DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.53068#0064
RAPHAEL
§ Madonna of Sant’ Antonio: Ansidei Madonna
Under the influence of impressions and reminiscences two great pictures
were produced, those painted for the nuns of Sant’ Antonio and for the Chapel
of St Nicholas in San Fiorenzo at Perugia, commissioned by the Ansidei family.
They have the disjointed character belonging to a period of transition. The
idea for the enthroned Madonna of Sant’ Antonio starts off with an entirely
Umbrian harmony, already genuinely Raphaelesque. In accordance with the
destination of the work for this nunnery, not only is the Divine Child clothed;
it was more important for the young painter to give a dark tone to the harmony.
The blackish baldacchino over the throne is the starting-point for colours
which are all broken up with black. It is the atmosphere of an early monastic
Hour; the twilight of dawn or early Mass dominates the whole from the very
beginning. The grave, almost gloomy Princes of the Apostles in the foreground
are under its sway, although in them we have already figures standing firmly
on their feet in the Florentine manner, and they seem to be breathing beneath
their robes. The predella-pictures are more curious than convincing. In
the centrepiece, the Road to Calvary (Plate 229c), the colours express the
agitation of the start, if you will have it so; beautiful motives full of
tenderness occur, among others quite devoid of feeling—the figure of Christ,
in itself surprising in Raphael, because in its suffering it has not an effect
of dominance, becomes more intelligible when we know that it was con-
ceived under the stress of reminiscences of the strange central figure in the
Last Supper by Justus van Gent at Urbino. Among the scattered portions
of the predella the only felicitous one is the St Anthony in the Dulwich
Gallery, carried out with free sketchy strokes of the brush, with all the charm
of a drawing.
The style in which the Madonna degli Ansidei (Plate 28) is presented to us
would decidedly be thought of as antiquated were it not that its date, on the
border of the Virgin’s cloak, must be read as MDV or even VI or VII (at the
earliest, however, 1505). It might also be taken as a concave pendant to the
Sposalizio, and it is no accident that it recalls that altarpiece of Piero della
Francesca from Urbino. Its whole effect was determined by the brightness of
the shimmering reflections in the portico of white stone; the profound solemnity
of colour is concentrated on the throne in the middle—blackish olive, bottle
green, brown, leading up to the cherry red and blue of the dress; from this
point it spreads in less intense but stimulating tones to right and left. The
sunny chiaroscuro of Piero della Francesca contributes something to the alb of
St Nicholas and to the hands; his pearl-embroidered mitre stands out in front of
the whitish-grey of the pilaster, as well as his face, with silvery lights on brow, nose
and the rime on his stubbly chin—a miracle of painting in Central Italy, not
perhaps uninfluenced by Signorelli’s altarpiece in the Cathedral at Perugia.
In forms and expression the Baptist is, strangely enough, still almost inferior
46
§ Madonna of Sant’ Antonio: Ansidei Madonna
Under the influence of impressions and reminiscences two great pictures
were produced, those painted for the nuns of Sant’ Antonio and for the Chapel
of St Nicholas in San Fiorenzo at Perugia, commissioned by the Ansidei family.
They have the disjointed character belonging to a period of transition. The
idea for the enthroned Madonna of Sant’ Antonio starts off with an entirely
Umbrian harmony, already genuinely Raphaelesque. In accordance with the
destination of the work for this nunnery, not only is the Divine Child clothed;
it was more important for the young painter to give a dark tone to the harmony.
The blackish baldacchino over the throne is the starting-point for colours
which are all broken up with black. It is the atmosphere of an early monastic
Hour; the twilight of dawn or early Mass dominates the whole from the very
beginning. The grave, almost gloomy Princes of the Apostles in the foreground
are under its sway, although in them we have already figures standing firmly
on their feet in the Florentine manner, and they seem to be breathing beneath
their robes. The predella-pictures are more curious than convincing. In
the centrepiece, the Road to Calvary (Plate 229c), the colours express the
agitation of the start, if you will have it so; beautiful motives full of
tenderness occur, among others quite devoid of feeling—the figure of Christ,
in itself surprising in Raphael, because in its suffering it has not an effect
of dominance, becomes more intelligible when we know that it was con-
ceived under the stress of reminiscences of the strange central figure in the
Last Supper by Justus van Gent at Urbino. Among the scattered portions
of the predella the only felicitous one is the St Anthony in the Dulwich
Gallery, carried out with free sketchy strokes of the brush, with all the charm
of a drawing.
The style in which the Madonna degli Ansidei (Plate 28) is presented to us
would decidedly be thought of as antiquated were it not that its date, on the
border of the Virgin’s cloak, must be read as MDV or even VI or VII (at the
earliest, however, 1505). It might also be taken as a concave pendant to the
Sposalizio, and it is no accident that it recalls that altarpiece of Piero della
Francesca from Urbino. Its whole effect was determined by the brightness of
the shimmering reflections in the portico of white stone; the profound solemnity
of colour is concentrated on the throne in the middle—blackish olive, bottle
green, brown, leading up to the cherry red and blue of the dress; from this
point it spreads in less intense but stimulating tones to right and left. The
sunny chiaroscuro of Piero della Francesca contributes something to the alb of
St Nicholas and to the hands; his pearl-embroidered mitre stands out in front of
the whitish-grey of the pilaster, as well as his face, with silvery lights on brow, nose
and the rime on his stubbly chin—a miracle of painting in Central Italy, not
perhaps uninfluenced by Signorelli’s altarpiece in the Cathedral at Perugia.
In forms and expression the Baptist is, strangely enough, still almost inferior
46