Nice pictures. I'm looking forward to seeing more, via Interlibrary Loan.
Huck wrote,
Similar the case of the Mantegna Tarocchi. If it had been made 1465 and was of the special "high technical quality" of this early time, and distributed quickly and caused immediately many imitations ... we would know the designer.
But if we assume a slow development with different stations, the authors naturally stays hidden, as in the end nobody was there, who "really made it". In the case, that Sweynheim was the engraver, he couldn't claim the invention of the 5x10-system nor the invention of the motifs, he just would have been the last technical hand.
I, too, am assuming a slow development, with no one person as "the artist": a designer in the 1450s, not for engravings; another designer 1461-1465, with engravings possibly in mind; an engraver, probably in a different city; and a printer, maybe in a different city yet. If the engraver was Mantegna, he certainly wouldn't want to claim credit, because the engravings aren't in his style. They're not in Zoppo's individual style, either: he wants to appeal to a sophisticated crew who likes putti doing weird things. The onl way to know who did it might be to follow the money-trail. And we don't have it.
Huck wrote,
you haven't 50 pictures to point to, you have only fragments
Well, of course if someone bought 25 or 30 of them, he'd have more. But I've never heard that being in possession of a set of prints was an argument for him being the designer.
I have finally read Ludovico Lazarelli's famous poem,
De Gentilium Deorum Imaginibus, in William J. O'Neal's translation. So here I go again.
O'Neal has inserted 27 section-headings, for easy correlation to the "Mantegna." It is all quite predictable, just as you say it should be. The first 10 have the same names as the Spheres series in the "Mantegna," from First Cause to Luna. Then come 2 personified Liberal Arts, Musica and Poesia; then Apollo and all 9 of the Muses; and finally Athena, Juno, Neptune, Pluto, and Victory. Only one of the latter subjects corresponds to a "Mantegna" card, namely Athena, for which Lazarelli has used one of the Liberal Arts series, Philosophia. Included with the poem are 27 illuminations, 9 of which are reproduced in small black and white versions in Kaplan, Vol. 1, p. 27; 4 more are on trionfi.com; 1, Saturn, appears in both places. The description of each deity in the poem is enough like what is on the corresponding "Mantegna" card that it is clear, even for the illuminations I have not seen, that what is depicted in something like the figures on the cards, all except the last 4, which are quite different, as can be seen in Levenson and on Trionfi's website.
These contents correspond quite closely to the alleged report by Lazarelli's nephew, that Lazarelli bought "prints of the gods and the liberal arts" in a Venice bookstore. The "prints of the gods" that he bought are the 10 Spheres plus the 9 Muses and Apollo. Of the Liberal Arts prints, he used three of them. The others might have gone to Urbino, as Trionfi says, freely adapted there in illuminations for an edition of Martius Cappella.
So it seems that in Venice one could buy the engravings in separate lots of 10. The poem does not touch upon the Conditions of Man, and likewise the virtues, except that Libra is extolled as a fitting symbol for someone such as his patron:
(1, 353)...A worshipper of Justice needs suitable signs for himself where just Libra bears equal hours on its scale).
That, of course, was originally meant for Borso, who built a statue of himself holding the scales. So Borso died. It will do just as well for his new patron, Federico.
In his poem describing the various gods, Muses, and Liberal Arts, Lazarelli shows off his erudition by explicating the symbolism in the pictures, mostly putting into words the imagery depicted in the "Mantegna." But there are discrepancies, where the description and the card don't match in all details. For determining Lazarelli's relationship to the cards, these discrepancies are what is interesting
(1) I will start with Lazarelli's description of the Three Graces, corresponding to the right side of the Venus card in the "Mantegna."
Lazarelli says:
737ff. The Idalian nymphs, the fair and pleasing crowd of three, stand together with their bodies unclothed. They hold their arms together bound by interchanging bonds as often interchanging Love ties the bonds.
(Stant simul Idaliae nudato corpore nimphae,
Candida turba trium grataque turba trium.
Vincta tenent simul alternis sua brachia nodis,
Vt saepe alternus uincula nectit Amo.)
The first holds the light of her countenance and her eyes toward us. The rest of her group sees us in her gentle eyes. First, Pasithea enraptures us in her gentle fires. Aglaia revives those taken in with her flattery. Euphrosyne entangles them in fetters and strong chains, and she does not permit her captives to go back.
In the "Mantegna," the Three Graces are not actually shown holding their arms together in the way Lazarelli describes. The classical example is in for example in this 1486 medal of Giovanna Tornabuoni (from
http://www.fitzmuseum.cam.ac.uk/gallery ... medal.html). They are shown similarly in the April section of the Schifanoia frescoes, by Francesco del Cossa (many images on-line).
A later variation, the 1482
Primavera by Botticelli, shows them putting their arms together in a different way (image taken from
http://www.hektorparis.com/botticellis-la-primavera/). Unlike on the card, the arms still intertwine.
The rest of Lazarelli's description is interpretation, again different from both the traditional depiction and the "Mantegna" version. It is not flattering to the Graces. This view could perhaps be read into Botticelli's by a cynical observer: one of the Graces looking love-sick, but really trying to entrap Mercury, who warily avoids her gaze. It is more likely that Lazarelli is imagining something along the lines of an illustration in Gafurius's
Practica Musica of 1496, which Huck has already showed us. Let us look just at the top, where the Graces are to the left of Apollo. You will see the three nude ladies, their arms intertwined in a way that fits Lazarelli's description even better than the classical pose:
No hapless lover is in chains, but it does look as though the two facing Apollo are holding tight to the third one, and her to them, with the chains of their strong arms. This, like Lazarelli's, is a rather unflattering portrayal. It is part of a strong bias against Venus and her circle; Seznec, for example, shows us one medieval illumination that has Venus as a prostitute.
What is Lazarelli doing? I think we need to be aware that he wrote the poem intending his patron to be Borso d'Este, who was a life-long bachelor. I have found nothing written about his views on women, but we do know that he had the Belfiore Muses redone by Cosme Tura, and that the results were two Muses unbuttoning their tops and taking off their sandals, and one revealing a shapely ankle. Stephen Campbell, in one of his essays on the Muses referred to in my first post on this thread, says that they are being portrayed as seductresses. The poem's portrayal of them as enticing, flattering, and entrapping, is in the same vein. How his illuminatior treated the subject I don't know; I have not seen a reproduction of this picture. The "Mantegna," like its classical antecedents, shows them in an idealized way, one shyly covering parts of her body, the middle one looking up to heaven, and the third holding a flame. Lazarelli apparently prefers the other approach.
(2) Another discrepancy between the poem and the "Mantegna" is in the portrayal of the Prima Causa. In this case, the discrepancy is between Lazarelli's illumination and the E-series "Mantegna." Lazarelli's poetic description fits his illumination, but not the card.
the ancients long ago ascribed to him a circular form which contained the whole weight of the world beneath itself. (223) All things were within it, the First Changeable was within it, and the eight globes with constant mobility. And also the four-part order of elements was subjected to Him, Whom whatever breathes on the whole earth worships. He is the First Cause, He is the one Who orders everything to be moved, and He Himself presides over them from His fixed place... Also, the four animals narrate the acts which the Man born of a virgin did upon earth.
In the illumination (below) we see the series of circles that has the Prima Causa as the outermost. We also see the "four animals" in the corners; they represent the four elements and the four evengelists of Lazarelli's poem. In representations of God or Christ, the Deity often was in the center and these creatures put in the corners. Lazarelli's Prima Cause conforms to this tradition. Yet the E-series "Mantegna" card has merely blank spaces where these animals would be. So either Lazarelli changed the scene on the card to fit his conception, or the engraver of the card decided not to include the animals. It is perhaps noteworthy that the later S-series "Mantegna" followed Lazarelli and had the animals in (at
http://trionfi.com/mantegna/, number 50 in the E and S series).
Here are some other discrepancies.
(3) The poem gives Mercury a seven reed Pan-pipe:
789ff. Clothed in the dress of shepherds by the order of Jove, he played on seven reeds of unequal length.
(Conscius et iuuit dulcia furta Iouis,
Hicque Iouis iussu pastorum indutus amictu
Disparibus septem iam cecinit chalamis.)
But we see in the illumination (above), essentially the same as the E-series "Mantegna," that Mercury is shown with one reed, of one length. Why seven reeds, of seven lengths? From the context in the poem, it seems to me that he wants the notes to be the "music of the spheres," the seven notes of the musical scale corresponding to the seven traditional planets. He discusses this point in his exposition of Musica, the personification of Music.
1016ff. Seven tones were produced by the revolution of the sky, and the
reed-pipe of Pan had seven tones. Mercury constructed the seven tones of heaven
under the likeness of his heart and devised the first lyre.
Fiunt septenae caeli uertigine uoces
Et septem uoces fistula Panis habet.
Muniuit septem caeli sub imagine cordis
Mercurius primam comperuitque lyram.
Mercury's reeds are a bridge between the terrestrial and the celestial. If he doesn't have a lyre, he has to have a Pan's-pipe. For some reason, Lazarelli's illuminator didn't change the picture to suit Lazarelli's taste. But Lazarelli is in opposition to that image, found also in the "Mantegna," since his description of the instrument in the poem is so different.
(4) Here is part of Lazarelli's description of Luna, pertaining to her horns:
920ff. Cynthia was seen, brilliant with her shining horns and then Phoebus, having arisen with his shining horses, came forth.
Gentibus Ortigie Cinthia uisa fuit.
Cinthia uisa fuit fulgenti splendida cornu:
Hinc Phoebus nitidis exiit ortus equis.
984ff. The full moon shines with its disk renewed by its joined horns. She embraces the curved arms of eight-footed Cancer by whose hospitality she was made more moist. Then you can favorably store up anything in water for yourself.
Plena nouo iunctis cornibus orbe nitet.
Occupat octipedis iam concaua brachia canchri
Hospitio cuius redditur humidior.
Tunc poteris felix in aqua tibi condere quicquid
Luna is not depicted with horns either in Lazarelli's illumination or in the "Mantegna" card. Lazarelli is probably thinking of the horns as being the goddess's head, rather than being in front of her as on the card. It sometimes appears that way in alchemical illustrations, for example the one below, from Michael Maier's
Atalanta Fugiens of 1618.
And where is this "Cancer" Lazarelli talks about? He probably wants the depiction to parallel the Sun card, with its Scorpio in front. Just as the autumn, in Scorpio's month, follows the heat of the summer sun, as Lazarelli says in his section on Sol (lines 605-630), so moisture follows the Moon. But the illuminator did use this idea.
(5) Then there is Luna's chariot itself and its horses.
984ff. The full moon shines with its disk renewed by its joined horns. She embraces the curved arms of eight-footed Cancer by whose hospitality she was made more moist. Then you can favorably store up anything in water for yourself.
Plena nouo iunctis cornibus orbe nitet.
Occupat octipedis iam concaua brachia canchri
Hospitio cuius redditur humidior.
On the "Mantegna," the horses are both the same color, a light gray probably meant to represent white as seen in moonlight. In this case, the illuminator seems to have tried to follow Lazarelli's account: he has made one horse white, almost invisible in fact, the other black.
(6) Then there is Saturn.
Lazarelli describes Saturn as having a thin beard, unlike in the illumination and the card.
((445) By nature, meanwhile, he starts to cover his chin with signs of a beard and while he walks he fixes his small eyes on the ground.
445 Natus in hoc parua spargit lanugine mentum
Paruaque dum graditur lumina figit humi.
Lazarelli wants to contrast this meager beard with Jupiter's full one and the Sun's lack of beard:
509ff By nature he [Jupiter] has a blushing complexion with white mixed in. His hair is long and his full beard is becoming...
Horum letatur Iuppiter hospitio:
Natus habet uultum mixto candore rubentem,
Caesaries longa est barbaque plena decet.
...
655 Always the Sun is beardless and always beautiful in respect to his hair.
Semper et imberbis semper Sol crine decorus.
The
Practica Musica has a small suggestion of what Lazarelli wants more of.
But the "Mantegna" gives him a long beard, following the
Libellus; Lazarelli's iluminator does the same.
(7) In describing Jupiter, Lazarelli talks about a "three-pronged lightning bolt," where the "Mantegna" and Lazarelli's own illumination have only a single-pronged arrow:
467ff. Now Jupiter, sitting on his majestic throne and squeezing his three-pronged lightning bolt in his hand, must be sung by me. He is adorned in regal attire and
is serious in his expression. A royal golden crown binds his head.
Est mihi nunc residens augusta in sede canendus
Iuppiter astringens tela trisulca manu,
Regali ornatus cultu facieque seuerus,
Regia cui nectit fulua corona caput.
You will notice in the illustration (below) that there is a rainbow and a lady sitting on it. Lazarelli explains the bodies lying about underneath and the eagle overhead, but leaves out the rainbow and its lady, Iris:
471ff. The horrible bodies of the giants, whom the father struck down when he sent out the fire of lightning, lay scattered here and there. The winged arms-bearer of Jove, which carried lofty one the Idean prince to the stars, stands above with open wings. This is the form of Jove. These are the appearances of thunder...(479) Whence they ascribe the causes of things and whence the first religion of the ancients arose, I will explain this in a few words. When in war Jupiter overthrew his fleeing father, and Phlegra was a witness to such a great storm, he buried his enemies under the high mountains, and the rage of lightning consumed his savage enemies. Then he received all the reins of the world by conquering, and he was celebrated far and wide by the leaders so that the name of Jove and at the same time his monuments together would remain, and his pledge of friendship would stand for a long time.
Phlegra is the name of the place where Jupiter defeated the Titans; it is analogous to the rainbow that follows a storm, but Lazarelli uncharacteristically does not relate his story to the image.
(8)Then there is the poem's account of Apollo. Above is Lazarelli's illumination, the same as the "Mantegna"'s, to which we may suppose him referring
(73) Now I remember that I have seen you elsewhere bearing bow and quivers, sweet plectra and the lyre. The Penean virgin was washing her shining hair. Youths were present and cheeks without blemish. I saw you, Delphicus, among the Hyperborean griffins. I knew you beforehand. The crow was near you. Who changed your culture? Who changed the mark of honour of your brow? Perhaps I am not permitted to know everything.
He is perhaps thinking of the "Harmony of the Spheres" image of Apollo,or the one in the Schifanoia, which has the crow.
When he asks "Who changed your culture?" I think he is referring to the designer of the "Mantegna." Lazarelli has a suspicion that he is a Ferrarese, and if so, Borso might be able to stop this new, impoverished manner of depicting the god.
(9) When Lazarelli comes to Musica, Poesie, and the Muses, the discrepancies are more subtle, not contradictions as such between the poem and the cards, just innuendos I seem to be picking up, through his emphasis on some things and de-emphasis or omission of others.
He describes Musica mainly as ruling over singing. Here are some examples:
1030ff. Singing moves the feet with sure order. Singing brings on sleep and soothes bitter anxieties.
...
1040ff. A lover soothes his lover's dreams by singing. The heart of an angry mistress is bent by songs. The heart of an angry girl will become tearful if you sing before her doors.
Cantus agit certa sub ratione pedes,
Cantus agit somnos et curas lenit acerbas.
...
Cantus agit certa sub ratione pedes,
Cantus agit somnos et curas lenit acerbas.
Suppremit iratos cum furit ira nocens
In longum uitamque trahit morbisque medetur
Tristibus et suadet gaudia pectoribus.
He does include some examples of singing without words, but not nearly as many. Then at the end, as though to reconcile all this with the actual picture, he says
1057ff. Behold! Music resides on the swan's back, for among the birds the white swan sings very sweetly. A flute sits in her mouth and you see musical instruments around her. The reed pipe and the sweet-sounding lyre stand there. May whosoever sees this painted likeness of Singing be able to recognize properly the reason for her form.
Respice cigneo residet iam Musica tergo:
Nam canit inter aues dulcius albus olor.
Buxus in ore sedet circum instrumenta uidesque
Musica: stant calami dulcisonaeque lyrae.
Viderit hanc Cantus pictam quicumque figuram:
Iam formae causam noscere rite queat.
Despite the flute in her mouth, she is still "the painted likeness of singing," Lazarelli insists. He is a poet, after all: to him music is mainly poetry put to music.
Poesie is the one whom he worshipped from his first years; it is she who sings of great deeds and far places, despite the fact that "she forces out sweet measures of the boxwood flute from her mouth" (after II25). Lazarelli must have been aghast at the "Mantegna's" depiction of her with a flute in her mouth, she who is first and foremost the source of melodious words.
It is the same with the Muses. The first who comes, of course, is Clio, one of only two in the "Mantegna" who isn't playing an instrument:
2.166. Clio favors erudition, her love of praise.
Clio laudis amore cupit.
After describing Euterpre and her flute, he notes that
191. Each of her sisters holds musical instruments.
Instrumenta tenet iam musica quaeque sororum.
For a poet, that is hard to swallow. The
Practica Musica shows only Euterpe with an instrument; the rest are speaking (except Thalia, there one of the Graces).
Even in the Belfiore series, only three of the Muses had instruments (see
http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Studiolo_di_Belfiore). But in the "Mantegna," and presumably Lazarelli's versions in his manuscript, they all, following Capella, are playing their instruments.
One glaring omission from his interpretations is in regard to Thalia. We would not learn from the poem that she is the only Muse not standing--depicted on the ground both in the "Mantegna" and Lazarelli's manuscript-- nor why. In the
Practica Musica, she is standing--perhaps how Lazarellli would like to see her.
Well, I hope that is enough to show that while the poet is describing the various subjects of his poem, he has before him the corresponding E-series card, from which his illuminator also works, sometimes making changes to suit the poem but usually, if the alterations in what is already there are required, not doing so. Lazarelli's poem may have had an effect on the S-series, as its changes from the E-series do occasionally reflect the discrepancies (ie.g. Saturn's beard and the four animals on the Primo Causa), but it was the cards from the E-series that Lazarelli bought in Venice, prompted his poem, and from which his illuminator worked.