Recenzje
663
which was then the altarpiece for the chapel at
Lorenzo de’ Medici’s villa at Careggi, in particular.
Filippino’s debt to northern art, shown also in the
landscapes of his early Adoration of the Magi
(London, National Gallery; 69) and in the landscape
vignette copied from Jan van Eyck that he supplied
to the Adoration (68), also in the National Gallery,
London, on which he collaborated with Botticelli, is
an example of the generał interest shown by
Florentine artists in the 1470s in Netherlandish art.
The parallel Yenetian debts to northern art were the
primary focus of the Palazzo Grassi exhibition, but
this was an aspect of Florentine art at the time that
was neglected in the London exhibition. This lack
was emphasised by the noteworthy absence of any
works by the young Domenico Ghirlandaio, whose
debt in his Ognissanti St Jerome to a van Eyckian
prototype (very probably the St Jerome now in
Detroit, included in the Palazzo Grassi exhibition) is
very evident. Despite this lacuna, however, this was
a fine exhibition, which unusually (for the National
Gallery) but necessarily brought together works in
many media, illustrated all facets of ‘the art of the
1470s’, one of the most enterprising and inventive
decades in early-Renaissance Florentine art.
The huge exhibition on the theme of U Rinascimento
a Venezia e la pittura del Nord ‘ai tempi di Bellini,
Diirer, Tiziano’, on display at the Palazzo Grassi,
Venice was principally of paintings, with a few smali
rooms devoted to drawings and engravings. There
were morę than two hundred works on display, and it
is clearly not possible to do justice here to all the
effective juxtapositions that were madę. The
exhibition covered a much wider chronological span
than the London exhibition, and sought to
demonstrate the interdependence of Venice and its
neighbours - especially its trading partners north of
the Alps - throughout the Renaissance period.
However, it became gradually less coherent as it
moved further into the 16th century, with various
paintings that appeared to have little morę to do than
fili spaces on the walls. This review will therefore
concentrate on the earlier rooms, in which paintings
belonging to the same era as those in the London
exhibition were displayed.
The first work to meet the visitor’s eyes was the
huge triptych on canvas of the Madonna and Child
with the Church Fathers, painted by Giovanni
d’ Alemagna and Antonio Vivarini originally for the
Scuola della Carita, which looked decidedly
cramped in its smali space. Nevertheless, it madę the
point that as early as the 1440s there was an
important German painter working in Venice, even
if (as is suggested in the catalogue entry) his
contribution to the workshop output was principally
3. Antonello da Messina, St. Jerome
in his study, London, National Gallery, 1418.
Oil on panel
3. Antonello da Messina, Św. Hieronim
w swojej pracowni, Londyn, National Gallery,
1418. Olej na desce
in the technical rather than the stylistic field. The
first main gallery, of 15th-century portraits,
constructively contrasted the debt of Antonello da
Messina to Eyckian portraiture - comparing the
Turin Antonello (cat. no. 3) with the impressive Los
Angeles Portrait of a Man by Petrus Christus (2) -
with that of Giovanni Bellini (7-8) to Hans Memling
(5-6). Here the further point was madę of the
importance of Antonello’s Netherlandish-inspired
treatment for later Venetian portraiture, notably that
of Lorenzo Lotto whose striking Bernarda de’Rossi
from Naples (4) was included. In the third room the
Eyckian St Jerome (15) from Detroit was tellingly
hung next to Antonello’s London St Jerome (16),
and in the fourth Antonello’s Antwerp Crucifixion
(13), Bellini’s early Crucifixion in the Museo Correr
(12), and the Eyckian Ca d’Oro Crucifixion (10)
with its unfinished Paduan copy (11) of ca. 1450
were placed side by side, with Bellini’s later, beauti-
fully preserved Prato Crucifixion (14) on the
adjacent wali. These juxtapositions again impress-
ively illustrated Bellini’s debt to northern art, in his
use here of the Eyckian compositional device aptly
described by Miliard Meiss as ‘highlands in the
663
which was then the altarpiece for the chapel at
Lorenzo de’ Medici’s villa at Careggi, in particular.
Filippino’s debt to northern art, shown also in the
landscapes of his early Adoration of the Magi
(London, National Gallery; 69) and in the landscape
vignette copied from Jan van Eyck that he supplied
to the Adoration (68), also in the National Gallery,
London, on which he collaborated with Botticelli, is
an example of the generał interest shown by
Florentine artists in the 1470s in Netherlandish art.
The parallel Yenetian debts to northern art were the
primary focus of the Palazzo Grassi exhibition, but
this was an aspect of Florentine art at the time that
was neglected in the London exhibition. This lack
was emphasised by the noteworthy absence of any
works by the young Domenico Ghirlandaio, whose
debt in his Ognissanti St Jerome to a van Eyckian
prototype (very probably the St Jerome now in
Detroit, included in the Palazzo Grassi exhibition) is
very evident. Despite this lacuna, however, this was
a fine exhibition, which unusually (for the National
Gallery) but necessarily brought together works in
many media, illustrated all facets of ‘the art of the
1470s’, one of the most enterprising and inventive
decades in early-Renaissance Florentine art.
The huge exhibition on the theme of U Rinascimento
a Venezia e la pittura del Nord ‘ai tempi di Bellini,
Diirer, Tiziano’, on display at the Palazzo Grassi,
Venice was principally of paintings, with a few smali
rooms devoted to drawings and engravings. There
were morę than two hundred works on display, and it
is clearly not possible to do justice here to all the
effective juxtapositions that were madę. The
exhibition covered a much wider chronological span
than the London exhibition, and sought to
demonstrate the interdependence of Venice and its
neighbours - especially its trading partners north of
the Alps - throughout the Renaissance period.
However, it became gradually less coherent as it
moved further into the 16th century, with various
paintings that appeared to have little morę to do than
fili spaces on the walls. This review will therefore
concentrate on the earlier rooms, in which paintings
belonging to the same era as those in the London
exhibition were displayed.
The first work to meet the visitor’s eyes was the
huge triptych on canvas of the Madonna and Child
with the Church Fathers, painted by Giovanni
d’ Alemagna and Antonio Vivarini originally for the
Scuola della Carita, which looked decidedly
cramped in its smali space. Nevertheless, it madę the
point that as early as the 1440s there was an
important German painter working in Venice, even
if (as is suggested in the catalogue entry) his
contribution to the workshop output was principally
3. Antonello da Messina, St. Jerome
in his study, London, National Gallery, 1418.
Oil on panel
3. Antonello da Messina, Św. Hieronim
w swojej pracowni, Londyn, National Gallery,
1418. Olej na desce
in the technical rather than the stylistic field. The
first main gallery, of 15th-century portraits,
constructively contrasted the debt of Antonello da
Messina to Eyckian portraiture - comparing the
Turin Antonello (cat. no. 3) with the impressive Los
Angeles Portrait of a Man by Petrus Christus (2) -
with that of Giovanni Bellini (7-8) to Hans Memling
(5-6). Here the further point was madę of the
importance of Antonello’s Netherlandish-inspired
treatment for later Venetian portraiture, notably that
of Lorenzo Lotto whose striking Bernarda de’Rossi
from Naples (4) was included. In the third room the
Eyckian St Jerome (15) from Detroit was tellingly
hung next to Antonello’s London St Jerome (16),
and in the fourth Antonello’s Antwerp Crucifixion
(13), Bellini’s early Crucifixion in the Museo Correr
(12), and the Eyckian Ca d’Oro Crucifixion (10)
with its unfinished Paduan copy (11) of ca. 1450
were placed side by side, with Bellini’s later, beauti-
fully preserved Prato Crucifixion (14) on the
adjacent wali. These juxtapositions again impress-
ively illustrated Bellini’s debt to northern art, in his
use here of the Eyckian compositional device aptly
described by Miliard Meiss as ‘highlands in the