As
both a
product and part
of culture, art acts as mirror to the society
that created it. When
culture changes, generally so
does art. As
the Byzantine Empire began
to crumble in the late-14th
to early
15th
centuries, Italy
became the home of classic
Greek and Roman writings and
the scholars that broke
translational traditions that made the works difficult to
understand.1
Those works reignited a
spark of learning that was captured by the artists'
hands, a reflection frozen in time. In this paper I will argue that
Renaissance artists used the humanist ideals of their day to
radically depart the Medieval
traditions of the art world.
I will do this by first showing why it is necessary to limit the
meaning the of
now-fattened “humanism” term down to something closer to what was
understood in the Renaissance. Then I will show that the narrowed
definition is clearly visible in the art itself.
The
term “humanism” has gained various meanings over the years
including many from different philosophic, ethical, political,
secular, and religious schools of thought.2
It is close to becoming an umbrella term that can contain notions
that confuse the nature of the topic being discussed. By that I mean
that what can be properly called “humanistic” might be
human-centric, the study of the modern concepts of the humanities, or
more simply classicism (the study of the art of ancient Greece and
Rome).3
Lest ideas from modernity be improperly conveyed into topics to which
they have no business being associated, before beginning a discussion
about humanism in the art of antiquity and the Renaissance, it is
necessary to separated the exact meaning intended by the use of
“humanism” in this context.
If
the artist was unable to gain an understanding of the inner workings
of the body, then the lack of knowledge would be reflected in the art
world. If that is the case, then it would be reasonable to claim
that there was a loss of general observational knowledge about human
anatomy, much like the loss of other traditions in the Greek and
Roman writings. When the field of anatomy was enlivened, that too
would be reflected by the artist. It seems an easy argument to make
when comparing depictions of the human form in Medieval art to those
found in Renaissance art.4
However, that conclusion would be a mistake, and one that relies on
a non-classicist concept of humanism, specifically the humanities.
Under
the modern concept of the “Humanities”, an education will be
broad and cover a number of subjects that use “analytic and
critical methods of inquiry derived from an appreciation of human
values”.5
If the Medieval or Renaissance artist was chiefly using direct
observations of the human body for want of Classical medical
knowledge, then a loss of anatomical accuracy could be blamed on
prohibitions about dissections, or a lack of access to the medical
arts. The latter option must be discounted as during the Renaissance
public dissections became “expensive social functions” that
required special papal indulgence, and university decrees.6
However, they also gained a theatrical aspect including band music,
the eventual building of “anatomic theaters”, and a kind of
regular trade in bodies suitable for dissection.7
The
former option, prohibitions on dissections, while conflicting with
documented social functions, also lacks general Historical evidence.
The closest “sign of a general (or even common) prohibition
concerning the opened corpse” is the 1300 bull of Boniface VIII
that
only prohibited “boiling the flesh off the bones in order to allow
them to be more easily transported for distant burial.”8
Beyond that, Italian
records of dissections date back to at least the
1280s, and postmortem inspection of organs was, in some cases, part
of the Church's investigations of candidates for sainthood.9
The insides of a body were directly observed by the Church in the
Medieval period, and were publicly displayed by anatomists in the
Renaissance. Even before
the fall of Constantinople,
it was likely that artists
could view anatomy on
at least
an irregular basis. By
the late 1400s Leonardo da Vinci was “working with cadavers
obtained from hospitals in Florence, Rome, and apparently Milan.”10
With
over 750 detailed
sketches of a wide variety
of anatomical subjects,
Leonardo “taught
painters and sculptors that a scientific knowledge of the artistic
anatomy – something quite different from the Greek sculptor's
instinctive knowledge of the nude figure in action and repose – can
be gained only at the dissection table.”11
Not only was his
new artistic approach to the recording of his observations quite
different than other artists, but
it was also
unheard of among the
anatomists. When the
early Renaissance
medical experts recorded their observations, they did so in the style
of “purely traditional, servile copies from manuscript sketches of
the past, with some little superadded touches here and there.”12
With
this, it might seem that I have contradicted myself, that the
artist's
hands had captured the loss of knowledge,
and Leonardo captured the
reemergence of the field: I
have not. Because the
artist's potential access
to the
body predates the Renaissance, and
there were no effective
prohibitions on opening a corpse, direct
observation was possible. Even
the anatomists
followed a tradition of copying manuscripts instead
of increasing the accuracy of their drawing according
to what they saw.
While there was a general
lack of accurately
recorded knowledge, there
was no general loss
of knowledge. So,
the knowledge
could have been available to the Medieval artist, and
the connection between what is shown in the art and what the artist
could have known is suspect.
We
have to eliminate the
modern “humanities” element
from
of the definition of “humanism”.13
It is not likely that the
influx of Byzantine-preserved
ancient thinking came
with special anatomical information. Instead, we have artists like
Leonardo inventing what would become the cross-discipline thinking
modern humanities. For
the remainder of this paper, I will abandon the use of the muddled
“humanism” and all of its modern trappings, in favor of
“classicism” in the Renaissance era.14
In
order to demonstrate classicism in Renaissance art, consider the
effects of a
courtyard
filled with
Classical
Greek
works of art on
display in the Vatican, thanks to Julius II, where Michelangelo
Buonarroti
was known to spend time examining them, sketchpad
in hand.15
Among
those works was
Athanadoros', Hagesandros', and Polydoros' of Rhodes
Laocoön and His Sons.16
Michelangelo's “boundless
admiration for the sculptors of antiquity” shown through not only
his drawings, but in his following Florentine sculptural
project of 1501,
David.17
After
the Greek sculptor Polykleitos had given form to the so-called
perfect beauty (called by Pliny the Elder, “art itself”) in the
work he named Canon, c.450-440 BCE, which modernity calls
Doryphoros (Spear Bearer), Greek statues mimicked both
the proportions and the anatomical nature of the
contrapposto-standing statue.18
The form of the nude male is rendered with details of a muscular
frame, although some exaggeration produces bulging love-handles,
sunken hips and a slight potbelly along with the muscular definition
of the torso.19
Four or five hundred years later, the anatomical features of the
marble Laocoön show a far more detailed depiction of the
muscular structures, retaining similar proportions, but replace the
balanced stillness and motion of Canon with anguish, action,
and struggle of the Trojan priest.20
The partially seated Laocoön holds fast to a massive serpent with
his left hand while wrenching his upper body and lunging from his
left foot away from the fangs. The serpent's fangs have already
struck deep, and the length of its body loops and enwraps the three
nude males, seeming to constrict the entire horrific scene.
Laocoön's clearly defined rib cage juts forward and his taught
muscles nearly seem to ripple under the strain.
The
Florentine that slew “the Giant”, the nickname of the block of
marble from which Michelangelo's 17'-tall David was carved,
took form a millennium and a half after Laocoön, between
1501-04.21
The giant had been resting for 60 years before Michelangelo took
on the project, which had been abandoned in the workshop of the first
artist to receive the commission.22
Like Canon, David stands with the right half of his body
seeming to be at rest, and the left half nearly moving, with his
weight shifted to his right hip.23
While Canon looks slightly to the right of his center, David
gazes down the line of his shoulders to the left. The veins on his
enlarged right hand budge and the bones of his left hand are clearly
visible. From his clavicle upward, each muscle in his neck visibly
strains. His rib cage is discernible, but is overlaid by and
intertwined with the powerful musculature in his torso. As Laocoön
increased in detail from Canon, so David's anatomical
detailing increased from Laocoön.
There
had been a long absence of the artist nude male, having only recently
been reintroduced by Donato di Niccolo Bardi, better known as
Donatello, in his c.1440-1460 bronze rendition of David.24
His David
nearly serves as “Canon”
to Michelangelo's
“Laocoön”:
the anatomical elements
are suggested in the earlier work, but the latter is render in far
greater detail.25
In the interim
between the two Renaissance artists, the Vatican's courtyard was
filled with statues from antiquity, and more than 750 corpses had
been meticulously dissected and painstakingly drawn. Michelangelo
himself was known to perform
dissections, and some
suggest that his previous
depiction of Christ's anguish was made more realistic because the
artist murdered a potter to watch the
death.26
Whether or not the rumors of foul play for art's sake can be
believed, it is clear that a fundamental “something” had changed
between the beginning of the Renaissance, and Michelangelo.
It
is tempting to claim that “something” is humanism, and it would
be in vogue with both modern historians, and perhaps even with the
Renaissance learned. The application of that now-fattened umbrella
term amounts to hand waving, and comes close to sophistry. It
is Canon to
Laocoön,
Donatello's
David
to Michelangelo's. The
right ideological
elements are there, but we need to dissect it to see what really
should be inside. The
love of antique statuary that was mutually shared by Julius
II and Michelangelo is
best and most accurately
called “classicism”. The
study Michelangelo unquestionably undertook of Greek and Roman
statues is immediately visible in his work. That alone is not
sufficient to explain the “something”
that changed.
While the Greek and Roman knowledge, transmitted to Italy at the
fall of Constantinople, surely played some part which sowed the seeds
of the future humanities, the quake that rocked the Medieval medical,
scientific, and artistic traditions was Leonardo da Vinci. And
that was
something completely new.
Bibliography
Athanadoros,
Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes.
“Laocoön and His Sons.”
Marble, early first century
CE (Musei Vaticani, Rome). In
Gardner’s Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 2-59.
Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.
Bell,
Jordan. “Modus Tollens.” MathWorld—A Wolfram Web Resource.
Last modified March 20, 2014. Accessed March 26, 2014.
http://mathworld.wolfram.com/ModusTollens.html.
British
Museum Company. The Drawing of Michelangelo. Narrated
by Neil MacGregor. 2005. New York: Films Media Group. Streaming
video. URL: http://digital.films.com/play/S8M27B.
Buonarroti,
Michelangelo. “David.” Marble, 1501-1504 (Galleria
dell'Accademia, Florance). In
Gardner’s Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 9-9.
Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.
"Classicism
and
Neoclassicism."
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online. Accessed
March 20, 2014.
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/120317/Classicism.
Donatello.
“David.” Bronze,
c.1440-1460
(Museo Nazionale del
Bargello, Florance). In
Gardner’s Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 8-20.
Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.
Garrison,
Fielding. An
Introduction to the History of Medicine with Medical Chronology
Bibliographic Data and Test Questions. Philadelphia
and London: W. B. Saunders Company, 1914. PDF e-book.
"Humanism."
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online.
Accessed
March 20, 2014.
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/275932/humanism.
"Humanities."
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online. Accessed
March 26, 2014.
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/276026/humanities.
Kleiner,
Fred. Gardner's Art Through the Ages, 3rd ed.
Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.
Park,
Katharine. “The Criminal and the Saintly Body: Autopsy and
Dissection in Renaissance Italy.” Renaissance
Quarterly, Vol.
47, No. 1 (Spring, 1994): 10,
URL:
http://www.jstor.org/stable/2863109.
Polykleitos.
“Doryphoros
(Spear Bearer).”
Marble,
Roman copy of a bronze original,
c. 450-440
BCE (Museo Archeologico
Nazionale, Naples).
In Gardner’s Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 2-35.
Boston: Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013.
The
Power of the Past, with Bill Moyers: Florence.
Films On Demand. 1990. New
York: Films
Media Group.
Streaming
video. URL:
http://digital.films.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/PortalPlaylists.aspx?aid=18623&xtid=44390.
1 See
the sections “The
14th
Century” and
“The
15th
Century”
from:
"Humanism,"
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online,
accessed March 20, 2014,
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/275932/humanism.
2 "Humanism,"
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online,
accessed March 20, 2014,
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/275932/humanism.
3 For
the types of “humanism” see “Other Uses” under
"Humanism,"
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online,
accessed March 20, 2014,
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/275932/humanism.
For
Classicism see: "Classicism
and
Neoclassicism,"
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online,
accessed March 20, 2014,
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/120317/Classicism.
4 This
was my honestly held belief and the line of argumentation that I set
out to prove when beginning my research. I was not able to find any
creditable historians that make this argument, but Katharine Park
mentions key elements of the alleged prohibitions on dissection in
her paper, calling it a myth on par with “the flat-earth” (pg.
4). She, at length, demonstrates that it is a falsely-held modern
belief about History.
5 "Humanities,"
Encyclopædia
Britannica Online, accessed
March 26, 2014,
http://www.britannica.com.ezproxy2.library.arizona.edu/EBchecked/topic/276026/humanities.
6 Fielding
Garrison, An Introduction to the History of Medicine with Medical
Chronology Bibliographic Data and Test Questions (Philadelphia
and London: W. B. Saunders Company, 1914), 168.
7 Ibid.,
168.
8 Katharine
Park, “The Criminal and the Saintly Body: Autopsy and Dissection
in Renaissance Italy,” Renaissance Quarterly, Vol.
47, No. 1 (Spring, 1994): 10, URL:
http://www.jstor.org/stable/2863109.
9 Ibid.,
2-3.
10 Ibid.,
16.
11 Garrison,
149.
12 Ibid.,
145.
13 For
clarity sake, here I make repeated use of Modus Tollens, which is a
very basic argument form in the discipline of Logic. If the artist
can't gain an anatomical understanding, then it is reflected in the
art. If there is a reflected lack of knowledge, then there is a
loss of general observational knowledge. If the lack of knowledge
comes from a loss of direct observation, then it might be caused by
either a lack of access or prohibitions on the practice.
There was access, and there was no effective prohibitions;
therefore, direct observation was possible.
Therefore, there is no lack of general
observational knowledge.
Therefore, it is not the case that the reflection is of a lack of
knowledge. Therefore, it is not the case that the artists could not
gain an anatomical understanding. For
a very brief explanation of M.T., see: Jordan
Bell, “Modus Tollens,” MathWorld—A
Wolfram Web Resource, last
modified March
20, 2014, accessed March 26, 2014,
http://mathworld.wolfram.com/ModusTollens.html.
14 I
will acknowledge that the “human-centric” option is still live,
but it seems that the
application of that kind of secular thinking ought not to mesh as
well with
religious art as it widely did. I
forgo that effort because it
would take a significantly greater amount of space.
15 British
Museum Company, The Drawing of Michelangelo,
narrated by Neil MacGregor, (2005; New York: Films Media Group),
streaming video, 09:26-10:05.
16 Ibid.,
10:20-10:27.
17 Ibid.,
11:57-12:22.
18 Fred
Kleiner,
Gardner's
Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
(Boston:
Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013),
68.
19 Polykleitos,
“Doryphoros
(Spear Bearer),”
marble
Roman copy of a bronze original,
c. 450-440
BCE (Museo
Archeologico Nazionale,
Naples).
In Gardner’s
Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 2-35.
(Boston:
Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013),
68.
20 For
background information, see: Kleiner, 84. For the work of art, see:
Athanadoros,
Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes,
“Laocoön and
His Sons,” marble, early
first century CE (Musei Vaticani, Rome). In
Gardner’s Art Through the
Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 2-59.
(Boston:
Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013),
68.
21 Ibid.,
266.
22 The
Power of the Past, with Bill Moyers: Florence,
Films On Demand, (1990;
New
York: Films
Media Group),
streaming video,
01:11:58-01:12:51.
23 Michelangelo
Buonarroti, “David,” marble, 1501-1504 (Galleria dell'Accademia,
Florance). In
Gardner’s
Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 9-9.
(Boston:
Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013),
266.
24 Kleiner,
238-239.
25 Donatello,
“David,” bronze, c.1440-1460 (Museo Nazionale del Bargello,
Florance). In
Gardner’s
Art Through the Ages,
3rd
ed.,
by Fred Kleiner, Figure 8-20.
(Boston:
Wadsworth Cengage Learning, 2013),
238.
26 Park,
19.
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