While the neighbouring cities had made approaches towards the new style, Florence, if we are to credit Vasari and his followers, was without a painter; but subsequent to the year 1250 some Greek painters were invited to Florence by the rulers of the city, for the express purpose of restoring the art of painting in Florence, where it was rather wholly lost than degenerated. To this assertion I have to oppose the learned dissertation of Doctor Lami, which I have just commended. Lami observes, that mention is made in the archives of the chapters of one Bartolommeo who painted in 1236, and that the picture of the Annunciation of our Lady, which is held in the highest veneration in the church of the Servi, was painted about that period. It is retouched in some parts of the drapery; it possesses, however, much originality, and for that age is respectably executed. When I prepared my first edition I had no knowledge of the work of Lami, which was not then published, and hence was unable to proceed further than to refute the opinion of those who ascribed this sacred figure to Cavallini, a pupil of Giotto. I reflected that the style of Cavallini appeared considerably more modern in his other works which I had examined at Assisi, and at Florence; yet, various artists whom I consulted, and among others Signor Pacini, who had copied the Annunciation, disputed with me this diversity of style. I further adduced the form of the characters written there in a book, Ecce Virgo concipiet, &c. which resemble those of the thirteenth century; nor have they that profusion of lines which distinguishes the German, commonly denominated the Gothic character, which Cavallini and other pupils of Giotto always employed. I rejoice that the opinion of Lami confirms my conjecture, and stamps its authenticity; and it seems to me highly probable that the Bartolommeo, whom he indicates, is the individual to whom the memorandums of the Servi ascribe the production of their Annunciation about the year 1250. The same religious fraternity preserve, among their ancient paintings, a Magdalen, which appears from the design and inscription, a work of the thirteenth century; and we might instance several coeval pictures that still exist in their chapter house, and in other parts of the city.[42]
Having inserted these notices of ancient painters, and some others, which will be found scattered throughout the work, I turn to Vasari, and to the accusations laid to his charge. He is defended by Monsignor Bottari in a note at the conclusion of the life of Margaritone, taken from Baldinucci. He affirms, from his own observation, "That though each city had some painters, they were all as contemptible and barbarous as Margaritone, who, if compared to Cimabue, is unworthy of the name of painter." The examples already cited do not permit me to assent to this proposition; even Bottari himself will scarcely allow me to do so, as he observes, in another note on the life of Cimabue, "That he was the first who abandoned the manner of the Greeks, or at least who avoided it more completely than any other artist." But if others, such as Guido, Bonaventura, and Giunta, had freed themselves from it before his time, why are they not recorded as the first, in point of time, by Vasari? Did not their example open the new path to Cimabue? Did they not afford a ray of light to reviving art? Were they not in painting what the two Guidos were in poetry, who, however much surpassed by Dante, are entitled to the first place in a history of our poets? Vasari would therefore have acted better had he followed the example of Pliny, who commences with the rude designers, Ardices of Corinth, and Telephanes of Sicyon; he then minutely narrates the invention of Cleophantes the Corinthian, who coloured his designs with burnt earth; next, that of Eumarus the Athenian, who first represented the distinction of age and sex. Then comes that of Cimon of Cleonæ, who first expressed the various attitudes of the head, and aimed at representing the truth, even in the joints of the fingers and the folds of the garments. Thus, the merits of each city, and every artist, appear in ancient history; and it seems to me just, that the same should be done, as far as possible, in modern history. These observations may, at present, suffice in regard to a subject that has been made a source of complaint and dispute among many writers.
Nevertheless it cannot be denied that there is no city to which painting is more indebted than to Florence, nor any name more proper to mark an epoch, whatever may be the opinion of Padre della Valle,[43] than that of Cimabue. The artists whom I have before mentioned had few followers; their schools, with the exception of that of Siena, languished, and were either gradually dispersed, or united themselves to that of Florence. This school in a short time eclipsed every other, and has continued to flourish in a proud succession of artists, uninterrupted even down to our own days. Let us then trace it from its commencement.
Giovanni Cimabue, descended from illustrious ancestors,[44] was both an architect and a painter. That he was the pupil of Giunta is conjectured in our times, only because the Greeks were less skilful than the Italians. It ought to be a previous question, whether the supposed scholar and master ever resided in the same place, which it would seem, after the observations before adduced, can scarcely be admitted.[45] It appears from history, that he learnt the art from some Greeks who were invited to Florence, and painted in S. Maria Novella, according to Vasari. It is an error to assert that they painted in the chapel of the Gondi, which was built a century after, together with the church; it was certainly in another chapel, under the church, where those Greek paintings were covered with plaister, and their place supplied by others, the work of a painter of the thirteenth century.[46]
Not long since a part of the new plaister fell down, and some of the very rude figures of those Greek painters became again visible. It is probable that Cimabue imitated them in early life, and perhaps at that time painted the S. Francesco and the little legends which surround it in the church of S. Croce. But, if I mistake not, it is doubtful who painted this picture; at least it neither has the manner nor the colouring of the works of Cimabue, even when young. I may refer to the S. Cecilia, with the implements of her martyrdom, in the church dedicated to that Saint, and which was afterwards removed to that of San Stefano, a picture greatly superior to that of S. Francesco.
However this may be, like other Italians of his age, Giovanni got the better of his Greek education, which seems to have consisted in one artist copying another without ever adding any thing to the practice of his master. He consulted nature, he corrected in part the rectilinear forms of his design, he gave expression to the heads, he folded the drapery, and he grouped the figures with much greater art than the Greeks. His talent did not consist in the graceful. His Madonnas have no beauty, his angels in the same piece have all the same forms. Wild as the age in which he lived, he succeeded admirably in heads full of character, especially in those of old men, impressing an indescribable degree of bold sublimity, which the moderns have