The church theme continues with a retrospective post describing a walk in Venice last week.
One of the problems with walking from my hotel to the RSA convention centre is that the route holds many traps for the art lover, especially churches. The temptation is too great to stop off at these buildings which hold examples of top-notch Venetian painting and sculpture. I find myself torn between art on the power point in the conference room, and art in its original surroundings.
Stepping out my hotel, I turn left and walk along the Fondamente Savorgnan, and bear left again to find the church of St Giobbe. One of five plague churches built in Venice; it is a low-key affair, a place for quiet contemplation of lesser-known works rather than awestruck ogling of more famous canvases. It wasn't always the case: St Giobbe's most famous possession- Bellini's eponymous altarpiece- has long decamped to the Accademia. Still, what's on display is intriguing. For example, you can see an example of the Brescian artist, Andrea Previtali, in the sacristy. Back in the main church you'll see the tomb of the French ambassador to Venice, executed by Perrault and others. The Doge Cristoforo Moro- some say the model for Shakespeare's Othello- is also buried here. Other artists featured include Luca della Robbia and Savoldo. And don't forget the Altar of the Gondoliers!
Retracing my footsteps, I head through the markets in the direction of the Piazzale Roma. On the left I'm confronted by the 18th century facade of San Geremia e Lucia.
Known as the seat of St Lucy who, in a picture near the entrance, holds out her eyes on a tray to you (er, no thanks). I find the atmosphere here less congenial than San Giobbe; the art is less interesting too. There are also quite a lot of relics and bodies in cases, hinting at Venice's taste for the macabre.
Onwards and upwards to the vaporetto whose passengers wait in the shadow of the Scalzi church. Now this is baroque architecture, but not offensively so. You get more of the atmosphere of the baroque inside where the air of cloying sanctity is more apparent because I've accidentally walked in on a mass. Standing and staring at the altar paintings while the priest intones, I endure quizzical stares from parishioners who are here for the religion, not the art. Perhaps I forgot to cross myself or genuflect upon entering. The taste of the Scalzi is opulent, and I'm not at all surprised to learn later that Ruskin condemned it for its baroque ostentation. This church is the wine to San Giobbe's water.
Straight over the large bridge opposite the Scalzi, and down into the entrammeled streets around Venice's most famous church, Titian's church- the Frari. I had forgotten how overpowering this site of altar painting and tomb sculpture can be. The Frari effect is lessened these days though; entry is not by the main door which meant originally you'd see Titian's Assunta right in front of you and his Pesaro Madonna to the left, but by a side door. Turning right, you now walk along and stop in front of the Pesaro Madonna as if encountering it in a museum. Then it's a walk up to Canova's sleek, melancholy tomb- originally meant for Titian- but now Canova's heart is buried there.
Directly opposite is that 19th century marble monstrosity that shows Titian in death as Michelangelo's Moses- it's the most inappropriate gesture anybody could have dreamt up for a painter whose creed was the dynamic brushstroke, not the lifelessness of stone.
Of course, all this is the preamble to the glorious vision of Titian's Assunta, which merits at least 30 minutes of anybody's time. Unfortunately, I'm on a schedule so I devote only 10 minutes to it. Every time I look at this awesome paintng, I'm struck by how it synthesizes a whole range of styles and periods: the gold of heaven recalling the Byzantine mosaics of St Marks; the shadows over the apostles bringing to mind the 'dark manner' of Leonardo da Vinci. Sidney Freedberg said that Titian approached the baroque in this work, but ultimately chose not to take that route. That was left to Correggio with his dazzling frescoes in Parma Cathedral.
Out into the sunshine and threading my way through what James/Jan Morris calls in his/her book on Venice the "spider's web" of streets around the Frari. Eventually, if you know the route you'll emerge near the Zattere that faces the channel of the Guidecca.
Turning left and passing the Don Orione- nerve centre of the conference- you fetch up against the last church for this morning- the Gesuati..
This exterior of this building has grandeur about it: Corinthian pillars supporting a very classical pediment. Inside, the magnificence continues, but there's a stylistic contrast because of the presence of late baroque/early rococo paintings by Tiepolo, Ricci and Piazzetta. Tilting the head back to look up at Tiepolo's ceiling paintings for the Dominicans can result in giddiness. Weightless bodies covered by drapery and the lightness of the colours suggest levitation rather than feet firmly planted on the ground.
But I must get to the conference and its academic sessions, of which more another time…
I was just looking at the pdf of the conference you are attending. It looks very fine and intense, with a lot of brilliant people. My favorite is the following, which actually sounds like a good idea, but still, at a distance sounds humorous:
"Madness, Breastfeeding, and the Nature of Women in Renaissance Medicine
Drawing from ancient and medieval traditions, by the end of the fifteenth century academic
medicine in the Latin West had fully developed a notion of the female body as venomous and
prone to cause illness to others. Central to this conception was menstrual blood, understood as
the result of women’s failure to refine blood into semen and as the cleansing process that female
bodies underwent to purge from excess substances regularly during certain life stages. In this
paper we will discuss not only how women’s bodies were conceptualized as potentially
venomous for others but also how they could be harmful to themselves. The physiological
connection between female madness and the impossibility of breastfeeding will be explained
within this framework. We will explore how Renaissance medicine approached these issues in
original academic works and in contemporary commentaries of the Articella — the core of the
medical teaching syllabus." Cheers, Peter
Posted by: Peter Fuchs | 04/15/2010 at 05:06 AM
Thanks Pete- That's a good example. I missed a lot of sessions, including that one. You're spoiled for choice at RSA. My next Venetian installment will be on the conference itself. Best- David
Posted by: Art History Today | 04/15/2010 at 06:02 PM
yeah!the conference looks very good...right time and right place ..thats it ...great morning walk..cheers
Posted by: Venecijaneri Beograd | 03/08/2012 at 03:21 PM
Venetian Notes 2: A Morning’s Walk - Art History Today
Posted by: lida daidaihua | 08/05/2013 at 06:37 AM