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(l :Ly. .3. 2.; Q! n. , ;\1fi‘i>\)z..!\. u!!)\h ‘1 ox. . >1xiv~\vb)!9 l‘ I/T‘lllj ,31 wensmr LIBRARIES Milli/ll!Hill/ill!l/Il/lI/Hl 93 01415 3351 This is to certify that the thesis entitled Titian's Venus Anadyomene and the Close-up Female Nude: Its Sources and Context presented by Ann Christy Fisher has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for MasteLQLArLadcgree in Art History Maser/‘4 Major professor Date 6//5"/97 0-7639 MS U is an Affirmative Action/Equal Opportunity Institution LIBRARY Mlchlgan State Unlverslty .' . PLACER RETURN lOXtomwoMMMMmm TOAVOIDFINESMunonordeI-Iddom DATE DUE DATE DUE DATE DUE Wt ——————_7As_—i ‘_. TITIAN'S XENHS_ANADXQMENE AND THE CLOSE-UP FEMALE NUDE: ITS SOURCES AND CONTEXT By Ann Christy Fisher A THESIS Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS Department of Art 1994 ABSTRACT TITIAN’S W AND THE CLOSE-UP FEMALE NUDE: ITS SOURCES AND CONTEXT By Ann Christy Fisher This essay explores the sources and context of Titian's ,yenns_Anad¥gmene (c. 1520). As a three-quarter—length, close-up view of a solitary female nude, this painting is unique as a type in the Renaissance. What sources might have inspired such a rendering of a female nude? How might the work have spoken to the tastes and expectations of its artist, patron, and society? I propose that, in rendering the Menus, Titian drew on his knowledge of a number of contemporary sources including works by Giovanni Bellini, Giorgione, Antonio Lombardo, Marcantonio Raimondi, Michelangelo, his knowledge of antiquities, and also on other Renaissance genres of painting that depict women. These images of women all reflect a preoccupation with issues of beauty - an emphasis which relates to social and cultural attitudes predominating in sixteenth—century Venice. Finally I suggest that Alfonso d'Este commissioned Titian's 12W. Copyright by ANN CHRISTY FISHER 1994 I would like to thank the members of my committee: Professors Webster Smith, Stanley Chojnacki, and Susan Madigan, for the guidance and assistance that each gave for this project. I would like to extend special thanks to my advisor, Professor Webster Smith, who consistently and patiently offered valuable direction through the research and writing of this thesis. My deep thanks also to Monique Shira for her thoughtful corrections on the final rough draft, and to my family, Alan, Carol, Garrett, Jim and Elisa, whose continued encouragement and support was received with much gratitude. iv INTRODUCTION The yenn3_Anadygmene,by Titian hangs in the National Gallery of Scotland in Edinburgh (Fig. 1). It measures 73.6 by 58.4 centimeters1 and portrays the ancient Greek myth of the birth of Aphrodite, goddess of love. In Ihe_nndeL_A fitnd¥_in_1deal_Egzm,Kenneth Clark describes this oil painting as anticipating “the whole conception of the subject [the nude]....the female body with all its sensuous weight ... offered in isolation as an end in itself.‘2 Venus rises from the sea after her birth from the shell, an attribute of the goddess of love that floats in the sea to her right.3 IBending forward, she wrings the water from her auburn hair. The predominantly deep blue background of sea and sky contrasts with the light rosy skin of the nude goddess. Earlier Renaissance artists such as Botticelli in Florence and Jacopo Bellini in Venice depicted this subject and had dealt in various ways with the 2 nude female form. The female nude is also a recurring theme in the work of many of Titian's contemporaries (Giovanni Bellini, Antonio Lombardo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Raphael), yet Titian's picture seems to be unique in its time. For the first time in Renaissance art, Titian depicts the female nude in a standing pose in isolation and yet as though close-up to the viewer, as she appears in three-quarter- length rather than full-length. Clark recognizes the uniqeness of Titian's rendering of Venus and states that 'It would be interesting to know under what circumstances Titian conceived it." Scholars have generally recognized the importance of this painting in Titian's artistic career, and in the broader scope of Venetian Renaissance art history.5 But to my knowledge, only one, warren Tressider, in his unpublished dissertation, 'Classicism in the Early WOrks of Titian“ (1979), has discussed this painting at length. Tressider argues convincingly that the Venus is probably based in part on a figure in relief by the sculptor Antonio Lombardo.‘ The present study of the ygnna_Anadmeg g proposes that Titian drew simultaneously from a number of sources including his master, Giovanni Bellini, and even Michelangelo no less than Antonio Lombardo. 3 Scholars have also raised questions concerning the original context of this work. The patron of the painting and the place where the work was originally hung remain unknown. Titian's subject -- a rather intimate and yet idealized depiction of a woman -- also brings up social issues. Where, and in what particular social setting would it have been appropriate to view such a depiction of a woman? What sorts of taste and expectation might such an image have gratified? In the following sections of this essay I will attempt to address these questions, first by looking at the place of the Venus in Titian's career and within his artistic circle, and then by suggesting what kind of significance this painting might have had in Renaissance society. The following two sections attempt to determine the date of the painting and its relationship to other contemporary renderings of the subject. The third section examines the relationship of Titian's painting to other genres of the period that are concerned with the depiction of a beautiful woman, particularly the sensuous half-length image, which is the subject of a recent dissertation by Anne Junkerman. These genres reflect social attitudes of the time and thus, in turn, might shed some historical light on 4 Titian's yenns_Anadygmene. The fourth and fifth sections address the question of the three-quarter-length view of Venus, offering a look at the painting's significant connection first to antique visual and literary sources, particularly to Pliny the Elder's account of a lost ancient painting of Venus by Apelles and, second, to a particular type of composition of both religious and secular images, which has been described as the “Dramatic Close-Up,‘ and which frequently appeared in both Northern-European and Italian painting in the late fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Finally, in section six, I will speculate on who might have been the patron of this work, and on where it might have originally been located. Titian's yenna_Anadygmene is a work that John Shearman would describe as having 'a slow fuse."7 Such a painting might require a person to return to it a number of times to fully comprehend it, and it will most likely comprise visual quotations or paraphrase other works of art as well as allusions to literary sources. The yenns_5nadygmene is a work that reveals itself to us, the viewers, bit by bit, layer by layer, over time. We must return to it again and again. Thus, each section of this essay will examine and re-examine the Vanna, each time from a different angle. We 5 will see that the significance of this painting lies in part in Titian's imaginative use of antique and contemporary sources in his creation of a new kind of image of the female nude, and in the capacity of this work to reflect artistic, social, and cultural attitudes of the time. 1. Dating the I:nnn_finndxgngng If one could understand the place of the Venus Anadygmene in the development of Titian's style, one might then begin to know the circumstances under which the painting was made. Although no Renaissance document specifically refers to this painting, art historians have nevertheless arrived at a consensus on an approximate date for the work: c. 1517-20.° Perhaps one can verify this by relating the painting to Panofsky's scheme of Titian's artistic development. He divides this development into six phases.’ 'The first phase is characterized by a red and green color scheme, illustrated in Titian’s early work, SW (1515) (Fig. 2).10 In this ‘ composition the landscape consists of green trees and meadows, and the sky has a soft green glow. The dress of the woman on the left matches the color of the sky except for the contrasting red of her sleeves and the red robe that partially covers the otherwise nude woman opposite her. The second stage in Panofsky's scheme is characterized by a blue 7 and red color scheme, a scheme that is not apparent in any of the artist's later works. Panofsky states: In contrast to the first, still somewhat tentative phase, the second is an age of impassioned freedom and self-realization...the tension between light and color is resolved in favor of color. The grey shadows have disappeared. The chromatic harmony begins to be dominated by the chord of red and blue on the terrestrial plane...rather than the Giorgionesque red and green.11 Titian's Bacghna_and_Ariadne (Fig. 3) clearly illustrates this second phase. It was executed for the Duke Alfonso d'Este as part of the Camerino d'Alabastro and was finished c. 1520—23.12 In this work Bacchus's brilliant red cape ruffles before a bright blue sky and counters Ariadne's red scarf, which is draped around her richly toned blue dress. The mountains along the horizon appear as blue silhouettes. This painting exemplifies the red and blue color scheme at its peak. Panofsky then cites elements in Titian's later works, noting characteristics that have not appeared in the artist's second phase of development. There is a return to the red and green color scheme (seen in phase 1) in his third and fourth phases, and an incorporation of genre scenes into the background of compositions as, for example, in the.IennS_Q£_flrhinQ, 1538 (Fig. 4). The tones of the 8 sheet and pillows that frame the reclining figure in this later painting match the dress of the clothed woman in Sag:ed_and_£rgfane_Lgye‘ and the red mattresses are close in color to the dress of the woman in the background. Also this venus is rendered in a provocative manner, for she engages the viewer with an inviting and direct glance, a frankness not seen earlier. This new sensuality becomes an important element of Titian's later style: the fifth phase in Panofsky's scheme.13 In this fifth phase Titian paints with comparatively loose, even expressionistic, brush strokes and tends to crowd his compositions more, as seen in his Diana_and Agtegn, 1556—59 (Fig. 5). Titian would seem, moreover, to have excluded the subject matter of Venus entirely from this final phase.“ The predominant color chord in the yenns_Anad¥Qmene is blue-pink, akin to the blue—red seen most decisively in Bagghns_and_Ariadne, and thus seems most closely connected in style to the second phase. warren Tressider has noted, besides, a similarity between the yenns_5nadygmeng and a nude in the W. another painting of that phase (Fig. 6). Both figures, in Tressider's opinion, typify the artist's classicism in the years of his early 9 maturity. At this point Titian breaks away from using ancient sculpture as models for his painting. In such works as the Bagghanal of 1520—24, Titian instead draws on a literary source: Philostratus's Imaginea, a description, or ekphrasis, of an ancient painting -- either real or imagined -- of the same scene. This imaginative reference to a literary source as well as to visual models inspired a new freedom in Titian's art; his figures now appear as though liberated from the quite sculptural and defined tendency of his earlier works. They are more naturalistic and lively. Tressider suggests that this new freedom also appears in the yenua_Anadygmene, and he notes that the composition was most likely intended as a recreation of one by the legendary painter Apelles, as described by Pliny Elder.15 Other historians have recognized this apparent connection as I will point out in Section IV of this paper. 11. Contemporary Sources for the Innnl_nnadxnnnnn If this painting can thus be placed at least approximately within the chronological sequence of Titian's works, what were, then, the more particular circumstances under which Titian conceived it? One may argue that Titian, a genius painter in his own right, primarily drew upon his own individual creativity to conceive and paint such works as the Venus. However, one must also remember that Titian was not sequestered from the developing culture of Renaissance Italy. He worked within a rich social milieu that included artists and humanists, and their influential clients. His brilliant imagination also fed on the innovations of leading contemporary masters both inside and outside Venice. Panofsky states: One of the many things which makes Titian great is that his horizon was not limited to Venice or even North Italy. He learned what could be learned not only from the antique (as Jacopo Bellini and Montegna had done before him), but also from Durer, from Raphael, from Michelangelo....“ It is possible, then, that Titian drew from a diversity 10 11 of sources in creating this new figure of the goddess. She appears to reflect a keen response to innovations of other sixteenth- century masters including Bellini, Giorgione, and Antonio Lombardo in the North, and Michelangelo in Central Italy. One of the earliest and most profound influences on Titian was that of his master, Giovanni Bellini, who, before Titian, was the most respected painter in Venice.17 Tatian arrived in Venice at the age of eight and soon entered the workshop of Gentile Bellini. He soon became dissatisfied with the old-fashioned style of this master: its tight, meticulously rendered forms and compositions; he soon moved on to the studio of Giovanni Bellini.“ To a greater extent than any other Venetian artist of the time, this master based his art on direct observation of the natural world. He achieved a new sense of light and color that transcended the careful outlinings and shadings of his contemporaries. WOrking in oil paint, Bellini often layered translucent color and glazes to create forms of unprecedented luminosity and softness.19 In comparison to their Venetian contemporaries and predecessors, Bellini's figures appear as though 'unfrozen;' they seem to breathe. One of Bellini's latest works, Lady_at_flez_1gilet of 12 1515 (Fig. 8), reflects his new sense of form and light. Her contours are soft, and the picture is unusual, perhaps unique for its time, as a type of depiction of the female nude." She appears in three-quarter length view rather than in full-length.21 She appears thus closer to the viewer than any previous rendering of the female nude. It is possible that Titian saw this work before he began to paint the yanns_Anadygmene. Important similarities between Titian’s Menus and his master’s work are certainly worth consideration and will be addressed later in this thesis.22 By the first decade of the sixteenth century Titian had already left Bellini's workshop and had begun to work with Giorgione. Giorgione was also a former student of Giovanni's and six years Titian's senior. Titian first met this artist when they were both commissioned to paint the facades of the Fondaco del Tedeschi in 1508, a building which served as the German merchants' quarters in Venice. Unfortunately little remains of this project. Until 1961 one knew of the frescoes only through descriptions, the etchings by Piccini and Zanetti, and the discovery in 1937 of a portion of one of Giorgione's frescoes on the front of the Fondaco, facing onto the Grand Canal. In 1961 the Soprintendenza discovered extensive portions of Titian's 13 frescoes on the Fondaco's southern facade. From these remains and the eighteenth-century descriptions one may gain some notion of the original style of these paintings.23 Vasari describes Giorgione's figures on the Fondaco as 'well-grouped...and there are in it heads and parts of figures very well painted, and most vivacious in colouring. In all that he did there he aimed at being faithful to nature.'*‘ In the surviving fragment by Giorgione a full- length nude is depicted frontally and in a gnntzappgstg,pose reminiscent of antique sculpture. One gets a glimpse of the master's advanced coloristic sensibility in this piece, which appears to progress even beyond the colorism in the late work of Giovanni Bellini. This fresco still has traces of different tints of red in an airy light space (Fig. 8). Terisio Pignatti relates this vibrant colorism to other works by Giorgione including Ihe_Ihzee_£hilgsgpheza (Fig. 32). In this painting the artist uses afnmatg to soften edges and create subtlety in the definition of his forms.” The artist models his figures with soft, vibrant hues that blend harmoniously with the colors of the landscape behind them. This new chromatic consistency is apparent in his work during and after the Fondaco project. Johannes Wilde describes Giorgione's figures on the Fondaco as 14 a new canon of the human figure, one that can hardly have been acquired without studying examples of antique art: figures with well articulated limbs and free movements, and with draperies of broad, natural forms, serving as a support as in ancient statuary.26 Giorgione was perhaps the first painter to have created full-length female nudes of large scale in action poses. This achievement of Giorgione's and also his emphasis on color, are recalled, however indirectly, in Titian's Menus Anadygmene. Rendered in soft pink hues, his goddess emerges from the waves with a sense of freedom that she owes in part to Giorgione's example. Venus's arms attend to her hair, and her solid torso bends forward with grace and ease. Titian painted the frescoes on the southern facade of the Fondaco. From prints and descriptions we know that a monochromatic frieze extended the length of this exterior and a series of figures in fictive architectural niches were painted beneath it. Above the main portal Titian painted the figure of Judith slaying Holophernes. A fresco of a nude woman, identified as Eve, was portrayed on the far end of the facade facing the Rialto Bridge and a figure of another woman, identified as Venus, matched her pose at the opposite end of the wall (Figs. 10, 11).27 Titian presumably studied Giorgione's frescoes during 15 his own work on the Fondaco. From the salvaged portions of Titian's paintings from the southern facade one recognizes this younger artist's application of Giorgione's colorism as demonstrated in the vibrant tones still apparent in his fresco of Judith. One also recognizes the naturalism and freedom of Judith's pose as she energetically raises her sword. Morassi (1956) also suggests a difference in style between these two artists that is evident in the Fondaco frescoes. Where, in his characteristic manner, Giorgione applied careful, meticulous strokes to his surface in his painting of the nude, Titian applied paint in thick dabs. There appears to be a new vitality and restlessness in Titian's figures, exemplified in Judith, that does not appear in Giorgione's peaceful, idealized renderings. Where Giorgione adheres to the spirit of classical antiquity in painting sculptural forms in gantzanpgatg, Titian breaks from this mold to create figures, such as the Judith, that appear weighted and as if they are indeed of flesh and blood.“ One also sees these qualities in Titian's Venus Anadggmene. Like Giorgione, Titian exhibits an interest in the female form, seen in the Venus at the same time that she does not appear in contrappgstg. Only her head is turned; 16 otherwise, her body leans forward, breaking out of the classical pose. She bathes herself and wrings the water from her hair in what seems like a natural, human gesture. While he worked on the Fondaco dei Tedeschi, Titian accepted a number of other commissions. Charles Hope states that, from a young age, Titian actively sought patrons who were prominent in the public sphere. He began to work for Jacopo Pesaro, for example, as early as 1506. Pesaro was the leader of one of the most powerful families in Venice. It is also known that, as early as 1508, Titian accepted commissions from the Barbarigo family and, in 1514, he painted the famous work, Sacred_and_zzgfang_Lgye, for a senior civil servant, Niccolo Aurelio.29 Titian also took part in the redecoration of the Sala del Maggior Consiglio in the Palazzo Ducale and thereby established himself as one of the most important painters in Venice and, in 1516, he began to work for the Duke of Ferrara, Alfonso d'Este. The Duke commissioned Titian to paint the three famous Bacchanals between 1518 and 1524. He was one of the few patrons in Italy who took great interest in paintings based on subjects admired in antiquity.30 It is at Ferrara that Titian came into contact with works of still other renowned Venetians and, also, Central 17 Italian masters. Among these works the marble relief of yann5_Anad¥qmene from the early sixteenth century by Antonio Lombardo (fig. 12) may have proved especially important to Titian when he began working on his painting of the same subject, as Tressider has already proposed. Perhaps Titian's Menna_Anadmeene reflects this rendering of a female nude more than any other that he could have known. Lombardo's Venus is portrayed above an inscription which describes her pose: 'NVDA VENUS MADIDAS EXPRIUT IMBRE BMV' of “Nude Venus rises from the sea and.wrings her dripping tresses."31 This relief (now in the Victoria and Albert Museum) was commissioned by Alfonso d'Este in the early 1500s for the Duke's Camerino di Marmo at Ferrara. This Venus is based, at least in part, on a description by Ovid of an antique gem.32 In the early 15203 the Duke commissioned Titian to paint three Bacchanal scenes for his Camerino d'Alabastro. It is generally thought that this room was part of a five-apartment complex called the Via Coperta, which connected the Castello Estense with the rest of the Palazzo.33 This particular room was located next door to the Camerino di Marmo. The younger artist probably came into contact with Lombardo's work during this period. A certain similarity of Titian's yenns_Anadygmene to 18 Lombardo's relief would lend support to the dating of this picture to c. 1520, by which time Titian would presumably have seen this relief at Ferrara. One recognizes general similarities between the two works in overall composition and in the artists' rendering of the nude female form. As in Titian's painting, Lombardo's figure appears in the foremost plane of his composition. She even challenges the frontal space as her right foot ventures out of the picture frame. Like Titian, Lombardo includes little else in his composition besides an indication of water and sky. Most striking is the similarity between the two figures in the way that they wring water from “dripping tresses.“ In both works Venus bends to her left, and one hand is positioned above the other as they grasp a lock of hair. There are also similarities in the soft curves and voluptuous torsos of the nude forms. Indeed, Titian's Menus seems more closely related in pose to Lombardo's figure than to the nudes on the Fondaco. The figure, then, was “intended“ as Tressider suggests, “to be viewed by people who would not only appreciate the sculptor's achievement, but who at the same time could recall Ovid's lines.““ 19 Images of thejyenns_Anadxgmene often appear on ancient gems. Perhaps Lombardo was himself inspired by such a visual ancient source no less than by Ovid. Edgar Wind states, “From what is known of the frequent adaptation of large sculptural or pictorial images to the diminutive scale of ancient gems, coins, and terracottas, it would seem that conflations of a statuesque posture with an Aphrodite_al ngnille must have originated in the minor arts.”5 Tressider also proposes a possible link with an engraving of Venus by Marcantonio Raimondi of 1506 (Fig. 13). He argues: Before Antonio Lombardo entered the service of Alfonso d'Este, Marcantonio Raimondi signed and dated (1506) an engraving of a full length.yenna_Anadygmene which could have been the prototype of Antonio's version and which was possibly done in Venice. The greater harmony in the resolution of the position of the arms in Antonio's sculpture suggests that his is an improved version of Raimondi's. This in itself raises a problem because, from what is known of the engraver's working methods at this time, it is quite possible that he himself was utilizing another source which in all likelihood was antique. The question therefore arises as to whether Antonio used the same classical source as Raimondi or simply borrowed from his print. The fact that Antonio's figure is in reverse pose to Raimondi's print could be taken as support for his utilization of a common ancient source.36 Important similarities appear between the works of Raimondi and Lombardo that support much of Tressider's 20 argument. Rendered in reverse image to Marcantonio's Menus, Lombardo's figure shares with Raimondi's the gantrappgstg stance, with one knee relaxed, and about the same gesture of arms and hands. This gesture is not depicted in surviving ancient renderings of the subject. It first appears in Marcantonio's engraving. One might assume, then, that Antonio consciously borrowed from Marcantonio in his marble- relief figure. Tressider acknowledges that Lombardo's Venus appears in reverse in relation to Marcantonio's. As Marcantonio's composition was inevitably reversed upon printing, his original drawing would have more closely matched the image of Lombardo's figure. Perhaps, therefore, as Tressider suggests, both masters worked originally from a common ancient source, or perhaps Lombardo saw Marcantonio's original drawing or reversed the engraving -- the possibilities go on and on. It is most likely, at any rate, that both renderings are derived at least indirectly from an ancient gem depicting Venus Anadyomene. One might then suggest that Titian's version was itself based on an antique source, perhaps the same one that could have inspired Lombardo and Marcantonio.37 It is also noteworthy that Titian had already been exposed to ancient statuary in his 21 earliest years as an artist, when ye entered Gentile Bellini's workshop and then Giovanni Bellini's. Gentile Bellini is reported to have owned a Praxitilian figure of a venue Anadyomene. Unfortunately, it has not survived, nor have sketches or drawings of it. No document refers specifically to this figure, other than a stanza in a poem by the fifteenth-century writer, Raffaele Zovenzone. Tressider translates this passage: Let the person who wishes to see the Paphian Venus With nude breasts in the ancient marble of Praxiteles Search the penthouse of Gentile Bellini, where it stands. But the image lives of itself.38 It is important to recognize also a distinct difference between Marcantonio's engraving and A. Lombardo's relief that Tressider does not mention; a difference that amounts to more than just a mechanical reversal. The figures differ from one another in the angle of the head in relationship to the torso. Marcantonio's figure looks cyan her right shoulder and away from the gesture of her arms while Lombardo’s Vanna looks tgwazda the wringing motion of her hands. Turning her head this way, she appears to be listening to the sea rather than looking out over it as she does in the engraving. Perhaps one can explain this difference by using Tressider's argument that Lombardo's 22 form is an “improved“ version of Raimondi's, that Lombardo wanted a greater “harmony in the resolution of the position of the arms“ and, I might add, in the inclination of Venus's head. In Marcantonio's print the goddess interrupts the smooth contour of her form, as she breaks its curving line to gaze back over her shoulder. In Lombardo's relief, on the other hand, the goddess's inclining head continues the curve established in the rest of her body and thus harmoniously completes the arc of her form. Although not mentioned by Tressider, this difference is yet more compelling when it recurs in Titian/s Vanna. It is most likely, although not demonstrated, that Titian became acquainted with Marcantonio's print as it was circulating in Venice. It is interesting that the gaze of Titian's figure mirrors more closely that of Marcantonio's Venus than that of Lombardo's. As in the print, Titian’s goddess looks away from the gesture of her hands. I would argue that Titian's Manna_Anad¥Qmana can be understood as an improved version by comparison with both of these earlier renderings. Maintaining the direction of the focus of Marcantonio's figure, Titian also, at the same time, inclines the head of his Manna in a manner not unlike Lombardo's, allowing the head to complete the line of Venus's back and shoulder. 23 Furthermore, Titian differs with both Marcantonio and Lombardo in the positions of venus's arms. The goddess's left arm crosses over her torso below her breast rather than above it, as in the earlier works. In this new position the arm falls comfortably into the hollow of Venus's front torso as she bends forward. Titian allows the gesture of Venus's left arm to ride with her torso rather than apart from it and thus he creates a more unified form. The figure's right arm also plays an important compositional role in this later piece as the gesture completes the arc established in the line of her back and inclining head. Titian's Manna seems to be listening and looking at the same time. The figures of Marcantonio and Lombardo strive for gantranpgatg -- both appear to lean into one hip with one knee bent. In both the sculpture and the print the torso is twisted: the lower part and the legs confront the viewer while her upper part turns away to accommodate the motion of her arms. By contrast, the lower torso and legs of Titian’s goddess move together in the same direction as her upper torso. Titian's Venus slips out of the contrappostal formula in favor of a more natural-seeming pose; she is not caught up in an aesthetic arrangement of limbs and torso; she moves forward, through the water, with unprecedented 24 ease and naturalness. Titian's yenus.Anad¥omene is in a way closer, rather, to Giovanni Bellini's,Ladz_at_flaz_2gilatta (Fig. 7). If Titian's yann3,were to be seen in reverse, then a strong similarity would appear between the two pictures in the positioning of the figures' arms. Venus's right arm falls below her breast, as in Bellini's picture. Furthermore, the right arm is related to the head in the same way in both works. In the manner that Bellini's nude holds a mirror to her face, Titian's Manna reaches up to grasp a lock of her hair. In both figures the left arm continues and completes this upward curve. As I suggested above, this earlier painting, by Titian's own master, and known as one of the first depictions of a three-quarter-length female nude in Renaissance Italy, was probably available to Titian before he began to work on the Vanna_Anadggmana. The young, intelligent Titian would have recognized its importance and presumably would have wanted to emulate this figure in some way in his own work. The strong similarity between Bellini's Lady and Titian's Manua_supports the idea that Titian borrowed from his own master in rendering the Manna Anadyamana, no less than from Marcantonio or Antonio 25 Lombardo or an antique gem. Another possibility also suggests itself: that Bellini's Ladxpwas itself meant to recall the classical Anadygmana that Bellini is known to have had in his possession. It seems, in any case, less and less likely that Titian had only one inspiration in mind for his new figure of venus. The three-quarter view and the three-quarter length of Titian's Manna are significant qualities not shared, however, by any of the previously discussed renderings. Might one then suggest that yet another image of the female nude entered into Titian's thinking on the yann3_Anadygmana? It has been noted that Titian characteristically drew simultaneously from a number of sources that included the innovations of leading artists in central Italy and Germany as well as those of Venetian masters.39 Lombardo, Marcantonio, Giovanni Bellini, and, very possibly, some classical fragments, are perhaps only a few among a number of possible sources for Titian's Manna_Anad¥gmana. Could not even Michelangelo have entered into Titian's thoughts concerning Venus? Creighton Gilbert has developed an interesting argument proposing the possible effect of Michelangelo on the earlier work of Titian.‘o I would like to summarize Gilbert's argument here, on the next several 26 pages, before going on to suggest a connection between the Manna_Anadmeana and a memorable figure of Michelangelo's invention. Gilbert adds onto a series of observations, initiated by Johannes Wilde in the 19503, that many of Titian's figures seem to have been drawn from works by Michelangelo; Titian would present them in reverse, with slight alterations, and in his own, different, contexts. Gilbert specifically discusses a striking likeness, first noticed by Wilde, between a reversed photograph of Titian's Murdar_9£_a Hifa of 1511 in the Scuola del Santo in Padua (Fig. 14) and Michelangelo's Eve in the Temptation scene on the Sistine ceiling.‘1 He also recognizes similarities between the two figures in Titian's Sagzad_and_2zgfana_Lgya and reversed images of Michelangelo's Prgphat_agal and the Delphig_Syhil on the Sistine ceiling.‘2 Wilde was the first Renaissance art historian to draw such an unexpected comparison between Titian and Michelangelo and also the first to examine in depth this artist's use of reversal as an ingenious way of utilizing an established image. Gilbert states that “Reversals of poses from sources in the same artist's or another's work in this period are quite often noticed in passing, though no special 27 study seems to have been made.““ It is noteworthy, for instance, that Castagno in his Bassinn scenes in Sant' Apollonia and Piero della Francesca at Arezzo and Monterechi employed cartoons in reverse.“ Gilbert believes that this method of re—using cartoons was a practical device as it saved time and energy that would otherwise be spent making a separate sketch for every last figure. Michelangelo himself used the technique in over eighty figures on the Sistine ceiling. For example, the series of Ignndi that begin near the entrance of the chapel start out as mirror images of each other. However, as they progress along the length of the ceiling, their gestures and expressions begin to digress more and more from their “mirror images.“ The symmetry between the pairs of lgnndi is not, as Gilbert explains, “mechanical.““ He states that “The figures have precisely the same layout, but they differ all over in details, to an extent increasing with the distance from the entrance end.““ Perhaps Michelangelo used a different cartoon for each form but it is more likely that he used the same cartoon twice in at least several instances, to establish the contours of the figures, and then subsequently filled in details. Gilbert favors this suggestion since, as previously stated, it would have been 28 more practical for Michelangelo to reverse cartoons in painting such images as the Ignndi, bypassing the laborious task of making a full-scale cartoon of every figure." Titian had access to drawings of Michelangelo's work on the ceiling through a number of sources in Venice, one being his friend, Sebastiano del Piombo. Sebastiano belonged to the same artistic and personal circle as Titian in Venice and thus it is likely that the two artists continued to communicate through letters when Sebastiano travelled to Rome in 1511 to paint the lunettes in Agostino Chigi's Farnesina.“ At this time artists in Rome were making drawings based on Michelangelo's works and, in 1511, these drawings began to reflect specifically the Sistine ceiling. Gilbert suggests that Sebastiano probably wrote to Titian from Rome and sent him drawings after Michelangelo, most likely including sketches of the Sistine ceiling.‘9 It can also be noted that Titian's Ferrarese patron, Alfonso d'Este, also visited Rome, and even saw the Sistine ceiling as it was in progress. He had the special privilege of going up onto the “bridge“ to see the on-going work close at hand, and he may have brought back with him copies after the just-finished as well as projected scenes and figures.50 It was at this time that Alfonso is supposed to have begged 29 Michelangelo for a sample of his work. Much later (c. 1530), Michelangelo did in fact paint a Lada_and_the_Swan for the Duke although this work was never delivered.51 In the light of these observations by Gilbert and Wilde, is it possible that Titian had not only A. Lombardo's relief, Marcantonio's engraving, Bellini's yanns_at_har Iniiatna, and some antique examples in mind, but also a figure—in-reverse derived from Michelangelo? Among the significant differences that I pointed out between Titian's ,yanns and those by Lombardo and Marcantonio is a difference in pose: Titian's,yanns_breaks away from the established nnntzannnstg stance frequently used in the Renaissance and apparent in both of Lombardo’s and Marcantonio's depictions, and in thus taking exception to that pose, she appears, rather, to follow, in reverse, the unique example of Eve in Michelangelo's Expulsion scene (Fig. 15) on the Sistine ceiling. Like Titian's Venus, Michelangelo's Eve inclines her upper body forward as she cringes away from the angel in the Garden of Eden; and again like Titian's Venus, this Eve is also portrayed in three-quarter view and looking back over her shoulder. There is also a similarity in the boxy torsos. Both the contours of Michelangelo's expelled Eve and Titian’s 30 Venus appear almost rectangular in form, in a shape to which other Renaissance female nudes will seldom, if ever, conform - least of all, the voluptuous figures by A. Lombardo and Marcantonio. I would suggest, then, that the resemblance — - in reverse -- between Michelangelo’s expelled Eve and Titian's bathing Venus is no accident. In thus adducing such a variety of possible sources for Titian's ysnns, I would nevertheless not describe this work as merely eclectic. It does not exactly copy from any one or two or three of these sources. It is an example, rather, of assimilation. Gombrich explains “assimilation“ as a term often used when talking about the Renaissance Italian style all;_antina. It refers to the artist's way of using antique visual sources in shaping his work. It does not refer to mere copying of these models but signifies a deeper understanding by the artist -- an incorporation of the content of the ancient pieces into a new, original work of art. He states: “The imitator must transform nectar into honey, as the body assimilates nourishment... Assimilation demands a degree of generalization. The artist must learn how to create a figure that embodies his idea of the classical style.“52 I suggest that Titian “assimilated“ elements also from contemporary masters. The position of 31 the arms and hands of his yanns appears to be a combination of the gestures of Lombardo's yanns and Bellini's Lady, yet the shape and inclination of the torso of Titian's figure may well refer to Michelangelo's Eve. One does not see an exact replica of any of these figures but rather a profound understanding of the grace achieved in the gestures of Lombardo and Bellini's figures, and in the power of Eve's body reflected in its solid weighted form as her torso and legs move together in one direction. “Assimilation“ is closely connected in meaning to “imitation,“ which is another term often used in art historical discussions of the style ali;_antisa and which seems to be of particular relevance to this analysis of Titian's yanns_Anadygmans. John Shearman describes three methods of imitation, two of which seem to be closely connected to Titian's approach in painting the ysnns. First, an artist might make visual references in his painting to an earlier source to encourage the viewers' comparison between two works of art. This manner of imitation functioned to deepen the meaning of a work of art by allusion. Its effectiveness relied on the audience's knowledge of the quoted source. Parmigianino, for example, based his Madnnna_nf_tha_Lnng_Nssk in part on Michelangelo's 32 Eiana. This comparison is essential to the power and meaning of Parmigianino's painting as the link foretells the death of Christ. The effectiveness of such a comparison relied on the viewer's ability to remember the Biana.53 .One might recognize a similar sort of imitation at play in Titian's yanns if one relates it, as I would, to Michelangelo's Eve on the Sistine ceiling. Any figure of Eve is likely to evoke Venus - as well-known examples attest (by Masaccio, Ghiberti, J. della Quercia, and Durer). Titian’s painting has a particular poignancy in that it appears to draw this conventional allusion in reverse: this is not, as is usual, Eve-making-reference-to—Venus, but, rather, uniquely, Venus-making-reference-to—Eve - and, at that, the celestial Venus (she who was born miraculously of the sea) to the fallen Eve (she who was expelled from Paradise. The effectiveness of the “imitation“ presented here would depend, of course, on the knowledgeability of a highly select audience, which might see a recollection of Eve on the Sistine ceiling as they viewed and contemplated the W. Shearman describes another method of imitation as “imitation through emulation,“ where a work alludes not only to a previous source but to one that the source in turn had 33 imitated - an imitation of an imitation of an imitation. The painting or sculpture thus assumes a place in a line of works executed by established artists and, by so doing, declares its “lineage.“ To a certain degree, this younger artist rivals or “emulates“ the work of his predecessors, thus asserting his abilities as a painter and his place among other renowned masters.“ I might then describe Titian's yanns_Anadynmana,as “emulating“ Lombardo's relief and Marcantonio's print, which in turn were possibly based on a common ancient source. Such methods of imitation were commonly practiced du ring the Renaissance by artists employed at courts. By quoting elements of paintings or sculptures that were already in a patron's collection, the artist could make allusions in his work that were accessible to his immediate constituency. The artist could work in this manner in part out of self—interest, aiming to please his patrons and others of the court and to assert his place among the respected and established masters in that environment.55 Titian is known to have used imitation extensively in a number of his works such as the Banghns_and_Ariadns, which Shearman describes as perhaps the “most deeply and broadly allusive of Titian's secular paintings.-n This painting 34 not only offers visual references to works of antiquity and of Michelangelo, Raphael, Giovanni Bellini, and Alfonso d'Este's court painter Dosso, but Shearman also suggests possible connections to written descriptions of the subject by Philostratus, Pliny the Elder, Angelo Poliziano, Catullus and Ovid. Alfonso d'Este, who commissioned the Banshns_and Ariadna, deeply admired all of these artists and owned works by many of them. He also owned copies of many of the ancient and contemporary texts, which he kept in his extensive library. It is of no surprise that Titian was careful to incorporate such references into this work for the Duke. Shearman explains: Titian and Ariosto both assert their place in a great tradition. This intention, if we are right, most probably responds competitively -- Titian never responded in any other way -- to the expected setting of his work in the context of masterpieces by his former teacher Bellini, by Raphael, by the Ferrarese court painter Dosso, and probably by Michelangelo.57 As we have seen, the yanns_Anadydmana contains numerous visual references. As previously stated, Titian assimilated what perhaps were in his eyes the most graceful, natural elements from former renderings of Venus into his own depiction of the goddess. Perhaps Titian's work displays an attempt to paint the most “perfect“ of all pictures, 35 emulating works of renowned masters in an attempt to create an absolute image of idealized, celestial beauty. Titian probably created this work with a specific patron and context in mind, “a private patron with literary tastes““, as Tressider says -- certainly one from the upper echelons of society. He would have “imitated“ visual and literary sources to which this audience had access -- they would probably have known of Lombardo's relief, Marcantonio's print, the work of Giovanni Bellini and Michelangelo, and, as will be demonstrated in Section IV, they were probably knowledgeable of classical literature. Such an audience can be presumed to have been familiar with a well known story told in Antiquity, and again in the Renaissance, of Zeuxis and the Maidens of Croton, a story which provides an analogy to the making of Titian's,yanns Anadydmans. In the tale, the ancient Greek painter Zeuxis, unable to find any woman beautiful enough to use as his model in painting Helen of Troy, resorted to combining the best qualities of five different models. This legend, first taken up by Cicero and Pliny the Elder grew in popularity in the Renaissance and was frequently referred to by artists and writers.59 Palma Vecchio is thought to have selected the most beautiful features from a group of women for his 36 Dresden painting, Ihraa_fiisnans. Writers such as Giangiorgio Trissino and Federigo Luigini quoted this story in their work. Luigini created word-portraits of ideal figures, not of real individuals. He combined characteristics of fictitious and historical figures to create idealized depictions of beautiful women. Mary Rogers suggests that such treatises were created for the pleasures of men to read together at social gatherings. She adds: “The art patronage equivalent to this would be an idealized nude ordered by a male patron, which might be presented as a contemporary woman, usually a courtesan, or a mythological figure, or an ambiguous blend of the two.“60 This point is reinforced by the fact that the Zeuxian approach is used in other genres of Renaissance depictions of women -- specifically in female portraiture and in what Anne Junkerman defines as the sensuous half—length image.61 These visual and literary images of women express, in any case, an overriding concern for female beauty. But why, then, this concern in the Renaissance? In search for an answer to this question, it is important to look at the social and cultural context of these paintings for, as Margaret Miles explains, “no pictorial subject is more determined by a complex web of cultural interests than 37 visual narrations of the female body.““ What interests, then, anxieties, and needs of the artist, patron, and viewer were reflected in these images of female beauty? Through an analysis of the female portrait and the sensuous half-length image with these questions in mind, the significance of Titian's yanns as a Renaissance depiction of a beautiful, idealized woman should become better understood. III. Titian's Ianns_3nadydnsns: Connection: with Female Portraiture and the Half-Length Sensuous Image The method of “assimilating“ various sources into a new and improved work comes into play in female portraiture in Renaissance Italy, in which the primary focus was on beauty. AS Elizabeth Cropper has shown in her article, “The Beauty of WOmen: Problems in the Rhetoric of Renaissance Portraits,“ artists attempted to create the most idealized, flattering depiction possible of a sitter while maintaining a recognizable likeness to her. Isabella d'Este, for example, is known to have commissioned a number of portraits of herself, and the humanist, Trissino, in his Dialngns, created another sort of portrait, a word-portrait (c. 1513), of her, in which he tried to resolve issues of idealized beauty with actual features of the Duchess. Junkerman summarizes: In the first part of the dialogue the physical attributes of the woman are described; the method is that of Zeuxis, from the enormously popular ancient 38 39 story of the portrait of Helen recounted by Pliny and Cicero. The interlocutor descriptively gathers five women, all known to his listeners, for the purpose of creating a portrait of his as yet unnamed beauty. From these five women he selects the best features, coming in Zeuxian fashion, the hair of one with the eyes of another. In this way he achieves -- certainly in a Florentine rather than a Venetian mode -- a sketch, a ,disagnd, and then, using Petrarch's influential catalogue of the attributes of Laura, he adds the colors. He then provides details of costume and setting. The finished portrait depicts an ideal -- but Bembo, who has been listening to the speaker create this verbal collage, suddenly recognizes the described woman and identifies her as Isabelle d'Este.63 It is important to see that methods of female portraiture in the Renaissance involved a different set of criteria that applied to male portraits. Where men almost always were realistically portrayed, women were idealized, with often (as we have seen in the case of Isabella d'Este) the “portraits“ holding little resemblance to the real people. The beautiful woman provided a basis from which artists could address more general problems of depicting beauty in painting.“ This value placed on the representation of female beauty is clearly illustrated in Castiglione's Ihs_Bnnk_d£_Lha_CanLisr where one story tells of Alexander the Great who commissioned his court painter Apelles to create a portrait of the emperor's favorite mistress, Campaspe. In Alexander's eyes, the final image 40 was so beautiful that he offered Campaspe to Apelles in return for the painting. Alexander believed that Apelles' image more closely matched concepts of ideal beauty than did the real person. “Alexander decided to give his mistress to the painter because the love inspired by beauty gives greater pleasure to the one who discerns it best.““5.Apelles was able to capture true beauty in his work, beauty that surpassed the image Alexander held in his heart of Campaspe herself. The idea of being able to fully capture such beauty in painting was widely disputed among Renaissance artists and writers. Some argued that it was impossible to create a perfect image, as a woman's beauty included those inner parts of herself that could only be revealed over time. The representation of intrinsic beauty was simply beyond the painter's reach.“ It has also been suggested that the representation of female beauty was understood in the Renaissance as a metaphor for painting itself. By attempting to portray a most beautiful idealized depiction of a woman, the artist aimed to display his abilities to convey beauty and truth on the canvas. “...The portrait of a beautiful woman,“ Cropper explains, “belongs to a distinct discourse from 41 which the woman herself is necessarily absent. In portraying his mistress, it is the art of painting that the painter desires to possess, even as the poet embraces his own laurels.““ Anne Junkerman believes that “the beautiful woman was a cool abstraction that, in Venice at least, constituted a social role....“68 WOmen in Venice -- more perhaps than in other cities in Italy -- were viewed primarily for their physical appearance; “At least on a public level the relationship between patrician women and men in Venice was constituted by a relationship between image and viewer."9 Cultural and social circumstances of Venice, a city in which Titian lived and worked for his entire career, surely helped to shape the artist's and the patron's attitudes towards women. One finds varying interpretations of the specific conditions of the Venetian WOman, although it is a commonplace that she held a marginal position in society outside of the male-dominated political and economic arena. The world of the proper upper-class Venetian woman -— the Patrician WOman -- was closely circumscribed, her main function being the maintenance of her family and home. When she was invited to participate in social events, her role 42 was primarily ornamental. As it was considered inappropriate to engage in public discourse, a Venetian patrician woman was recognized and admired at such events foremost on the merits of her appearance, on her physical beauty. Junkerman states, “The presence of women adorned an occasion and -- calculated in simple numbers -- served as an index of the expense and lavishness of an event.“70 The early historian Charles Yriarte believed that it is hard to find any accomplished women in sixteenth-century Venice, and he offered a rather pessimistic view of their sheltered existence outside of the public sphere -- where silence and virtue were their most important qualities.71 But modern historians such as James David, Patricia Labalme, and Stanley Chojnacki argue that, although women maintained a role on the periphery of the public circle and were excluded from governmental and economic affairs, they, particularly in the 1500s, assumed, a central place in the domestic sphere, specifically in family strategies. In this manner Venetian women experienced an ever growing and more powerful presence in society.72 They achieved this because of the increasing importance of the dowry.73 Marriage among the patriciate in sixteenth—century Italy almost always involved a contract between the two 43 families. By providing a daughter with a good dowry, a family enabled her to marry well and to maintain the family's status. One third of the dowry was usually offered to her husband to invest as he wished. Yet, at least in Venice, the patrician wife was usually able to control the rest. With this money a wife could do as she wished, designating it for various children or investing some in the dowries for her daughters. There are documented cases in which mothers provided a sum of money for their daughters to use if they decided not to marry." Chojnacki and Labalme argue that, with the increase in the value of a dowry, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, Venetian Patrician woman achieved increasing autonomy and power in the family structure."5 Furthermore, there are records of Venetian women's participation in society. To begin, a young woman's wedding was considered a rite of passage from the private protected world of her childhood to a more social existence, as Chojnacki describes of “society and pleasures.“76 There are also numerous documented instances where the patrician woman participated in social gatherings. For example, in a gathering in a private home that accompanied the coronation of the Dogaressa Zilia Dandolo, the late sixteenth-century 44 commentator Sansovino describes young women dancing with each other until dawn for at least two nights in succession. He speaks of many of such festivities and also of those in which men and women danced together.77 Sanudo says that the women's behavior at such events was very different from that of the patrician sheltered woman isolated in the confines of her home." Along with the dowry increase developed a growing emphasis on fashion which, by the end of the fifteenth century had reached a maximum in lavishness.79 Female fashion was a highly debated and controversial topic in sixteenth-century Venice. Many contemporaries criticized such lavish expenditures on the outfitting of women, arguing that is was often at the cost of husbands and families. Historians suggest that patrician woman used fashion as a way to assert herself in a male-dominated culture who excluded her from all public affairs, civil, commercial, and intellectual. Thus, she asserted herself with the only means available to her -- her appearance. WOmen’s appearances -- their beauty -- became, along with their control over a portion of their dowries, a source of their power."0 As Venetian women began to claim their power through 45 this visual expression, the government felt the effects of these practices. Junkerman states, The government was watchful to keep this role within the boundaries of “feminine“ behavior. In particular it reacted against any threat of encroachment on male prerogatives. At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Venetian women did seem to be acting with a new and potentially threatening boldness.81 The government reacted to this new found “boldness“ by placing restrictions on the things women could wear. For example, new sumptuary laws were passed in the early sixteenth century, in part, placing limitations on the expenditures for young women's weddings. Young brides were not allowed to wear gold on their gowns for fear that it would imply too much lavishness and self-indulgence. Men attached moral issues to this frivolous behavior arguing that such self-enhancement and self-interest was morally corrupt. In sum, women used their economic independence not always for the sake of their husbands but in their own interests.82 Chojnacki and Labalme propose that the development of increased pictorial sensuality in the 1500s, seen in Titian's work and in many of his contemporaries, is a product of a developing consciousness of patrician women in their society, which was in turn reinforced by their 46 husbands. With the inflation of the dowry, men gained new respect for their wives. This was partly out of their own economic interests, and also out of a new appreciation for women's individuality as they began to express themselves more aggressively. Therefore, perhaps the increased sensuality in painting is calling attention to those women who were more free to express themselves visually and participate socially and also, at the same time, is a response of men to this enhanced female presence.“3 This interpretation also allows a possible context for the yanns_Anadynmana. This is a personage totally at ease with herself and her surroundings, and commanding in appearance. The goddess breaks out of any established pose and moves with apparent ease and confidence. For the first time in Renaissance art, one sees a nude figure of only three-quarter length, which in a way only enhances her presence, as she appears closer-up to the viewer than would a full-length figure. Junkerman also recognizes increased pictorial sensuality in Venetian painting during the first part of sixteenth century, and raises some important questions concerning the social conditions that may have supported this new emphasis. In contrast to Chojnacki and Labalme, 47 she believes that we simply do not have enough evidence to suggest that Venetian patrician women were actually gaining more autonomy and power in their families as a result of increases in their dowries. Did the dowry inflation instead work only to reaffirm the importance of paternal lineage and the patriarchal system? A marriage agreement was decided and carried out by the men of a woman's natal and conjugal families and thus operated in their interests. These women's circumstances were almost always decided for them. To what extent, then, would women have played a determining role in such alliances? “Surely the women could contribute significantly to inter-family harmony, but one suspects that male expectations of such solidarity already existed on a firm footing, supported by a strong sense of mutual obligations and a keen awareness of extended relationships within various clans.““ Where Chojnacki suggests that a woman had some control over her dowry, and thus perhaps used it as “psychological leverage“ in her family, Junkerman also argues that in many cases it is “hard to gauge“” to what extent a woman actually had control over this inheritance and to what degree she accepted her position of subjugation and allowed her husband to invest the sum as he saw fit. 48 Along with Chojnacki and Labalme, Junkerman recognizes the lavish, splendid presence of patrician women in venice in the sixteenth century and its possible connection to an increased emphasis on female beauty and sensuality in painting. However, she identifies another phenomenon that was specific to Venice in the sixteenth century and that possibly had an effect on the portrayal of woman by artists and writers: the rise of the courtesan. The rise of this new class of women resulted from the “restructuring of styles of prostitution in Venice.“86 Junkerman suggests that the increasing cultivation of Renaissance society brought about the need for a new type of woman in Venice who could provide not only sexual favors but interesting discourse. The courtesan filled this role. They were known to have participated fully in salon life, perhaps singing or playing music for a male audience or publicly taking part in conversations." They held a place in society distinct from the patrician lady, in a sense, acting as her antithesis. It is interesting that the courtesan but not the patrician lady was recognized and documented for her achievements in the public sphere. Molmenti acknowledged that the courtesan appeared more prominently than the “many 49 virtuous ladies who passed their days in the honorable repose of the domestic circle.“" One cannot help but recognize the paradox, between what was considered the immoral acts of courtesan and a recognition of her public accomplishments."9 She committed “unchaste“ acts by engaging in public discourse, participating in activities of the salon and maintaining a strong public presence yet, at the same time, was recognized for her admirable achievements as a singer, dancer, or musician. Junkerman suggests that the rise of the courtesan in Venice “resulted from the frustrations of talented women who accepted the new lifestyle as the only means to self- expression;“9° yet it is also important to realize that the social position of such women was never really chosen since most were born into this life. If a woman was not born into nobility, this option provided one of the few ways that she could make a living and lead a good life, at least for awhile. Since beauty, youth, and desirability were directly linked to the success of these women, by their late thirties they usually lost many of their clients and found it difficult to make a living. The famous courtesan-poet, Veronica Franco, born to a mother who was an impoverished courtesan, had little choice but to enter this life herself. 50 She was forced to support her mother with her own income, and then by her mid-forties, found herself poverty- stricken.“1 Perhaps, then, increased sensuality in paintings of women also had much to do with the phenomenon of the courtesan in Venice. These talented women achieved a public recognition in an otherwise male-dominated sphere.“2 In return, Venetian men turned to, among other things, visual representations such as, perhaps, the ysnns under discussion. This argument is well defined by Margaret Miles. She states that one must recognize that paintings, for the most part, were painted and bought by men and thus must reflect, to a certain degree, their interests and needs. Further, she says that “patriarchal cultures, in spite of their many dissimilarities, share a common need to preserve male control that is thought of simply as 'order.’ A central component of maintaining and reproducing social order is the management of women, and a powerful strategy for controlling women is their public representation.”3 If this proposition is accepted, the portrayal of female beauty in images provided a means for this culture to deal with issues of developing female power. An image of a beautiful, sensual woman (whether it was a portrait or mythological 51 representation) was possessible, manageable, and thus reassuring. Junkerman specifically relates the rise of the courtesan to the establishment of a particular type of painting in early sixteenth-century Venice: the sensuous half-length image. It assumes a place between the fully clothed portrait-figure and the full-length female nude. Junkerman defines this type by a specific set of characteristics. The female figure is always presented in close-up view. Her sensuous body fills the frame of the composition. She wears a simple white garment, loosened at the neckline to reveal, or almost reveal, one breast. The clothing is often identified as a caminia, a standard undergarment in Renaissance dress. It usually appears in disarray. The figure is often partially concealed by a robe and is portrayed in a dark undefined setting. This dark, ambiguous background has the effect of projecting the half- length forward onto the picture plane, challenging the space between image and viewer. The sensuous half-length is not intended for public spectacle but for private view as she is rendered in an intimate and suggestive state of dishahilis. She appears neither fully dressed nor nude. Her hair is loosened but not completely unbound. She presents the 52 viewer with a set of paradoxes. Her gaze is at the same time seductive and distant. Her sensuality is real and enticing yet at the same time the figure maintains space from the viewer by her ambiguous and idealized presence. She is not a portrait of any specific person, but rather an idealized depiction of female beauty." This type shares important characteristics with Titian's rendering of a close-up, beautiful female nude that are worth consideration here. Junkerman argues that Titian's Elana (1520-22), (Fig.18) is one of the most articulate examples of the sensuous half-length genre. Again, one sees a close—up and intimate portrayal of a female form. Her white namisia stands out from the dark, ambiguous background, drawing focus to its many loose folds and neckline. The diagonal established in the neckline is, perhaps, the compositional focus of the painting. It extends to the line of Flora's neck, the hair upon her shoulder, and the fingers that hold her robe and gamisia, as Junkerman suggests, “gently impel the viewer's attention to the partly visible breast.“95 The painting resonates with paradox. The half-length is revealed, yet simultaneously covered by the action of her left hand. Flora's gaze is suggestive rather than direct. 53 She both challenges the viewer's space in her close-up presentation while maintaining a distance in her anonymous and classicizing form. Junkerman argues that the half-length sensuous image, in all of its paradoxes, is closely related to the rise of the courtesan. As the courtesan does not fit into an established category of women in sixteenth—century Venice she straddles social lines so the sensuous half-length image fits into no other category of Renaissance painting that depicts women -- she assumes a place of her own between the formal portrait and the full-length nude. She forms a third type.“ This third category of painting displays important similarities to Titian's yanns_Anadydmana, Most significantly, both compositions involve a solitary, sensuous female figure with a mythological reference, in close-up view. Both Flora and Venus fill their respective picture frames, leaving room for little else. Flora is painted from the waist up and the Venus appears three- quarter-length, the lower portion of her legs concealed beneath the waves. It is intriguing that Titian chose to portray his yanns_Anadynmana in this new way. Before this three-quarter length, close-up image, no such depiction of S4 Venus appears in the Renaissance. Bellini's Lady_aL_hez InileLLe (while not specifically a Venus Celestias) comes the closest to this type. Other renderings appear either full length and standing, such as Botticelli’s yenns_Bising fixem_nhe_fiea (Fig. 19) and Raphael's nudes (Figs. 20, 21); or full-length and reclining seen in Giorgione's Dresden Menus and practically all other depictions of the theme by Titian. The choice to depict a female nude in such a partial view is indeed unique. These close-up, partial, and highly sensual depictions of a solitary woman indicate a feeling of privacy and intimacy between image and viewer that the full-length nudes cannot offer. The full-length nudes maintain a physical distance between themselves and their audience, by appearing further away from the viewer. There is less space between either yenns_anadyemene by Titian or his Elena and their viewers. Furthermore, there are no distractions from the intensity of this direct relationship. The audience of either picture focuses solely on the women's sensuous appearance. Privately located, such images would have belonged in art collections -- stored in closets and taken out for display —- or would have contributed to decorations for 55 bedrooms.97 It is the intimate, private qualities of Titian'sjyenus_Anadyemene, in her close-up, nude, and solitary depiction that will remind one most of his Elena. Both pictures seem intended for a limited audience -— perhaps only one or two people at a time. Significant differences between the Menus_Anadyemene and Elena are also worth consideration, however. Where in the Venus_Anadyemene one sees a bit of sea behind the figure, the background of Flora offers nothing but the darkness that typically sets off figures of her kind. In the Menus, then, the viewer sees a figure in a definite setting. The figure’s identity is confirmed by this indication of environment and particularly by the shell that floats beside her in the waves. There is no question but that this is Venus Rising from the Sea. The identity of the figure in the half-length image is, by comparison, ambiguous. Where historians have suggested she is Flora (because of the flowers she holds)”, there is really nothing in the composition that specifically confirms this. She appears mysteriously and without attribute in front of an undefined background without attribute. I might further add that the state of Flora's dishabille is itself much less defined than the clear state of nudity of Titian's Venus. 56 Flora's eamieia falls off her shoulder nearly revealing one breast. She is somewhere on the borderline between nude and clothed. On the other hand, one sees no ambiguity or paradox in Titian's Goddess of Love. Her nudity is proclaimed. It is forthrightly sensuous. Although it has some affinity to the “courtesan“ image, this painting belongs apparently in another genre. To sum up: the Menus_Anadyemene seems to assume a place henueen the half-length sensuous image and the full length nude. By comparison with the half-length figure, she does not appear as close to the viewer, nor as cropped; by comparison with the full-length figure (either standing or reclining) she does not appear as removed from the viewer. She maintains a sense of intimacy and privacy, and yet a lso, at the same time, some distance from whomever may look at the picture. This distance is confirmed, moreover, by her clear, straightforward identity as a goddess: indeed the Celestial Venus, the one born miraculously of the sea. Where the more sensuous half-length depiction lends a nessibiliny,of access for the viewer, the venus suggests no such potential. She maintains a place of her own. It is as if, in rendering this female nude, Titian has created a fourth genre of image depicting a woman -- neither a full- 57 length nude, nor a portrait, nor a sensuous half—length. One is left with questions about the specific social attitudes that helped to shape such an image as Titian's Menus_Anadyemene. She is indeed sensuous, beautiful, and bold, and, at the same time, idealized, silent, and possessible. Perhaps her qualities can be attributed in part to a reaction of the artist and, or, patron to the increased autonomy of patrician women (as suggested by Chojnacki and Labalme), or to women's developing public expression through fashion, or, finally, to the rise of the courtesan. But the uniqueness of this painting as a type of image makes it less amenable to such explanations than either the full—length nudes or the sensuous half—lengths would appear to be. It is clear that Titian had a keen understanding of those other types of images depicting women. He is known to have painted prolifically in those other genres. Why might he, then, have painted his Menus Anadyemene in three-quarter length view, and thus situated it outside of the established genres, making it one-of—a- kind? The question of the three-quarter length view of the Venus_Anadyemene has been addressed by a number of historians, warren Tressider, Harold Wethey, Edmund Pillsbury, Allessandro Ballarin among others."9 As I 58 suggested earlier in this essay, they have consistently looked for answers in classical sources. At this point it seems appropriate to reexamine Titian's enthusiasm for ancient objects and texts. IV. The Apelles Connection and Other Antique Sources Earlier in this thesis, possible antique sources were mentioned for Titian's Menus_Anadyemene, including an ancient gem in the Duke Alfonso d'Este's collection at Ferrara. It has been suggested that Lombardo and Marcantonio both drew from this classical model in rendering their versions of the yenus_Anadyemene. It is likely that Titian also knew of this ancient source. As previously stated, Titian was also exposed to ancient statuary from his early years in Gentile Bellini's studio and then in the workshop of Giovanni Bellini, including, in Gentile's possession, an ancient marble figure of a Menus_Anadyemene. By the time he worked on the yenus Titian had been introduced to ancient texts that were being printed in his time in Italian translation mostly in Venice, making them ever more accessible. Titian worked for patrons who were educated and well read in the classics. ”0 It is most likely that, through any of these patrons, Titian knew the HiaLQIiE_NaLnIaliS by Pliny the Elder. 59 60 This thirty-six volume work was originally written in the first century A.D. As early as 1476 an Italian translation of this work was published in Venice, to be followed by other printings and editions.101 By the late 15th century most any well-educated Italian could have read Pliny's account of the art of classical antiquity.102 Since a great deal of classical sculpture and painting did not survive to the Renaissance, these chapters were extremely important in preserving the memory of these masterpieces.103 Two passages from Pliny's volumes seem particularly relevant to the Menus_Anadyemene. In his section on marble sculpture Pliny describes two statues of Venus by Praxiteles."“ This account was well known in the Renaissance to humanists and presumably to artists as well. Pliny tells the often-cited story about the two different Venuses by Praxiteles: He had offered two statues of Aphrodite for sale at the same time, the second being a draped figure, which for that reason was preferred by the people of Kos with whom lay the first choice; the price of the two figures was the same, but they flattered themselves they were giving proof of a severe modesty. The rejected statue which was bought by the people of Knidos, enjoys an immeasurably greater reputation. King Nikomedes subsequently wished to buy it from them, offering to discharge the whole of their public debt, which was enormous.... They showed their wisdom, for by this statue Praxiteles made Knidos illustrious. It stands in a small shrine, open all around so that the statue, 61 which was made, as is believed, under the direct inspiration of the goddess, can be seen from every side....105 The contrast between the two Venuses was taken up, in turn, in a Neoplatonic sense by Marcilio Ficino in the second half of the fifteenth century. As the founder and leader of the Platonic Academy in Florence, under the protection of Cosimo de Medici, Ficino translated Plato, Plotinus, and other ancient philosophers into Latin, wrote commentaries on these writings, and thus made them accessible to the educated public.““ 'Ficino's commentary on Plato's Symnesiumywas published for the first time in Italy in 1469. It inspired many artists and poets such as Michelangelo and Pietro Bembo.“" The Idea of Love, Panofsky explains, is “the very axis of Ficino’s philosophy.“ It is the force which causes goodness and beauty and is symbolized by two forms -- the Twin Venuses. The “venus Celestias“ the daughter of Uranus, resides in the highest supercelestial zone of the universe. She embodies “Caritas,“ the link between the human mind and God. This Venus owns no earthly belongings as she is connected only to divine realms. She is often depicted nude. The “Venus Naturalis“ maintains a place below the “Venus Celestias“ in Ficino's hierarchical 62 system of the universe and is therefore less perfect. She remains closer to man's position in the universe and to natural things and makes their beauty accessible to human perception and imagination. She links the supercelestial realms with earth. Ficino believes in the goodness of each goddess as they express two different forms of love —- divine and human, and a human being can find each within his own soul.“” It has been argued that Titian's Saened_and Enefiane_Leye (Fig. 2) illustrates the difference between these two symbols. The woman on the left depicts “Venus Naturalis.“ She is adorned with material things -- a wedding gown and gloves -— that associate her with the world, where the woman to her right is nude. This “Venus Celestias“ holds a vase with the Flame of Heaven in her left hand and raises it towards the sky. The left half of the landscape is also different from the right half. One sees a contemporary setting behind the “Venus Naturalis“ with a castle and various figures and animals. The scene on the right resembles the idealized landscape of Giorgione in his Sleepine_yenus. A church appears underneath a Giorgionesque sky, further evoking the divine realm. Wethey states in his discussion on the Saened_and_Enefane_Leye, that “no one doubts that the nude with the flaming lamp is Venus, 63 generally thought to be the 'Celestial Venus' of Marsilio Ficino.“109 The venus appears again, nude. In Titian's yenus_Anadyemene the very subject of the picture, the Birth of Venus indicates the goddess in her celestial aspect. Panofsky further supports the suggestion that Titian was exposed to the ideas of Ficino through his circle of friends and patrons: “The Renaissance was well acquainted with the fact that Praxiteles had made two famous statues of Venus, one draped, the other nude...friends of Isabella d'Este were great authorities on “Platonic Love'.“no Isabella d'Este was the sister of Alfonso d'Este, a great patron of Titian. Thus Titian was presumably well aware of Neoplatonic ideas at the time he painted.the genus_Anadyemene; by this time both Isabella and Alfonso had become clients of his. The second passage of Pliny's History worth considering is from his account of painting in ancient times. In this section he describes the Aehnedine_Eisine_fnem_nhe_Sea by the renowned classical painter, Apelles. Apelles of Kos was considered the best of the classical painters, the one who came the closest to rendering truth and perfection in his works.111 Thus it would not be surprising if Titian took much interest in the artist's painting of Aphrodite and recalled it in his own rendering of Venus. Pliny states: 64 His [Apelles'] Aphrodite rising from the sea was dedicated by the god Augustus in the temple of his father Caesar....[she was], like other works of the kind, at once eclipsed yet rendered famous by the Greek epigrams written in her praise. When the lower portion was damaged no one could be found to restore it, and thus the very injury redounded to the glory of the artist.112 Here, as others have pointed out, may lie the explanation of Titian's odd choice of a three-quarter length view. A number of historians have suggested that in rendering his own Venus, Titian felt that even he could not replace the section of Apelles' painting that had been destroyed.113 Tressider suggests another possible source for the ,yenus that matches her three-quarter length view. He relates the painting to a group of figures in Medieval manuscripts.n‘ Tressider describes these figures as nude and bathing in the sea. Some appear half-length and wringing water from their hair. Others appear in three- quarter length view. I would add to Tressider's findings a group of mosaics and reliefs from the first century B.C. that again depict Venus essentially in this way.115 Of particular interest is the subject matter of a Pompeiian mosaic in which Venus appears to be swimming in waves (Fig. 22). She floats on her shell and is assisted by two winged putti. Both are waist deep in water. The 6S viewer sees only three-quarters of the goddess's body. The lower portion of her legs is immersed in the waves. Other nudes appear in the mosaic, bathing themselves in the sea. For example, to Venus's left, a nude appears waist deep in the waves while Venus dries herself with a towel. Although this particular mosaic was not accessible to Titian (Pompeii was uncovered for the first time in the eighteenth-century) one cannot help wonder, T _"‘ __jl given this distinct similarity, if Titian had access to similar Roman depictions from other places. There was, for example, a fascinating ancient relief from a portal to a bath at Ephesus, where a nude Venus rises from the sea, three-quarters of her body appearing above the waves (Fig. 23). The Ephesian example would presumably not have been known to Titian either, but it may well be of a rather common type that somehow found its way to his attention. A partial view of Venus is also portrayed in a Coptic relief from Ahnas, Cairo (Fig. 24).116 Venus is identified in this version by the shell behind her. Stylized waves conceal the lower portion of her legs. It seems, then, that the three-quarter length view of Venus 66 in Titian's painting is not without precedent among surviving visual examples, and it is possible that some such examples were available for the artist to view first hand. Perhaps it was not only Pliny's description of Apelles Menus_Anadyemene that inspired Titian to create his subject in three—quarter length view. Perhaps he also knew of an ancient Roman example of the type seen in the Pompeiian mosaic and used it, as well, along with the other possible sources for the figure that I have discussed above.117 One must also remember that Roman sculptures, too, provided Titian with visual sources for his painting and thus perhaps for the Menus_Anadyemene. Wethey describes a Roman statue of a goddess wringing and arranging her hair nonchalantly ( Figs. 25, 26). He states that the “three-quarter length and the inclined body of Titian's Venus imply inspiration from such figures."118 It was not uncommon to see sculptures that consisted of a torso with its legs or arms missing. Perhaps the “Praxitilean” model owned by Gentile Bellini would have been one of these. Titian was perhaps influenced by the broken appearance or “three-quarter length“ views of such 67 statues. Thus, one might conclude that in the painting of his ,yenus Titian was inspired both by visual and literary sources from classical antiquity. The apparent connection with Pliny's account of Apelles painting of the same subject is especially convincing. Yet one is still left with the fact that although Titian’s Menus reflects qualities of both antique and contemporary models, it remains one-of-a-kind within the Italian Renaissance. V. Tha vanus Anadyomana and tha Dramatic Gloss—Up Imago The unique combination of qualities displayed in this Menus_Anadyemene leads one to look at yet another type of image. Popular in both the Italian and Northern Renaissance by the end of the fifteenth century, it is a type that Titian would have encountered in Venice. Sixten Ringbom defines this genre as the DnamaLie_£lese;fln_flalf_LeneLh .Deyetienal_lmaee.119 Pictures of this type were often called deyeeim.or.diyeniene.12° Particularly popular in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth century, they were used, along with rosaries or prayer books, to assist in private devotions. These paintings are usually small in size and usually include one or at most a few figures in the composition. They often depict a scene or moment from the Gospel narrative,“21 and yet look something like portraits, as the figures appear in one-half to three-quarter length, and thus 68 69 close up to the viewer. There is little background in these paintings. The primary focus is on the figures. The result is a direct and personal relationship with the viewer (Figs. 27, 28, 29). Titian's Tributs_Mnne¥. 1516, (Fig. 30) is one of the finest examples. This type of composition also became utilized for secular scenes by the early sixteenth century, and again with the idea of bringing the viewer close up to the subject of the picture, and inducing meditation. Titian's geneenn (Pitti Palace) is an example. WIth the popular example of the dramatic close-up on his mind, together with the well- known story of the ancient yenus whose lower portion was missing, Titian could have expected a receptive audience for his picture of Venus -- in three-quarter length -- rising from the sea. VI. In Search for a Specific Contaxt for tha vanus Anadyomana As previously stated, no document has been found directly referring to the commission of Titian's Menus Anadyemene. Perhaps no document ever existed. Given the fairly small size of the work, perhaps a verbal agreement between artist and patron might have sufficed. “Ready-made“ art seems to have been very popular in both the Italian and Northern Renaissance. Peter Burke points out the importance of the art market in the sixteenth century. It is known for example that Isabella d’Este wished to buy a number of works of art second-hand. In 1510 she specifically wrote to a Venetian merchant: We are informed that among the stuff and effects of the painter Zorgo of Castelfranco there exists a picture of a night [una note], very beautiful and singular; if so it might be, we desire to possess it and we therefore ask you, in company with Lorenzo da Pavia and any other who has judgement and understanding, to see whether it is a really fine thing and if you find it such, to go to work...to obtain this picture for me, settling the price and giving me notice of it.“122 70 71 Ottaviano de Medici is also known to have bought two paintings by Andrea del Sarto which had been originally commissioned by someone else.123 Charles Hope argues that such interchanges between patron and artist, or buyer and seller as it were, contributed to a new attitude of acquiring works of art in the sixteenth century. In many cases, a value of a work depended not so much on its specific content but primarily on the reputation of the artist. A patron such as Isabella d'Este or her brother, Alfonso, would have been primarily concerned with obtaining works by great masters and not so much with exact content. Hope explains: Something of this attitude is reflected in Alfonso's original scheme for his eamenine, in which he planned to include side by side, paintings by the foremost representations of the different Italian Schools of Art -- Bellini from Venice, Fra Bartolommeo from Florence and Raphael from Rome. In the event, he was prepared to accept changes in the actual choice of subjects without apparent demur.u‘ Therefore, an established artist often was given freedom to create works that were based primarily on his own artistic inclinations, following, perhaps, loose guidelines on subject matter. It is known from documents that Titian worked in this manner with at least some of his patrons, 72 including Alfonso d'Este. In the early 1520s he specifically wrote to the Duke: [I am] convinced that the greatness of art amongst the ancients was due to the assistance they received from great princes content to leave to the painter the credit and renown derived from their ingenuity in commissioning pictures...I shall, after all, have done no more than give shape to that which received its spirit -- the most essential part, from your excellency.125 Burke argues that the change in balance between patron and artist was part of a growing new material culture in Renaissance Italy. He terms the new culture as one of “conspicuous consumption“ in which “nobles built to sustain the honor of the house and to make their rival envious. The house (especially its facade and its contents formed part of a family's 'front,’ the setting and the stage props for the long-playing drama in which their status was displayed.“126 Sixteenth-century noble families collected material objects: antiques, furniture, bronzes, coins, and paintings, of high value as a way of displaying their wealth and prestige. Such collections of a high class patron were usually concentrated in a few rooms of a palace. Huse explains: They [palaces] were not museums in the modern sense but contained far more paintings, figures, utensils, and ornaments than normally made up the furnishings of an 73 aristocratic house. The essential parts of a collection were concentrated in relatively few rooms of a palace, but these rooms were also lived in, and important items of the collection could be found in rooms used almost exclusively by the master of the house, such as the bedrooms.“127 Having valuable objects in one's possessions again provided a way of affirming the owner's social status. It is impossible to say with exact certainty whether Titian's yenus_Anadyemene,was part of such a collection. It is documented for the first time in an inventory in the late seventeenth century of the collection of Queen Christina of Sweden . 13“ Tressider again seems to come the closest to suggesting a context for Titian's painting, stating that it was probably commissioned by an educated patron with “literary taste,“13° yet, he takes this discussion no further. Charles Hope, however, helps in narrowing down the possibilities. He observes that few of Titian's patrons took great interest in mythological subject matters and, furthermore, in the female nude: ... only two of the artist's major patrons, Alfonso d'Este and Philip II showed a marked enthusiasm for such paintings; and in Philip's case this was combined with an equally strong interest in religious subjects. But Federigo Gonzaga and Charles V each acquired only one work by Titian showing a female nude, and Francesco Maria della Rovere none at all.130 74 Although Federigo Gonzaga commissioned some work of Titian as early as 1523, Hope states that all early projects were either portraits or devotional images. Titian likely would not have created a mythological work for him until much later, in the 1530s. Alfonso d'Este, was the only patron of those mentioned that commissioned work from Titian during the late 1510s and early 15203, the period suggested in Section I for the Venus_Anadyemene. It was at that time that Titian worked on the three mythological paintings for the Duke's Camerino d'Alabastro; the wenshie_ef_Venus (1518- 19), the Andzinna (1523-25), and Bacchus_and_Ariadne (c.1520-23). Wethey recognizes a stylistic connection between these mythological scenes and the Venus, arguing “The mastery of form in rendering the ideal nude body [in the Venus] is that of a mature artist, who had reached the phase of the Ferrara mythological figures.“131 There were five rooms in the Camerini sopra li volti in Piazzetta dal Castello alle Camare Nove, each with elaborate gilded ceilings. The Camerino d'Alabastro was located between what has been thought to be the Duke's bedroom at the north end of the Via Coperta and the Camera del Poggiuolo. The Duke's chamber contained nine ceiling 75 paintings and a frieze of landscapes by Dosso Dossi.132 The inventory of the Camerino d'Alabastro is far from complete. The entire room was dismantled in 1598. Not one of the pictures removed shortly after by Cardinal Aldobrandini was recorded. Many of these paintings, including the three mythological scenes by Titian, were taken to Rome in the early seventeenth century. It is of interest that Queen Christina of Sweden travelled to Rome in the mid-16003133 and purchased a number of works for her collection including Titian's,Venus_And_Adenis,n‘ Perhaps it was here that she also came upon Titian's Venus Anadyemene. One cannot help but wonder why the Venus Anadyemene appears along with this other work by Titian in her inventory. Perhaps it had travelled to Rome from Ferrara in 1598. Unfortunately, there is only scattered documentation of Titian's commissions at Ferrara. Through letters of Tibaldi, we know that his first project consisted of The Henshin_ef_Venus, on which Titian worked until mid-January of 1520. The Baeehus_and_Aniadne was sent to Ferrara in 1523 where the artist also worked from mid-April to late June 1524 and from early December 1524 to mid-February of 1525.135 The purpose of these trips has not been documented 76 although Tebaldi records that during this time, Titian completed three projects all worth 100 ducati. Hope suggests that two of these paintings were portraits of Alfonso and the Duke's mistress, Laura de'Dianti, and perhaps that a third was a portrait of Ercole, Alfonso’s son. It is also noteworthy that the Venus, about the same size as the portrait, also could have fit into the price range mentioned by Tebaldi. Not one of the smaller pictures, nor the Bacchanal scenes appear in the Duke's Inventory. Hope further suggests that Titian possibly could have worked on Bellini's Eeasn_ef_nhe_fieds,during this time although it is more likely that this was completed on his next visit to Ferrara in 1529.136 One might easily imagine that the Duke of Ferrara desired the Venus_Anadyemene for his collection. It is a beautiful painting, depicting a female nude and a mythological subject. Again one might suggest that in such a case, the exact content of the painting would not have been of primary importance for the Duke, whose focus was likely directed towards the acquisition of another beautiful work by Titian. One remembers that Titian was given a great deal of creative freedom in working for the Duke of Ferrara. It is also possible (although given the patron—artist 77 relationship between Alfonso and Titian) not as likely, that the Duke would have purchased the work already made. But where would the Venus_Anadyemene_have been displayed at Ferrara? One might remember in the preceding discussion of the half—length sensuous female nude, that a close-up, beautiful and sensual depiction of a woman in dishahille would likely have been viewed in private quarters, and one can say the same for Titian's Venus. It may well not have appeared on a wall in the Camerino d'Alabastro, a more public and formal space. One might also remember Huse's explanation that the “Dramatic Close-up“ image, as it began to move away from only religious subjects, began to appear as part of the interior decoration of palaces, either in studies, bedrooms, or closets. Perhaps this was also the case for Titian's Venus. Perhaps, then, the Venus_Anadyemene,was commissioned for another room among the Duke's Camerini sopra de volti. Interestingly, there was a bedroom attached to the Camerino d'Alabastro that contained a bath.137 One might suggest that the Venus was painted for part of the interior decoration of this room. Gronau mentions a letter from Titian to the Duke in 1517 in which the artist states: “As for your 'Bath' your most illustrious lordship has demanded, I have not forgotten 78 it, but am working at it daily and when you wish to see it I will send it to you without delayu“t” Gronau suggests that this letter referred to the Venus_Anadyemene. Perhaps the “bath“ mentioned in the letter refers to the bath in the bedchamber mentioned above or to another private room in the Duke's palace. As a follow-up to Gronau's suggestion, I would offer one other. It is noteworthy that the dimensions of the ,Venus_Anadyemene are almost identical to those of a painting by Titian that originally was located in the room next to the Camerino d'Alabastro; his Inihune_Meney_(75 X 56 cm), one of the great masterpieces of the “Dramatic Close-up“ (Fig. 30). This painting was designed to fit the interior side of a cabinet doorut” .Although this work is actually a panel painting, it was very common in Venice and neighboring areas like Ferrara, to use canvas as a support.“0 One might see this, for example, in the nine ceiling paintings in the bed chamber of the Camerini sopra de volti. As the Venus Anadyemene is almost the same in size and shape as the Tnihute_Meney, so this mythological painting on canvas could have found its way, too, onto the back of a cabinet door -- but in a room likely still more private than the Camerino 79 d'Alabastro and most likely for the benefit of only the most privileged of viewers. VI . CONCLUSION One is left uncertain as to the exact function of Titian's Venus_Anadyemene. Evidence supports the idea that it was commissioned by Alfonso d'Este for some chamber of his home at Ferrara. It most likely would have hung in a private setting, such as a haene, and perhaps on the inner face of a cabinet door. The painting seems to typify the mature style that Titian achieved in the great mythological paintings originally placed in Alfonso's Camerino d'Alabastro. It shows full awareness of achievements of Bellini, Giorgione, and Antonio Lombardo as well as of Michelangelo in the Sistine ceiling. It also reflects the artist’s knowledge of antiquities, and his knowledge of concepts of beauty known through classical writers. This knowledge is reflected here in this one unique form, this three-quarter-length female nude seen against blue sea and sky. Through the exquisitely balanced tensions created in this form, the graceful curve of Venus's torso and head, the gesture of arms, her attentive gaze over her shoulder, told 80 81 through soft glowing Venetian eelene, Titian declares, in a most eloquent manner, his love of physical beauty. As we have seen, this preoccupation with physical beauty permeates all other types of Italian Renaissance painting depicting women, and it is taken up in the thinking of the period about, and by, women. Not just his own, personal proclivities, but the social and cultural life of the time prompted Titian into creating this exceptionally beautiful image. Perhaps such pictures as the Venus Anadyemene, together with other paintings of the period that depict the beautiful female form, reflects in part a developing consciousness and self-confidence of the patrician woman as she asserted herself more in the social sphere, and, also, men's concessions to and reinforcement of this developing power. Or, perhaps as Junkerman suggests, they signify a response by Renaissance society to anxieties over the increasing presence of women in society, in particular the courtesan. Titian's Venus_Anadyemene, shares important characteristics with the half-length type and other depictions of woman in the sixteenth century and yet, at the same time, is like none of them. As a type she is unique — - perhaps originating in a personal request from Alfonso 82 d'Este -- and the picture itself is still, of course, a product of the painter's unique genius. It is a fascinating painting that still poses unanswered questions. WIS Alessandro Ballarin, Iinian (London, 1968), 38. Kenneth Clark. W (washington DC, 1956), 127. Edmund Pillsbury, “The Rebirth of venus,“ Aunnjkama LXXXII (April 1983), 110; Marion Lawrence, “The Birth of Venus in Roman Art. “ . W W ed. Douglas Fraser. Howard Hibbard & Milton J. Lewine (London: Phaidon Press, 1967), 10. There appear to be two legends of the Venus Anadyomene. Hesiod recounts that Venus was born from the genitals of Uranos. Cronos threw the genitals of Uranos into the sea, and their foam produced the Venus Anadyomene. This Venus is of the Celestias type, and does not have a mother. “Mother“ is very close in meaning to “matier“ which signifies earthly qualities. This type of Venus has no earthly belongings, as she resides between God and the supercelestial realms of the universe.(Hesiod, Iheeen, 188, as cited by Lawrence.) Refer to Section IV of this thesis for further discussion. On the other hand, Plautus, Tibullus, and Pompeius Festus described Venus born from the shell. (Plautus, Eud., III, 3, 43; Tibullus, III, iii, 34; Festus, III, 23; all as cited by Lawrence.) One may gather that Titian depicted this version in the painting, as the shell has been included to the goddess's right in the composition. Clark, Wm. 127. Harold Wethey. W MW (London: Phaidon Press, 1975), 27; Ballarin, minian, 38; Pillsbury, “The Rebirth of Venus,“ 110. 83 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 84 warren Tressider, “The Classicism of the Early WOrks of Titian: Its Sources and Character“ volumes I and II (Ph.D. diss., University of Michigan, 1979), 271. John Shearman. WWW the_ltalian_Eenaissanee, The A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts 37 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 258. Ballarin. Titian; Clark W Earn. Erwin Panofsky. W Inonnnranhic (New York: New York University Press, 1969). 19. Charles Hope, Titian (London: Jupiter Books, 1980), 2. Panofsky. Win. 20. Ibid., 5. Ibid., 20. Ibid., 20. Tressider, “The Classicism of the Early WOrks of Titian,“ 273. Panofsky. Problamunlitian. 13 . Rona Goffen. Qieyanni_Eellini (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), 2. Ibid., 4. David Allen Brown, 'Bellini and Titian,“ Ijgjan Erjngg ef_£aintens (exhibition catalogue) (Venice: Marsilio Editori, 1990), 57. Hope. Titian. 30. Goffen. GimmLBellini. 16. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 85 Another painting of particular interest is Giovanni's Eeasn_ef_nhe_fieds (Fig. 7) which was executed in 1514 for Alfonso d'Este's Camerino d'Alabastro. It is thought that Titian, himself, finished the painting. (Hope, Titian, 54.) Here, again, attention is paid to the female nude. This is seen specifically in the lower right hand corner of the painting. A woman reclines against a tree as her gown falls away to reveal her torso. Terisio Pignatti, “Giorgione and Titian,“ minian_2;ingg ef_Eaintens (exhibition catalogue) (Venice: Marsilio Editori, 1990), 68. Giorgio Vasari . LixaLothaJnstminentJaintana. Sculntnr3_and_Architects (transl. Gaston Du C. De Vere) (London: Philip Lee warner, 1912-1915), vol Ix, 1. Giorgione's influence extends beyond these frescoes. .Ihe_Sleenine_Venus (1510-1511) (Fig. 24) is another example of Giorgione's rendering a full length nude woman in a new way. She is the first completely nude figure to be presented in a landscape. It is thought that Titian helped Giorgione in this painting, he is said to have painted the landscape part. His specific contributions are unclear as the styles of the two artists have so much in common; however it is generally believed that Titian is responsible for the drapery. (Hone. Titian. 10.) Johannes Wilde. Venetianmmhellinimitian (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989), 79. “Frescoes from the Fondaco dei Tedeschi,“ Ii;ian_Eninee ef_2aintens (exhibition catalogue) (Venice: Marsilio Editori, 1990). 135. Ibid., 138. Charles Hope, “Titian and His Patrons,“ Titian_Eninee_ Q£_2aintazs (exhibition catalogue) (Venice: Marsilio Editori, 1990), 77. Ibid., 78. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 86 Copy of label of Antonio Lombardo's,Venus_Anadyemene, Victoria and Albert Museum, London, provided by the Museum in 1992; Ovid, Ans_Amanenia, iii. 224. Tressider, “The Classicism of the Early Work,“ 90. Hope, “Titian and His Patrons,“ 80. Copy of label of Lombardo's Venus_Anadyemene, Victoria and Albert Museum, London, provided by the Museum in 1992. The placement of Titian's Bacchanal paintings in Alfonso d'Este's palace has been a controversial topic among several art historians. In his article, “The Camerino d' Alabastro. A Reconsideration of the Evidence.“ WW (symposium in the National Museum, Stockholm, 18- 19 Mars 1987), ed. G. Cavalli-Bjorkmann (Stockholm: Nationalmusei Skriftserie, 1987), Charles Hope believes that the pictures formed part of the interior decoration of the Camerino d'Alabastro, the north-east room in the Via Coperta adjacent to the Camerino di Marmo. Beverly Louise Browne generally agrees with Hope, yet Dana Goodgal believes that these paintings were located in another Camerino d'Alabastro. Edgar Wind. WWW. (Middlesex, England: Penguin Books, 1967), 264. Tressider, “The Classicism of the Early WOrks,“ 91. Ibid., 91. Ibid., 35. The original Italian version of the poem appears in Zovenzona, Qanmi, p. 109, no. 135: “In Venerum Gentilis Bellini. Qui Paphiam nudis Venerem vidisse papillis optet in antiquo marmore Praxiteles Bellini pluteum Gentilis quaerat, ubi stans, trunca licet membris, vivit imago suis.“ Erwin Panofsky. ProhlamanJntarnretatinn.13. 40. 41. 42. 43. 44. 45. 46. 47. 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 87 Creighton Gilbert, “Some Findings on Early WOrks of Titian.“ ArtJullatin LXII (March 1980), 36-72. Ibid., 37. Ibid., 45. Ernst Gombrich, Nenm_and_Eenm (London: Phaidon Press, 1966), 95, also mentions such a phenomenon in the Renaissance. Gilbert, “Some Findings,“ 38. Kenneth Clark, Eiene dallajrancesca. London. 1951. Gilbert, “Some Findings,“ 45. Ibid., 46. Ibid., 48. Ibid., 48. Documented by vasari and others. Ibid., 44. Harold Wethey, op. cit., 23. Johannes Wilde. W (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1989). Gombrich. W. 126 . Shearman, John. iny_£enneetnni, 250. Imitation could also be used to aid an artist in painting or sculpting difficult poses. Instead of attempting to pose a complicated set of actions in a studio, the artist often found it easier to copy similar groupings and movements already captured in classical models. Cf. Gombrich. W. 95 . Ibid., 246. Ibid., 246. Ibid., 252. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 88 Ibid., 258. Shearman points out elements in Titian's Baeehus_and_Aniadne that were perhaps drawn from written texts. Pliny the Elder in Eisnenia_Nanunalis (XXXV. 99) gives a brief account of a painting of Baeehus_and_Aniadne by Aristides. Descriptions are also found in Poliziano's Le_Stanze of the late 14703; Catullus, Cannina xiv. 50-75, 251-64, and Ovid's Ans_ Amatena i. 525-64. For a full discussion of the relationship of these texts to Titian's painting, see Shearman. Onl¥_Cnnnact_111. 255-256. Tressider, “Classicism in the Early Works,“ 269. Mary Rogers, “The Decorum of WOmen's Beauty: Trissino, Firenzuola, Luigini and the Representation of WOmen in Sixteenth-Century Painting,“ (Ph.D. diss., University of California at Berkeley, 1988). 50. Mary Rogers, “The Decorum of WOmen's Beauty,“ 54. Anne Christine Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna: An Interdisciplinary Study of Venetian Sensual Half- Length Images of the Early Sixteenth Century,“ (Ph.D. diss., University of California, Berkeley, 1988). 57. Margaret Miles, “The Virgin' 3 One Bare Breast: Female Nudity and Religious Meaning in Tuscan Early Renaissance Culture.“ Eamala_Bndx_in_wastern_Culture1_ Contemnnrar¥_Persnactixas ed. Susan Suleiman (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1986), 195. In this article, Miles analyzes Quattrocento paintings of the Nursing Virgin, relating them to texts, to other genres of painting, and to social and economic conditions resulting from the plague that hit Italy in the fourteenth century. Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 122. Elizabeth Cropper, “The Beauty of WOmen: Problems in the Rhetoric of Renaissance Portraiture,“ Reunitine_the E . . I] E' . E 5 J E'EE . Eanly_Medenn_Euneee ed. Margaret Ferguson, Maureen Quilligan, and Nancy Vickers,(Chicago, 1986), 180- 81. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 89 Ibid., 181. Ibid., 181. Ibid., 191. Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 430. Ibid., 290. Ibid., 229. Charles Yriarte, La ng d'nn patrician de Mania: 5 “MI Siénla. Paris, s.d.. 1874. More recently Ruth Kelso describes this subjugation of women in sixteenth- century Italy. She seems to base many of her assumptions on prescriptions made by a number of sixteenth-century commentators such as Trotto and Barbaro. Trotto states (as translated by Kelso): The wise wife never contradicts, even if right, never opposes, disputes, blames, interrupts, or answers back if chided. Silence is a great preserver of love in husbands, who thus are not plagued by idle words but are listened to reverently when they wish to speak. [Ruth Kelso. W (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1956), 26.] James DaviS. WW lVQQ (Philadelphia, 1975); Patricia Labalme, “WOmen's Roles in Early Modern Venice: An Exceptional Case,“ WWW ed. Patricia Labalme,(New York, 1981) 129-52; Stanley Chojnacki, “La posizione della donna a Venezia nel CinquencentO.“ Tiziann_e_lenezia._£nn1enno_ WWW (Vicenza: N. Pozza, 1980), transl. Kate Ross, 65- 70. Chojnacki, “La posizione della donna a Venezia,“ 69; Labalme, “WOmen's Roles in Early Modern Venice,“ 132. Stanley Chojnacki, “The Most Serious Duty: Motherhood, 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 90 Gender, and Patrician Culture in Renaissance Venice.“ ReflnurinLEmMrsnentixasMsndeLand the_Italian_Renaissanc.e ed. Marilyn Migiel and Juliana Schiesari (Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1991), 137-138. This inflation of the dowry has also been documented in other Italian cities in the early Renaissance. It would also be interesting to study its effects on the position and autonomy of women in families outside of Venice. See Diane Owen Hughes, “From Brideprice to Dowry in Mediterranean Europe,“ Journal_nf_Eam11¥_ History. 262-296. Stanley Chojnacki, “La posizione della donna a Venezia nel Cinquencento,“ 69. Ibid.. 5. SansovinO. W. 414- 415, as cited by Chojnacki. Mario Sanudo. I_diazzi. ed. R. Ralin etn_aln, (Venezia, 1879-1903), XXIX, c. 547, as cited by Stanley Chojnacki in “La posizione della donna,“ 65. Chojnacki, “La posizione della donna,“ 65. On a trip to Venice in 1494, the Milanese canon Pietro Casolo recounted his observations on female fashion: Their women appear to me to be small for the most part, because if they were not, they would not wear shoes -- otherwise called.eianelle -- as high as they do. For in truth I saw some pairs of them sold, and also for sale, that were at least half a Milanese hnaeeie in height. They were so high indeed that when they wear them, some women appear giants; and certain also are not safe from falling as they walk, unless they are well supported by their slaves. As to the adornment of their heads, they wear their hair so much curled over their eyes that, at first sight, they appear rather men than women. The greater part is false hair; and this I know for certain because I saw quantities of it on poles, sold by peasants in the Piazza San Marco.... These Venetian women, especially the pretty ones, try as much as possible in public to 91 show their chests -- I mean the breasts and shoulders -- so much so, that several times when I saw them I marvelled that their clothes did no fall off their backs. Those who can afford it, and also those who cannot, dress very splendidly, and have magnificent jewels and pearls in the trimming around their collars. They wear many rings on their fingers with great balass rubies and diamonds. I said also those who cannot afford it, because I was told that many of them hire these things. They paint their faces a great deal, and also the other parts they show, in order to appear more beautiful...these Venetian women, both high and low, have the pleasure of being seen and looked at; they are not afraid of the fleas biting them, and therefore they are in no great hurry to cover themselves if a man comes upon them unexpectedly. (translated by Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 197-98). 80. Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 141; Chojnacki, “La posizione della Donna,“; Labalme, “The Roles of WOmen in Early Modern Venice.“ 81. Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 286. 82. Ibid., 216. In his WM. 9r., Sansovino describes as follows (as translated by Junkerman, 215): The costume of the women in the past has always been varied and diverse, just as their fickle minds are varied and diverse, because now they are modest, now lascivious, now pompous, now frugal. And it is true that all ages have conceded to women more license in the manner of adorning themselves than to men. And surely this has not been without cause, for it is appropriate that they accompany the grace of their dear beauty with the elegance of adornments and rich fabrics. But the license was so great and had grown to such an extreme level that our Senators agreed to restrain such unbridled will with laws. 83. Chojnacki, “Le posizione della donna,“ 68. 84. 85. 86. 87. 88. 89. 90. 91. 92. 93. 92 Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 190. Ibid., 189. Ibid., 313. Ibid., 314. This rise also resulted in part because of an increased number of young bachelors in Venice. This resulted from the marriage system in which a family, concerned about keeping their wealth consolidated, often let only one of their sons marry. The family's inheritance, thus would not be dissipated among many family branches. Courtesans were visited by these unmarried young men and even men of nobility such as Alfonso d'Este. Pompeo Molmenti. WW IJEJ'Ei' 111E] 11' Transl. Horatio Brown, (Chicago, 1907), 288. Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 302. Ibid., 316. Margaret Rosenthal . W (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 15. Veronica Franco herself passionately attempts to persuade a mother to not allow her daughter to become a courtesan stating that she would “kill in one blow not only a soul but also your own honour and that of your daughter...you can do nothing worse in life..than to force the body into such servitude...To give oneself in prey to so many to risk being despoiled, robbed or killed....“ See Georgina Masson, geuntesans_ef_the_ Italian_Eenaissanee (London: Secker and warburg, 1975), 165. Margaret Miles, WW RelininuLMaaningJLthaJhristianmest. (Boston: Beacon Press, 1989), 167. 94. 95. 96. 97. 98. 99. 100. 101. 102. 103 0 104. 105. 106. 107. 108. 93 Junkerman, “Bellissima Donna,“ 23-24. Ibid., 359. Ibid., 362. Norbert Huse and wolfgang wolters, Ihe_Ann_ef .Eana1aaanga_Ian1ca1__Arshitettura1_Sculntural_and Baintinei_1460;lfiflfl_transl. Edmund Jephcott (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1990), 259. For a discussion on the identification of Elena, see J.S. Held, “Flora, Goddess and Courtesan,“ Essays_in WW. ed. M. Meiss (New York. 1961). 210-218. WetheY. Tha_£aintings_of_Titian. 27: Pillsbury. “The Rebirth of Venus,“ 109; Tressider, “Classicism in the Early WOrk of Titian,“ 272. Hope, “Titian and His Patrons,“ 80. Ruth Wedgwood Kennedy, “Apelles Redivivus,“ Essays_in_ .Memnry_of_Karl_Lahmann ed. Lucy Freeman Sandler. (New York: Institute of Fine Arts, New York University, 1964), 162. Pliny the Elder. Histnria_Naturalia_ynlumaa_31_;_16 transl. K.J. Blake (Chicago: Argonaut Publishers, 1968). Wethey. Tha_£aintings_nf_Titian. 27. Pliny the Elder. Historia_Naturalis. 195. Ibid., 195. Paul Oscar Kristeller. The_Philnsnnhy_nf_Marsilin Eieine transl. Virginia Cineunt,(New York: Columbia University Press, 1943), 13. Ibid., 146. FicinO. commentary_nn_Platan_Symnnsium_on_Lnya. 53-54, transl. with introduction and notes by Sears 109. 110. 111. 112. 113. 114. 115. 116 O 117. 118. 119. 94 Jayne (Dallas: Spring Publications, Inc., 1985), 53- 54. Wethey. Win. 21 . Panofsky. Brnblama_in_Titian._Mostly_Itonogranhin. 153. Pliny the Elder. HiatnriaJaturalia. 129. Ibid., 159. Tressider, “The Classicism of the Early Works of Titian.“ 272: Wethey. ThLEaintinnLnLTitian; Webster Smith, Michigan State University; Pillsbury, “The Rebirth of Venus,“ 109; Kennedy,“Apelles Redivivus,“ 162. Tressider, “The Classicism of the Early WOrks of Titian,“ 129. Images of these figures are reproduced in Erwin Panofsky. RenaissancLancLRenasm-zngm Hestenn_Ant_2nd ed. (Stockholm: Almquist and Wiksell, 1965), Fig. 58. Reproduced in Marion Lawrence, “The Birth of Venus in Roman Art. “ WWW Budelf_flittkeuen ed. Douglas Fraser, Howard Hibbard, and Milton J. Lewine (London: Phaidon Press, 1967), Fig. 7. Reproduced in Marion Lawrence, “The Birth of Venus,“ Fig. 18. Comprehensive documentation of all antique works available to Renaissance artists is being compiled by the Getty Museum. Until it is available to the public, such questions must be left unanswered. Wethey. ThLPaintinnuLTitian. 27 . Sixten Ringbom, Ieen Le Nannatiye; Ihg 353g gf the D I' :1 _ . E'El |]_: . ] Raintine (Acta Academiae Aboensis, Ser. A, Humaniora, XXXI:2)(Abo: Abo Akademi, 1965). 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126. 127. 128. 129. 130. 131. 132. 133. 134. 95 Huse. VenetiaLArtJnLAmhitestnra. 190. Ibid., 190. Peter Burke. ThLItalianJanaissancaLSulturemd Seeiety_in_1taly (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986), 118. Ibid., 121. Hope, “Problems of Interpretation in Titian's Erotic Paintings,“ 113. Burke. ThLItaliaLRanaissangaJultunLanLSnciath Italy, 103. Originally stated in Crowe and Cavalcasaller, 1881, 181. Ibid., 140. Huse. VenetiaLArLandJrchitat'tnre. 259. Sven Stolpe, Chnistina_e£_5neden_ed. Sir Alec Randall, (London: Burnes and Oates, 1960), 149. Tressider, “Classicism in the Early Work of Titian,“ 269. Hope, “Problems of Interpretation in Titian's Erotic Paintings,“ 27. Wethey. Wm. 27. The large mythological works, including the previously discussed painting, Eeasn_e£_the_fieds, were all completed for the Camerino d'Alabastro. This information was found in the inventory of the Estense property in Ferrara. Summarized in Charles Hope, “The Camerini d'Alabastro of Alfonso d'Este-I,“ Eunlineten_Maeazine, CXIII (1971), 641. Hope, “The Camerini d'Alabastro,“ 642. Wethey. Tha_P.aintings_nf_Titian. 31. Venturi, 1928, as cited by Hope, “The Camerini d'Alabastro,“ 26. 135. 136. 137. 138. 139. 140. 96 Asmo, Canino, vol. labelled “1522 -- Cantina“ inscribed “1522 Zornale de la Canipa“ fol. 61, pp. LXIII-LXV.), as cited by Hope in “The Camerini d'Alabastro,“ 26. Hope, “The Camerini d'Alabastro,“ 26. 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WW sieele. Paris, 1984. BIBLIOGRAPHY NOT YET CONSULTED ( Material not available) Hope. Charles. W Relating_t:_th9_Life_and_E:rk_gf_Titian. (D. Phil thesis) Oxford, 1974 Goffen, Rona. “Bellini's Nude with Mirrors.“ Venezia WI I: 1991: no 2: 185-199. FIGURES 106 107 Figure 1. Venus_hnadyemene, Titian c. 1520, National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh (73.6 x 58.4 cm) 108 Figure 2. W. Titian. 1515. Borghese Gallery, Rome. 109 Figure 3. Baeehus_and_Aniadne, Titian, c. 1520-23, National Gallery, London. 110 Figure 4. Venus_ef_L1nhine, Titian, 1538, Uffizi, Florence. 111 Figure 5. Diana_and_Aeteen, Titian, 1556-59, National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh. 112 Figure 6. Ba::hanaLof_tha_Adriana. Titian. c. 1525. Prado. Madrid. 113 Figure 7. Lady_at_H:I_IQil:tt:, Giovanni Bellini, 1515, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna. 114 Figure 8A. Drawing after Zanetti, 1760; Giorgione's Nude on the Fondaco del Tedeschi, c. 1508. 115 Figure 8B. Giorgione's Nude on the Fondaco del Teceschi, c. 1508, Ca d'Oro. 116 Figure 9A. Drawing after Zanetti, 1760; Titian's Judith on the Fondaco del Tedeschi, c. 1508. 117 Figure 9B. Judith, Titian, c. 1508, figure on the southern facade of the Fondaco del Tedeschi. Pi. 118 Figure 10. Eve, by Titian, c. 1508 (print by Jacopo Piccino) for the southern facade of the Fondaco del Tedeschi. 119 Figure 11. Venus, by Titian, c. 1508 (print by Francois Mole) for the southern facade of the Fondaco del Tedeschi. 120 Figure 12. Venus_Anadyemene, Antonio Lombardo, early sixteenth century, Victoria and Albert Museum, London. 121 Figure 13. W. Marcantonio Raimondi, 1506. 122 Figure 14. Munden_ef_a_wife, Titian, c. 1511, Scuola del Santo, Padua. 123 Figure 15. W911. Michelangelo. c. 1510, Sistene Chapel, Rome. 124 Figure 16. EneehetJeel, Michelangelo, c. 1510, Sistine Chapel, Rome. 125 Figure 17. W, Michelangelo, c. 1510, Sistine Chapel, Rome. 126 Figure 18. Elena, Titian, c. 1520-22, Uffizi, Florence. 127 Figure 19. WW. Botticelli. after 1482, Uffizi, Florence. 128 Figure 20. Raphael's sketch after Leonardo's Leda_and_the SEED.- 129 n“ .’ r v . .' . ,5 ’0‘ ”1.”..- Figure 21. Etching after Raphael's Venus, Marcantonio Raimondi. 130 Figure 22. Pompeiian Mosaic of Venus, first century B.C. 131 Figure 23. Portal of Bath at Ephesus, c. 323 B.C. 132 Figure 24. Coptic Relief of Venus, Ahnas, Cairo. Fig 133 Figure 25. W, Roman School, Museo Vaticano, Rome. 134 Figure 26. Wm, Roman School, Naples. 135 Figure 27. Visitatien, so-called Hortulus Master, fifteenth century, Munich. 136 Figure 28. WWII. Book of HourS. Simon Mannion, British Museum. 137 Figure 29. W, so-called Hortulus Master, fifteenth century, Munich. 138 Figure 30. W. Titian, 1516, Dresden. Figure 31. _Sleeeine_Venus, Giorgione, c. 1510—11, Staatliche Gemaldegalerie, Dresden. 140 Figure 32. WW. Giorgione. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna. N STATE UN V. 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