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Old world masters in new world collections

Chapter 120: FOOTNOTES:
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About This Book

A curated survey presents approximately one hundred and ten Old Master paintings in American private collections, reproducing portraits, religious and mythological subjects, and genre works from the thirteenth through the eighteenth centuries. The author outlines provenance and notable ownership, considers the role of dealers and patrons—including the influence of Sir Joseph Duveen—in transferring European masterpieces to the United States, and explains a selection principle centered on beauty, deliberately excluding violent or tragic subjects. Illustrated entries and commentary trace individual works back to their European origins and reflect on collecting trends, aesthetic priorities, and the cultural movement of art across the Atlantic.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “The early Byzantine masters represented the Madonna’s garments enriched with lines of gold. Giotto and the early Florentine painters as a rule preferred to suggest a plain material, often of delicate color except when the Madonna was portrayed as Queen of Heaven. In their devotional pictures the Sienese masters used gorgeous gold and red, or white and gold fabrics. Some of the Giotteschi and perhaps Gentile da Fabriano inherited from Siena their love of representing splendid textiles. Later color effects were made more of a study and deeper, richer tones appeared; but simple materials were represented except among the Venetians, who frequently in their pictures of both sacred and profane subjects painted elaborate, richly colored fabrics. This cult of splendor reached its height in the Sixteenth Century under Paolo Veronese.”—Mediæval and Renaissance Paintings (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[2] “The incident of the Adoration of the Magi is related only in the Gospel of Saint Matthew, and there very briefly; but many legends grew up around the Magi and Kings from the East. The number of the Magi was at first indeterminate, but about the Fourth Century the number three became general. It was not until the Fifth and Sixth Centuries that the Magi became Kings and not until the Tenth Century were they represented as crowned Kings. The Magi were for the first time pictured as of different ages, an old man, a middle-aged man, and a young man, in an Eastern manuscript dating from about 550. During the Middle Ages the exact age of each was given—the eldest was sixty, the youngest twenty, and the other forty years old. Their names, the Latin forms of which were Jaspar—later Gaspard—Balthasar, and Melchior, first appeared in a Greek Sixth Century manuscript. A passage attributed to Bede, quoted in Male’s Religious Art in France, Thirteenth Century, states that ‘Melchior, an old man with long, white hair and a long beard, offered gold, symbol of the divine kingdom. The second, named Caspar, young and beardless, with a ruddy countenance, honored Christ in presenting incense, an offering pointing to his divinity. The third, named Balthasar, with a dark skin and a full beard, testified in his offering of myrrh that the Son of Man must die.’ It was not until the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries that artists represented the third King as a negro, in accordance with the teachings of the theologians that the three Kings represented the three races of mankind coming to render homage to the Christ Child. The subject of the Adoration of the Magi was a favorite one with artists, particularly in the Fifteenth Century, as it lent itself to the richest and most elaborate treatment. The early legends asserted that St. Joseph did not appear; but in representations dating from the Fifteenth Century he is almost invariably present.”—Mediæval and Renaissance Paintings (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[3] “The legend which makes St. Luke a painter was of Eastern origin and was introduced into the West at the time of the First Crusade. There may have been a Greek painter of Madonnas named Luca whom the Western Church confused with the Evangelist, but the Evangelist was always regarded an authority on the characteristics of the Madonna. His Gospel gives the fullest account of her. The subject of St. Luke painting the portrait of the Madonna was frequently treated in the Middle Ages and in the Renaissance.“—Mediæval and Renaissance Paintings (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[4] “Double roses, pink or red, were the symbol of divine love and were consecrated to the Madonna. One of her titles was the Madonna della Rosa, doubtless based on the verse in the Song of Solomon (ii. 1)—‘I am the Rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys’—for as early as the first centuries the Fathers of the Church applied to the Madonna the imagery of the Canticles. The tradition is that when the roses were massed together in garlands or baskets they symbolized heavenly joys. The painters of Central Italy during the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries represented clusters of lilies and roses in the foreground of their Madonna pictures as votive offerings to her of sacred flowers. Often angels present bowls of flowers to her.

“Myrtle was one of the Madonna’s flowers and symbolized her purity and other virtues. The jasmine, though not strictly a sacred flower, is often found in religious paintings—the star-shaped blossom apparently symbolized divine hope or heavenly joy. It is often found with roses and lilies beside the Madonna. The carnation had no definite symbolic meaning, but was frequently used instead of the rose; then it had the same significance as the rose, the symbol of divine love, sacred to the Madonna.—Mediæval and Renaissance Paintings (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[5] “In general, representations of the Annunciation before the Twelfth Century are rare; but after the beginning of the Thirteenth Century they become very frequent, appearing somewhere on every altar-piece—in medallions, or quatrefoils above the main panels, in the pinnacles, or in the predella, or painted, or carved on the outside of the shutters. The subject was often treated as a mystery, not as an actual scene. Generally only the Virgin and Angel were represented, although it was not unusual to find other figures. From the end of the Fourteenth until the Sixteenth Century, God the Father is often seen in the sky and the Dove of the Holy Spirit descends from Him to the Virgin on rays of light. The Virgin was represented seated, standing, about to rise at the approach of the Angel, or kneeling. Gabriel was pictured standing, or kneeling, before her, or just alighting on the earth, his feet not yet touching the ground. In the Thirteenth Century representations, notably in the painted glass windows, the Virgin and the Angel stand face to face; later the Italian artists represented the scene as taking place in an open loggia, while the Flemish artists painted the Virgin in meditation in her room when the Angel appeared to her. Before the Thirteenth Century, Mary was often represented with a basket of wool, or distaff as, according to the Protevangelion, she continued to spin for the Temple after she had become affianced to Joseph and was working when the Angel came. Gabriel bears the light staff, or sceptre, of a herald, a scroll on which is inscribed his greeting, an olive-branch, or a stalk of lilies.

“The lily probably was developed from a flower with a long stalk which was introduced during the Thirteenth Century appearing in glass-painting and miniatures and signifying springtime, ‘the time of flowers,’ when the Annunciation took place. Later, lilies were used to symbolize the purity of the Virgin and were placed in a jar, or vase, near her, or were carried by the Angel. In Spain the vase of lilies was almost essential to representations of the Annunciation and became the special and distinguishing attribute of the Virgin. The Spanish Order of the Lily of Aragon, established by Ferdinand of Castile in commemoration of a victory over the Moors in 1410, had for its badge ‘pots filled with white lilies interlaced with griffins, to which was pendent a medal having thereon an image of the Virgin Mary.’ In Italy, neither the vase of lilies nor the stalk was considered essential in representations of the Annunciation, although they are of frequent occurrence. Certain of the Florentine artists, notably Fra Filippo Lippi, represented both. Ghirlandaio, in his Annunciation at San Gimigniano, placed a vase beside the Virgin’s desk and combined other flowers—roses, daisies, and jasmine—with the lilies. The Angel bears the lily-stalk.

“It is interesting to note that while in the majority of Fourteenth- and Fifteenth-Century Annunciations the Archangel Gabriel was represented bearing a lily, the Sienese painters seldom used this flower, preferring the olive-branch, always a favorite symbol with them. In the Annunciation it referred to the Christ Child as the bringer of peace on earth. One interpretation of the avoidance of the use of the lily by Sienese artists is that it was due to the hatred of Siena for Florence, the lily being the flower of Florence.”—Mediæval and Renaissance Paintings (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[6] Col. G. F. Young, The Medici (London, 1910).

[7] Julia Cartwright, The Painters of Florence (London, 1916).

[8] Col. G. F. Young, The Medici (London, 1909).

[9] Col. G. F. Young, The Medici (London, 1909).

[10] “The pomegranate in the hand of the Child, bursting open and showing the seeds, has been variously interpreted. It may be a symbol of the hope in eternity, which the Christ gave to man, signified by the unexpected sweetness of the fruit within the hard rind. In the writings of the early Fathers the fruit is also interpreted as the emblem of congregations, because of its many seeds, or as the emblem of the Christian Church because of the inner unity of countless seeds in one and the same fruit.”—Mediæval and Renaissance Painting (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[11] Berenson.

[12] “Space composition differs from ordinary composition in the first place most obviously in that it is not an arrangement to be judged as extending only laterally, or up and down, on a flat surface, but as extending inwards in depth as well. It is composition in three dimensions and not in two, in the cube, not merely on the surface.... Painted space composition opens out the space it frames in, puts boundaries only ideal to the roof of heaven. All that it uses whether the forms of the natural landscape, or of grand architecture, or even of the human figure, it reduces to be its ministrants in conveying a sense of untrammelled, but not chaotic, spaciousness. In such pictures how freely one breathes,—as if a load had just been lifted from one’s breast; how refreshed, how noble, how potent one feels; again, how soothed; and, still again, how wafted forth to abodes of far-away bliss!”

[13] Julia Cartwright, Beatrice d’Este (London, 1908).

[14] Julia Cartwright, Beatrice d’Este (London, 1908).

[15] Beryl de Sélincourt, Venice (London, 1907).

[16] “In the north of Italy garlands of fruit took the place of votive flowers. In pictures of Florentine origin, when the Madonna holds a single rose, she is represented as the Madonna del Fiore—Our Lady of the Flower—to whom the Cathedral at Florence was dedicated.

“Fruits in general symbolized the fruits of the spirit, or a votive offering, or were often used purely for decorative purposes. The cherries which the Angels offer to the Child are the fruit of Heaven, typifying the delights of the blessed. In a picture by Memling in the Uffizi, the Child holds in one hand a cluster of cherries—the fruit of Paradise—while with the other He reaches out for the apple offered Him by an Angel. This typifies His relinquishment of heavenly joys and His taking upon Himself the sin of the world.

“The apple and the gourd were often painted together by artists, notably Crivelli. The use of the gourd dates back to the wall-pictures in the catacombs, where Jonah was represented as the type of the Risen Christ and the gourd as the symbol of the Resurrection. As the apple was the fruit of Eden which brought sin into the world, so the gourd represented the Resurrection which saved the world from the consequences of its sin. In early pictures the apple sometimes represents the fruit of Paradise, which the King of Heaven brings down to earth with Him. In general, however, it is used as the symbol of the sin of the world which Christ takes upon Himself.”—Mediæval and Renaissance Paintings (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[17] Beryl de Sélincourt, Venice (London, 1907).

[18] It is interesting to see that Vasari calls Dürer a Fleming!

[19] This reminds us of the old Nursery rhyme:

“Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye;
Four-and-twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing;
Wasn’t that a dainty dish
To set before the King?”

Undoubtedly this jingle is an echo of the jokes and “pleasantries” in confectionery and pastry that were perpetrated by the Mediæval chefs.—E. S.

[20] This was a fashion of the period, originating in Italy (see pages 51, 86, 103).

[21] “The introduction of little angels singing vigorously and playing on musical instruments about the Madonna’s throne was a favorite motif of the Umbrian Boccatis. Indeed, angel musicians were represented by artists of all Schools from the Twelfth to the Seventeenth Century. They stand or kneel before the Madonna and Child, or—particularly in Venetian and North Italian paintings—sit on the steps of the throne, playing on lutes, harps, viols, miniature organs, blowing horns and trumpets, striking cymbals and triangles or beating drums and timbrels, and singing their songs of praise and adoration. They make a delightful note of joyousness in representations of the Madonna and Child and are among the happiest creations of painters and sculptors.”—Mediæval and Renaissance Paintings (Fogg Art Museum, Cambridge, 1927).

[22] For surprises in pastry, see page 160.

[23] Strawberry Hill Simeon had not then been discovered.

[24] Leslie and Taylor, Life and Times of Sir Joshua Reynolds (London 1865).

[25] William Smith (1756–1835) was a politician who took a great interest in literature and art. He was a friend of Sir Joshua Reynolds, for whose Mrs. Siddons as The Tragic Muse he paid £320 at the Calonne Sale in 1795 and sold it to Mr. G. W. Taylor for £900. At the Taylor Sale in 1823 the picture cost Earl Grosvenor £1,837. It passed recently to America along with Gainsborough’s Blue Boy.

“This picture Sir Joshua Reynolds valued at 1000 guineas—a large sum in his day—but notwithstanding all the encomiums passed upon it, The Tragic Muse remained on his hands for several years. At length it was purchased from the artist for £800 by M. de Calonne, the ex-minister of finance in France.

“When M. de Calonne’s pictures were sold by Skinner and Dyke on March 28, 1795, The Tragic Muse was bought by Mr. Smith of Norwich for £700 and Mr. Smith sold it privately to Mr. G. Watson Taylor for £900. At the sale of Mr. Taylor’s pictures in 1823 it was purchased by Earl Grosvenor for £1,837-10. Inherited by the Dukes of Westminster, The Tragic Muse hung for many years in Grosvenor House, in company with Gainsborough’s Blue Boy until it was sold in 1921 to the late Mr. Henry E. Huntington.”

[26] William T. Whitley, Gainsborough (London, 1915).

[27] William T. Whitley, Gainsborough (London, 1915).

[28] William B. Boulton, Gainsborough, 1907.

[29] Maria’s sister Louisa had married the Hon. and Rev. Frederick Keppel, second son of the Earl of Albemarle.

[30] Maria’s sister who married Lionel, fifth Earl of Dysart.

[31] Name for evening dress.

[32] Maurice W. Brockwell, Taft Catalogue of Paintings (New York, 1920).

[33] Thomas Gainsborough (London, 1915).

[34] The portrait of Henrietta Maria (see page 193) is another example.

[35] Humphrey Ward.

[36] Angelica Kauffman, the famous painter.

Transcriber’s Notes:

1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been corrected silently.

2. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have been retained as in the original.