There is so much detail that the eye could take in, yet there is so much empty space. This is foregrounded by Giorgione's precise rendering of multiple textures. The shine of the armour almost glistens as though the paint is still wet, and would have fitted with the chapel display beside a window, which also corresponds with the shadows of the figures. The dress of Saint Francis suggests weight and mass, especially as the arms of his clothing drape down to articulate his gestures. These realistic folds are repeated in the velvet, crimson draperies of the Virgin who sits atop the extreme vertical of her throne. Her weighted clothing has Northern European connotations akin to the works of van Eyck or Antonella da Messina. Texture extends to the drooping standard that Saint George wields, and also to the rendering of the naturalistic landscape behind the figures. The trees on the far right of the piece really could be bending in the breeze. Finally, there is architectural texture, most noticeable in the porphyry sarcophagus. Our eye, like the Virgin's gaze, is drawn downwards to this unusual and rich material, highly unique in Renaissance sacre conversazione depictions. The expansive floor recedes back towards the sarcophagus, demonstrating Giorgione's ability to also accurately render space.
Giorgione's paintings are often difficult to decipher and this piece is no exception, particularly when it comes to the porphyry sarcophagus. It is a significant symbol in the painting, turning it from a simple, devotional altarpiece into a funerary monument. The painting is actually the first documented work by Giorgione where a patron's name survives; Tuzio Costanzo commissioned the piece in memory of the death of his son Matteo. This Sicilian family were influential in Venice, and the painting is designed to look down upon Matteo's funerary monument in the chapel, although does no longer reside in its original location. It was already odd for Giorgione to accept the commission - not only does his oeuvre consist of a handful of paintings, but he is known for producing smaller paintings for private settings focusing on portraiture and rich iconography. He would not have needed assistants for these types of commissions, so it is unlikely he had a workshop. Some have suggested he may have trained in the Bellini workshop in Venice, due to similarities in figural types and colour. But Giorgione has always surpassed Giovanni Bellini in terms of uniqueness and this piece illustrates that. Not only is it proportionally and iconographically unique, but the artist has also used tempera. In a period where oils were becoming the desired medium, this old fashioned technique is certainly an interesting choice, and the reasons why remain undiscovered.
Perhaps the original glory of this piece has been lost. Beverly Brown writes that there have been at least ten restoration campaigns since 1643. The landscape on the upper right has been heavily repainted. However, our eye can still make out the buildings in the background, the iconography unclear. Is the tower being rebuilt, perhaps to signal a new age, or is it disintegrating, fitting with the overall theme of grief and mourning? The saints have also been retouched. The painting was even stolen in the 1970s. It continues to command attention, and its full meaning still alludes critics. But it remains a vital part of the very sparse knowledge we have on the brief yet rich career of Giorgione.
Comments
Post a Comment