The Road To Venice

(via The Outline of Art) William Orpen writes:

4

Soon after the death in 1470 of Jacopo Bellini, there arrived in Venice a young Sicilian painter who, without being himself a great master, nevertheless changed the whole course of Italian painting. This was Antonio da Messina (1430-79), who, having seen at Naples in his youth a Flemish picture painted in oils, was so fascinated by the advantages of the new medium, that he went to Flanders and stayed there for some six years till he had thoroughly mastered the new process of painting. Then he returned to Italy, where he generously communicated his secrets to other artists, and so popularized in Italy the Flemish method of oil painting. Antonello was a skillful painter, both of figures and landscape, as his ‘Crucifixion’ from the picture in the National Gallery, proves; but unfortunately he died at the age of forty nine, just when he had received commissions for a number of important paintings, and so we can only judge of his talent by the few small pictures and portraits which have survived.

Others reaped where Antonello had sown. Already Venetian painters had shown a certain independence in their art. In this maritime port, where sails were more plentiful than trees, pictures had long been painted on canvas, for wood that warps and plaster that scales and falls were ill suited to resist the damp that came from the canals. Van Eyck’s method of oil painting, introduced by Antonello, was soon found to be more damp-proof than the old method (tempera) of mixing pigments with yolk-of-egg, besides being lighter in weight and richer in color.

Among the first to take advantage of the new method were the two sons of Bellini, who had soon followed their father to Venice, after his separation from Squarcione. Gentile, the elder, named after Gentile da Fabriano (Jacopo’s first master), was born about 1429; his brother Giovanni was a year or two younger. Both these sons far surpassed their father, and the younger outstripped the elder, but throughout their lives there was no jealously between them.

‘Although the brothers live apart,’ says Vasari, ‘they bore such respect for each other and for their father, that each one declared himself to be inferior to the other, thus seeking modestly to surpass the other no less in goodness and courtesy than in the excellence of art.’

We are told that ‘the first works of Giovanni were some portraits which gave great satisfaction, especially that of the Doge Loredano.’ This last is the sumptuous painting, now hanging in the National Gallery; and from this noble portrait of the Head of the Venetian Republic may be obtained a just idea of Giovanni’s power of characterization and of the splendor of his color when he was still at the outset of his great career. Impressed by the beauty of his portraits and of numerous altar-pieces which he painted for churches in Venetian territory, the nobles of the city desired this great painter, together with his brother Gentile, ‘to decorate the hall of the great council with paintings descriptive of the magnificence and greatness of their marvelous city.’ So, beginning with the brothers Bellini, and afterwards continued by painters of equal eminence, there came into being that unrivalled series of mural paintings in public buildings which makes Venice today the most wonderful art city in the world.

Of all the altar-pieces painted by Giovanni Bellini, the most exquisite is the illustration ‘The Doge Barberigo Kneeling before the Infant Christ’, a painting formerly in the Church of San Pietro at Murano, but now in the Accademia, Venice. This Madonna is one of the loveliest in all Italian art, serene, majestic, pensive, but altogether human and lovable.

Softness and gentleness always distinguish the work of Giovanni Bellini from that of his brother Gentile, who inclined more to the severity of his brother-in-law Mantegna. Good examples of Gentile Bellini may be seen in the National Gallery, among them being an ‘Adoration of the Magi’ and his portraits of ‘The Sultan Mohammed II’. The last has an interesting history. Although paintings are prohibited by Mohammedan laws, this Sultan saw some portraits by Giovanni Bellini in the possession of the Venetian Ambassador, and, filled with amazement and admiration, he earnestly desired to see the man who could create such marvels. The Venetian Senate, however, was disinclined to let Giovanni leave the city, but allowed his brother Gentile to go in his stead. Gentile arrived at Constantinople, where he ‘was received graciously and highly favored,’ and after painting a number of portraits, including one of the Sultan and one (by request) of himself, the Grand Turk was ‘convinced that the artist had been assisted by some divine spirit.’ He wished to reward the artist richly, and ‘asked him to name any favor which he desired, and it would immediately be granted.’

Tactful and courteous, yet conscious that if he unduly prolonged his stay in Turkey he might excite envy and dangerous religious animosity, Gentile replied that he ‘asked for nothing but a letter of recommendation to the senate and government of his native Venice.’ Though loath to let him go, the Sultan was as good as his word. The letter was written ‘in the warmest possible terms, after which he was dismissed with noble gifts and the honor of knighthood.’

So Gentile Bellini returned in honor to Venice, where he lived till he was nearly eighty, when ‘he passed to the other life,’ says Vasari, ‘and was honorably buried by his brother in Santi Giovanni e Paolo in the year 1507.’ His brother Giovanni survived him by some ten years and continued, find old patriarch that he was, painting portraits till almost the end of his days. ‘At length,’ says our historian, he passed from the troubles of this life, leaving an everlasting name for the works which he produced in his native Venice and elsewhere. He was buried in the same church where he had previously laid his brother Gentile.’

The Road To Venice (continued)