[(By an Amateur, in The Architect, a weekly illustrated
journal of art, civil engineering and building, Vol. XII, Sept. 26,
1874, Published at 175 Strand, W.C. (London, 1874), p. 183.]
Venetian art-history is very obscure, and it is often difficult
to distinguish and individualise the lesser painters who crowded the
Schools of the Great Masters, and who generally followed so closely
the several styles and methods of their models, that they almost
lost their own individuality. At that great period, the close of the
15th century, the disciples of Vivarini, of the Bellinis, and
others, renowned painters were most numerous; amongst them a few
stand apart, and above the rest, taking a distinct place, and rising
to the rank of great and original painters themselves.
Vittore Carpaccio is pre-eminently one of these, and it was our
good fortune to discover him, and enjoy his works for the first
time, during a recent visit to Venice. Nor is it wonderful that a
mere amateur in art-study should have failed to find out this great
man before, when we know that till lately some of our first
art-critics have lived in ignorance of Vittore Carpaccio, and that
none of his works is in any public gallery in England.
Yet it is hardly possible that anyone can have passed without
notice the large picture by Carpaccio of the Presentation of the
Infant in the Temple, which now hangs in the largest Sala of the
Accademia delle Belle Arti in Venice. The picture rivets your gaze,
notwithstanding the paleness of its colours, rendered still paler by
its nearness to the burning hues of Titian and Paris Bordone.
Its quietness and simplicity are the more remarkable, nor can we
fail to be struck by the great beauty of the composition, by the
quaint grace of the three boy-figures at the feet of the Virgin,
sitting and making melody in their hearts, and with their long taper
fingers on lutes and other instruments, and looking with dreamy eyes
straight out of the picture; and by the rich draperies of the
Vecchio Simone, the long folds of whose sacerdotal garb are so
important in the composition, if not suitable to the saint. This
work, probably the very finest ever painted by Carpaccio, has been
so cleaned, painted over, rubbed, and otherwise "restored," that one
hardly feels in it now the touch and spirit of great genius. But
after passing through the large room where it hangs, we come upon a
series of pale cold-coloured pictures, by the same hand, which,
faded and battered, as most of them are, at once arrested and
carried one away to the distant mythical days of middle-age
devotion, when St. Ursula lived and led her 11,000 virgins to suffer
and die. One cannot choose but believe it all in looking at these
pictures. Carpaccio paints her life as if he lived it, all is so
frank, simple, and careful; from that opening chapter of it where,
in the early dawn, she lies asleep on her bed in the wide chamber,
with its stately hangings, polished floor, and carved wood-work,
with eyes serenely closed, and an angel comes in with the first
sunbeam at the open door, a martyr's palm in his hand, and she,
waking or sleeping, knows what her life shall be. This, perhaps, is
her dream at Cologne, when she was already some way on her
pilgrimage; but we have earlier scenes of her life, though they were
neither painted in chronological order, nor are they hung with
regard to their proper sequence.
We know the legend, which some have tried to make more probable
by suggesting that XI. M. V. merely meant eleven martyred
virgins! The fact that stands as basis to the story is that a noble
maiden and several of her companions were actually murdered for
their faith near Cologne: at that dark time when Christianity was
struggling with heathenism in Germany, from the third to the fifth
century. As the story goes, Ursula was a Princess of Brittany, a
wonder of beauty and learning, asked in marriage by all the nobles
around, refusing all till the Prince of England came forward. So
urgent are the entreaties of his ambassadors, that she consents, but
on certain conditions, which she hopes will deter him from carrying
his suit further, for she has really vowed to marry no one, but to
devote her life to heaven. Her terms are, that a thousand noble
maidens shall be given as her attendants, and to each one of these a
thousand, and that he and they shall be allowed freedom for three
years to depart and visit the shrines of the saints. One of the
finest of the series of pictures is that in which the "Re Mauro"
receives the ambassadors from England. In the centre the King sits
on a throne surrounded by his attendants, behind we see a landing
place, and buildings characteristic of a town near the sea.
Carpaccio was wonderfully truthful and careful in his surroundings,
and is remarkable for the perfection of his architectural detail and
perspective. In all points of costume, too, he is most exact, and
seems quite at home in the highly ornamented and complicated dress
of his time. There are side compartments to this large picture of
the reception of the ambassadors, in which we see the King seated,
with his head on his hand, in a melancholy aspect, whilst his
daughter stands beside as if comforting him. An old crippled nurse
sits on the steps in the foreground, also meditative and mournful.
She is a most characteristic figure, and appears to bear a
sympathetic part in the story, for we meet her again at its
tragic close, where she is witness to the fearful end of her lovely
mistress, a presentiment of which is, perhaps, before her now in
this early scene. To continue the story — the Prince consents to all
conditions, and troops of noble maidens from Scotland, France, and
Cornwall come flocking to Brittany, where knights and nobles crowd
to behold them, and there, assembling her virgins "in a meadow near
the city, which meadow was of the freshest green, all over enamelled
with the brightest flowers," Ursula ascended "a throne which was
raised in the midst." She preaches to them in such moving terms that
with one accord they vow to cast in their lot with her, and follow
her wherever she goes. Carpaccio has not taken this beatiful scene
as one of the illustrations in the life of the fair saint; but,
except for the difficulties of representing this great multitude of
maidens, it would be a lovely subject to depict the beautiful Ursula
enthroned above them all, amidst the flowers, and green grass, and
sunshine of the sweet spring time. The painter gives us, instead,
the Return of the Ambassadors to England, and The Meeting
of Prince Canon and his Bride, St. Ursula. The Prince is
represented as handsome and youthful; St. Ursula is generally in
profile, with a sweet, pale, grave face. We see the parting between
her and her parents. They embrace her with tears; she looks sad and
quiet; the old nurse weeps behind. Carpaccio goes on to the arrival
at Cologne; but before they all reach so far, they encounter many
risks, for they set out on their voyage to Rome alone, managing
their ships themselves, without the help of sailors, and so, of
course, meet with sundry disasters, including their detention at
Cologne, which is sadly out of the direct route. Before departing,
St. Ursula had prayed the Prince to stay and comfort her father, but
some say he insisted on following her; at any rate, in Carpaccio's
pictures he soon reappears on the scene. He paints for us the ships
full of virgins arriving at Cologne. We see them in all directions;
they cover the decks, they look out of the portholes with serene
curiosity.
At Cologne, St. Ursula has her dream that on return there she
will suffer martyrdom. Then on to Rome they go, over the Alps,
conducted by six strong angels, who clear the way before them, level
all obstacles, guard them from the avalanches, and pitch tents for
their shelter at night. So they come to the Tiber and the Sacred
City. Carpaccio paints how Pope Cyriacus, greatly astonished and,
perhaps, somewhat discomposed at the arrival of this goodly
multitude, goes out to meet them with all his clergy. He receives
them with grave dignity; St. Ursula kneels in devotion; the grave
faces of the bishops in their mitres mingle with the youthful heads
of the virgins, their joyful and pious attitudes and the priestly
dignity of their reception produce a most impressive and picturesque
scene. In the distance is the Castle of St. Angelo. By this time
Prince Conon has joined his bride, and kneels with her at the feet
of the Pope. He is baptized afterwards, and vows to share all her
privations and to die with her.
After visiting the Holy Shrines St. Ursula wishes to depart, but
the Pope himself must needs go with her, and a company of bishops
and priests. They arrive at Cologne, after great perils, to find it
besieged by the barbarians. And now the end soon comes. Carpaccio
goes to it at once, and after St. Ursula's reception at Rome, paints
at once her martyrdom; for the heathen captains in Rom were in
terror lest all those Christian maidens should convert the nation
and christianise it altogether, and had sent secret orders to
Cologne to exterminate them on their arrival there. They are all
slaughtered, with first the Prince, at the feet of his bride — we
see them in Carpaccio's picture — hewn down, stabbed, transfixed by
arrows — all meeting their fate without resistance. St. Ursula
stands alone, and beholds the death of her husband, who has
sacrificed his life for love of her; the fierce soldiers, awed by
her beauty, do not touch her at first, then they carry her to their
chief, who says if she will marry him he will spare her life and
make her Queen of Germany. At her lofty refusal, he shoots her with
three arrows, and so she dies. On one side of the great picture of
the massacre, Carpaccio represents her lying on her bier, her long
golden hair around her. She looks lovely and at peace. Then follows
the last picture in the series — her Glorification. She
stands on the palms of all the virgins bound together. The Almighty,
surrounded by cherubs, looks down upon her; her face is upturned,
her hands folded; the virgins pass around, looking up. Pope Cyriacus
and several bishops are amongst the kneeling virgins. The faces of
the virgins are most beautiful and varied in expression. Throughout,
the virgins are in the Venetian costume of the fifteenth century.
All these pictures are so injured that there is little trace left
of the "ruddy colour" for which Carpaccio was noted. He was already
celebrated before painting these works, being first in the
school of Vivarini, then of Gentile Bellini, and always much under
the Bellini influence, though never so much as to lose his
individuality. It seems to us that as a painter he is himself and no
one else. No work of his maturity could be taken to be by any other
hand. Carpaccio came from Istria, the place and date of his birth
are uncertain. In contemporary records he is called "Scarpaza," and
by Vasari "Scarpaccia." One of his first great works was an altar
piece for the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, which he painted in
conjunction with Vivarini and Bellini. The life of St Ursula was
begun in 1490 for the Scuola or Refuge of St. Ursula, which stood
close to the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, but is now suppressed.
The first subject he chose from it was the Saint's arrival at
Cologne. Carpaccio had studied perspective, and learnt all that was
known about it from Bellini's master in the same science. His
greatest work, The Presentation in the Temple, of which we
have spoken, was painted in 1508-10, for the church of San Liobbe,
where one of Bellini's masterpieces already stood, so he possibly
put forth ail his power to produce a not unworthy companion, and
succeeded, for even in the picture as it now stands, after all its
scrubbing and repainting, we recognise his capo d'opera.
Carpaccio painted also another series of nine small easel
canvasses, and an altar piece, for the Scuola di San Giorgio di
Schiavone. This was originally a refuge founded by the Dalmatians in
Venice for the relief of distressed seamen of Dalmatian birth.
Carpaccio was chosen to decorate it with pictures, and he took as
bis subject incidents from the Life of our Lord, and of the
Patron-Saints of Dalmatia and Albania, St. Jerome, St. George, and
St. Trifone. These are said to be amongst his most beautiful works,
and are still to be seen, comparatively uninjured, in the Scuola di
San Giorgio. It was not the good fortune of the writer to find them
out during his short visit to Venice.
There is little else left in Carpaccio's work. He seems to have
declined in after years, and sad to say his later works are his
feeblest. He painted for churches in Istria certainly up to the year
1519, and his latest known picture is in the church of Pozzale near
Cadore. We cannot help mourning that this man, who could paint the
story of St. Ursula with such power and pathos, should not have
grown stronger and greater with advancing years, so that Vittore
Carpaccio should have left us other pictures before which we might
stand, and, as Zanetti did before this life of St Ursula, watch
their wonderful effect on the minds of the people. Zanetti says, and
we can well believe it: "I myself could hardly turn away my eyes
from that charming figure of the saint, where, asleep on her maiden
couch — all grace, purity, and innocence — she seems, by the
expression on her beautiful features, to be visited by dreams from
Paradise."
But we cannot be too grateful for this and the other beautiful
works of his maturity, and recommend all who do not yet know
Carpaccio to make acquaintance with them before time and the hands
of the "restorers" shall have done them further injury.
Source: Google Books