
Until 18th January 2009, the ‘Renaissance Faces’ exhibition in London’s National Gallery explores Renaissance portraiture, and touches on all aspects of life, including betrothal and marriage
Until 18th January 2009, the ‘Renaissance Faces’ exhibition in London’s National Gallery explores Renaissance portraiture, and touches on all aspects of life, including betrothal and marriage
WANDERING AROUND the fascinating exhibition ‘Renaissance Faces’, it might come easily to think that love and marriage in the 15th and 16th centuries were quite a different business than they are today. Solemn-faced women and pensive men peer out from inside their frames, their expressions guarded but at the same time, peculiarly enigmatic. Who were these people? And why were they painted?
Portraits had many functions during Renaissance times: they might have had a religious purpose, mark the importance of an event or of certain subjects by devoting a portrait to them, or provide a likeness of newly betrothed couples before their wedding day.
At times, it is unclear as to whether a portrait was intended for a prospective partner or if it was, rather, an artist’s representation of a saint, a classical heroine, a prominent man’s mistress or lover, or even of a popular courtesan.
A FAIR RENDITION
In the case of betrothals, painters had the job of portraying their subject with a certain degree of honesty – that is, providing prospective spouses with a likeness that wasn’t too far removed from reality, and one that could be used as a basis for deciding whether or not the sitter was a suitable candidate for marriage. But it was also the artist’s job to portray the potential bride or groom in the best possible of lights. And this they did by accentuating aspects considered to equate with beauty. In keeping with the Greek philosopher Plato’s view that beauty was equated with virtue, painters took care to emphasise commonly held positive attributes such as, in female portraits, bright eyes, a high forehead and scarlet lips, as these were the characteristics that would convey not only the subject’s good looks, but also their moral goodness. It was also a way of implying good health, an issue of great importance in Renaissance times, as the main goal of marriage was to produce children, and a feeble woman was not an ideal child-bearing wife.
In this optic, it is tempting to see the painter in the role of matrimonial agent, trying to bring out the best in his subject to please a future spouse, perhaps not unlike a modern day photographer talking shots of his subject from the best angle, so the viewer will be won over by the beauty and virtue of the sitter (modern society still tends to interpret handsome features as an indication of higher intelligence and more fully developed social skills). And of course, once a couple was married, portraits were often carried out so distant relations could see the couple in good health, perhaps along with their first child, as a sign that the baby was growing well, not something that was taken for granted in times when infant mortality was high. Here we take a look of four of the exhibition’s paintings, with a quick explanation of who the sitters were and why they were portrayed.
Attractive, sensual and practical: all in all, a good catch!
BACCHUS AND ARIADNE
Tullio Lombardo’s celebrated marble relief ‘A Young Couple’ (opposite, left), has as its subject a beautiful young couple depicted against a horizontal background and leaning against a plinth. The couple gaze upwards, wistful, mouths open and heads touching.
The male figure is crowned with vine leaves and grapes which identifies him as Bacchus, and his companion as Ariadne. However, the treatment of both characters’ hair is delicate and detailed, their beautiful, crimped tresses the true focus of the piece. A closer look at Ariadne’s snood reveals intricate patterns of flowers and leaves, her covered hair suggesting she is a married woman and that the relief may have been commissioned to celebrate a wedding.
‘Portrait of a Woman, La Bella’ (top,left), by Palma Vecchio, on the other hand, is one of those paintings that has critics arguing over whether the subject is a portrait or an archetypal representation of female beauty. With her pale skin, blond hair, high forehead and bright eyes, experts tend to agree however that she’s probably a bride to be, and they underline the sensuality of her dress, the suggestive way she’s touching her hair and the fact that her left hand is resting on a sewing basket, the sign of a woman ready to oversee a well run household. Attractive, sensual and practical: all in all, a good catch!
THE YOKE OF RESPONSIBILITY
In ‘Marsilio Cassotti and his Wife Faustina’ (top, right), Lorenzo Lotto captured his couple at the moment of matrimony, as he about to slide the ring on her wedding finger. The Cassotti, who commissioned the portrait, were wealthy textile merchants eager to portray their son’s success in securing the hand of his Faustina in a distinguished painting. Much emphasis is given to the woman’s jewels and silk clothing, including a gold chain which symbolises her acquiescence to her husband, as, indeed, does her somewhat submissive pose. Behind the couple is Cupid, who, with the hint of a smile, places on the couple’s shoulders a yolk representing the responsibilities of marriage, and which sprouts a laurel branch, symbol of fidelity between married couples.
The painting ‘Giovanni della Volta and his family’ (above, centre), again by Lorenzo Lotto, is a portrait of della Volta, a Venetian merchant, with his wife and family, the focus of the work the bowl of cherries on the table. The mother offers cherries to her daughter, while the father offers them to the son, but there is an overall feeling of detachment and melancholy to the work, the expressions of the man and wife wary, even the children managing to look a trifle glum despite the promise of cherries. Whether this underlying sadness is a reflection of Lotto’s own feelings on the establishment of marriage, or simply the solemnity of a family on its best behaviour, we’ll never know.
With thanks to Thomas Almeroth-Williams
National Gallery, London
Web: www.nationalgallery.org.uk