Thursday, November 14, 2024

Italia '24 – Santo Spirito e Stanza Segreta


We are in Firenze (Florence, pop 367,150 in 2022). After a delay of eleven years, the Basilica di Santo Spirito (Filippo Brunelleschi, 15th century) is finally open this morning (it is not open on Wednesdays), and we are going in. But unfortunately, we are told we cannot take pictures inside (images from Wikimedia below).

The exterior of the Basilica is smooth, cream-colored stucco, and not at all what Brunelleschi intended. Thus, the most interesting visible details are on the campanile, with its classical columns and brackets, rough-cut blockwork, and 'fire-breathing' dove representing the Holy Spirit.

We can only imagine the church's stonework with the exposed exedrae of the chapels, as Brunelleschi had stipulated, or a poly-chrome marble facade, like Santa Croce or Santa Maria Novella (both, 13th-14th centuries).

 

Brunelleschi's interior worship space is very much like that at his Basilica di San Lorenzo (see below): a tall center nave with thin arched windows at the clerestory, a flat timber ceiling, and two side aisles separated by Corinthian arcades with fragmented cornices.

The proportions and materials are also similar, with the architectural elements rendered in pietra serena. The differences are in the details; the design in Santo Spirito seems bolder, with thicker elements, and more space between the arches and cornices. This provides the familiar contrast of strength and lightness we saw last year at Il Redentore in Venezia.

Unfortunately, the flow of space at the crossing is blocked by the Baroque baldacchino (Caccini and Silvani, 1599-1608). In fact, a walk around the open floor area around the chancel introducing the idea that the plan of this church is a unique hybrid between a centralized plan and a Latin-cross basilica. The transepts, the rear ambulatory, and the first two bays of the main nave are radially symmetric, resulting in a five-square Greek-cross, with half-square (double-square) aisle spaces, with a continuous perimeter of same-sized, semi-circular chapels.

This also results in a central column and four chapels at the ends of each arm, rather than a central bay. This breaks traditional hierarchy and prevents the provision of any 'central' space or chapel – further reinforcing a kind of 'democratic equality'.

We stop to consider other churches from, say the late fourteenth century in Italy – compare the plan of the Duomo di Milano, for example – and the radical change Brunelleschi's design offers. These innovations and design philosophies can be found in the evolution of later designs, of the Basilica di San Pietro as another example.


 

 

 

The resulting chapels are not overly decorated, though there are several standouts. Each semi-circular alcove includes a tall arched windows for light and is marked with a family or communal crest. The only stained glass is in the oculus of the front facade: Vetrata della Pentecoste (decent of the Holy Spirit, Pietro Perugino, 15th century).

Perphaps the most 'heroic' piece, in the Cappella del Riccio-Baldi and set within a beautiful sculptural framework, is a copy of Michelangelo's Pietà Vaticana (Nanni di Baccio Bigio, 1545).

Other important works include, in the Cappella Velluti, the Madonna del Soccorso (Domenico di Zanobi, 1475-1485), and in the Cappella Nerli, the Pala de' Nerli (Filippino Lippi, 1485-88) – both in the eastern transept.

 

 

The only chapel that breaks the visual consistency of the design is on the western side of the nave, third bay from the crossing (so the 'central plan' is unaffected). Here, the pipes for the organ are mounted above a vaulted entryway to the Sagrestia (Giuliano da Sangallo, late 15th century). This is an octagonal domed room with classical elements carved in the same pietra serena as the church.

A large Crocifisso (1492) hangs from the dome, attributed to a young Michelangelo and that once hung at the church crossing. Legend says that the young master gave the sculptural piece in exchange for permission to study the anatomy of the corpses in the convent's hospital. There is an 'S-line' to the turned hips and the musculature of the abdomen reminiscent of the contrapposto that Michelangelo will employ in his David. The anatomical accuracy is bare for all to see, and rather than a tortured look, there is a expression of peaceful solemnity on His face.

We think how open the space at the altar might feel, and how impactful this simple suspended figure would be if returned to the crossing in place of the baldacchino.

  

 


From the Sagrestia we step down to Il chiostro dei Morti which is covered in memorials and funerary markers, but where photography is permitted. In the lunettes of the vaults, a running sequence of frescoes, Le Storie della vita di Santi Ggostiniani (various artists, 17th century), in varying states of conservation, displays scenes of death as well as recovery:
Libera S. Giovanni com le proprie mani
Gran numero di gente dalla peste
[Frees St. John with his own hands
A large number of people from the plague]

Ferita mortale abbandonata de medici e guarite
Dal santo col segno della Croce
[A mortal wound abandoned by doctors and healed
By the saint with the sign of the Cross]
Framed by frescoes of Fede (faith) and Speranzahe (hope), the Sala Capitulare has several visitors, so we move on, but will return. At the end of the north gallery is a workroom behind a curtain, always good to see this work whether for new work or for restoration.

Turning into the western gallery, we find Il Refettorio Nuovo (1594), with the Tre Cene: Nozze di Cana, Ultima Cena, e Cena in Emmaus (three dinners, Bernardino Poccetti, 1597), and in the end lunettes, Il Battesimo di sant'Agostino and Il Battesimo di san Dionigi l'Aeropagita.

 

 

 


Strange that Il chiostro dei Morti is full of life, even in mid-November. From the south gallery, we can enter the courtyard and enjoy views of the campanile above the small fountain head (heavily protected from pigeons) and a pool filled with lily pads. Some bright red flowers are still in bloom.

The frescoes continue:
Dopo longa oratione merita il Gran Padre
Sto. Agostino vedere in spirito S. Geronimo
[After a long prayer the Great Father deserves
St. Augustine to see in spirit St. Jerome]

San Tomaso da villanova libera
con i suoi digiuni un'indemoniata
[St. Thomas of Villanova frees
with his fasts a possessed woman]
 

 

 

 

 

Finally, we have the Sala Capitulare to ourselves for a while. Unfortunately, the altar is in a terrible repair. Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the Sala is amber stone floor, which is covered in ghoulish seventeenth century tomb stones.

We leave Santo Spirito with great satisfaction – Brunelleschi's stunning masterpiece off the bucket list.

 

 

 

We head back over the Arno for lunch and end up at the Mercato Centrale. While the lower level continues to sell fresh produce and meat, the upper level is an active food court, much like the TimeOut Market in Lisboa.

The Mercato is surrounded by stalls selling cheap clothing and leather goods. The stalls spill towards the Piazza di San Lorenzo, where we have tickets to see something truly special.

Another anticipated highlight of this trip to Italy is our plan to see the Stanza Segreta di Michelangelo. This is under the scarsella, a storage room under the Sagrestia Nuova (Michelangelo, 1520-33) in the San Lorenzo complex (15th century). The story goes that Michelangelo hid here following the 'Assedio di Firenze' (1529-30) for some weeks. And in his notebooks Michelangelo describes a cell in which he hid, and explained: "to forget my fears, I fill the walls with drawings."
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tours are strictly timed (15 minutes) and restricted to groups of four. We wait for our guide in the Cripta below the Cappella Medicee (Capella de PrincipiMatteo Nigetti, 17th century).

The guide takes us up to the opulent Cappella and down a connecting corridor to Michelangelo's Sagrestia. To the left (west) side of the altar, we enter a small room, which is empty except for a chair and table, and other items used by the museum guides and guards. Our guide asks us to leave our backpacks here, and opens a wooden door in the floor, exposing a set of stone stairs.

We are in a long, low vaulted space at the northern-most edge of the complex (under the altar), with two shuttered windows facing out to the Piazza di San Lorenzo. We can hear the traffic and the tourists outside, as there is only a punched metal grille separating the room from the busy sidewalk. Around us, large drawings envelop the plaster walls.

At the bottom of the stairs is a life-size male nude, roughly sketched, with emphasis on the hips and shoulders. The strokes are quick, curly, and confident, though the turned faces are like a cartoons. The other lines indicate additional positions for the arms. It looks like the kind of drawing done to explain an idea to someone: how to pose a certain figure or how the muscles might move.

Inspecting first the north wall, we find a series of studies of arms and legs. Some definitely look familiar: David's arm? his foot? and are those his legs? A more developed drawing is identified as the Laocoön, which Michelangelo helped excavate. But nearby are extremely crude drawings as well, perhaps by a different artist.

On the ceiling we see the head of a horse. And on the cheeks of the eastern window are more arms, legs, bodies, clothing, and another quick face. So easy to imagine the master sitting on this sill, explaining ideas if not to others, as least to himself.

 

 

 


 

 

The eastern end wall contains quite a lot of work. To the left are two male figures apparently wrestling or struggling. The cross-hatching on these figures is crisp.

A female figure stands in the center (possibly a sketch of Leda from a lost painting?); the drawing shows signs of being reworked. Next to the figure is a touching study of her face. The leg of another figure is to the right with amazingly fresh-looking chiaroscuro shading. Some have proposed that these are studies for the Cappella Sistina.

Scanning back long the southern wall, we first find a swirl of loose lines suggesting more figures in motion; some of the lines have a reddish hue, perhaps made with crayon rather than charcoal. Next to this are the legs of someone seated, wearing armor, quite possibly the feet of Giuliano de' Medici in the Sagrestia above.

Other sketches could easily be others studies for known works, such as the female reaching with her arm (EvaCappella Sistina), the tumbling male figure (Fetonte), and the old seated man (San Matteo e l'angelo).


 

 

 

 

 

Our time in the Stanza Segreta is brief but inspiring. Our time in the company of Michelangelo, however, is not over, as our guide leaves us in the Sagrestia Nuova. Here we stare into the coffered dome and relish the rule-breaking details that he employed to great effect, such as the energy-release of the broken pediments. All this held in the precise geometry of the pietra serena.

As we emerge from the room next to the altar, the figure of Giuliano de' Medici is to our left above the allegorical figures of Notte and Giorno (1526-31). We study the now-familiar feet. On the opposite wall is Giuliano's nephew, Lorenzo de' Medici above Crepuscolo and Aurora (1524-31).

Uncle and nephew are both looking towards the south wall and the statue of the Madonna col Bambino (1521-34); the squirming Baby turning to feed, contrasts with the calm countenance of the Mother.

 

 

 

We pass once more through the connecting corridor, where there are two rough sculptures of battle armor left behind by Michelangelo when he left Firenze in 1534, much as the Madonna was left unfinished. The label says that these were intended for the empty niches in the Sagrestia. And, of course, the Cappella Sistina lay in his future.

Our guide leaves us in the Cappella Medicee – the 'Princes' Chapel'. This is the larger, Baroque chapel directly behind the church's altar. After our time is Michelangelo's Sagrestia Nuova this one is a little 'too much': the scale, the polychrome, the ornament. Maybe, there's too many Princes; the space lacks clarity.

We are instructed to leave through the Cripta, and re-renter the church if we want to see the Sagrestia Vecchia. As we pass, we acknowledge the grubby, grilled windows on the Piazza di San Lorenzo which hold new significance.

 

 

 

We recover from Medicee overload in the Renaissance tranquility of the Basilica di San Lorenzo (Brunelleschi, 1419-70). At first blush, the church is like Santo Spirito; as mentioned before, the aisle vaults, the tall clerestory and flat roof, and those gorgeous colonnades. The scale is just about equal as well, and the proportions are the same. San Lorenzo may be touch smaller, the pietra serena may be a shade darker, and the chapels add light with an oculus in the tympanum. The church is in much better shape than Santo Spirito, perhaps the legacy of 'Medici money'.

The altar is not in the crossing, it's in the apse; there's no hint of a' cetralized plan'. And fortunately, photography is allowed now (was not in 2013).

The art collection is also on another level (that Medici money). The twin pulpiti are by Donatello, thought to be his last works (after 1460). Behind the pulpit on the north side is a floor-to-ceiling image of the Martirio di San Lorenzo by Bronzino (1565-69). 

In the north trasept, aside the Cappella Martelli, is the fantastic L'Annunciazione by Fra' Filippo Lippi (1440). In fact, the Sarcofago della famiglia Martelli is also by Donatello (1455). And the family must have appreciated the work; a cenotaph memorializing Donatello is in the side wall (Guidotti and Romanelli, 1896).


 

 

 

 

  

The Sagrestia Vecchia (Brunelleschi, 1419-28) has the same footprint as the Sagrestia Nuova, and predates it by one hundred years. The big formal difference is that the main crypt is in the middle of the room as opposed to the sides. The space is covered with a twelve-segmented dome.

The altar, too, has a dome, but instead of the tondi in the pendentives, there are blue scallop shells, and on the surface an image of astrological constellations.

The tondi and lunettoni are all by Donatello. The tondi in the pendentives tell Le Storie di San Giovanni Evangelista (1428-1432), and those over the arches are the Tondi degli Evangelisti (1435). The bronze doors are by Donatello, the Porta dei Martiri and the Porta degli Apostoli (1440-43), even the relief panels in the arches above the doors, Santi Stefano e Lorenzo on the left (east) and Santi Cosma e Damiano on the right (west) – the patrons and protectors of the Medici.

It does seem Michelangelo accepts Brunelleschi's challenge and tries to do him one better. While Brunelleschi reintroduces classical forms and geometry, the Sagrestia Vecchia primarily works from one viewpoint. Michelangelo adds layers of dynamic forms, improvising on those classical standards. And his sculptures don't just decorate and signify above our eye-level, they live in and activate the space, move our focus, and add meaning to the Sagrestia Nuova. The artists are in conversation – the art and architecture are the dialog.


 


 

 

We exit the Basilica through the chiostri and notice a stairway below the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana (where there is restoration work ongoing). This leads to another cripta and the small Museu del Tesoro – another space we had not seen in our previous visit. Several images with San Lorenzo's 'iron grille' remind us of where we are.

One tomb altar worth mentioning is in one far corner, set quite high, and arranges an image of the Resurrection and an image of the Annunciation above, on the ceiling. And a group of crayon sketches by Jacopo da Pontormo for some of his last frescoes, including La Flagellazione (c1550) – sketches on old boards found inside Donatello's pulpiti. Just interesting to see another artist, one of Michelangelo's contemporaries, with another secret stash.

 

 

 

 

After a completely fulfilling day of art and architecture, we end with another excellent dinner in the Oltrarno and another breath-taking moonrise.

 

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