Wednesday, August 29, 2012

THE CLASSICAL VILLA IN RENAISSANCE ROME: RAPHAEL'S VILLA MADAMA AND PIRRO LIGORIO'S CASINO OF PIUS IV


In 1352, Petrarch, in a letter to his friend Lapo da Castiglionchio, wrote of his time spent at his country retreat, reading the works of classical writers like Cicero:
This soothing, quiet, peaceful country, and this delightsome retreat are situated to one side to the right of one seeking it, to the left of him returning therefrom. . . .No one has ever reached it except purposing to do so through certain knowledge of its existence, drawn to the spot by the beauty of the Fountain, or by his desire for repose and study. . . . In truth, study has this great virtue, that it appeases our desire for a life of solitude, mitigates our aversion for the vulgar herd, tenders us sought-for repose even in the midst of the thickest crowds, instills in us many noble thoughts , and provides us with the fellowship of most illustrious men even in the most solitary forests.[1]

Petrarch, through his poetry and scholarship, sought to revive the classical world, whose concepts were embodied by the works of classical writers such as Cicero, Horace, and Virgil. Among the classical concepts he wished to revive was that of the villa, a countryside retreat where one could live the contemplative life.[2] “In the mid fourteenth century,” writes David. R. Coffin, “Petrarch had revived the ancient idea that the contemplative life, the life of artistic and philosophical creativity, the life of otium, could only blossom in the quiet of the country side.”[3]  The villa, in both its conceptual and architectural forms, was born in ancient Rome, where it had become an integral part of social, economic, and cultural life. It was here, during the Augustan era, that Virgil composed his pastoral poems idealizing the concept of the villa as a country retreat away from the chaos of the city, where one could live a life of otium, that is, a life of leisure in which one can dedicate oneself to intellectual pursuits.[4] Villas, which had disappeared in the fifth century with the fall of the Roman Empire, began to reappear in the fifteenth century, replacing feudal fortresses, under the Florentine Medici, who, as patrons of humanist scholars, many of whom followers of Petrarchan ideals, were influenced by their interests in classical antiquity, particular the concept of otium.[5] By the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, the villa had returned to Rome, where it became an escape for the pleasure-seeking patrician, rather than the Tuscan retreat for the contemplative humanist.[6] But while the concept of the classical villa, as a place of leisure away from the city, had become an important aspect of both Tuscan and Roman life in the fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries, the classical revival of the Renaissance had yet to make its full impact on the architectural form of the villa.[7] Not long into the sixteenth century, however, architects began to design villas which consciously conformed to antique schemes. Two designs in particular, Raphael’s Villa Madama and Pirro Ligorio’s Casino of Pius IV, demonstrated the full impact of classical antiquity on the form of the Roman Renaissance villa.  Both Raphael and Ligorio would attempt to reproduce the ancient Roman villa in both its form and its concept, but because of the architects’ different professional backgrounds and the different functions that their respective designs needed to accommodate, they would establish very different architectural idioms.
In 1518, Cardinal Giulio de’ Medici, cousin of Pope Leo X (Giovanni di Lorenzo de’ Medici), commissioned Raphael to build a villa on the slopes of Monte Mario in Rome, which would later be named Madama after Margaret of Austria, who acquired the villa after the assassination of her husband Alessandro de’ Medici in 1537. “Proceeding from an idealization of the antique Roman villa,” notes Guy Dewez, “its purpose was evidently to provide an enchanting Medici residence at the gates of Rome where prominent visitors might be greeted, properly accommodated while making ready for their ceremonial entry and, during their stay in the city, lavishly entertained.”[8] Raphael and his assistants began the construction of the villa in either 1518 or 1519. When Raphael died in 1520, Antonio da Sangallo the Younger succeeded to the superintendence of the project while Giovanni da Udine and Giulio Romano contributed stuccowork and painted decoration, respectively. In 1527, Giulio de’ Medici, who in 1523 had ascended to the papacy as Pope Clement VII , watched from his hide-out in the Castel Sant’Angelo as Charles V’s mutinied army set flame to his unfinished villa during their Sack of Rome.[9] While Raphael’s reinterpretation of the ancient Roman villa would never be realized, the heritage of his classical vision was to be continued by the Neapolitan architect Pirro Ligorio, in his villa complex for Pius IV.[10] “In Rome,” notes Wolfgang Lotz, “Pius IV’s Casino is the most important example of those antiquarian trends which we have already seen in [Raphael]. . . .”[11] In addition to being a painter and an architect, Ligorio was also one of the greatest antiquarians and archaeologists of his day. His passion for, and extensive knowledge of, classical antiquity is reflected in the unprecedented archaeological accuracy of the Casino’s classical form and decoration, which, according to Coffin, “would seem to mark the climax of the impact of classical archaeology upon the Renaissance villa.”[12] In May 1558, Paul IV commissioned Pirro Ligorio to build a small villa in the bosco di Belvedere at the Vatican to serve as the Pope’s private summer retreat. The project was interrupted in November, but revived in 1560 by Paul’s successor, Pius IV. It was under Pius IV, born Giovanni Angelo de’ Medici, that Ligorio’s classical vision for the architectural complex, now called the Casino of Pius IV, was realized.
Ligorio and Raphael both devised plans for their villas that are centered on a round inner court, Raphael’s in the shape of a circle and Ligorio’s in the shape of an oval, which may have come from a misinterpretation of a letter by the ancient Roman Pliny the Younger, in which he describes the architectural form of his Laurentine Villa:[13] “You first enter a courtyard, plain and simple without being mean, and then pass into a colonnade in the shape of the letter D, enclosing a small but cheerful area between. . . . Opposite the middle of the colonnade is a very pleasant inner court, which leads into a handsome dining-room.”[14] During the Renaissance, this letter D was mistakenly identified as the letter O, which architects therefore interpreted as a circular or oval-shaped court.[15] But Ligorio, more than likely, also based his oval-shaped court on non-literary antique sources, such as the ellipse of the antique amphitheater.[16]
This brings us to one of the main differences between Ligorio’s and Raphael’s design; while each made use of both literary and archaeological antique sources, Ligorio  based his designs mostly on his hands-on observations of antiquities, whereas Raphael based his designs mostly on written accounts from antiquity. Raphael and his assistants certainly studied the Pantheon and the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine, and applied the former’s pedastaled, columnated and pedimented tabernacles to his design for the elevation of the circular court, and the latter’s vault-enclosed threefold fenestration system to his design for the main hall and the radiating arcades of the North-east façade.[17] However, it was primarily the architectural principles outlined in the treatise of the Augustan-era architect Vitruvius, as well as the accounts found in the letters of Pliny the Younger, that formed the basis of Raphael’s classical design. Raphael’s plan for the villa’s theater, for example, comprising a circle with four inscribed triangles, was derived from Vitruvius’s description of a theater, and the classical garden houses, called daetae, and the underground Doric portico, called a cryptoporticus, which he incorporated into his design, all come from Pliny’s descriptions of his villas.[18] “In fact,” writes Coffin, “Pliny’s later depiction of the Tuscan villa set in amphitheater crowned with woods above the meadows through which the Tiber flows could almost be a description of the setting of the Villa Madama.”[19] In his villa design, Raphael sought to bring to life the villas of Pliny’s letters, the classical principles and forms of Vitruvius’s treatise, and various motifs from the monuments of ancient Rome, and bring them together according to his own artistic vision. The result is a complex of structures, each an independent recreation of a particular antique model, that, when taken together, form a villa that is both grandiose in scale and innovative in design.
Whereas Raphael’s vision was that of an artist, Ligorio’s was that of an archaeologist. “Ligorio harks back to the poetic and formal tradition of antiquity in the same way as Raphael in his designs for the Villa Madama,” writes Lotz, “but while Raphael assimilated the heritage of antiquity in his own masterly fashion, Ligorio’s villa looks like a book of quotations in which antique forms are reproduced with a maximum of accuracy.”[20] Ligorio had performed excavations of Hardrian’s Villa from 1550 to 1568 and even prepared a plan of the complex. It is likely that Ligorio’s Casino was intended to be a reconstruction of the ancient villa’s island nymphaeum[21], or as Coffin suggests, an antique musaeion.[22] As an antiquarian, Ligorio also studied late antique sarcophagi, which he imitated in his design for the Loggetta with its Ionic caryatids, pediments, and aediculae.[23] The facades of the Loggetta, the Casino proper and the entrance portal are covered with rich stucco decoration, designed by Ligorio himself, which he derived from his studies of antiquities and classical iconography.[24] In contrast to Raphael’s monumental villa, Ligorio’s Casino is very intimate in scale and set in the seclusion of the Vatican gardens, making it the ideal setting for the ancient Roman concept of otium.[25] The classical archaeological decorative and architectural idiom that Ligorio establishes with his Casino was to be continued by the Villa Medici and the Villa Borghese,[26] but it would not be adopted with the same scholarly approach until the neoclassicism of Robert Adam in the eighteenth century. But with the rise of absolutism, the grandiose and luxurious architectural idiom that Raphael applies to his classical, yet monumental, villa is adopted in the same fashion by Renaissance princes who transfer their seats of power to the country, culminating in Louis XIV’s Chateau de Versailles during the seventeenth century.[27]



[1] Francesco Petrarca, Petrarch’s Letters (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1910), 40.
[2] James S. Ackerman, The Villa: Form and Ideology of Country Houses (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1990), 64.
[3] David R. Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance Rome (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1979), 9.
[4] Ackerman, The Villa, 39.
[5] Ibid., 63-6.
[6] Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance, 86-7.
[7] Ibid., 241.
[8] Guy Dewez, Villa Madama: A memoir relating to Raphael’s project (New York: Princeton Architectural Press, 1993), 9.
[9] Roger Jones, and Nicholas Penny, Raphael (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1983), 234.
[10] Wolfgang Lotz, Architecture in Italy, 1500-1600 (1974; repr., New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1995), 107.
[11] Ibid., 108-9.
[12] Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance, 277.
[13] Louis Cellauro, “The Casino of Pius IV in the Vatican,” Papers of the British School at Rome 63 (1995): 200.
[14] Alfred John Church, and William Jackson Brodribb, eds., Pliny’s Letters (Philadelphia: J.P. Lippincott, 1875), 131.
[15] Cellauro, “The Casino of Pius IV,” 200.
[16] Ibid., 199.
[17] Dewez, Villa Madama
[18] Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance, 248.
[19] Ibid.
[20] Lotz, Architecture in Italy, 109.
[21] Graham Smith, The Casino of Pius IV (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1977), 21.
[22] David R. Coffin, Pirro Ligorio: The Renaissance Artist, Architect, and Antiquarian (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2004), 41.
[23] Ibid., 39-40.
[24] Cellauro, “The Casino of Pius IV,” 183.
[25] Coffin, The Villa in the Life of Renaissance, 273.
[26] Ibid., 278.
[27] Lotz, Architecture in Italy, 107.


Raphael, Central court of the Villa Madama, Rome, begun ca. 1516                    

Raphael, Final project for the Villa Madama, before 1520
Pirro Ligorio, Façade of the casino proper, Casino of Pius IV, Vatican, 1558-62
Pirro Ligorio, Loggetta, Casino of Pius IV, Vatican, 1558-1562

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Portraiture and the Napoleonic Regime


Portraiture’s inferiority to history painting within the hierarchy of genres dictated by the European Académies became a subject of much debate throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. In the eighteenth century, artists, seeking to work within the grand style of history painting, but needing the financial security that portrait painting guaranteed, developed a “mixed” portrait that fused the representational nature of portraiture with the allegorical nature of history painting. “These ‘mixed’ portraits,” writes Christopher M. S. Johns, “which challenged the traditional academic undervaluing of portraits vis-à-vis history painting in the long-established hierarchy of the genres, are characteristic of a more widespread phenomenon in eighteenth-century visual culture that sought to subvert, or a least to reconfigure, the traditionally defined parameters of the various genres.”[1] These portraits maintain the general likeness of their subjects but also endow them with the idealized features of classical deities and heroes. Contemporary dress is discarded in favor of the nude and minimal drapery, removing the individuals from their actual environment and placing them within the context of history painting. Allegorical portraits of women were among the most popular varieties of painting and sculpture to emerge during the French Rococo period. Jean-Marc Nattier, for example, portrayed the marquise de Pompadour as a classical goddess in his Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson, marquise de Pompadour en Diane chasseresse (1746) (fig. 1). In this mythological portrait of Louis XV’s mistress, Nattier includes such classical iconography as Diana’s bow and arrow and, as goddess of the hunt, places her within the forest. In the 1780s and 1790s, with the rise of the severe Davidian neoclassicism, the allegorical portrait fell out of style, but reemerged as an important form of painting and sculpture during the French Consulate and Imperial periods.
            Under both the Consulate and the Empire, the government utilized art as a means of shaping the public’s perceptions of the Napoleonic regime. Artists drew from a variety of artistic forms and iconographical traditions in order to establish a visual language for creating Napoleonic propaganda.  Many of these representations of the Napoleonic regime were executed in the visual language of classical history painting, such as Antoine-Jean Gros’s Bonaparte Visiting the Plague-Stricken in Jaffa (1804) (fig. 2). But in addition to the grand style, the government also commissioned works that drew upon the eighteenth century tradition of the mythological or allegorical portrait. Among the greatest of these works was the Venetian sculptor Antonio Canova’s Napoleon as Mars the Peacemaker (1803-6)(fig. 3). Antonio Canova sought to “elevate the work beyond portraiture to approach the more exalted excellencies of history” by depicting Napoleon in the guise of the classical god Mars.[2]
            Napoleon was initially apprehensive about being depicted as a classical nude, but following the insistence of Canova and Dominique-Vivant Denon, Directeur-Général du Musée Central des Arts, he agreed. [3] Canova “insisted that the sophistication of the concept and the self-conscious appeal to history that Napoleon himself desired could be achieved by the classic, universal quality that only nudity could express.”[4] By presenting him as the Roman god of war, but also as a Peacemaker, Canova shows Napoleon as a powerful military ruler as well as a successful diplomat and statesman. This tradition of deifying rulers through artistic representation can be traced to the sculpture of Classical Antiquity. The Roman Emperor Augustus was deified in a sculpture from the first quarter of the first century, in which the Roman ruler is portrayed as the god Jupiter. Like Napoleon as Mars the Peacemaker, Augustus is presented in the nude, wearing minimal drapery. Both Augustus and Napoleon hold figures of the goddess of victory, Nike, in their right hands, while gripping scepters with their left.  These classical symbols of both civic and military power firmly establish Canova’s sculpture of Napoleon within the Classical tradition. When the sculpture was finally brought to Paris in 1811, however, presumably to be installed in the Musée Napoléon (now the Musée du Louvre), Napoleon was displeased and ordered it to be kept away from the public. Following the fall of Napoleon and the subsequent ascension of Louis XVIII to the French throne, the sculpture was sold to the Duke of Wellington for 66,000 francs in 1816.  The sculpture remains in the stairwell at Apsley House, the London residence of the Duke of Wellington after his victory over Napoleon at Waterloo.



[1] Christopher M. S. Johns, “Portrait Mythology: Antonio Canova’s Portraits of the Bonapartes” Eighteenth-Century Studies 28, no. 1 (Autumn 1994): 116.
[2] Johns, “Portrait Mythology,” 119.
[3] David O’Brien, After the Revolution: Antoine-Jean Gros, Painting and Propaganda Under Napoleon (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2006), 168.
[4] Johns, “Portrait Mythology,” 122.




Figure 1.


Figure 2.
Figure 3.