Three Berninis, and some other stuff
(Originally written offline on May 31, on the return flight to Washington, DC)
Wheh. We're winging home, and I finally have a chance to sit down and finish writing about the trip.
On our second day in Rome, we had reservations for the Galleria Borghese. The gallery is in a nice park called the Villa Borghese, which has been called the Central Park of Rome, for good reason. The gallery has a number of nice works, and was then featuring an exhibit on Rafael, including his Deposition (a depiction of the dead Jesus being carried away from the cross). I was impressed with the Deposition and other works in the gallery, including the marvelous painting on the ceiling of the main room. The colors in particular were bright and vivid; comparing these works to other paintings of the time, including some of Rafael's work, I gather that they must have been cleaned recently, and I quickly became a supporter of such cleaning.
However, as with the Academy, the majority of the work in the Borghese was overshadowed, for me, by the work of one sculptor: in this case, Bernini. The Borghese houses three famous works by Bernini: Apollo and Daphne, Pluto and Proserpine, and Bernini's David.
The first two are from Greco-Roman mythology. Apollo and Daphne shows the moment when the god Apollo is catching up to the mortal Daphne, just at the moment when, in a salvation of sorts, she is being turned into a tree. Apollo has just put his hand around her waist, but strips of bark are already beginning to encircle her body, and her arms, flung up in the air, are sprouting small branches and leaves. This is an amazing work. Like most of Bernini's great works, it is intensely dramatic. The craftsmanship is also astounding; this work has thin folds of cloth and tiny, delicate leaves—I find it hard to believe that Bernini didn't accidentally knock a few of them off with a slip of his hammer and chisel. The composition is also impressive: the figures are arranged such that from the back, you mostly see the two human figures, but as you walk around it, you see more and more of the bark and branches, so that when you have walked about three quarters of the way around, the figure of Daphne mostly looks like a tree—as if she has completed the transformation before the eyes of the viewer; probably the closest anyone has come to an animation in marble.
Pluto and Proserpine is another god-chases-woman sculpture, although in this one the god has got the woman and is carrying her away. Again, a dramatic and lively sculpture; Proserpine struggles in Pluto's arms and pushes against his head, stretching the skin on his face. In another mark of life and movement striking to see in stone, a few tears run down Proserpine's cheeks. I was amused to notice the details of Cerebus, the three-headed watchdog of the underworld, who stands by Pluto's feet. Showing delightful attention to detail, Bernini gave them each different facial expressions: one is apprehensive, one is barking in fury, and one has an innocent look of curiosity.
My favorite, however, was Bernini's David, taken of course from Judeo-Christian mythology. While Michelangelo's David is shown in calm, confident thought before he goes off to meet the monster Goliath, Bernini's David is shown in the active moment just before he hurls the rock from his sling. Both the sling and David's face are pulled tight with purpose. The figure leans over to put all his weight into the throw, his muscles tense. The fire and life in the work are amazing; looking at it, I could easily imagine the figure whirling around and sending the rock flying through the air. While Michaelangelo's David is still my favorite for its embodiment of serene confidence, I love Bernini's version for its drama and excitement.
Wheh. We're winging home, and I finally have a chance to sit down and finish writing about the trip.
On our second day in Rome, we had reservations for the Galleria Borghese. The gallery is in a nice park called the Villa Borghese, which has been called the Central Park of Rome, for good reason. The gallery has a number of nice works, and was then featuring an exhibit on Rafael, including his Deposition (a depiction of the dead Jesus being carried away from the cross). I was impressed with the Deposition and other works in the gallery, including the marvelous painting on the ceiling of the main room. The colors in particular were bright and vivid; comparing these works to other paintings of the time, including some of Rafael's work, I gather that they must have been cleaned recently, and I quickly became a supporter of such cleaning.
However, as with the Academy, the majority of the work in the Borghese was overshadowed, for me, by the work of one sculptor: in this case, Bernini. The Borghese houses three famous works by Bernini: Apollo and Daphne, Pluto and Proserpine, and Bernini's David.
The first two are from Greco-Roman mythology. Apollo and Daphne shows the moment when the god Apollo is catching up to the mortal Daphne, just at the moment when, in a salvation of sorts, she is being turned into a tree. Apollo has just put his hand around her waist, but strips of bark are already beginning to encircle her body, and her arms, flung up in the air, are sprouting small branches and leaves. This is an amazing work. Like most of Bernini's great works, it is intensely dramatic. The craftsmanship is also astounding; this work has thin folds of cloth and tiny, delicate leaves—I find it hard to believe that Bernini didn't accidentally knock a few of them off with a slip of his hammer and chisel. The composition is also impressive: the figures are arranged such that from the back, you mostly see the two human figures, but as you walk around it, you see more and more of the bark and branches, so that when you have walked about three quarters of the way around, the figure of Daphne mostly looks like a tree—as if she has completed the transformation before the eyes of the viewer; probably the closest anyone has come to an animation in marble.
Pluto and Proserpine is another god-chases-woman sculpture, although in this one the god has got the woman and is carrying her away. Again, a dramatic and lively sculpture; Proserpine struggles in Pluto's arms and pushes against his head, stretching the skin on his face. In another mark of life and movement striking to see in stone, a few tears run down Proserpine's cheeks. I was amused to notice the details of Cerebus, the three-headed watchdog of the underworld, who stands by Pluto's feet. Showing delightful attention to detail, Bernini gave them each different facial expressions: one is apprehensive, one is barking in fury, and one has an innocent look of curiosity.
My favorite, however, was Bernini's David, taken of course from Judeo-Christian mythology. While Michelangelo's David is shown in calm, confident thought before he goes off to meet the monster Goliath, Bernini's David is shown in the active moment just before he hurls the rock from his sling. Both the sling and David's face are pulled tight with purpose. The figure leans over to put all his weight into the throw, his muscles tense. The fire and life in the work are amazing; looking at it, I could easily imagine the figure whirling around and sending the rock flying through the air. While Michaelangelo's David is still my favorite for its embodiment of serene confidence, I love Bernini's version for its drama and excitement.
posted by Jason Crawford at 5:28 PM
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