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Paolo di Giovanni Fei and Lorenzo Monaco

Im Dokument Seeing Renaissance Glass (Seite 87-90)

Examples of gilded glass from later in the fourteenth century feature a striking departure from earlier models. Like the verre églomisé reliquaries which will be dis-cussed in Chapter 6, artworks by Giotto’s workshop (Figure 3.6), Paolo di Giovanni Fei (Figure 3.7) and Lorenzo Monaco treat the gilded glass almost like a canvas rather than a reflective element. In his panel of the Madonna and Child now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Paolo di Giovanni Fei inserted eleven verre églomisé medallions into the frame, two of which are now lost, and a larger one into the cen-ter of the panel to serve as the Madonna’s brooch. In a manner very distinct from any of the previously discussed works, each of these small glass roundels features a modeled human face with detailed physiognomy and hairstyle, demonstrating the artist’s keen interest in humanism and naturalism. The large roundel in the center of the painting features Christ, who looks directly outward toward the viewer and thus conveys a stoic, somber mood, while the saints depicted in the frame exhibit a livelier tone. The figures found in the frame, who have been identified as Peter, Paul, Matthew, John the Evangelist, John the Baptist, and Catherine of Alexandria, along with the Virgin Annunciate and the Angel Gabriel, appear to turn inward and gaze intently toward the Madonna and Child at the center of the painted panel.

Because these images are etched into the gold leaf, they have a sketch-like aesthetic. The linear quality makes them seem immediate and animated, as if the figures were caught in a specific moment or mid-gesture. As Silvana Pettenati observes, the graphic quality also, in a sense, makes them some of the only sur-viving drawings of the trecento.55 Cennini seems to corroborate such a claim, as he too equated such imagery with the process of drawing. In his instructions for verre églomisé, he described how one should,

Take a needle, fastened in a little stick as if it were a little brush, and have it quite sharp pointed. And, with the name of God, begin to draw lightly with this needle whatever figure you wish to make. And have this first drawing show very little, for it can never be erased; and therefore work lightly until you get your drawing settled; then proceed to work as if you were sketching with a pen, for this work has to be done freehand.56

Thus, like traditional drawings, these etched panels give the viewer a sense of the artist’s gestures, and therefore their intimate, creative process. And yet, unlike

Figure 3.6: Workshop of Giotto, Christ Surrounded by Mary and St. John, ca. 14th century, The Bandini Collection, Fiesole. Source: Francesco Bini via Wikimedia Commons (CC BY-SA 3.0).

Figure 3.7: Paolo di Giovanni Fei, Detail of Madonna and Child showing the central roundel and four glass roundels in the frame, ca. 1370s, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Bequest of George Blumenthal, 1941 (41.190.13). Source: Public Domain, The Metropolitan Museum of Art (CC0).

traditional drawings, there is an aesthetic tension inherent in these images that does not allow the viewer to fully immerse themselves in the detailed naturalism.

The uneasy juxtaposition within the gold glass stems from the combination of two different types of lighting, referred to as surface light and pictorial light by Paul Hills in his influential book The Light of Early Italian Painting.57 Hills defines surface light as the reflective highlights created by ambient light bouncing off smooth surfaces, and therefore this type of light is akin to the previously dis-cussed concept of splendor. As previously disdis-cussed, the act of viewing of surface light was an experience that could have been interpreted as a powerful connection between the viewer and the holy image, as light and spiritual enlightenment were commonly associated with each other. In his discussion of gilded paintings, Hills notes how “the light of Christ’s brightness could literally shine upon the eyes;

and this physical light entering the eyes would have been intuitively understood as metaphor for spiritual illumination.”58 Though Hills discusses panel paintings, the same concept could certainly have applied to the many examples of gilded glass under discussion in this chapter, and furthermore, such an analysis supports the connection between Franciscan light theology and the artistic uses of gilded glass discussed previously.

Pictorial light, on the other hand, is defined by Hills as the illusionistic light-ing within a work of art that expressed mass and depth through the description of highlights and shadows. In the glass roundels by Paolo di Giovanni Fei, instances of pictorial light are found within the highlights and shadows of the figures.

More specifically, pictorial light is evident in the modeling that defines the Virgin Annunciate’s cheeks, chin, and neck. As she recoils from Gabriel’s message, the side of the Virgin’s face farthest from the viewer is heavily shadowed. In a similar way, the areas just below her eyes, lips, and chin are also modeled with shadow to create depth.

Lorenzo Monaco engaged with similar techniques in his Madonna of Humi- lity with Two Saints from 1408 in the Museo Civico of Turin and the extant fragment of The Virgin and Child Enthroned with Saint John the Baptist and Saint John the Evangelist from the late fourteenth century in the Louvre’s collec-tion.59 In both these verre églomisé panels, the imagery inscribed into the gold leaf is highly modeled, detailed, and spatially complex. Adding an even more painterly quality to the works is the fact that they use different colors through-out the backing pigment. In the Louvre’s fragmented panel, for instance, the Madonna wears a red dress and blue mantle as she sits before a red cloth of honor that features a complicated organic pattern. The flanking figures of John the Baptist on the left and what is likely John the Evangelist on the right, are

equally impressive; in fact, their red draped clothing, facial expressions, and poses are closer to finished paintings than the sketch-like aesthetic of the roun-dels by Paolo di Giovanni Fei.

The interdependence of surface light and pictorial light within the gilded glass of Paolo di Giovanni Fei and Lorenzo Monaco is unusual in late medieval art as a whole. Not many artistic techniques simultaneously blend such a high degree of naturalism with such reflective surface sheen. One technique worth considering here is the depiction of figures, and even narrative scenes, found in enamel works. For instance, the scenes depicted in the enamel roundels of the Stavelot Triptych feature overlapping figures, which creates a sense of depth, and the clothing worn by the figures suggests physical bodies beneath that bend, twist, and show through the drapery. But such enamel scenes lack the subtle modulation of highlights and shadows found in the glass panels by Lorenzo Monaco or Paolo di Giovanni Fei where the physicality of the modeled faces is inextricably bound to the supernatural sparkle of the gold leaf.

In most other artworks and techniques, surface light and pictorial light lie on a continuum, and as Paul Hills observes, there was a general shift away from interest in surface light, which he saw as characteristic of the medieval aesthetic, toward a greater interest in illusionistic lighting effects, which he understood as characteristic of the Renaissance style.60 As this chapter has shown, however, much like Meiss’s theory on post-plague art, this paradigm does not readily apply to these specific examples of gilded glass.

Conclusions on Gilded Glass: Harnessing Divine

Im Dokument Seeing Renaissance Glass (Seite 87-90)