Saturday, March 12, 2016

Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters

Introduction

[Because this two-volume work is a selection out of Vasari's biographical sketches, it doesn't make much sense to do an 'Opening Passage'.]

Sample Passage:

In the vicinity of Prato, which is at the distance of some ten miles from the city of Florence, and at a village called Savignano, was born Bartolommeo, according to the Tuscan practice called Baccio. From his childhood, Bartolommeo evinced not only a great inclination but an extraordinary aptitude for the study of design; and by the intervention of Benedetto da Maiano, he was placed under the discipline of Cosimo Roselli, being taken into the house of certain of his kinsfolk who dwelt near the gate of San Piero Gattolini, where Bartolommeo also dwelt many years, for which reason he was always called Baccio della Porta, nor was he known by any other name. (Vol 2, p. 5)

Summary: I found Vasari's work to be interesting for the same reason that I often enjoy biographies of poets: it is a look at art from the workmanship side, and takes the details of workmanship seriously. In a very real sense one can read Vasari's lives of the painters as a series of studies on the interrelation of talent, education, and reward in good painting, by one who was familiar with all three, and, interestingly enough, the relation of these three things in painting to good character in general, as part of that form of good life that is suitable to painters.

The first teacher of every painter is nature, and the painter by his designs seeks to imitate nature, selecting "the brightest parts from her best and loveliest features" (Vol. 1, p. 21). Some, like Giotto or Michelangelo, have an extraordinary innate talent and drive to learn from nature directly; they are, as Vasari says of Giotto, "induced by nature herself to the arts of design" (Vol. 1, p. 21). Those who are "by nature disposed to the cultivation of the arts" have a sure foundation for a good life, one which can be extended by study; this may be built upon by "character and manners calculated to render them acceptable to all men"; but to achieve true greatness one must be noticed (Vol. 1, p. 50).

The natural talent and study which makes good painting possible needs to be encouraged by reward, "for there are many minds, which might remain dormant if left without stimulus, but which, being excited by this allurement, put forth all their efforts, not only for the acquirement of their art, but to attain the utmost excellence therein" (Vol 1., p. 66). On the other side, however, we have the examples of painters like Sebastiano del Piombo that show that this is not a universal rule, however, good it may be in general:

...the liberality of just and magnanimous princes has, in certain instances, produced a contrary effect, seeing that there are many who are more disposed to contribute to the advantage and utility of the world while in depressed and moderate condition than when exalted to greatness and possessing an abundance of all things. (Vol 2., pp. 340-341)

We see something similar to this with study, which is essential to serious painting, but at the same time can be done badly. Thus the painter Paolo Uccello ruined his native talent by an excessive, almost obsessive, focus on studying perspective, and the quality of the work of Jacopo da Pontormo declined through his life because, instead of cultivating the excellences of his early style, he devoted himself to studied imitation of Northern European painters. As Vasari says in reflecting on the latter, "he who ventures to do himself violence and seeks to force nature does but ensure the ruin of those good qualities which had been imparted to him" (Vol. 2, p. 290). And Vasari repeatedly notes the importance of what one studies in one's youth -- a matter almost of accident, but which can have significant effects on the quality of one's work later. And study itself can get you only so far; as Vasari notes, providence, seeing so many artists struggling in "ardent studies pursued without any result" (Vol 2., p. 107), decided to show them the perfection of art by simply making Michelangelo.

A similar issue can be found with good character. You have painters like Fra Angelico, whose saintly character is part of his skill in painting, in a way that shows that the two are capable of combining in a powerful way. Vasari is likewise very clear that all of the greatest painters had at least some excellent character traits that made them admirable men as well as admirable painters, and that the two ways of being admirable are in some way connected -- and yet others may be overrated because their character gives them an ability to please that does not have much to do with the quality of their work.

We see then throughout the fragility of greatness of painting. Where natural talent is wanting, one can only get so far. But natural talent also requires cultivation, and each form of cultivation has pitfalls. The external cultivation of reward provides the incentives of wealth and glory to intensify the latent motivation to paint -- but in some cases it may have the opposite effect. The personal cultivation of study is a powerful thing -- but it may ruin or mislead as well as stimulate. And the innermost cultivation, that of good character, diligent, sweet-tempered, thoughtful, gives a grace to one's work -- sometimes. Painting itself is a fragile art -- Vasari is already full of stories of destroyed masterpieces -- but the conditions for great painting are themselves fragile. Talent, character, study, and reward: they all must come together, and do so in the right way, for real and lasting greatness to be achieved.

Favorite Passage:

It is related that the prior of the monastery was excessively importunate in pressing Leonardo to complete the picture [of the Last Supper]. He could in no way comprehend wherefore the artist should sometimes remain half a day together absorbed in thought before his work, without making any progress that he could see; this seemed to him a strange waste of time, and he would fain have had him work away as he could make the men do who were digging in his garden, never laying the pencil out of his hand. Not content with seeking to hasten Leonardo, the prior even complained to the Duke, and tormented him to such a degree that the latter was at length compelled to send for Leonardo, whom he courteously entreated to let the work be finished, assuring him nevertheless that he did so because impelled by the importunities of the prior.

Leonardo, knowing the Prince to be intelligent and judicious, determined to explain himself fully on the subject with him, although he had never chosen to do so with the prior. He therefore discoursed with him at some length respecting art, and made it perfectly manifest to his comprehension that men of genius are sometimes producing most when they seem to be labouring least, their minds being occupied in the elucidation of their ideas, and in the completion of the conceptions to which they afterwards give form and expression with the hand.... (Vol 1, pp. 316-317)

Recommendation: It takes an interest in Italian Renaissance painters, but if you have that, it is definitely Recommended.

Lent XXVIII

Good as such cannot make a person sad, but one can be sad about good as understood under the aspect of evil, whether real or apparent. And envy in this way consists of chagrin at the good of another, namely, insofar as the good of another is an impediment to one's own excellence.

Thomas Aquinas, De Malo 10.1 ad 6.

[Thomas Aquinas, On Evil, Regan, tr., Oxford University Press (Oxford: 2003) p. 353.]

Through Dim Labyrinths of Sleep

The Dream
by Arthur Christoper Benson


I dreamed that I was dead, and smiling lay
Glad as a child, that wakens in the dawn,
And sees, across the dewy glimmering lawn
The light that brings some longed-for holiday.

So this was all, I said, and death is o'er;
The shadow that has lain across the years
Is safely passed, and I have done with fears,
And I am glad and free for evermore!

Then with small joyous laughter I addressed
My heart to peace and wonder, when a flame
Of terror seized my spirit, mournful pain;
Dull sadnesses that would not let me rest;
And through dim labyrinths of sleep I came
Back to the cruel day, back to my chain.

Friday, March 11, 2016

Lent XXVII

Many human beings are stirred to spiritual deeds for the sake of some temporal goods, but the disordered covetousness of temporal goods is not on that account sinless. So also although many perform virtuous deeds for the sake of glory, the disordered desire for glory is not on that account sinless, since we should perform virtuous deeds for their own sake, or rather for God's sake, not for the sake of glory.

Thomas Aquinas, De Malo 9.1 ad 6. 'Glory' here means (following a definition by Augustine) 'clear recognition accompanied by praise'.

[Thomas Aquinas, On Evil, Regan, tr., Oxford University Press (Oxford: 2003) p. 344.]

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Infallibility

The Hans Küng drinking game, if you don't know it, consists in listening to a lecture by the Swiss theologian Hans Küng and taking a drink every time he takes a theological topic -- infallibility, the Trinity, Christology -- and makes it about himself. Actually, it should probably be kept entirely theoretical because, as you know if you have ever been subjected to watching a lecture by Hans Küng, you would get very drunk, dangerously drunk, very quickly. Theology for Hans Küng seems to have as its subject the Twelve Labors of Hans Küng. I thought of that a bit when I read Küng's recent appeal to Pope Francis on the subject of papal infallibility, which he does, indeed, make primarily a discussion of his own experiences and travails.

I find the comments section somewhat more interesting, as the readers of the National Catholic Reporter quickly end up running through pretty much every possible anti-infallibility position imaginable. Most interesting of all was that some of the commenters start arguing that the problem is not papal infallibility but magisterial infallibility -- which is actually more sensible than anything Küng himself usually argues, since the doctrine of papal infallibility is just that the Holy Spirit, as the Spirit of Truth, has an infallible authority to teach, and that the Church, insofar as it is animated by the Holy Spirit, sometimes in teaching does so out of the Holy Spirit's infallible authority to teach, and that the Pope's teaching, when he is teaching as successor of Peter and sign of the apostolic unity of the Church, is one of the ways in which the Church does so. Since the Holy Spirit necessarily has infallible teaching authority, the bulk of the doctrine rests entirely on the nature of the teaching authority of the Church. Once you grant that the Church has any kind of magisterial infallibility, the only question left with regard to papal infallibility is whether the Pope ever, in any exercise of his office, is the 'official voice' of the Church, or, to put it another way, whether the Church ever teaches in this way by way of the Pope as successor of Peter. (And if you look at the definition of the doctrine by Vatican I, you notice immediately that the primary bulk of the argument is papal primacy, the sense in which the Pope guides and speaks for the entire Church; papal infallibility is treated as nothing but a particular clarification of papal primacy, and the actual definition explicitly connects papal infallibility with ecclesial infallibility.)

Lent XXVI

O you sons of men, for the words apply to you, how long will you be hard-hearted and gross in mind? Why do ye love vanity and seek after leasing, supposing life here to be a great thing and these few days many, and shrinking from this separation, welcome and pleasant as it is, as if it were really grievous and awful? Are we not to know ourselves? Are we not to cast away visible things? Are we not to look to the things unseen? Are we not, even if we are somewhat grieved, to be on the contrary distressed at our lengthened sojourn, like holy David, who calls things here the tents of darkness, and the place of affliction, and the deep mire, and the shadow of death; because we linger in the tombs we bear about with us, because, though we are gods, we die like men the death of sin?

Gregory Nazianzen, Oration 7 (Panegyric on St. Caesarius)

Wednesday, March 09, 2016

Maronite Year XXIX

It is difficult to know what to make of the Emperor Licinius. Co-emperor with Constantine, he was also co-author of the Edict of Milan, which granted toleration to Christianity. Like Constantine, he seems to have provided some support for Christians in the Empire. But there are plenty of reports of persecutions of Christians under his watch. Some of these may be more political than real, since it was in Constantine's political interest to paint Licinius as a thoroughly anti-Christian pagan; but there are enough reports of sufficient repute to give us reason to think that a number of them are real. Among these are the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste. The Forty Martyrs were soldiers of the Legion XII Fulminata, stationed in Armenia; they were exposed naked on a frozen pond throughout the night and then burned. This is said to have happened in 320; we know, because of a homily by St. Basil, that they already had a church dedicated to them in Caesarea and a regular feast-day by the 370s.

Devotion to the Forty Martyrs became quite popular very quickly, then, and also entangled with the customs of Lent early on -- St. Gregory of Nyssa notes the play on the number of forty in a homily probably from no later than the early 380s, and the memorial can be seen as a reminder that every day of Lent is a little martyrdom.

Feast of the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste
2 Corinthians 4:11-18; Luke 6:20-23

It is pleasing in the eyes of God
to recall His martyrs with joy,
to celebrate their memorials,
to sing their deeds with hymns and songs;
what satiety of remembrance
can there be for those who love them?

The martyrs rain down help upon us;
like bulwarks they protect our walls,
protect us from the inroads of sin.
Their death is for our sake, for grace,
that we may have thanksgiving to God.
Their light trouble has eternal weight;
the seen fades soon, not their victory.

To the Lord you said, "We are forty,
engaged in a mighty combat;
grant that we may win to the great crown,
grant that not one of us may fail."
Rejoice and leap for joy, O martyrs;
you are witnesses to his grace.

Happy are you when people hate you,
when they revile you and spurn you,
because of the kingdom of Heaven!
Rejoice in that day, leap for joy;
your reward will be great in Heaven.
The Lord said "Follow," and you followed,
O Forty Martyrs of Sebaste.