Spencer Alley: Cinquecento Paintings

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

Cinquecento Paintings

Palma il Vecchio
Adam and Eve
ca. 1515-20
oil on canvas
Herzog Anton Ulrich Museum, Braunschweig

Bacchiacca
Eve with Cain and Abel
ca. 1520-30
tempera and oil on panel
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Andrea del Sarto
Portrait of a Man (probably a Canon of Pisa Cathedral)
1528-30
oil on panel, transferred to canvas
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

follower of Francesco Primaticcio
Abduction of Helen
ca. 1533-35
oil on canvas
Bowes Museum, Barnard Castle, County Durham

Girolamo Romanino
The Flagellation
ca. 1540
distemper and oil on canvas
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Girolamo Figino
Virgin and Child with Saints Peter and Paul
ca. 1540-70
oil on panel
Harvard Art Museums

Giovanni Battista Moroni
Portrait of Gian Lodovico Madruzzo
ca. 1551-52
oil on canvas
Art Institute of Chicago

Luis de Morales
Man of Sorrows
ca. 1560
oil on panel
Minneapolis Institute of Art

"Brichot's coarse pleasantries, in the early days of his friendship with the Baron, had given place, as soon as it was a question, not of uttering commonplaces, but of understanding, to an awkward feeling which concealed a certain merriment. He reassured himself by recalling pages of Plato, lines of Virgil, because, being mentally as well as physically blind, he did not understand that in those days to fall in love with a young man was like, in our day (Socrates's jokes reveal this more clearly than Plato's theories), keeping a dancing girl before one marries and settles down. M. de Charlus himself would not have understood, he who confused his mania with friendship, which does not resemble it in the least, and the athletes of Praxiteles with obliging boxers. He refused to see that for the last nineteen hundred years ("a pious courtier under a pious prince would have been an atheist under an atheist prince," as La Bruyère reminds us) all conventional homosexuality – that of Plato's young friends as well as that of Virgil's shepherds – has disappeared, that what survives and increases is only the involuntary, the neurotic kind, which we conceal from other people and disguise to ourself. And M. de Charlus would have been wrong in not denying frankly the pagan genealogy. In exchange for a little plastic beauty, how vast the moral superiority! The shepherd in Theocritus who sighs for love of a boy, later on will have no reason to be less hard of heart, less dull of wit than the other shepherd whose flute sounds for Amaryllis. For the former is not suffering from a malady, he is conforming to the customs of his time. It is the homosexuality that survives in spite of obstacles, a thing of scorn and loathing, that is the only true form, the only form that can be found conjoined in a person with an enhancement of his moral qualities. We are appalled at the apparently close relation between these and our bodily attributes, when we think of the slight dislocation of a purely physical taste, the slight blemish in one of the senses, which explain why the world of poets and musicians, so firmly barred against the Duc de Guermantes, opens its portals to M. de Charlus. That the latter should shew taste in the furnishing of his home, which is that of an eclectic housewife, need not surprise us; but the narrow loophole that opens upon Beethoven and Veronese!"

– Marcel Proust, from La Prisonnière (1923), translated by C.K. Scott Moncrieff as The Captive (1929)

"Brichot's heavy jokes, in the early days of his friendship with the Baron, had been replaced, once it was a question of not repeating clichés but of understanding, with a painful feeling masked by gaiety. He reassured himself by repeating pages of Plato, lines of Virgil, because, intellectually as well as physically blind, he could not understand that in those days loving a boy (Socrates' jokes make it clearer than Plato's theories) was like keeping a dancer today, before one becomes engaged and settles down. M. de Charlus himself would not have understood this, confusing as he did his mania with friendship, which it does not at all resemble, and the athletes of Praxiteles with accommodating boxers. He refused to see that nineteen hundred years later ('a courtier who is pious under a pious ruler would have been an unbeliever under an unbelieving ruler,' said La Bruyère), all everyday homosexuality – that of Plato's young men or Virgil's shepherds – has disappeared, and all that survives and multiplies is the involuntary kind, the nervous disease, the kind that one hides from others and disguises from oneself. And M. de Charlus would have been wrong not to reject openly the pagan genealogy of his condition. By giving up a little physical beauty, what a gain in moral standing! The Theocritean shepherd who sighs for a boy will have no claim in later life to be less insensitive or more intelligent than the other shepherd whose flute sounds for Amaryllis. For the first one is not suffering from an illness, he is simply following prevailing fashion. It is the homosexuality that survives in spite of obstacles, condemned, covered in shame, that is the real homosexuality; only that kind can be accompanied in the same being by a refinement of the inner life. One trembles to think of the connection there can be between physical and moral qualities when one thinks of the small variation in purely physical taste, the slight defect in one sense, which bring it about that the world of poets and musicians, so closed to the Duc de Guermantes, should be partly open to M. de Charlus. That the latter should take an interest in the decoration of his rooms – which are as full of objects as a knick-knack loving housewife's – is hardly surprising; but that the same little chink should open on to Beethoven and Veronese!"

– Marcel Proust, from La Prisonnière (1923), translated by Carol Clark as The Prisoner (2002)