The Italian Renaissance and Baroque

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Looking at the picture as a whole, one is struck by the fact that the gardens are far
more enclosed and symmetrical than those of Madama and the others. In the centre axial
line are the court, the first and second terraces, and the clump of oaks; the meadow is be-
hind, and at the end of all is the vedetta. The view from the roof paths must have shown a
very imposing general garden scene. The use of a dividing wall for a fine grotto had never
before been carried out so boldly. Against this there is the striking lack of steps, and it
almost looks as though Genga has taken pains to avoid them. Neither house nor garden
is anywhere accessible or joined together by stairways visible outside, but these are
turned off into spacious side wings, with considerable waste of space. In this arrangement
no Roman influence can be detected, while the bold terraces lead us unmistakably to the
model of the Palazzo Ducale at Pesaro, rising up on its colossal terraces. Water also is handled
by Genga with some reserve and timidity. There are only single fountains in the loggia,
the court, and the first terrace. Indeed the great reservoir, constructed to work so well as
an object of art both at Madama and at Te, here is treated like the stairways, and hidden
underground behind the grotto. And the planting of the gardens (the orange, lemons, and
myrtle playing so great a part) reminds one of the Early Renaissance, although we also have
the ornamental terrace, leading up to the myrtle-garden, and closed in with a clump of trees
behind; consequently we get both the harmony and the dissonance of two artistic schemes.

The Villa Imperiale was only one, though doubtless the queen, among a circle of villas
that, as Agostino says, "vied with each other in beauty and grace," and were only a few
hours' journey apart. He gives a fine picture of festal delights and pleasant, cheerful
company. The seven travellers were received everywhere m the kindest way, and met with
the most friendly hosts and brilliant society, each host trying to outdo the rest. First of all
the duke himself acted as cicerone, showing them the beauties of his villa and then leaving
them to do whatever they pleased. At his table the meal was enlivened by clever talk on
subjects which they had in common, and afterwards came poetry and music. Towards
evening the friends strolled off to another villa, where they would pass the night. The
next day was given up to fowling, and when they came back it was to find a company of
cheerful people, who bade them welcome, and at once started some interesting conversa-
tion. Agostino gives a little sketch of each villa he visited, but not more, unfortunately,
than a ground-plan and a section, so that we see nothing of their gardens and are told
merely of unimportant details. Each villa has a peculiar charm of its own; and by con-
necting paths the guests pass through cypresses and shrubberies from one to another.
This excursion among villas is simply a little extra bit of Castiglione's great work 77 Corte-
giano, and exhibits a happy side of the Renaissance; the cheerfulness of villa life is like a
wreath of flowers round the history of all these men, so clouded by gloomy fate otherwise.
Some of the villas on the hills round Pesaro still retain certain traces of their old
traditions. One beautiful garden is seen with four terraces belonging to the Villa
Caprile (Mosta), which itself has been entirely modernised. Below it is closed in with a
cypress wall clipped into the form of battlements.

Charmed by descriptions such as this, the eye seeks for the few relics of the great
days of Italian art, but of gardens there are seldom more than fragments left. On a
narrow hill-ridge south of Florence stands the fine Villa dei Collazzi with its view over
both sides of the Florentine plain, built in 1530 for the Dini family, Raphael's friends.
This has led to the mistaken idea that Michael Angelo made the plan and the painter