Plutarch's head is out there somewhere
Art Neuendorffer
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simone_Boccanegra
Simone Boccanegra, doge (died 1363), whose name is familiar from
Giuseppe Verdi's opera Simon Boccanegra, was the first of the doges of
Genoa. Elected in September 24, 1336, as doge for life, the candidate
of the "popular" Ghibelline faction, Boccanegra was opposed by the
aristocratic Guelf faction of the old mercantile patriciate, which
his first actions excluded from public life. With the old patriciate
excluded from control, a new class of mercantile houses began their
rise from this revolutionary turn of events:
Adorno, Guarco, Fregoso, Montaldo [1].
During his dogate, Genoese control was extended the length of both
Rivieras, with the exception of the Grimaldi holdings in Monaco and
Ventimiglia, and Genoese galleys went to the aid of Alfonso XI of
Castile in his struggles against the Saracens.
The constant conspiracies and attempts against his life from the
outset? the first conspirator's head rolled December 20? led to
the assignment of a bodyguard of 103 mounted guards, which, for
Boccanegra's security were drawn from Pisa, the inveterate enemy
of Genoa,, where, however, Simon's brother Niccolò was 'captain
of the people", their mother having been a Pisan aristocrat.
Simon Boccanegra was driven to lay down his regalia at a public meeting
he had called, December 23, 1344. In his absence, Giovanni Valente took
the chief magistrate's position, until Boccanegra returned to resume
power in 1356. He was fatally poisoned in 1363.
Two letters written by Petrarch to Simon Boccanegra, and to the
doge of Venice, in which the humanist appealed to them to end
their fratricidal wars and find a common aim,
were among Verdi's inspirations for his opera.
Simon Boccanegra's funeral sculpture, sculpted as if lying in state with
extraordinary realism in his features, from his tomb in the church of
San Francesco in Castelletto, is now in the museum of Sant'Agostino.
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http://collections.ic.gc.ca/bulletin/num3a/brink1.html
Simone Martini's St Catherine of Alexandria:
An Orvietan Altarpiece and the
Mystical Theology of St Bonaventure by Joel Brink
http://collections.ic.gc.ca/bulletin/num3a/brink1_image1.html
Per mirar Policleto a prova fiso,
con gli altri ch'ebber fama di quell'arte,
mill'anni, non vedrian la minor parte
cella beltà che m'àve il cor conquiso;
ma certo il mio Simon fu in paradiso,
onde questa gentil Donna si parte;
ivi la vide e la ritrasse in carte,
per far fede qua giù del suo bel viso.
L'opra fu ben di quelle che nel cielo
si ponno imaginar, non qui tra noi,
ove le membra fanno a l'alma velo... (1)
When Petrarch wrote these lines about Simone Martini's portrait of
Laura, the humanist poet and moral philosopher was in effect promoting
the name of the painter and celebrating for future generations of
literati the intrinsic qualities of his creations. Equally important are
Petrarch's personal praises of the painter inscribed in the margin of
his Pliny, or in the illuminated frontispiece that Simone prepared for
the poet's copy of Servius's Commentary on Virgil on the eve of the
poet's Roman Coronation. In his copy of Pliny, Petrarch compares his
painter-friend favorably to Apelles who, according to Pliny, could speak
on equal terms with Alexander the Great. (Hec fuit et Symoni nostro
Senensi uper iocundissima). And in the illumination Petrarch eulogizes
Virgil and Simone in a rhymed couplet identifying them as individual
creative Italian artists spanning the ancient Roman and contemporary
worlds: Mantua Virgilium Qui Talia Carmina Finxit/Sena Tulit Symonem
Digito Qui Talia Pinxit). (2) For Petrarch, the fame of the Sienese
artist was based on the enraptured beauty of his creations - which the
humanist poet could perceive and express in verse so well; but as fate
would have it, later biographers, especially the influential Vasari,
attributed Simone's fame to what Petrarch had written rather than to
what the painter had created. Vasari observes that Petrarch 's sonnets
"have given more fame to the poor life of Maestro Simone than all his
own works have ever done or ever will, seeing that they must at some
time perish...." (3)
The portrait of Madonna Laura unfortunately has perished, and we can be
thankful for Petrarch's inspired lines which keep its memory alive. But
the fame of Simone of Siena still lives on through his many preserved
masterpieces, some of which were unknown to Vasari, and others which
have come to light only recently. As the seventh centenary of Simone's
birth rapidly approaches, in c. 1984, a number of the painter's
outstanding works are attracting renewed scholarly interest. One such
painting, and indeed one of the truly exquisite examples of Simone's
artistic genius, is found today in the National Gallery of Canada (fig.
1). The crowned martyr, probably St Catherine of Alexandria, is also
worthy of poetic praise; for, its feminine grace and decorative charm
undoubtedly preserve in material form the same sublime qualities that
originally inspired Petrarch's moving sonnets on the portrait of Laura.
The painting is one of the most cherished treasures in the Ottawa
European Collection, and one of only a few certain works by the great
Sienese master in North America.
While known for some time, (4) the painting unfortunately has not
attracted the detailed scholarly attention it deserves, and
consequently, important physical, iconographic and historical evidence
relating to its original form, context, and meaning has not come
properly to light. The St Catherine of Alexandria, and the panels to
which it was initially attached, formed an innovative painting that
reflected the intellectual and spiritual concerns of its patrons.
Similar to Simone's other major works of art, the composite painting
provides an illuminating document of the history of ideas during the
Italian High Middle Ages.
The National Gallery acquired the painting in 1956 from the
Liechtenstein collection in Vienna. Prior to this time, in the late
nineteenth century, the work had been with the dealer Stefano Bardini in
Florence where it appears to have been restored to its present state. An
old photograph from the Collection of Federico Zeri (fig. 2) illustrates
the physical condition of the painting when it belonged to Bardini, and
helps to establish those parts of the gilded and painted surface renewed
at that time. The halo of the saint, for instance, was severely damaged
and much of the gold leaf was replaced, including the punch-motifs which
were modelled successfully on the extant originals. Besides some minor
restoration to the left-hand arch cusp and to the decorative edge of the
outer garment, the rest of the gold-work - including the background, the
jewel-studded crown, the cross-in-circle broach, and the right-side arch
cusp with its distinctive six-pointed star - are in perfect condition.
The pre-restoration photograph (fig. 2) also illustrates that the mantle
which falls over the right arm of the saint has been almost completely
repainted, and that the fingers of the right hand, the martyr's palm,
and portions of the inner garment have been partially renewed. In
contrast, the left hand of the figure is original and the magnificent
head and neck of St Catherine are untouched by later restoration.
Considering the ill effects of cleaning and restoration, which have
ruined other similar panels of the Trecento, the painting in the
National Gallery of Canada survives in excellent condition and remains
one of the representative works of the Master Simone Martini.
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FRANCESCO PETRARCA, 1304-1374
French translation of the Triumphi by Simon Bourgouyn
On paper France, early 16th century MS 875, f. 1r
The fame of Petrarch in France is in large measure centered on the
Triumphi, in particular through visual representations in illuminated
manuscripts, and in translations into French of the poetry. Although
others had made prose translations a few years earlier, Simon Bourgouyn,
member of the court circles of Louis XII, was probably the first to
translate the Triumphi into verse. He made his translation in the early
17th century. As had been the case with his translation of Ovid?s
Metamorphoses, Bourgouyn added moralizing commentary to the poetry,
to adapt work to the taste of the highest levels of French nobility.
http://www.library.yale.edu/beinecke/brbleduc/petrarch/13.html
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BARISTA heartstarters for the hungry mind
http://dox.media2.org/barista/archives/001245.html
October 17, 2004 petrarch's skull
<<These bones and coffin belong to Petrarch, born exactly seven hundred
years ago to the delight of tourist operators in his adopted hometown of
Padua. He is buried in a huge tomb in the valley where he died in 1374.
He was an accomplished Latin scholar who fought to restore classical
forms of the language from the dead hands of scholars. At the same time,
he also championed and wrote in the vernacular Italian. As the cliches
go, he was "The Father of Humanism" and one of the inventors of the sonnet.
Now his body has sent researchers scurrying for evidence of a crime
committed 130 years ago, which threatens to ruin the reputation of an
Italian scholar so descended from Petrarch's humanist tradition he
inspired Charles Darwin. In this I have a genuine scoop, created through
the magic of Google and its twisted translations.
Petrarch wrote a letter to posterity:
"Greeting.---It is possible that some word of me may have come to you,
though even this is doubtful, since an insignificant and obscure name
will scarcely penetrate far in either time or space. If, however, you
should have heard of me, you may desire to know what manner of man I
was, or what was the outcome of my labours, especially those of which
some description or, at any rate, the bare titles may have reached you."
Plutarch is being disingenuous, since he was a literary hero in his own
lifetime, headed for an expensive tomb. The letter contains this
salutary paragraph which makes him sound like a fourteen century blogger:
"My style, as many claimed, was clear and forcible; but to me it seemed
weak and obscure. In ordinary conversation with friends, or with those
about me, I never gave any thought to my language, and I have always
wondered that Augustus Caesar should have taken such pains in this
respect. When, however, the subject itself, or the place or listener,
seemed to demand it, I gave some attention to style, with what success I
cannot pretend to say; let them judge in whose presence I spoke. If only
I have lived well, it matters little to me how I talked. Mere elegance
of language can produce at best but an empty renown..."
The empty renown gathered around his rose-coloured tomb, placed as he
wanted next to the church at Arqua. Now the local Bishopric has decided
to exhume him, pop the remains into a bulletproof, water resistant
Goretex (TM) bag, and return him to the tomb, fortified for such
centuries as the aforementioned renown continues.
You may detect a certain cynicism in my tone. The Bish asked a forensic
pathologist to do an inspect - a man with the wonderful name of "Dr.
Vito Terribile Wiel Marin". With his information, they expected to
reconstruct Petrarch's face to build a modern portrait. (Painting being
a bit pre-renaissance at the time).
Dr Terribile was already trusted because he had investigated the strange
case of St Luke, a Syrian supposed to have written the third Gospel. It
turns out the two stories have eery echoes of each other.
The body was in a mausoleum in Padua, but only for the last thousand
years, inside an intriguingly sealed lead casket. Hmmm... what could be
in here, after 800 years of potential funny business?
Interest was sparked by a letter from the Metropolitan of Thebes in
1992, requesting a bone to be placed in Luke's original tomb. This was
important because it meant that the stories from the Orthodox tradition,
covering his actual stamping ground, also suggested his body was in
Padua. This was a chance to find out for sure.
"In 1998 when the experts of the diocese and the friars of Santa
Giustina removed the 400-year-old seals from the large lead casket,
which measured 76 by 16 inches, 20 inches deep, and weighed 280 pounds?,
they found the bones of a complete skeleton (with the exception of the
skull), protected by a shroud of transparent white cloth, which it is
thought was used for the last exhibition of the relic to the faithful in
1562. The bones attributed to the saint were mixed with some ribs and
vertebrae of small rodents, a few shells, vegetable residue (perhaps the
remains of flowers dropped by the faithful), a terra cotta bowl, and
some small jars containing parchments and coins. On the bottom of the
casket were more coins, 34 in all, the oldest of which dates to A.D.
299. There were also a slab and a plaque witnessing to reconnaissances
of the relics made in 1463 and 1562; these reiterate the attribution of
the remains to the author of the third Gospel. Apart from the right ulna
and left astragalus (a small bone in the foot), the headless skeleton is
complete and perfectly preserved."
Where had the body been in its putative progress to Padua? It started in
a tomb at Thebes, went to Constantinople in the Fourth Century, and
somehow arrived in Padua by 1177. It turns out the box in Padua fits the
original tomb to the millimetre, which is a good start in the provenance
stakes.
"The research has shown that the bones belonged to a Syrian. This
conclusion was reached by the geneticist Guido Barbujani after an
analysis of the DNA. The skeleton belongs to a man who died in old age,
presumably between 70 and 85 (which is perfectly in line with the
information in the two Prologues), about 5 feet 4 inches tall, and of a
stocky build. Dr. Terribile Wiel Marin has found in the bones a serious
form of osteoporosis, arthrosis of the spine, and considerable wearing
down of the teeth. The curvature of the ribs indicates the presence of
pulmonary emphysema. Among the most interesting results of the research
is the carbon-14 dating, carried out in two different laboratories, in
Tucson, Arizona, and Oxford, England. Both tests show that the skeleton
belongs to someone who died between 130 and 400 A.D. This coincides with
the tradition, which places the death of the Evangelist in the early
decades of the second century."
It remains possible that the body was substituted in Constantinople,
since the genetic profile there is the same as the Syrians. But the
dimensional evidence is pretty suggestive.
So where is the bonce? In fact there is no mystery. Holy Roman Emperor
Charles the Fourth took it from Padua to Prague in 1354, narrowly
missing a face to face meeting with Petrarch. (X-rays show that Charles
had a big face and a badly receding chin so he would have looked a right
aristocratic goose).
In 1998 the skull was moved briefly back to Padua and fitted to the
spine. The linkage is almost as individual as fingerprints, so the fact
that it slotted into place means that this is definitely the right
skull. They must have been very tempted to keep it.
A saintly rib has now been sent from Padua to Thebes and ceremonially
interred.
Terrribile Wiel Marin must have been a bit trepidaceous when a crane
took the two tonne lid off Petrarch's coffin last year. In 1630 some
drunken friars had broken into a corner of the tomb and took an arm for
sale, so the skeleton was not completely intact. The scientists
proceeded very cautiously when they saw that the fragile bones had
fallen through the base of the coffin and lay near jars containing
reports of previous incursions.
In 1873, the tomb had been opened by an investigator, Professor Giovanni
Canestrini, also at Padua University.
"He claimed Petrarch's skull disintegrated on contact with the air,"
said Prof Terribile Wiel Marin. "Since none of us has ever come across
an instance of this happening, we can only conclude he dropped it."
Certainly the skull was no more than a bunch of fragments, which were
assembled by the wonders of modern scientific anatomy. Unfortunately,
the skull was too small, and female. So, either Canestrini had dropped a
skull already substituted by unknown thieves, or the bugger stole it
himself, busted a skull and laid the fragments decoratively around the
interior of the tomb. Makes a ghastly kind of sense.
Petrarch describes himself like this:
"In my prime I was blessed with a quick and active body, although not
exceptionally strong; and while I do not lay claim to remarkable
personal beauty, I was comely enough in my best days..
Although I had previously enjoyed perfect health, old age brought with
it the usual array of discomforts."
According to the skeleton, "The legs showed scarring from horse riding
injuries and bone infections the poet was known to have suffered... "All
exams suggest that he walked badly, that he didn't listen to doctors'
orders to watch his diet," Terribile Wiel Marin said."
Petrarch confessed "the pleasure of dining with one's friends is so
great that nothing has ever given me more delight than their unexpected
arrival, nor have I ever willingly sat down to table without a companion."
At least the bones suggest someone tall and heavy, which is consistent
with the frescoes. Whether they fit his own description as "possessed of
a clear complexion between light and dark, lively eyes" is for the eye
of the viewer to detect.
In the last few days, Terribile has revealed that the team sent a
fragment of skull to the US to be carbon dated, just to make sure. The
results suggest the woman died between 1134 and 1280, so she was at
least a hundred years older than Petrarch. The thief had access to a
collection of skulls.
The noose tightens on the wretched Professor Giovanni Canestrini.
But it turns out he was no mere academic nonentity, and the twist here
is provided by Saint Google and its mechanical interpreting disciple.
Born in 1835, he was Professor at Padua from 1868 to his death in 1900.
A formidable worker, he set up the laboratories in bacteriology and
anthropology, wrote the first Italian guide to that new science, and
co-wrote the first study of Italian spiders.
The "anthropology" gave him the skulls, and a good knowledge of anatomy.
If he found a substituted skull, he would notice the different colour
and probably the eye sockets that suggest it was female. I doubt whether
he dropped too many specimens, either.
He was also a titan of nineteenth century Italian science. A naturalist,
he published on the evolution of the human tailbone, and his
speculations were so acute he was cited with admiration by Charles
Darwin. He translated The Origin of Species into Italian, led the
Darwinian charge, and resisted the Church. They called him "Professor
Monkey". A man after Petrarch's own heart.
So I presume someone is now searching very carefully through the
Canestrini's effects - his lab material, gifts, bank records, home
ornaments and will. But the skull could be in any collection,
particularly if it was assembled for phrenological reasons, to compare
the shape or size of Plutarch's braincase.
Here the coincidence of Terribile's work on St Luke could be vital. I
imagined boxes of skulls brought to the poet's spine to see if they
fitted exactly, but then I realised there is a simpler way.
They just have to distribute replicas of the top of his spine, so
researchers around the world can see if it fits a head in their
collection. Rather like the Prince with Cinderella's slipper.
After all, Plutarch's head is out there somewhere.>>
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Art Neuendorffer