in a position of knowing it both too well, and not well enough.
This show coincided with another exhibit at the MET of Tibetan mandala painting from roughly the same era. Those works, mostly complex geometries with minimal figurative representations, had another goal, to dispel ignorance and foster enlightenment. This interesting comparison of two religions that were not aware of the other is worth contemplating. One focuses on sin, damnation and retribution to cajole the faithful toward virtue and the divine. The other offers visuals for meditation and techniques to assist with the reduction of suffering on earth while preparing for death. This, however, is fodder for another essay.
Above- an oil painting by the author done near Siena overlooking the Val d'Orcia. The painting was inspired by the writing of Leon Batista Aleberti, the Renaissance theorist who conceived of the idea of a painting being a metaphor for a window.
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