Skip to main content

Nicola Pisano, 'Adoration of the Magi', Pisa Baptistery Pulpit Panel

 


In this complex, lively, exciting pulpit panel the eye looks up towards the monumentality of the Virgin, who commands this scene. She is massive and powerful, the largest figure with thick swathes of drapery delineating her forcefully protruding knees out into the viewer's space. Seated but still retaining dominance, she defines the classicising style of Nicola Pisano, witnessed throughout the panels of his pulpit in Pisa. Many writers have described the style - Eloise Angiola for instance, refers to the 'sophisticated understanding of classical prototypes to create heroic human forms' in Nicola's pulpit. Certainly in Pisa the prominent debris from the classical past remained visible and Nicola easily had access to various ancient sarcophagi for direct emulation here. The Virgin's features with her serene expression and curled hair beneath the mantle are in fact quite androgenous. She quickly assumes the position of a monumental Roman Emperor or Senator commanding the people below, recalling the iconography of triumphal ancient Roman arches. 

Despite the complex rendering and relief work in marble by Nicola, the scene is surprisingly readable. There is also a sense of space between figures, again to enhance this readability. Compare this work to the pulpits of Nicola's son Giovanni, for instance, and any spaciousness (and thus a degree of readability) quickly disappears. Here however Nicola varies his figures - some kneel, some stand, some look out towards the viewer, whilst some are too engrossed in the action of the Adoration itself. The three Magi are identifiable by gifts and crowns, and the Magus who stands is particularly characterful, gesturing with pious emotion towards the towering Virgin. This figure assumes the pose of an onlooker, perhaps in a suggestion of how one might behave in front of this pulpit. Certainly in Trecento imagery, the gap between viewer and image was thinning, spurred on by devotional tracts and engaging sermons delivered in these ecclesiastical spaces. Meanwhile two figures look out to the viewer, an angel identified by their wings, and a bearded figure behind the Virgin, most likely Joseph. It is interesting that Nicola chooses to give Joseph such a prominent role, a direct connection to the viewer and thus their focal point of entry. Normally Joseph is a side character or often a comic component - during the Nativity and Adoration in Giotto's Arena Chapel, Joseph is soundly asleep in both representations. 

Most interesting here however, is the individualism of Nicola's style: though the Adoration of the Magi is a story repeatedly told in art, Nicola personalises it. This is particularly seen in his representation of animals. Nicola chooses horses instead of camels, again a link to his classicising predilections. With their wide eyes and open mouths, the animals are humanised, with one dipping its head perhaps to offer respect towards the Virgin, or even to reflect the kneeling stances of the Magi. The three horses are included to illustrate the arrival of the Magi and thus offer implications of a continuous narrative happening in the here and now. Sculpture was immensely important to the art of painting in the Trecento - without these Italian examples, supplemented by the art of France, it is highly unlikely painters including Giotto would have achieved such a short term, accelerated development in their art in both fresco and panel painting. It is often the case in art history that sculpture is placed second to painting, but during this period especially, it is more instructive to flip that narrative - sculpture paved the way for many painterly developments and the art of the brush was in fact playing catch up throughout the Trecento. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Mark Rothko, 'Light Red over Black', 1957

  My eye is not drawn to the painting itself but the title of the painting, 'Light Red Over Black'. We would automatically think that the black is on top of a red background, but Rothko has flipped this around, subverting the title just like he subverting the meaning of what it was to be an artist and what Art actually was. During this time, art was going through rapid changes, with abstract expressionism coming into full force (Rothko, Pollock). But Rothko showed that all this change was for the good, even if for him, it was short lived.  The colour red in this painting is searing and the black struggles to fully cover this velvety border, especially at the bottom of the canvas. Unlike the black squares which have a hazy quality to their edges, the red is clear and impregnable. It is hard to figure out what this represents - the Tate has suggested a window perhaps, but if it is a window then what are we looking out into? Perhaps it is night, or perhaps the viewer is catching ...

Egon Schiele, 'Dead Mother', 1910

  My eye is drawn to the hand. Those long, bony fingers are so characteristic of Schiele but here they are particularly skeletal and deathly – the veins seem to have been injected with poison. And they are a warning right in the foreground of the painting that keeps the viewer at bay as an outsider to this incredibly intimate relationship between mother and child, and sets the tone of death and mortality which hangs over the whole image. The mother cradles her child in a womb-like shroud, alluding to childbirth and the death of the mother explained in the title. She seems desperate to feel that bodily connection with her child, highlighted by the emphasis on her craned neck as she tries to connect to the baby. There is a clear link between the mother’s bent neck and the child’s bent neck, again emphasising their longing to be with each other. However, the darkness around the child is almost like ropes, with flecks of white in the painting making it look as though the darkness is wo...

M.K. Ciurlionis, 'Funeral Symphony VII', 1903

  There are many who have been left out of the art historical canon and Lithuanian artist and composer Mikalojus Ciurlionis is one of them. Producing over 200 musical works and 300 paintings, his career was extensive, prolific and multifaceted. Yet, he was a 'genius cursed by fate' according to artist and critic Alexandre Benois, dying from exhaustion in 1911. Praised within his lifetime, Ciurlionis is virtually invisible today, especially to a Western viewer. Describing one artwork by Ciurlionis is not enough to appreciate his diversity and synthesis of artforms - pastels, as this work shows, vignettes, oils, designs for stained glass, even abandoning the easel for cardboard. More importantly, he was indebted to the Lithuanian landscape. Ichiro Kato refers to him as 'Lithuanian in nature and national feeling...a genius from the Baltic lands', reflected in works including  Serenity depicting idyllic, peaceful settings of mountains and lakes, devoid of humanity. Like man...