The Palazzo Del Te and The Spaces of Mas

THE PALAZZO DEL TE AND THE SPACES OF MASCULINITY
IN EARLY MODERN ITALY
Maria F. Maurer
Submitted to the faculty of the University Graduate School
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree
Doctor of Philosophy
in the Department of the History of Art
Indiana University
February 2012
Accepted by the Graduate Faculty, Indiana University, in partial fulfillment of the
requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.
Dissertation Committee
____________________
Giles Knox, Ph.D. (Chair)
____________________
Bret Rothstein, Ph.D.
____________________
Julie Van Voorhis, Ph.D.
____________________
Massimo Scalabrini, Ph.D.
____________________
Katherine McIver, Ph.D.
Defended on February 3, 2012.
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© 2012
Maria F. Maurer
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For my parents.
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Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the members of my dissertation committee, Giles Knox, Bret
Rothstein, Julie Van Voorhis, Massimo Scalabrini, and Katherine McIver, for their
support and inspiration throughout this project. A special thanks to my committee chair,
Giles Knox, for his continued guidance and encouragement throughout my graduate
career, as well as his invaluable feedback on earlier drafts of this dissertation. I would
also like to express my gratitude to Katherine McIver, who has offered advice and
assistance on navigating archives and architecture.
Research for this project was funded in part by the Samuel H. Kress Foundation
Dissertation Fellowship of the Society of Architectural Historians, as well as generous
grants from the Friends of Art and the Evan R. Lilly Foundation. The writing of this
dissertation was funded by the Anna L. Holmquist Memorial Fellowship. In addition, I
would like to thank the archivists at the Archivio di Stato di Mantova for their assistance,
advice and kindness during my time there. A special thanks to my fellow researchers in
the archives, who provided valuable feedback on ideas that appear in the following
chapters. I owe a particular thanks to Heather Coffey, who provided me with lodging and
friendship when I needed to conduct research in Florence, and to Jennifer Cavalli who
has helped me decipher many illegible documents. Thanks also to members of my
dissertation writing group for their support and assistance.
Finally, I would like to thank my parents and extended family. Their patience,
enthusiasm, and thoughtfulness have provided constant moral support throughout my
academic career.
v
Maria F. Maurer
THE PALAZZO DEL TE AND THE SPACES OF MASCULINITY
IN EARLY MODERN ITALY
This dissertation argues that the Palazzo del Te (1525-1535) functioned as a space
in which courtly masculinity was constructed and performed. Giulio Romano’s playful
approach to architectural proportion and structural integrity, described by
contemporaneous sources as disorienting and even frightening, was nevertheless thought
to enhance Federico II Gonzaga’s princely authority. Through court festivities and
ceremonial processions the palace served as a stage on which Federico II and his heirs
performed before foreigners and locals alike. The architecture and decoration of the
palace depict an idealized masculinity, in which Federico II and his heirs are depicted as
godlike rulers, loyal subjects, virile lovers, prudent leaders, and good Christians.
Moreover, through dynamic interactions with the Palazzo del Te the Gonzaga princes
produced gendered and sexual identities that reverberated beyond the building’s confines.
I investigate the ways in which the palace was used to perform gender roles from
the Palazzo del Te’s inauguration in 1530 until the Sack of Mantua in 1630, and examine
the role of the palace in constructing an ideally masculine image of the Gonzaga dynasty
during the visits of Holy Roman Emperor Charles V (1530 and 1532), King Henry III
(1574), and a series of newly-wedded brides (1584-1617). While the way in which the
palace was employed changed over time, its role as a space wherein the Gonzaga princes
performed an active, virile, and witty masculinity remained constant. This study unites
archival evidence concerning the palace’s ceremonial use with Judith Butler’s theory of
gender performance and Henri Lefebvre’s conception of social space to reveal the
vi
intersections between social discourse on gender and personal agency at the Palazzo del
Te. Not only did the palace play an instrumental role in the construction and reception of
masculinity at the Gonzaga court, it also allowed individuals to negotiate their gender
identities. By investigating the ways in which the Gonzaga family and their guests
experienced the palace, my dissertation argues that gender was constituted in dynamic
relation to space and that the Palazzo del Te was ideally suited to the performance of
Renaissance gender roles.
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Contents
List of Figures, ix
Introduction, 1
Chapter 1: Setting the Stage, 18
Chapter 2: Enter the Players, 68
Chapter 3: Playing the Part, 100
Chapter 4: A Staged Revival, 134
Chapter 5: Performance Anxiety, 154
Conclusion, 212
Figures, 217
Bibliography, 274
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List of Figures
1. Gonzaga dynasty.
2. Gabriele Bertazzolo, Urbis Mantua Descriptio, 1628. Etching. Mantua, Biblioteca
Comunale.
3. Gabriele Bertazzolo, Urbis Mantua Descriptio, detail showing the Isola del Te. 1628.
Etching. Mantua, Biblioteca Comunale.
4. Titian, Federico II Gonzaga, ca. 1530. Oil in panel. Madrid, Museo del Prado.
5. Titian, Giulio Romano, 1536-1538. Oil on canvas. Mantua, Palazzo del Te.
6. Plan of the Palazzo del Te Complex, after Walter Capezzali.
7. Plan of the Palazzo del Te, after Walter Capezzali.
8. North and west façades.
9. North façade.
10. Western loggia.
11. North courtyard façade.
12. West courtyard façade.
13. West courtyard façade, detail.
14. East façade.
15. East façade, detail of Loggia di Davide.
16. Ippolito Andreasi, East façade of the Palazzo del Te, 1567. Black and brown ink with
grey wash. Düsseldorf, Kunstmuseum.
17. Reconstruction of the east façade based upon extant drawings. From Egon Verheyen,
The Palazzo del Te. Images of Love and Politics, 1977.
ix
18. Giulio Romano, Victories and Barbarian Prisoners, ca. 1530. Pen and brown ink
with brown wash. Paris, Musèe du Louvre, inv. 3503.
19. Camera del Sole e della Luna, detail of ceiling vault, Chariots of the Sun and the
Moon, 1526-1527.
20. Loggia delle Muse, view toward the east, ca. 1528.
21. Loggia delle Muse, Eurydice and Aristaeus and Orpheus amongst the Animals.
22. Ippolito Andreasi, Northern Wall of the Loggia delle Muse, 1567. Black and brown
ink with grey wash. Düsseldorf, Kunstmuseum.
23. Camera delle Imprese, detail of east wall, Mons Olympus device, before 1530.
24. Sala dei Cavalli, east and west walls, 1526-1527.
25. Sala dei Cavalli, detail of north wall with Dario, Hercules and the Lernean Hydra,
and Bust of Cleopatra.
26. Sala dei Cavalli, detail of south wall, Morel Favorito.
27. Camera di Psiche, ceiling vault, 1526-1528.
28. Camera di Psiche, detail of north wall, Psyche Searches for the Golden Fleece.
29. Camera di Psiche, detail of ceiling vault, Psyche Sleeping.
30. Camera di Psiche, detail of ceiling vault, Marriage of Cupid and Psyche.
31. Ippolito Andreasi, Vault of the Camera di Psiche, 1567, with overlay of the narrative
order proposed by Daniel Arasse.
32. Camera di Psiche, south wall.
33. Camera di Psiche, west wall.
34. Camera di Psiche, north wall.
35. Camera di Psiche, east wall.
x
36. Camera di Psiche, detail of north wall, Bacchus and Ariadne.
37. Camera di Psiche, detail of east wall, Jupiter and Olympia.
38. Camera di Psiche, detail of east wall, Pasiphae and the Bull.
39. Camera delle Imprese, detail of west wall, Piccola boschaya device.
40. Camera delle Imprese, detail of south wall, Salamander device.
41. Camera dei Venti, south wall, ca. 1528.
42. Camera dei Venti, ceiling vault.
43. Camera dei Venti, detail of west wall, Hoof of Taurus, Gladiatorial Combat.
44. Camera delle Aquile, ceiling vault, 1527-1528.
45. Camera delle Aquile, detail of ceiling vault, Fall of Phaeton.
46. Loggia di Davide, view from the north, 1530.
47. Loggia di Davide, view toward the gardens.
48. Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, Toilette of Bathsheba.
49. Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, David Spying on Bathsheba.
50. Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, The Drunkenness of Uriah.
51. Camera degli Stucchi, south and west walls, after 1530.
52. Column of Trajan, dedicated 112 CE. Rome.
53. Camera degli Imperatori, ceiling vault, after 1530.
54. Camera degli Imperatori, south and west walls, after 1530.
55. Camera degli Imperatori, detail of ceiling vault, Alexander Places the Books of
Homer in a Casket.
56. Camera degli Imperatori, detail of ceiling vault, Julius Caesar.
57. Sala dei Giganti, north wall, 1531-1535.
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58. Sala dei Giganti, west wall.
59. Sala dei Giganti, south wall.
60. Sala dei Giganti, east wall.
61. Sala dei Giganti, ceiling vault.
62. Sala dei Giganti, south west corner.
63. Andrea Mantegna, Camera Picta, The Court of Lodovico Gonzaga, 1465-1474.
Mantua, Palazzo Ducale.
64. Sala dei Giganti, detail of east wall.
65. Sala dei Giganti, detail of west wall.
66. Sala dei Giganti, view of ceiling vault from southwest corner.
67. Processional Route of Charles V in 1530.
68. Giulio Romano, Winged Victory with a Crown of Laurel, 1530. Pen and brown ink
with brown wash. Vienna, Albertina, inv. 332.
69. Giulio Romano, Victory Inscribing the Name of Charles V on a Shield, 1530. Pen and
brown ink. Florence, Uffizi, 1492 E.
70. Titian, Sacred and Profane Love, ca. 1514-15. Oil on canvas. Rome, Borghese
Gallery.
71. Camera di Psiche, detail of west wall.
72. Arch of Constantine, Rome, 312-315 CE.
73. Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine, Rome, ca. 306-313 CE.
74. Leon Battista Alberti, Sant’Andrea interior, Mantua, designed ca. 1470.
75. East façade, detail.
76. Leon Battista Alberti, Sant’Andrea interior elevation, Mantua, designed ca. 1470.
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77. Giovanni Alberto Albicante, after Giulio Romano, from Trattato dell’intrar in Milano
di Carlo V, 1541. Engraving.
78. Camera degli Stucchi, detail of south wall.
79. Giulio Romano, Mounted Soldiers with Lances, ca. 1532. Pen and brown ink. Paris,
Musèe du Louvre, inv. 3555.
80. Camera degli Stucchi, detail of west wall, Victory Writing on a Shield.
81. Andrea Mantegna, Triumphs of Caesar, canvas VI, ca. 1485. Hampton Court.
82. Leone Leoni, reverse, Medal of Charles V, 1547. Silver. Milan, Castello Sforzesco,
Gabinetto Numismatico.
83. Andrea Mantegna, ceiling vault, Camera Picta, Mantua, Palazzo Ducale, 1464-75.
84. Andrea Mantegna, Camera Picta. Mantua, Palazzo Ducale, 1464-75.
85. Andrea Mantegna, detail of Ceiling Oculus, Camera Picta. Mantua, Palazzo Ducale,
1464-75.
86. Correggio, Vision of St. John on Patmos. Parma, San Giovanni Evangelista, ca. 1524.
87. Gonzaga axis as proposed by Marina Romani.
88. Blaise de Vigenère, Triumphal arch at the Porta della Guardia. From La somptveuse
et magnifique entrée du très chréstien roy Henri III, 1576. Engraving.
89. A. Ronchi, Map of Mantua and surrounding countryside, detail showing the Palazzo
di Porto, 1629. Mantua, Archivio di Stato, Cimeli, 29.
90. Camera di Psiche, detail of south wall, Cupid and Psyche with Voluptus.
91. Workshop of Apollonio di Giovanni, Naked Boys with Poppy Pods (verso), ca. 1450-
60. Tempera and gold leaf on panel. Raleigh, North Carolina Museum of Art.
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92. Nicola da Urbino, Plate with Pasiphae, Daedalus and Cupid, ca. 1533. Hermitage, St.
Petersburg.
93. Camera di Ovidio, detail of south wall, Orpheus and Eurydice before Pluto and
Proserpina.
94. Marcantonio Raimondi, Orpheus and Eurydice, ca. 1507-1508. Engraving. The
Illustrated Bartsch, 14:295.
95. Agnolo Bronzino, Portrait of Cosimo I de’ Medici as Orpheus, ca. 1537-1539. Oil on
panel. Philadelphia, Philadelphia Museum of Art.
96. Nicoletto da Modena, Orpheus, 1500-1510. Engraving. London, British Museum.
97. Anonymous Italian Artist, detail, Orpheus lamenting the loss of Eurydice, 1549.
Woodcut. London, Warburg Institute Library.
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Introduction
On 1 April 1530 the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V visited the Palazzo del Te,
and upon entering the Camera di Psiche ―he stood completely awestruck, and there he
remained for more than half an hour contemplating it and praising everything
immensely.‖1 The emperor‘s visit marked the beginning of the Palazzo del Te‘s use in
Gonzaga ceremonial life. For the next century the palace would play a pivotal role in
welcoming dignitaries to the city of Mantua, thereby cementing the Gonzaga dynasty‘s
definition of itself in the courtly culture of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Europe.
Through entertainments staged for foreign royalty, grand entries organized for newly
wedded Gonzaga brides, and festivities held for the local nobility, the Palazzo del Te
participated in the construction of the Gonzaga dynasty as learned, noble, and, perhaps
most important, masculine (Fig. 1).
Begun around 1525 by the newly-arrived Giulio Romano,2 the palazzo was
located on the Isola del Te, at the edge of Renaissance Mantua (Figs. 2 and 3).3 While
Federico II Gonzaga‘s motives in commissioning the palace are still debated by scholars,
the Palazzo del Te was used as a suburban retreat and ceremonial center, and therefore
1
―... sua Maestà restò tutta maravigliosa, et ivi stette più di mezz‘hora a contemplare, ogni cosa laudando
sommamente.‖ Luigi Gonzaga, Cronaca del soggiorno di Carlo V in Italia (dal 26 luglio 1529 al 25 aprile
1530) Documento di storia italiana estratto da un codice della Regia Biblioteca universitaria di Pavia, ed.
Giacinto Romano (Milano: U. Hoepli, 1892). Unless noted otherwise, all translations are my own.
2
As is his name indicates, Giulio was from Rome, and arrived in Mantua in October of 1524. For the letters
between Baldassarre Castiglione and Federico II Gonzaga discussing Giulio‘s transfer to Mantua, see
Daniela Ferrari, ed. Giulio Romano: repertorio di fonti documentarie, 2 vols. (Roma: Ministero per i beni
culturali e ambientali, Ufficio centrale per i beni archivistici,1992).
3
The Isola del Te no longer exists, as the canal separating Mantua from the mainland was filled in during
the early 20th century. The Palazzo del Te now sits in the midst of a public park.
1
had to accommodate both aspects in its form and decoration.4 Though its quotidian uses
ranged from picnic site to alchemical laboratory, 5 my primary interest is in the
ceremonial function of the palazzo. Through both visual analysis and archival research I
argue that the form and decoration of the Palazzo del Te created spaces ideally suited for
the courtly performance of Renaissance masculinity.
Far from a passive reflection of gender construction, the palace played a dynamic
role in enacting masculine ideals at the Gonzaga court, and served as a key point of
intersection between localized gender ideals and those from further afield in Italy and
Europe. I therefore aim to treat the Palazzo del Te as integral to a social and cultural
environment in which the performance of masculinity took center stage. For this reason, I
employ Judith Butler‘s theory of performative gender in analyzing the structures and
spaces of the palace. 6 In treating the Palazzo del Te and its environs as social spaces, I
also intend to build upon the work of Henri Lefebvre.7 By utilizing the methodologies of
both Butler and Lefebvre I explore how the spaces of the Palazzo del Te were constituted
by gendered interactions, and at the same time engendered certain masculine
performances.
4
Scholars have largely assumed that the Palazzo del Te was begun as both a suburban retreat and a private
meeting place for Federico and his mistress, Isabella Boschetti. For the first reference relating the palace to
Federico‘s affair with Boschetti see Giovanni Battista Intra, "Il Palazzo del Te presso a Mantova e le sue
vicende storiche," Archivio Storico Lombardo IV(1887). These dual themes are most notably taken up by
Frederick Hartt, Giulio Romano (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1958); Egon Verheyen, The Palazzo
del Te in Mantua. Images of Love and Politics (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1977). For a
critical view of this theory, see pp. 41-44 below.
5
See, for example, Archivio di Stato di Mantova (ASMn), Archivio Gonzaga (AG), busta (b.) 2527, folio
(f.) 378r, dated 13 November 1539, wherein Giovanni Francesco de Grossi reports to Federico II Gonzaga
that his wife, the Duchess Margherita Paleologa, ―went to the Isola del Te to enjoy herself [andò in sul Te a
piacer],‖ and ASMn, AG, b. 2656, fascicolo (fasc.) VII, f. 105r, dated 31 July 1592 wherein Federico
Follino announces the arrival of alchemists at the palace.
6
Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (New York: Routledge, 1990).
7
Henri Lefebvre, The Production of Space, trans. Donald Nicholson-Smith (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991).
2
Butler has argued that gender is constructed through ―acts, gestures, and desires
[which] produce the effect of an internal core or substance.‖ 8 Rather than a stable
identity, gender is a product of society created through bodily behaviors. These behaviors
―
are performative in the sense that the essence or identity that they otherwise purport to
express are fabrications manufactured and sustained through corporeal signs and other
discursive means.‖9 Gender is therefore a constant performance, the unceasing enactment
of both personal and cultural experiences that seems natural, but is actually manufactured
by the collective performances of many individuals.10
Lefebvre has likewise argued that ―(Social) space is a (social) product.‖11 Like
gender, space is socially constructed through the actions of its inhabitants. For Lefebvre,
social spaces are produced through the interactions of spatial practice, which
encompasses both the ways that space is perceived through the senses and how its
inhabitants use spaces to structure their lives; representations of space, or space as it is
conceived of and abstracted by architects and planners; and representational space, which
is space informed by the emotions, interpretations, and imaginations of its inhabitants. 12
Space is perceived, conceived and experienced, and is constructed through the interplay
of these three concepts. The production of space is historical, and occurs through space‘s
interrelationships with changing social practices. 13 Lefebvre directly applies his theories
to Late Medieval and Renaissance Italy, finding that changing modes of production
altered the relationships between town and country and led to a new kind of space,
8
Butler, Gender Trouble, 185.
9
Ibid. Emphasis in original.
10
Ibid., 188.
11
Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 26.
12
Ibid., 33, 38-9. For a useful analysis of Lefebvre‘s theoretical approach to space, see Andy Merrifield,
Henri Lefebvre: A Critical Introduction (New York: Routledge, 2006), 99-120.
13
Ibid., 116-7.
3
neither urban nor rural. In these new spaces criss-crossing trees and alleys organized the
land, while piazze and streets organized the town, in arrangements which evoked the
developing artistic practice of linear perspective.14 I depart from Lefebvre in that my
analysis of space is focused not on the economic means of spatial production, but on the
ways in which gender and space interact with one another.15
Much like Butler‘s discussion of performative gender, space is shaped by the
social relationships and actors of its time. However, I would expand upon Lefebvre‘s
theory: Space is not simply shaped by social interactions, but shapes them in turn. By
examining the use of the Palazzo del Te after the deaths of its creators, I wish to analyze
the ways in which space can continue to function as a locus for the enactment of
gendered relationships. The palace and its environs were constituted by the gendered
behaviors of sixteenth-century Mantua, but they were not simply passive receptors of
gender performance. The Palazzo del Te shaped and influenced masculine behavior at the
Gonzaga court through its continued use as a ceremonial site.
While Judith Butler is interested in the subversive potential of gender
performance, 16th-century society expected individuals to perform normative gender
roles. 16 In fact, Valeria Finucci has noted that men were actually under greater pressure
than women to perform proper standards of gender.17 She argues that Renaissance culture
encouraged the performance of virile masculinity, and that portraits of the time depict
men with ―beards and rigid collars, their bodies erect and stiff, their eyes firmly
14
Ibid., 78-9.
15
See Ibid., 31.
16
Katherine Crawford, Perilous Performances: Gender and Regency in Early Modern France (Cambridge:
Harvard University Press, 2004), 9.
17
Valeria Finucci, The Manly Masquerade: Masculinity, Paternity, and Castration in the Italian
Renaissance (Durham: Duke University Press, 2003), 3.
4
beholding the onlooker,‖ and that men often ―wore codpieces, and carried daggers
pointing suggestively upwards and swords placed firmly between their legs.‖ 18 Her words
could be a description of Titian‘s Federico II Gonzaga, 1529 (Fig. 4). Federico stands
rigidly, his chest pushed forward, his left hand stiffly at his side, his right caressing a
lapdog whose playful attitude contrasts that of its master. He wears a full beard and
mustache, with a curly, cropped head of hair, and he looks out of the painting with a
commanding air. He wears a sword at his hip, the hilt of which points upward, a visual
echo of his conspicuous red codpiece. Sixteenth-century masculinity was vigorously
enacted through both bodily performance and images, as well as texts.
In his Book of the Courtier the Mantuan ambassador and courtier Baldassarre
Castiglione fashions an image of the ideal courtier based upon the correct performance of
masculine gender roles. Castiglione advises the (male) courtier to ―practice in all things a
certain nonchalance [sprezzatura] which conceals all artistry and makes whatever one
says or does seem uncontrived and effortless.‖ 19 Sprezzatura is at the heart of
Castiglione‘s courtier; for it imbues everything he does with grace and ensures that he
delights everyone around him. Castiglione‘s concept of masculinity is therefore that of a
seemingly effortless, but nonetheless highly contrived, performance. Indeed, Wayne
Rebhorn has argued that Castiglione‘s courtier is meant to ―produce an endless series of
brilliant performances,‖ and that sprezzatura was a means for the courtier to manifest his
superiority by creating a performance that does not call attention to itself, but leaves
18
Ibid., 4.
19
Baldassarre Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, trans. George Bull (New York: Penguin, 1967), 67. It
is important to note that sprezzatura does not simply denote the indifference implied by the translation
‗nonchalance.‘ In Castiglione‘s writing it also implies ―scorn for normal, human limitations, physical
necessities, and the restrictions of most forms of behavior.‖ Wayne A. Rebhorn, Courtly Performances:
Masking and Festivity in Castiglione's Book of the Courtier (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1978),
35.
5
spectators free to appreciate his skill. 20 A man‘s character manifests itself through words,
actions, and movements to be sure; but above all, it manifests itself in the persuasiveness
of his performance.
Castiglione was also clear that masculinity should be performed in opposition to
femininity: ―just as it is very fitting that a man should display a certain robust and sturdy
manliness, so it is well for a woman to have a certain soft and delicate tenderness.‖ 21 The
two concepts of gender were in many ways diametrically opposed: Castiglione defined
masculinity as strong and enduring, in contrast to the gentle fragility of femininity.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Castiglione also favored clear distinctions between male and
female, masculine and feminine. He admonished the court lady to ―always appear a
woman, without any resemblance to a man.‖22
Despite Castiglione‘s cautions to the court lady, much of the Book of the Courtier
is concerned with masculine, rather than feminine, gender roles. Masculinity, identified
especially with virility, was the defining characteristic of a man, yet the slippages
between masculinity and femininity made it impossible to pin down a stable concept of
manhood.23 That Castiglione understood the destabilizing potential of gender
performance can be seen by his cautions against inappropriately gendered actions.
Castiglione advised the male courtier against appearing
soft and feminine as so many try to do when they not only curl their hair and
pluck their eyebrows but also preen themselves like the most wanton and
dissolute creatures imaginable. Indeed, they do appear so effeminate and languid
in the way they walk, or stand, or do anything at all, that their limbs look as if
20
Rebhorn, Courtly Performances, 25; 38-9.
21
Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, 211.
22
Ibid.
23
Finucci, The Manly Masquerade, 165-66.
6
they are about to fall apart; and they pronounce their words in such a drawling
way that it seems as if they are about to expire on the spot.24
Castiglione‘s anxiety that a man could be feminine or a woman masculine exposes the
artifice of Renaissance gender. If a Renaissance man could be perceived as feminine, he
must try all the harder to create a stable façade of masculinity. By pointing out the areas
of potential gender slippage, Castiglione highlights the performative nature of gender.
Masculinity is enacted primarily through the routine movements of the body, for
Castiglione is at pains to warn men against walking, standing, or moving in any way
which might be perceived as feminine. It is these commonplace movements that Judith
Butler also finds constitutive of gender, which for her ―must be understood as the
mundane way in which bodily gestures, movements, and styles of various kinds
constitute the illusion of an abiding self.‖ 25 For both Castiglione and Butler gender is
made visible on the surface of the body, and is constituted through the performance of
everyday gestures and appearances.
In the very sophistication of its artifice the Palazzo del Te provided an ideal
location to enact such performances. Like Castiglione‘s ideal courtier, Giulio Romano‘s
palazzo embodies sprezzatura.26 Giulio Romano constructed a building intended to
delight and astound viewers through a studied exhibition of marvels that nevertheless
seem natural. The courtier‘s nonchalance is made manifest through actions; the
sprezzatura of the Palazzo del Te is seen in the easy way in which Giulio combines
24
Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, 60-61.
25
26
Castiglione‘s concept sprezzatura has previously been used to understand the Palazzo del Te, though it
has been understood to function in different ways by various authors. See: Amedeo Belluzzi and Walter
Capezzali, Il palazzo dei lucidi inganni. Palazzo Te a Mantova (Florence: Centro di Architettura
Ouroboros, 1976), 58; Ernst H. Gombrich, "Il palazzo del Te: riflessioni su mezzo secolo di fortuna critica,
1932-1982," Quaderni di Palazzo Te 7(1984): 19; Manfredo Tafuri, "Giulio Romano: linguaggio,
mentalità, committenti," in Giulio Romano, ed. Manfredo Tafuri (Milan: Electa, 1989), 20-49.
7
seemingly disparate elements in a deliberate attempt to surprise viewers. 27 No two
façades of the palace are exactly alike, and only the east façade is perfectly symmetrical.
The appearance of symmetry is maintained by the rhythmic placing of architectural
elements such as windows and columns, yet the rhythm is broken by rusticated portals
and dropped triglyphs.28 The combination of contrasting elements found on the façade is
mirrored on the interior. The severity of the Sala dei Cavalli is followed by the opulence
of the Camera di Psiche, and the overwhelming terribilità of the Camera dei Giganti is
preceded by the austere calm of the Camera degli Imperatori.
The importance of sprezzatura in Giulio‘s own self-fashioning can be seen in
Titian‘s portrait of the artist (Fig. 5).29 In addition to the plain background, Giulio‘s
carefully groomed beard, sober clothing, and direct gaze seem to be consciously modeled
after Raphael‘s portrait of Baldassarre Castiglione. Giulio holds a drawing of a centrally-
planned building, regarded as an ideal for Renaissance architects. Although the plan
depicts a building that was never executed, its inclusion in the portrait manifestly claims
that it was one of Giulio‘s premiere structures.30 Giulio grasps the plan firmly in his right
hand and gestures across his body to call the viewer‘s attention to his creation, yet his
movement appears casual and is visually contained by the form of his body. Like the
courtier‘s performance, Giulio‘s portrait is a carefully arranged image of artlessness.
27
Tafuri, "Giulio Romano," 20.
28
Manfredo Tafuri, "Giulio Romano: language, mentality, patrons," in Giulio Romano - Architect, ed.
Manfredo Tafuri (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 25.
29
For a discussion of the concept of self-fashioning as it relates to portraiture, seeStephen Greenblatt,
Renaissance Self-Fashioning from More to Shakespeare (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), 18-
27.
30
John Shearman, "Titian's Portrait of Giulio Romano," The Burlington Magazine 107, no. 745 (1965):
172-77. Shearman argued that the drawing must have been of a building important to Giulio, and concluded
that it was an unrealized plan for the church of Santa Barabara, which was constructed in the 1560s under
Guglielmo Gonzaga in fulfillment of a vow made to his father.
8
Through its displays of visual sprezzatura the Palazzo del Te drew praise similar
to that of Castiglione‘s courtier, and is therefore akin to a fellow performer. The ideal
man should elicit reactions of awe or marvel (maraviglia) from his audience. 31 In
concluding his advice to the courtier, Castiglione states that he ought to know all the
aspects of courtiership and perform them brilliantly ―so that he can do everything
possible and that everyone marvels at him and he at no one.‖32 For Castiglione, the
response of maraviglia is often used to denote both a delight in being presented with
something unexpected and an admiration for ingenuity and wit. 33
This is exactly the reaction that the Palazzo del Te drew from its visitors. As
noted at the opening of this introduction, Charles V was ―completely awestruck [tutta
maravigliosa]‖ by the frescoes in the Camera di Psiche. 34 Giorgio Vasari wrote that the
Sala dei Giganti was ―a marvelous work‖ because
the whole painting has neither beginning nor end, but is so well joined and
connected together … that the things which are near the buildings appear very
large, and those in the distance … go on receding into infinity. 35
The awe that the Sala dei Giganti elicited from Vasari was due to its surprising
inventiveness: the fact that the entire room was covered in fresco was both a new
development in painting and an unexpected visual delight.
At several points Castiglione likens the courtier to an artist: both aim to please
and delight their audience with virtuoso performances. In elaborating upon the concept of
sprezzatura, Count Lodovico comments that the courtier‘s constant application of
31
Rebhorn, Courtly Performances, 47.
32
33
34
Cf. n. 1 above.
35
Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, trans. Gaston du C. De Vere, 2 vols.
(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1996), 2:132.
9
nonchalance in every action will not only reveal his skill, but make it seem greater than it
really is. He then compares the courtier‘s performance of sprezzatura to painting, for
a single line which is not labored, a single brushstroke made with ease, in such a
way that it seems that the hand is completing the line by itself without any effort
or guidance, clearly reveals the excellence of the artist.36
Vasari describes Giulio Romano in similar terms, stating that when executing projects for
his friends and patrons, ―no sooner had one opened his mouth to explain to [Giulio] his
conception than he had understood and drawn it.‖37 It is Giulio‘s mental and artistic
facility which Vasari praises, and the very fact that Giulio did not have to labor over his
art, but could simply execute at will whatever was asked of him. These are the same
qualities that Castiglione praises in his courtier, and that Giulio brings to the Palazzo del
Te.
Like Castiglione‘s courtier, the Palazzo del Te delights and surprises its viewers
through a calculated performance of sprezzatura. The courtier lives in a theatrical society
based on the seeming naturalness of a constructed persona. Similarly, the Palazzo del Te
is constructed around a theatrical approach to architecture and a seemingly easy balance
between artifice and artlessness. Giulio Romano‘s innovative treatment of the façade,
especially his introduction of slipped triglyphs in the interior courtyard and his use of
rustication (Fig. 12), caused the architect and theoretician Sebastiano Serlio to refer to the
Palazzo del Te as ―partly the work of nature, and partly the work of artifice,‖38 while
Giorgio Vasari called Giulio‘s frescoes in the Palazzo del Te ―abundant in invention and
36
37
Vasari, Lives, 2:136.
38
―... parte opera di natura, e parte opera di artefice.‖ Sebastiano Serlio, Tutte l'opere d'architettura di
Sebastiano Serlio (Venice1584; reprint, I sette libri dell'architettura, Bologna 1978), 4.11v.
10
artifice.‖39 The themes of artifice and theatricality are incorporated into the very fabric of
the palace itself. While at first glance the building may seem to be constructed out of
marble, it is in fact comprised of brick overlaid with stucco. The underlying core of the
palace is hidden beneath a sculpted, almost painterly, façade. The façade is an act, for it
pretends to be what it is not; yet it is an act intended to be found out. Half-finished
columns in the entrance loggia (Fig. 10) and architectural elements which do not perform
the functions for which they were intended destabilize the façade, allowing the viewer to
see the pretense underlying Giulio‘s structure. The simulation necessitated by his
materials led not only to a reappraisal of classical architecture,40 but, I would argue, to a
new appreciation for the roles of artifice and acting in art.
On the interior, artifice is found in both in Giulio‘s use of materials and his
employment of di sotto in sù techniques to fool the eye. Vasari‘s remark on the
inventiveness and artifice employed by Giulio Romano in the Camera di Psiche refers to
the credenza on the south wall (Fig. 32), wherein the display of lustrous plates and
goblets ―seem to be of real silver and gold,‖ but are in fact ―counterfeited with a simple
yellow and other colors.‖41 As in the façade, mundane materials are made to appear rich
and vibrant, and the illusion is similarly broken through architectonic elements, in this
case the corbels of the ceiling vault, which intrudes upon the frescoed walls.
Giulio similarly blurs the lines between nature and artifice in a fresco located in
the Camera del Sole e della Luna (Fig. 19). Here, the chariots of the sun and the moon,
39
―... copioso d‘invenzion e d‘artifizio.‖ Giorgio Vasari, Le vite de' più eccellenti pittori scultori ed
architettori, Firenze 1568, ed. Gaetano Milanesi, 8 vols. (Florence: G.C. Sansoni, 1880), 538-9. Artifizio is
sometimes translated as ‗craftsmanship,‘ as in Vasari, Lives, 2:128. I have used ‗artifice‘ to retain a sense of
the visual trickery implicit in Giulio‘s compositions. See n. 41 below, where Vasari refers to Giulio‘s
ability to counterfeit materials.
40
Bob Allies, "Palazzo del Te: Order, Orthodoxy and the Orders," The Architectural Review 173, no. 1036
(1983): 60-1.
41
11
driven by Apollo and Diana, respectively, race across the ceiling. They are depicted as if
seen from below, using steep foreshortening and perspective, such that the viewer
actually feels as if he or she is looking upward at the progress of the sun and moon across
the sky. As with other di sotto in sù works at the Palazzo del Te, ―besides seeming to be
alive,‖ the figures of gods and their chariots ―deceive the human eye with a most pleasing
illusion.‖42 Vasari therefore notes that they are both natural, that is objects modeled after
Nature, and works of artifice, or painted figures that create an illusion. The tension
between nature and artifice created spaces in which courtier-actors performed their
appropriate roles.
The theatrical nature of the Palazzo del Te has already been noted by Howard
Burns, who links Giulio‘s treatment of the façade to courtly spectacle: both aimed to
delight and amaze viewers through variety and overwhelming display. 43 However, it is
clear that Giulio‘s interest in theater extended beyond the façade to the interior decoration
of the palace. Perhaps the best evidence of Giulio‘s theatrical approach to the Palazzo del
Te can be seen in the Sala dei Giganti (Figs. 57 through 61). The frescoed depiction of
the Olympian gods defeating the rebellious giants covers the entire surface of the room.
The playful hints at architectural ruin in the courtyard are made manifest, as the walls
appear to fall down around the spectator. The room is also an echo chamber, and if more
than two or three people attempt to hold a conversation the entire space rings with their
voices. Finally, the original floor of the room was made of small rounded stones, similar
to the lower parts of the fresco.44 Not only did these stones compliment the illusion of the
42
Ibid., 2:127.
43
Howard Burns, ""Quelle cose antique et moderne belle de Roma": Giulio Romano, il teatro, l'antico," in
Giulio Romano, ed. Manfredo Tafuri (Milan: Electa, 1989), 35.
44
First noted by Vasari, Lives, 2:132.
12
painting, they were not smooth, creating an uneven surface on which disrupted visitors‘
physical equilibrium.
It is the combination of visual, aural and physical stimuli that caused Vasari to
exclaim: ―Wherefore let no one ever think to see any work of the brush more horrible and
terrifying, or more natural than this one.‖ 45 Upon entering the Sala dei Giganti visitors
would have been overwhelmed by the destruction they witnessed, the din caused by their
fellow visitors, and the shifting floor beneath them. The Palazzo del Te was a building
intended to elicit dramatic responses from its visitors, and was therefore constructed as a
stage in which courtiers could enact their gendered and social relationships.
The focus on virility found in Titian‘s portrait of Federico II Gonzaga is
magnified and enhanced at the Palazzo del Te, which likewise depicts him as
appropriately masculine. In both its architecture and its decoration the Palazzo del Te
projects an idealized masculinity, wherein Federico is referred to as a godlike ruler, loyal
subject of Charles V, virile lover, prudent leader, and a good Christian. The continued use
of the palazzo as a ceremonial center throughout the sixteenth and early seventeenth
centuries shows that the images and gendered ideal founds in the palace were equally
relevant to Federico‘s heirs.
The Palazzo del Te is a kind of courtly stage which encouraged the performance
of masculine roles. The spaces of the palace are constructed through these performances;
through its architecture and decoration which are perceived through sight, touch, and
sound; through Giulio Romano‘s virtuoso handling of materials that literally constructs
the space; and through the interactions of Federico II Gonzaga and his visitors. A
45
Ibid.
13
combination of perception, construction, and interaction,46 the spaces of the Palazzo del
Te participated in the production of courtly masculinity by eliciting gendered
performances from its creator, patron, and visitors.
Butler states that gender is performed ―on the surface of the body through a play
of signifying absences that suggest, but never reveal, the organizing principle of identity
as a cause.‖47 Gender is an artifice produced on the surface of things. The surfaces of the
Palazzo del Te – its façades – are similarly a play of absence and presence that suggest,
but never fully reveal the methods of its construction. Built from brick and mortar, the
organizing principle of the Palazzo del Te is hidden behind a layer of stucco made to look
like marble. Likewise, the surfaces of the interior walls purport to contain depths that
conceal the existence of the wall, as in the Sala dei Giganti, and surfaces which celebrate
the presence of the wall, as in the Camera degli Stucchi (Fig. 51). The stucco figures of
Roman triumphs that process around the Camera degli Stucchi do not attempt to create
the illusion of depth. Rather, they sit on the surface of the wall, calling attention to its
dual role as pictorial and architectural support. The Palazzo del Te is a building of
surfaces which interact with one another and with the viewer in dynamic ways to
construct performative spaces. The human body is a surface, but it exists in space, moves
through space, and experiences space in terms of both the presence of walls, ceilings and
floors, and the absence of such concrete structures. Giulio Romano‘s surfaces are based
upon an artifice that is meant to be recognized and appreciated, thereby encouraging the
performance of a gender identity which was artificial in its construction and natural in its
appearance.
46
What Lefebvre would call spatial practice, representations of space, and representational space. See
Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 33.
47
14
In order to analyze the Palazzo del Te as a performative space, this dissertation
will examine its role in the ceremonial life of the Gonzaga court. Helen Watanabe-
O‘Kelly has argued that ceremonies such as triumphal entries and the welcoming of
foreign brides were not simply demonstrations of political and familial relationships, but
were also the means by which such relationships were created.48 Ceremonies functioned
in the same way for the display and formation of gendered relationships. With particular
reference to the Gonzaga dynasty, the triumphal entries of foreign visitors and brides
were events in which gendered behaviors in Mantua came into being. These were
transformative moments in which the Palazzo del Te played a vital role.
This study therefore investigates the ways in which the Palazzo del Te was used
by its inhabitants and visitors to construct and negotiate masculine gender roles. The first
chapter applies the concept of performative masculinity to the structures and images of
the Palazzo del Te itself: its architecture, interior decoration, and gardens. This new
visual analysis focuses on the ways in which Giulio Romano created dynamic and
polysemous spaces designed to elicit interactions between viewer and image.
Additionally, the chapter investigates the masculine values and courtly behaviors
depicted at the Palazzo del Te in order to set the stage for the analysis of particular
gender performances which follows.
The second chapter investigates the 1530 visit of Charles V, which incorporated a
tour of the Palazzo del Te, as well as festivities organized at the palace and on its
grounds. The 1530 visit is the first recorded ceremonial use of the palace, and in many
ways set patterns that would be followed for the next century. Moreover, a detailed
48
Helen Watanabe-O'Kelly, "Early Modern European Festivals - Politics and Performance, Event and
Record," in Court Festivals of the European Renaissance: Art, Politics and Performance, ed. J.R. and
Elizabeth Goldring Mulryne (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002), 15.
15
account of the emperor‘s actions at the palace allows for an analysis of the ways in which
courtiers and princes enacted masculine identities in the spaces of the Palazzo del Te.
Activities such as dancing, dining, and learned conversation took place in an environment
designed to elicit displays of masculine virility, wit, and sprezzatura. The Palazzo del Te
played an instrumental role in Federico‘s social and political engagement with Charles V,
and in particular helped the marquis-cum-duke fashion a masculine identity that could be
understood by a larger European audience.
Chapter three discusses how changes to the palazzo‘s structure and decoration
after 1530 not only reflected Federico II‘s new status as duke, but also the physical
presence of the emperor in Mantua. The ephemeral decorations and court entertainments
organized by Giulio for the 1530 visit occasioned a deep engagement with the artistic
heritage of both ancient Rome and Renaissance Mantua. Additions to the Palazzo del Te
after 1530 therefore reference monuments such as Leon Battista Alberti‘s Sant‘Andrea
and Andrea Mantegna‘s Camera Picta, which had been completed by Giulio‘s
predecessors at the Gonzaga court. Giulio re-framed these works in his own Roman
idiom to create images and spaces which celebrate the presence of the Holy Roman
Emperor in Mantua, yet, at the same time, recall his absence.
Chapter four considers the visit of King Henry III (1574), and the new function of
the Palazzo del Te in Gonzaga ceremony. From 1574 on the palace served as the starting
point of triumphal entries into Mantua, which caused a realignment of the city‘s
ceremonial axis. Additionally, amidst rumors of inappropriate masculine conduct, the
iconography used in the triumphal entry staged for Henry III was used to construct an
image of the French king as a victorious, active ruler. An altered account of the king‘s
16
entry into Mantua, printed two years after his arrival, is compared with documentary
accounts of his activities in 1574 to examine the ways in which the Palazzo del Te was
re-purposed to suit changing ideas of Counter-Reformation masculinity.
The fifth chapter analyzes four entries by foreign brides (1581-1617), all of which
staged the Palazzo del Te as the place in which the bride was officially welcomed to
Mantua and transformed from a foreign princess into a Gonzaga wife. This chapter
considers interpretive troubles that arose when the Gonzaga men failed to perform an
active, virile masculinity before their brides. The problematic performances of Vincenzo
I Gonzaga in 1581 and his son, Ferdinando Gonzaga, in 1617 show that, in the absence of
normative masculine performances, the multivalent spaces created by Giulio Romano
could be experienced in ways never intended by the artist or his patron. In an effort to
mitigate their unsuccessful performances, the Gonzaga altered the way in which the
palace was used by later generations.
The conclusion briefly considers the end of the Gonzaga dynasty and the decline
of the Palazzo del Te as an integral part in fashioning courtly masculinity. During the
1630 Sack of Mantua the Palazzo del Te was looted by imperial troops, who left behind
graffiti and carried off its furnishings and movable goods. By the time Charles Dickens
visited Mantua in 1844 the Palazzo del Te was ―as desolate and neglected as a house can
be.‖49
49
Charles Dickens, Pictures from Italy (New York: William H. Colyer, 1846), 31.
17
Chapter 1
Setting the Stage
Giulio Romano‘s Palazzo del Te was designed and constructed over a roughly
ten-year period from 1525 to 1535.50 As Giulio was often occupied with several projects
as once, his tightly organized workshop was responsible for executing much of the
painted and stucco decoration according to his models. 51 Giulio‘s vision of the palace
necessarily changed in response to the desires of his rather demanding patron, Federico II
Gonzaga, and his own experiences in Mantua. Rather than a monolithic monument with a
unified iconography and stable interpretive framework, Giulio Romano and Federico II
Gonzaga changed and adapted the building on the Isola del Te throughout its
construction. 52 Moreover, as both architect and artist Giulio Romano had unprecedented
control over the spatial and visual forms of the palace. 53 Through both the architecture
50
The precise start-date of the palazzo is unknown, but the finishing touches appear to have been added in
1535. Amedeo Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te a Mantova, 2 vols. (Modena: Franco Cosimo Panini Editore, 1998),
1:30.
51
The attribution and dating of the interior frescoes and stuccoes is discussed in Piera Carpi, Giulio
Romano ai servigi di Federico II Gonzaga, con nuovi documenti tratti dall'Archivio Gonzaga, 1524-1540
(Mantua: Mondovi, 1920), 3-31; Hartt, Giulio Romano, 105-60; Egon Verheyen, "Die Malereien in der
Sala di Psiche des Palazzo del Te," Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen 14(1972): 33-68; Konrad Oberhuber,
"Palazzo Te: L'apparato decorativo," in Giulio Romano, ed. Manfredo Tafuri (Milan: Electa, 1989), 336-
79; Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:193-206. It is generally agreed that the completion of the interior decoration
closely followed that of the exterior structure.
52
Kurt W. Forster and Richard J. Tuttle, "The Palazzo Te," Journal of the Society of Architectural
Historians XXX, no. 4 (1971). The earliest structures on the island were stables, but around 1525 Federico
II Gonzaga had Giulio construct the initial phase of the villa, which included walls from the original stables
and likely encompassed the Sala dei Cavalli through the Camera di Ovidio. Federico quickly decided to
enlarge the structure, and the original building was incorporated into the current palace. The second
building phase, which likely commenced in 1527, transformed the villa into a palace and included the
western and northern wings of the palace and probably half of the eastern wing. The third phase, which
began after April 1530 comprised the eastern façade and Loggia di Davide, completed the eastern and
southern wings. The southern loggia and façade remained undecorated. Verheyen argues that Giulio‘s first
building phase also included the Camera di Psiche; see Egon Verheyen, "The Palazzo del Te: In Defense of
Jacopo Strada," Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians XXXI(1972): 134-35.
53
The subject of Giulio‘s artistic control at the Palazzo del Te has been much debated, especially in
reference to the asymmetrical nature of the façades. Gombrich and Hartt initially believed that the Palazzo
del Te was constructed ex novo, and that its irregularities were the product of his artistic license. Ernst H.
Gombrich, "Zum Werke Giulio Romanos. I. Der Palazzo del Te " Jarbuch der Kunsthistorischen
Sammlungen in Wien 8(1934): 79-104; "Zum Werke Giulio Romanos. II. Versuch einer Deutung," Jarbuch
18
and decoration, Giulio created a visually dynamic environment that encouraged multiple
interpretations and incited the performance of gendered virtues and behaviors.
I will analyze the ways in which Giulio used both art and architecture to create
spaces that encouraged interaction between the courtly viewer and the structures around
him. While much of the literature on the Palazzo del Te has been interested in locating
precise meanings for the frescoes and architectural elements of the façades, 54 Giulio
created spaces that consistently resist stable interpretation. 55 Viewers engaged
intellectually with the frescoes by participating in discussions regarding their invention
and significance. 56 Moreover, I will investigate Giulio‘s conception of space, or, as Henri
Lefebvre would call it, Giulio‘s representations of space. 57 In painting, stucco and
architecture Giulio Romano created dense, multi-layered representations that blurred the
boundaries between physical and fictive spaces and encouraged viewers to actively
participate in both realms.
der Kunsthistorischen Sammlungen in Wien 9(1935): 121-50; Translated into Italian by Anna Maria
Conforti as "L'opera di Giulio Romano," Quaderni di Palazzo Te 7(1984): 23-78; Hartt, Giulio Romano,
91. However, John Shearman brought attention to Giorgio Vasari‘s vita of Giulio Romano, which states
that the artist was instructed to make use of pre-existing structures. John Shearman, "Giulio Romano,
tradizione, licenze, artifici," Bollettino del Centro Internazionale di Studi d'Architettura A. Palladio
IX(1967): 354-68. The architectural study of Forster and Tuttle confirmed that Giulio incorporated earlier
buildings into the palace, which led the authors to almost wholly reject the notion of artistic freedom at the
Palazzo del Te. Forster and Tuttle, "The Palazzo Te," 267-93. Forster later admitted that he had overstated
his previous claims, and current scholarship moderates between the two extremes. Amedeo Belluzzi and
Kurt W. Forster, "Giulio Romano architetto alla corte dei Gonzaga," in Giulio Romano, ed. Manfredo
Tafuri (Milan: Electa, 1989), 177-225.
54
Hartt, Giulio Romano, 91-159; Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 16-44; Forster and Tuttle, "The Palazzo
Te," 276-80; Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 336-74; Rodolfo Signorini, La 'fabella' di Psiche e altra
mitologia seconda l'interpretazione pittorica di Giulio Romano nel Palazzo del Te a Mantova (Mantua:
Sintesi, 1995). And, to a lesser extent, Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:115-42.
55
Shearman noted that courtly viewers would have appreciated the fact that Giulio sacrifices unity for
variety at the Palazzo del Te. Shearman, "Giulio Romano," 366-67. In addition, Manfredo Tafuri has
proposed that it was the ―bipolarity‖ of Giulio‘s oeuvre that allowed his work to appeal to both courtly and
clerical patrons. Tafuri, "Giulio Romano," 18-19.
56
When Charles V visited the Palazzo del Te in 1530, he was given a tour wherein the significance of
many of the images was discussed. Gonzaga, Cronaca, 262-67. Cf. pp. 93-97 below.
57
Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 99-120. Cf. pp. 3-4 above.
19
Due to my focus on spatial composition, I will discuss several rooms of the palace
only briefly, or not at all, among them the Camera di Ovidio, Camera delle Imprese,
Camera del Sole e della Luna, the small rooms west of the Sala dei Giganti, and the
Garden Apartment (Figs. 6 and 7). This is not to suggest that these are not important
rooms, yet contemporary documents rarely mention them, and the spatial mechanics of
each are rather straightforward. I will also focus upon elements of the Palazzo del Te that
provoked masculine interactions between image, space, and viewer in order to illuminate
the ways in which visitors would have experienced the palace.
Mannerism and its Discontents: The Façades
The concept of dynamism has long been recognized at the Palazzo del Te,
specifically in the façades (Figs. 8 through 15). The first to comment upon Giulio‘s
unique approach to the architecture of the Palazzo del Te was the sixteenth-century
architectural theorist Sebastiano Serlio, who characterized the movement of the façades
as ―partly the work of nature, and partly the work of artifice.‖58 The rusticated blocks on
the outer façades appear to shift in and out of the building, creating a sense of depth and
motion. The asymmetrical composition of the north outer façade and north courtyard
façade (Figs. 9 and 11), while not immediately apparent, creates a syncopated rhythm that
encourages the viewer to look more closely and also contributes to the sense of
movement caused by the masonry blocks. 59 The instability of moving masonry is
intensified in the courtyard, where triglyphs slip downward as if they were about to fall
out of place and a keystone ruptures the pediment it is supposed to support (Fig. 12). On
58
Serlio, Tutte l'opere d'architettura di Sebastiano Serlio, 4.11v.
59
Tafuri, "Giulio Romano," 20-25.
20
the eastern façade, Giulio used a series of columns, pilasters and colonettes combined
with windows, archways, and blind niches to create movement along the façade, but also
in and between its elements (Fig. 14).
For many art and architectural historians, the painterly way in which Giulio
approached the façades became the defining factor of both its creator and the Mannerist
style. While sixteenth-century observers do not appear to have seen anything
transgressive in the palazzo‘s architecture, by the late seventeenth and early eighteenth
centuries the building was described as a structure which violated classical architectural
rules and typified both Giulio‘s artistic genius and his tendency toward intemperance. 60
In the earliest scholarly work devoted to Giulio Romano, Carlo D‘Arco described the
disruptive façades and contorted painted compositions of the Palazzo del Te as marvels
―attributable to an excess of feeling and exaltation.‖61 Giulio was not as accomplished as
Raphael at expressing ―sweet feelings,‖ but excelled at ―conveying voluptuousness,
lasciviousness, revenge, suspicion, jealous rage and envy.‖62 His ability to depict and
elicit emotions was recognized from the outset of the scholarly debate, though subject to
divergent interpretations.
Nikolaus Pevsner likewise detected an overabundance of emotion in the Palazzo
del Te, which he described as ―a deliberate attack‖ on classical and Renaissance ideals of
60
Johann Dominik Fiorillo, Geschichte der Mahlerei in Rom (Göttingen: Röwer, 1798), 131-32. See also,
Paolo Carpeggiani, "La fortuna critica di Giulio Romano architetto," in Studi su Giulio Romano (S.
Benedetto Po: 1975), 13-33; Ernst H. Gombrich, "'Anticamente moderni e modernamente antichi.' Note
sulla fortuna critica di Giulio Romano pittore," in Giulio Romano, ed. Manfredo Tafuri (Milan: Electa,
1989), 11-13.
61
―attribuirsi ad un eccesso di sentire ed esaltazione ...: Carlo D'Arco, Istoria della vita ed delle opera di
Giulio Pippi Romano (Mantua1838), 85.
62
―Giulio non riuscì ad esprimere degnamente quei sensi dolcissimi ... Ottimamente diffato ne fa sentire la
voluttà, la lascivia, la vendetta, il sospetto, la rabbia gelosa e l‘invidia ...‖ Ibid., 89.
21
harmony and balance.63 The tension between nature and artifice in the Palazzo del Te and
other Mannerist works created an instability that expressed the torment and doubt of
Reformation-era Europe.64 Ernst Gombrich also discerned an ambivalence and anxiety on
the façades and in the Sala dei Giganti. However, Gombrich did not link the inquietude of
the Palazzo del Te to religious conflict, but to the emergence of the artistic virtuoso who
could freely express his emotions in art.65 While he rejected the notion that Giulio was
anti-classical, Frederick Hartt also argued that the façades of the Palazzo del Te betrayed
―the basic unrest of Giulio‘s nature.‖66
In contrast, art historians after Hartt characterized the dynamism of the palazzo‘s
façades as witty, even ironic, references to classical architecture that characterized both
Giulio Romano‘s persona, and Mannerism as a whole, as courtly and erudite. The
mixture of rustic and ashlar masonry, the falling triglyphs, and the general irregularity of
the façades were seen as humorous adaptations of classical motifs that created a pleasing
visual environment. Giusta Nicco Fasola discerned a sense of lightness in the Palazzo del
Te, and a desire to amuse in those very architectural elements which had so alarmed
Pevsner and Gombrich. 67 While Fasola rejected the notion that Giulio Romano was a
Mannerist artist because the palace lacked drama and anxiety, his concepts of lightness
and amusement became fundamental to a new definition of Mannerism. 68 Manfredo
63
Nikolaus Pevsner, The Architecture of Mannerism (London: Rutledge, 1946), 121. Pevsner is indebted to
Friedlaender, who likewise described Mannerist art as anti-classical and anti-Renaissance. Walter
Friedlaender, Mannerism and Anti-Mannerism in Italian Painting (New York: Columbia University Press,
1957), 89.
64
Pevsner, The Architecture of Mannerism, 132-37.
65
Gombrich, "Zum Werke Giulio Romanos. I," 81-89. Gombrich later admitted that he may have
overstated the anxiety of the façade. Ernst H. Gombrich, "Architecture and Rhetoric in Giulio Romano's
Palazzo del Te," in New Light on Old Masters (London: Phaidon, 1986), 161-70.
66
Hartt, Giulio Romano, 102.
67
Giusta Nicco Fasola, "Giulio Romano e il Manierismo," Commentari 11(1960): 60-73.
68
Carpeggiani, "La fortuna critica di Giulio Romano architetto," 25.
22
Tafuri‘s discussion of Mannerism in architecture identified a sense of irony at the Palazzo
del Te that allowed Giulio to create and maintain a balance between the opposing forces
of naturalism and artifice.69 When John Shearman redefined Mannerism as a ―stylish
style,‖ the Palazzo del Te was one of the primary examples upon which he based his
analysis. It exhibited the variety, abundance, wit, and obscurity, of Mannerism, and
sought to perfect the classicism of Renaissance art, rather than subvert it.70
In the 1970s new archival and architectural investigations revealed that the
current high-relief rustication was a product of eighteenth-century restorations, and that
the asymmetrical treatment of the façades was the result of Giulio‘s incorporation of a
previous structure.71 These discoveries coincided with a general rejection of the term
‗Mannerism,‘72 and the Palazzo del Te inevitably lost its status as an archetype for the
now-defunct style. It also ceased to be seen as an expression of artistic freedom at
roughly the same time. More recently, scholarship has focused on the ways in which
constraints, such as pre-existing structures and the lack of marble, encouraged Giulio to
experiment with classical motifs and create an ironic response to the Vitruvian tradition. 73
In a courtly context, the dynamism of the building is understood as visual sprezzatura, a
seemingly effortless combination of contrasting elements that were meant to entertain
69
Manfredo Tafuri, L'architettura del Manierismo nel Cinquecento europeo (Rome: Officina Edizioni,
1966), 51-54.
70
John Shearman, Mannerism (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1967), 140-58.
71
Forster and Tuttle, "The Palazzo Te," 267-93.
72
Cecil Gould, The Paintings of Correggio (London: Faber and Faber, 1976); Malcolm Campbell,
"Mannerism, Italian Style," in Essays on Mannerism in Art and Music. Papers read at the West Chester
State College Symposium on Interdisciplinary Studies, November 18, 1978, ed. Sterling E. Murray and
Ruth Irwin Weidner (West Chester: West Chester State College, 1980), 1-33.
73
Allies, "Palazzo del Te," 59-65; Volker Hoffmann, "Giulios Ironie. Eine Bemerkung zum Palazzo del Tè
in Mantua," Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 43(1999): 543-58.
23
and delight the viewer.74 Giulio‘s introduction of unfinished elements, such as the
columns in the western loggia (Fig. 10), mirrors the intentional negligence of the
courtier.75 The restraints imposed upon him by his patron, the site, and available materials
forced him to improvise, and drew from Giulio performance of sprezzatura, a deliberate
disdain for the rules of classical architecture.76
The 1989 Giulio Romano exhibition continued to examine the role of sprezzatura
in Giulio‘s work, but also occasioned a re-evaluation of his oeuvre, with particular
attention to his role as both artist and courtier at the Gonzaga court. Amedeo Belluzzi and
Kurt Forster described him as the ―set designer, even director, of life at court.‖77 Howard
Burns argued that Giulio‘s familiarity with theater and court spectacle allowed him to
interpret classical and Renaissance precedents in an emotional and dramatic register that
would have been recognized and appreciated by sixteenth-century courtiers. 78 More
recent discussions of the Palazzo del Te have likewise examined the affective potential of
the palace, though attention has shifted away from architectural dynamism to analysis of
the frescoes. Both Paula Carabell and Sally Hickson focus on the Sala dei Giganti as a
space intended to provoke emotional reactions from the viewer.79
74
The term sprezzatura was first applied to architecture of the Palazzo del Te by Belluzzi and Capezzali, Il
palazzo dei lucidi inganni, 58. More recently, Tafuri identified sprezzatura as a motivating theme in Giulio
Romano‘s oeuvre, see Tafuri, "Giulio Romano," 20-49.
75
Gombrich, "Architecture and Rhetoric," 166-67.
76
Ibid., 167. For a slightly different interpretation, in which the author discusses the ambiguities of the
Vitruvian tradition, and views Giulio as one who re-examines elements of the classical vocabulary, see
Allies, "Palazzo del Te," 59-65.
77
Belluzzi and Forster, "Giulio Romano architetto," 177.
78
Burns, "Giulio Romano, il teatro, l'antico," 237.
79
Paula Carabell, "Breaking the Frame: Transgression and Transformation in Giulio Romano's Sala dei
Giganti " Artibus et Historiae 18, no. 36 (1997): 87-100; Sally Hickson, "More Than Meets the Eye: Giulio
Romano, Federico II Gonzaga, and the Triumph of Trompe-l'oeil at the Palazzo del Te in Mantua," in
Disguise, Deception, Trompe-l'oeil, ed. Leslie Boldt-Irons, Corrado Federici, and Ernesto Virgulti (New
York: Peter Lang Publishing, 2009), 41-59.
24
While Giulio‘s painterly treatment of the façades is no longer the focus of
scholarly attention, the implied movement of architectural elements and the witty
displacement of supportive structures created a dynamic, active building. Courtly viewers
might well have recognized the sprezzatura of the façade and responded with their own
virtuoso performances of graceful adaptability. The artifice of the façades, which are
mere stucco pretending to be stone, reminded the courtier that his performance was also a
façade that was nevertheless supposed to appear natural and unstudied. Like the façades,
the interior frescoes continue to deceive the viewer and to impinge upon his physical
space.
When the viewer moves inside the Palazzo del Te, the themes of masculine
sprezzatura and courtly artifice continue. As Manfredo Tafuri has observed, the transition
from the classicizing demeanor of the Sala dei Cavalli to the opulence of the Camera di
Psiche represents the same protean changeability that was expected from the courtier. 80 In
addition, Giulio Romano continues to create dynamic and interactive spaces through the
use trompe l‘oeil, shifting perspective, and complex literary and iconographic references.
Giulio combined seemingly incongruous elements and multiple textual narratives to
create images dense with interpretive possibilities. At the same time, he often employs
contradictory approaches to pictorial space in many of his narrative frescoes at the
Palazzo del Te. Scholars have long recognized that Giulio Romano sought to collapse the
space between the viewer and the image in the Sala dei Giganti. 81 However, the Sala dei
Giganti is the culmination of Giulio‘s desire to construct spaces which engage the viewer
80
Tafuri, "Giulio Romano," 20.
81
See, for example, Gombrich, "Zum Werke Giulio Romanos. I," 99-102; John Shearman, Only Connect:
Art and the Spectator in the Italian Renaissance, The A.W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts (Princeton,
NJ: Princeton University Press, 1992), 190; Carabell, "Breaking the Frame," 87-100.
25
in a play between physical and painted space, and between nature and artifice, and
thereby call attention to the performative nature of the courtier.
The façades of the Palazzo del Te play upon the contrasts between rusticated and
ashlar masonry to create elements that impinge upon the viewer‘s space (Fig. 9). The
building seems to forcefully assert its presence, as rusticated doorways and windows
bristle forth from the smooth surface of the building. On the outer façades, ashlar
pilasters appear to float on the surface of the building, rather than support it. The surface
is treated in a painterly manner, for Giulio shapes and orders its elements according to
pictorial, rather than architectural, desires. 82 Despite the fact that the north façade is
asymmetrical, Giulio has maintained the illusion of balance: the rhythmic placement of
pilasters and windows conceals the fact that they are not evenly spaced. Giulio
Romano‘s ability to harmonize structural discontinuities through cleverly arranged
architectonic units and a painterly treatment of the building‘s surface typifies the
courtier‘s ability to construct convincing façade of effortless grace while masking the
conflict behind it.
In the courtyard, structural dissonance is heightened, as is the concept of courtly
artifice. The pilasters of the outer façades have become engaged columns that more
convincingly support the architrave above (Figs. 11, 12 and 13). However, the illusion of
structural order is belied by the triglyphs that slip out of place on the east and west
façades, and the keystone that boldly ruptures the pediment over the western loggia (Figs.
12 and 13). The building should not stand, for the very elements that support it appear to
decay before the courtier‘s eyes. Moreover, like all of the palazzo‘s façades, the falling
82
Hartt also noted Giulio‘s pictorial approach to the architecture of the palace. Cf. Hartt, Giulio Romano,
102.
26
triglyphs and broken pediment of the courtyard are stucco, and the calamitous destruction
of the building that they purport to represent is deceptive. The implied movement of the
façades is like a good joke, for both aim ―to cheat expectation and to respond in a way
that is unexpected.‖83 Moreover, Castiglione added that ―if the joke is to be really
elegant, it must be flavored with deceit, or dissimulation.‖ 84 The courtyard plays upon a
courtly understanding of humor to create a witty façade that could be recognized by only
the most erudite courtier. 85
The east façade of the Palazzo del Te is both more serious and more complex
(Figs. 14 and 15). Instead of playful allusions to artificiality and deception, and
infringements upon the viewer‘s space, the grandeur of the garden façade overwhelms the
viewer. The current pediment was added during renovations to the palace in the
eighteenth century, but a drawing executed in 1567 by Ippolito Andreasi records the
original appearance of the façade (Fig. 16).86 Andreasi‘s drawing reveals the close
correspondence between the garden façade and Roman triumphal arches, namely the
tripartite central doorway surmounted by an attic. The addition of the pediment provides
a greater visual emphasis on the central loggia than Giulio originally intended, yet the
sixteenth-century loggia projected outward toward the viewer in order to draw his
83
84
Ibid.
85
The humor of the façades is contingent upon a viewer who understood the original, supportive function
of the triglyph.
86
The drawing is part of a set of precise renderings of the architecture and decoration of the Palazzo del Te,
as well as some of the frescoes and paintings in the Palazzo Ducale. They were discovered and identified
by Egon Verheyen, "Jacopo Strada's Mantuan Drawings of 1567-68," The Art Bulletin XLIX, no. 1 (1967).
Verheyen argues that the drawings are not artistic copies, but precise reproductions ordered Jacopo Strada,
who was, in turn, working at the behest of Albrecht V of Bavaria. The identification of Ippolito Andreasi
as the artist behind the drawings was first made by Renate von Busch, "Studien zu deutschen
Antikensammlungen des 16. Jahrhunderts" (Eberhard-Karls-Universität, 1973), 204-05, 15. For the
accuracy of Andreasi‘s drawings and their ability to aid art historians in reconstructing the sixteenth-
century appearance of the Palazzo del Te, see Verheyen, "In Defense of Jacopo Strada," 133-37.
For a thorough account of the architectural changes of the eighteenth century, see Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te,
1:229-79.
27
attention. The façade was composed of a series of open and closed spaces, which moved
the viewer‘s eye in and out of the building. The visual intricacy of the façade would have
been heightened by frescoes of victories and captive barbarians that decorated the
spandrels (Figs. 17 and 18).87 Tantalizing glimpses of the loggia and courtyard coupled
with the play of shadow and light recorded in Andreasi‘s drawing would have drawn the
courtier toward the façade and into the building, thus impelling him to enact his own
triumphal procession. The façade also demonstrates the changeability that the courtier
should possess: he should be both witty and serious, both a jokester and a victorious
military man.
The façades of the Palazzo del Te hint at the constructed nature of the courtier:
like a work of art, he must bring together contrasting elements to create a pleasing
composition. 88 The courtier‘s performance of masculine virtue is a series of masks which
he puts on to entertain and please his companions. 89 The Palazzo del Te similarly
presents façades calculated to delight and to draw forth courtly displays from its viewers.
While the palace reminds the courtier of the artificial nature of his performance, it also
supports and encourages it.
87
A document dated 11 October 1532 records payment to Fermo da Caravaggio for painting ―figuri de
vitori gra[n]di del naturalo con vari spolie, troffei e cornisamenti‖ on the garden façade. Transcribed
byFerrari, ed. Giulio Romano, 1:517. Hartt was the first to propose a reconstruction of the garden façade
based on extant drawings, though Verheyen has altered his disposition of the figures. See Hartt, Giulio
Romano, 100; Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 80; 108-09.
88
Cf. Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, 114.
89
28
The Courtier’s Artifice: The Loggia delle Muse
The first interior space that the visitor entered was the Loggia delle Muse, named
by Frederick Hartt for the stucco muses that adorn the barrel vault. 90 In addition to the
muses, the vault above is decorated with hieroglyphics and interspersed with animal and
vegetal forms (Fig. 20).91 The individual figures have been identified in several different
ways, but authors generally agree that the loggia celebrates princely patronage of the
arts.92 The frescoes depict Mantua, and the Palazzo del Te as places where the arts
flourish under the patronage of Federico II Gonzaga.
On either side of the main portal are two lunette frescoes of Orpheus and his
doomed wife, Eurydice, which are based upon Virgil‘s version of the tale from the
Georgics (Fig. 21).93 As Mantua‘s most famous son, Virgil was the ideal source for a
loggia dedicated to the Mantuan arts.94 The use of Virgil‘s narrative, rather than the more
popular version recounted in Ovid‘s Metamorphoses,95 was surely intended to recall the
historic association of Mantua and its rulers with the celebrated classical poet. Orpheus
90
Hartt, Giulio Romano, 108. Before Hartt christened it the Loggia delle Muse, the space was simply
known as the ―loggia di tramontana‖ or the north-facing loggia.
91
Bertrand Jaeger, "La Loggia delle Muse nel Palazzo Te e la reviviscenza dell'Egitto antico nel
Rinascimento," in Mantova e l'antico Egitto da Giulio Romano a Giuseppe Acerbi (Florence: Leo S.
Olschki, 1994), 21-39.
92
The various iconographic identifications are all related to figures of poetic or artistic inspiration. The
male figure above the doorway to the Camera del Sole e della Luna has been identified as a personification
of the Hippocrene river by Hartt and Verheyen, or Apollo by Oberhuber. Hartt, Giulio Romano, 108;
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 24; Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 339.
Hartt identified the female figure over the doorway to the Sala dei Cavalli as the nymph Castalia; Verheyen
believed she was Urania, the muse of astronomy; and Belluzzi argues that she is an allegory of the Mantuan
arts. Hartt, Giulio Romano, 108; Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 24-25; Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:362.
93
Virgil, Georgics, trans. Peter Fallon (Oxford: Oxford Univsity Press, 2006), 4.317-557. The loggia is
rarely discussed in contemporary sources, and the literary source for the frescoes was not identified until
1800. See Heinrich Meyer, "Mantua im Jahre 1795," Propyläen 2(1800): 3-66.
94
Virgil‘s provenance was well-known to the Gonzaga. From about 1450 onward various members of the
family had sought to raise a monument to the poet in Mantua. The most famous of these was Isabella
d‘Este, who went so far as to have Mantegna produce a drawing for the monument in 1499. Alessandro
Luzio and Rodolfo Renier, "La coltura e le relazioni letterarie d'Isabella d'Este Gonzaga," Giornale Storico
della letterature italiana 23(1899): 43.
95
Ovid, Metamorphoses, trans. David Raeburn (London: Penguin, 2004), 10.1-85; 10.1-85.
29
was also a famous poet and musician, and in the Renaissance was viewed as a patron of
all the arts.96 Moreover, Orpheus already had an established place in Gonzaga
iconography, for three scenes from his life had been depicted by Mantegna in the Camera
Picta some fifty years prior.97
Now badly damaged, the frescoes can best be analyzed using a drawing executed
by Ippolito Andreasi in 1567 (Fig. 22). 98 To the left of the doorway, Orpheus‘ doomed
wife Eurydice is pursued by Aristaeus. The snake that causes her death is wound around
Eurydice‘s foot, and a putto either holds her veil or restrains Aristaeus, perhaps both
encouraging and reproving the young man‘s behavior. A nude female figure who reclines
beneath Eurydice is likely a personification of the stream along which Eurydice fled. On
the other side of the doorway, Orpheus mourns his inability to save Eurydice from the
underworld by playing his lyre. A nude male, twisted so that his back is to the viewer,
seems to serve a function similar to that of the nude woman in the neighboring Eurydice
and Aristaeus. In both lunettes, the landscape dominates the images, and, in the image of
Aristaeus and Eurydice the mountain behind the figures takes on the form of Mount
Olympus, so familiar from the Gonzaga device of Mons Olympus, which also appears
throughout the palace (Fig. 23).99
96
Giuseppe Scavizzi, "The Myth of Orpheus in Italian Renaissance Art, 1400-1600," in Orpheus, the
Metamorphoses of a Myth, ed. John Warden (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982), 111-62.
97
For a discussion of Mantegna‘s Orphic frescoes as a tribute to Gonzaga patronage of the arts, see
Randolph Starn and Loren W. Partridge, Arts of Power: Three Halls of State in Italy, 1300-1600 (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1992), 129-31.
98
The drawing is part of a set of precise renderings of the architecture and decoration of the Palazzo del Te,
as well as some of the frescoes and paintings in the Palazzo Ducale. They were discovered and identified
by Verheyen, "Jacopo Strada's Mantuan Drawings." Verheyen argues that the drawings are not artistic
copies, but precise reproductions ordered Jacopo Strada, who was, in turn, working at the behest of
Albrecht V of Bavaria. The identification of Ippolito Andreasi as the artist behind the drawings was first
made by Busch, "Studien zu deutschen Antikensammlungen des 16. Jahrhunderts", 204-05, 15.
99
The Mons Olympus device seems to have been devised for Federico II Gonzaga around the time he
became marchese in 1519. It was almost always paired with the inscription FIDES, which signified that the
fidelity of the Gonzaga allowed them to rise above the storms that assail those at lower climes. Jacopo
30
Orpheus‘s story had been told by both Virgil and Ovid, and had a long history of
interpretation, beginning in Late Antique art and literature and continuing to the
Renaissance. 100 The mythic hero was therefore a multivalent figure reviled as the
inventor of pederasty and renowned for his rejection of female vice as well as for his
temperance and fortitude.101 However, humanists cast his rejection of women and refusal
to remarry as a warning to bachelors of the social ills they could inflict when they failed
to take a wife.102 In the Loggia delle Muse, the unusual juxtaposition of Eurydice and
Aristaeus and Orpheus amongst the Animals not only attests to Federico‘s status as a
patron of the arts and a man possessed of Orphic virtues, it also offers male viewers a
choice between the pursuit of sexual pleasure with women, or homosocial bonding
through more masculine pursuits.103
Despite their narrative focus on Orpheus and Eurydice, the frescoes subsume the
human figures in a vast landscape dominated by clear skies, especially in Orpheus
amongst the Animals, where the hero is difficult to locate.104 Instead, the viewer‘s gaze is
drawn to a monkey or ape that sits on a ledge in the foreground and gazes out of the
Gelli, Divise, motti, e imprese di famiglie e personaggi italiani (Milan: Ulrico Hoepli, 1916), nos. 83, 84,
1214; Hartt, Giulio Romano, 110.
100
For a discussion of Orpheus‘ transformation and interpretation, see John Block Friedman, Orpheus in
the Middle Ages (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1970); John Warden, "Orpheus and Ficino," in
Orpheus, the Metamorphoses of a Myth, ed. John Warden (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982).
101
Rose Marie San Juan, "Mythology, Women, and Renaissance Private Life: The Myth of Eurydice in
Italian Furniture Painting," Art History 15, no. 2 (1992): 134.
102
Katherine Crawford, The Sexual Culture of the French Renaissance (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010), 45-48.
103
It is not outside the realm of possibility that, like his friend Pietro Aretino, who poked fun at Federico II
Gonzaga‘s refusal to select a bride in Il Marescalco, Giulio‘s depiction of Orpheus likewise satirizes his
patron‘s single status. However, we are not certain whether or not Giulio chose to pair Eurydice and
Orpheus or was told to paint those specific scenes. For the relationship between Il Marescalco and Federico
II, see Deanna Shemek, "Aretino's Marescalco: Marriage Woes and the Duke of Mantua," Renaissance
Studies 16, no. 3 (2002): 366-80.
104
Andreasi‘s drawings tend to flatten space somewhat, but a comparison with the remnants of the fresco
shows that there was a great amount of depth in the original composition.
31
fresco.105 The animal sits at the edge of the picture plane, and his outward gaze bridges
the space between the fresco and the viewer. 106 The ape defines the ledge; it would not
be legible as such without his presence. His tail is prominently draped over the painted
ledge, and further obscures the boundary between illusion and reality. The fictitious ledge
and the simian gaze collapse the space between the viewer and the image, while at the
same time more sharply defining the distance between them.
In both ancient and Renaissance literature, apes were associated with mimicry and
with art‘s ability to imitate nature.107 Moreover, ancient and Medieval commentators
disdainfully compared painting to apes: both attempted to mimic Nature and thereby
deceive the viewer.108 However, beginning with Boccaccio‘s De Genealogia Deorum
Gentilium (c. 1360), the trope of the painter as the ape of Nature gained prominence as a
positive attribute.109 By the time Giovanni Lomazzo published his Trattato della arte
della pittura in 1584, the artist‘s imitative similarity to the ape was what made painting
an art, rather than a craft. Since Nature was the guide of all the arts, the artist‘s ape-like
emulation of nature elevated painting.110 The direct gaze of the Loggia delle Muse
monkey comments on the painter‘s ability to ape nature by creating an image that fools
the eye. For a moment, the ape makes the painted ledge appear to actually exist in three-
dimensional space and he allows the fictive image to counterfeit reality. Giulio‘s
105
I use the terms monkey and ape somewhat interchangeably, for while Giulio‘s animal has a tail and is
therefore technically a monkey, the figure more closely resembles a tailless Barbary ape.
106
Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:106.
107
H.W. Janson, Apes and Ape Lore in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance (London: Warburg Institute,
1952), 289-92.
108
Ibid., 289.
109
Boccaccio relates the story of Epimetheus, who made a clay figure of a man. He was transformed into
an ape as punishment and was banished to an island of apes or perhaps persons who imitated nature.
Boccaccio implies that since it was Nature who endowed apes with the imitative impulse, the painter who
imitates nature is only following Nature‘s command. Ibid., 290-91.
110
Ibid., 302.
32
inclusion of a simian interrogator that confuses the spaces between reality and illusion
comments on the role of the artist as ape.
In the Loggia delle Muse, the ape looks not at Orpheus, but at the viewer. His
outward gaze suggests that the viewer has drawn his attention, just as the viewer‘s focus
falls upon the ape. Thus, it is not only the artist who is depicted as the ape of nature, but
also the courtly viewer. Castiglione likens the courtier to an artist, who can effortlessly
imitate nature. The courtier‘s performance should ―appear to have been composed very
simply and according to the promptings of Nature and truth rather than effort and
artifice.‖111 In the Loggia delle Muse Giulio establishes a reflexive gaze between the
viewer and the ape that ironically reminds the courtier of his own directive to mimic
nature. The ape in the Loggia delle Muse provides an introduction to the Palazzo del Te.
Throughout the palace Giulio calls attention to the mimetic ability of painting and
implicates the courtier in a performance of artifice so skillful that it momentarily deceives
the viewer.
Effortless Illusions: The Sala dei Cavalli
In the Sala dei Cavalli, Giulio continues to create painted illusions that mimic
nature and implicate the courtier in a bravura performance of masculinity. As he entered
the room, the viewer would have immediately been struck by six roughly life-size profile
portraits of the famed Gonzaga horses (Fig. 24). The horses stand in front Corinthian
pilasters that frame fictive windows into idyllic landscapes strewn with castles and towns.
Above the real windows of the room are painted niches filled by classical busts (Fig. 25),
while larger niches at either end of the room hold full-size statues of Olympian gods. Not
111
33
only has Giulio creative fictive spaces, he has also experimented with texture: between
the pilasters, the wall appears to be covered with marble revetment, while fictive bronze
plaques located above the horse portraits depict scenes from the life of Hercules. The
layers of space created by fictive architectural elements make it appear as if the horses
stand in the space of the room and lead the viewer to question which elements of the
painted fantasy are architectonic and which are fresco.
Iconographically, the room is as complex as the spaces it constructs. While four
of painted reliefs are based upon the Labors of Hercules, the Rape of Deianira and
Hercules and Antaeus are not. The statues of the gods in the niches are identifiable as
Jupiter and Juno, and Mars and Venus, while Vulcan rests over the fireplace. Two of
Federico‘s most ubiquitous imprese, the Mons Olympus and the salamander, are worked
into the ceiling. The classicism and intellectualism of the frescoes are belied by a frieze
of cavorting putti, who mock both spatial and social order. Scholars have been
unsuccessful in attempts to fit the horses, classicizing sculptures, and Herculean reliefs
into one unified program. 112 Given the prevalence of antiquities collecting, Herculean
imagery and horse portraits in other Gonzaga palaces, 113 it seems likely that Federico
selected the disparate elements in an effort to connect himself with the larger program of
Gonzaga patronage. However, Giulio and Federico would also have been well aware of
112
For example, Egon Verheyen has proposed that the room encapsulates the defining themes of the palace,
which for him are love and politics. The horses, busts, and reliefs were political, while the statues of Jupiter
and Juno and Venus and Mars represented love. Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 29-30.
113
Isabella d‘Este‘s fame as a collector of antiquities is well-documented by Clifford Brown, Per dare
qualche splendore a la gloriosa cità di Mantua: Documents for the Antiquarian Collection of Isabella
d'Este (Rome: Bulzoni, 2002). As discussed below, there were two other Sale dei Cavalli painted prior to
that in the Palazzo del Te. Hercules also appears in Mantegna‘s Camera Picta in Mantua‘s Palazzo Ducale,
which was painted for Federico‘s great-grandfather Ludovico Gonzaga.
34
the status of Hercules as a paragon of masculine virtue,114 and the association of horses
with male virility. 115 The invitation to interact with the spaces and images of the Sala dei
Cavalli is an invitation to enact masculine virility and military prowess. The physicality
of the painted horses reminds the viewer of the Gonzaga family‘s fame as horse breeders,
warriors, and robust men.
Giulio‘s representation of the Gonzaga horses was not the first Sala dei Cavalli,
for at least two others had been commissioned by Federico II‘s father, Francesco, for the
palaces at Gonzaga and Marmirolo. Although these palaces were demolished in the
eighteenth century, a payment document for the decoration of the Sala dei Cavalli at
Marmirolo records that the horses there were likewise depicted in fictive architectural
setting against a landscape background.116 Unfortunately, it is impossible to know how
closely Giulio‘s Sala dei Cavalli resembles that at Marmirolo, but visitors to Mantua who
were taken to both the Palazzo del Te and Marmirolo comment upon the lifelike quality
of Giulio‘s horses, while they remain silent regarding those at Marmirolo. 117
While some of the horses at the Palazzo del Te seem static and posed, others turn
their heads towards the viewer and invite him to interact with the fictive spaces of the
room. Dario is perhaps the most lifelike: his glance is directed downward at the viewer,
114
Patricia Simons, "Hercules in Italian Renaissance Art: Masculine Labor and Homoerotic Libido," Art
History 31(2008): 632-64.
115
Cathy Santore, "The Tools of Venus," Renaissance Studies 11, no. 3 (1997): 192. Cf. pp. 191-192
below.
116
Molly Bourne, Francesco II Gonzaga: The Soldier-Prince as Patron, Biblioteca del Cinquecento, 138
(Rome: Bulzoni, 2008), 113-15; doc. 364.
117
In 1567 Jacopo Strada described the horses as ―ritratti dal vivo.‖ Stefano Davari, Descrizione del
palazzo del Te di Mantova, di Giacomo Strada, illustrate con documenti tratti dall'Archivio Gonzaga
(Mantua: Stab. Eredi Segna, 1904), 14. The 1904 book is an amplified version of the earlier "Descrizione
del Palazzo del Te di Mantova, di Giacomo Strada, illustrata con documenti tratti dall'archivio Gonzaga,"
L'Arte II(1899): 248-53, 392-400. In 1576 Blaise de Vigenère likewise noted that the horses were ―peints
au naturel.‖Blaise de Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée du très chréstien roy Henry III. De ce
nom, roy de France et de Pologne, grand duc de Lithuanie, etc. En la cité de Mantoue, avec les portraits
des choses les plus exquises (Paris: Chez Nicolas Chesneau, 1576), 8.
35
his muscles tensed to move, and his tail has just come to rest, perhaps after twitching at a
fly (Fig. 25). As with the other portraits, Dario seems to breathe, and a suggestion of
incipient movement is created through a slight angle of the head, and a play of light and
shade on the muscles. The horses gaze calmly at the viewer, with no apparent concern or
alarm. Their nonchalant poses and superior position in the room recall the hauteur of the
courtier‘s sprezzatura.
In conjunction with their naturalistic depiction, the fact that most of the horses are
identified by name gives them a claim to reality that is lacking in other depictions of
animals in the palace.118 The labels reassure us that these are real horses owned by
Federico II. However, not only are Giulio‘s horses images rather than flesh, in some
cases they are not even portraits. Morel Favorito is a depiction of a horse that died
several years before the Palazzo del Te was begun, yet he is one of the most lifelike (Fig.
26).119 The labels set up a complex relationship between viewer and image, for they
proclaim a physical presence which is noticeably absent. While the frescoes in the
Camera di Psiche depict an elephant, a camel, several tigers, and even a giraffe with
startling accuracy, these animals remain firmly within the room‘s painted fantasy world,
never threatening the boundaries between viewer and picture.120
118
Identifying labels for four of the six horses can be seen in Ippolito Andreasi‘s drawings or in the
frescoes. The base of one of the unnamed horses is trimmed by a doorway, even in the Andreasi‘s drawing,
while the second unnamed horse is on a wall for which Andreasi‘s record is not extant. The drawings are
published in Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:366-68.
119
Giancarlo Malacarne, Il mito dei cavalli gonzagheschi: alle origini del purosangue (Verona:
Promoprint, 1995), 147-57.
120
In an interesting side note, Giulio‘s depiction of a camel in the Camera di Psiche may have been based
upon a life study. Two letters from Federico II Gonzaga to his ambassador in Venice discuss a camel
presented to the marchese as a gift by an unnamed gentleman. The camel arrived in Mantua on 4 April,
1527, at the same time that Giulio and his assistants were at work in the Camera di Psiche. See ASMn, AG,
b. 2131, fasc. I, f. 67r and 79r.
36
The horses, by contrast, stand or sit in front of pilasters and ledges that, at first
glance, appear to be part of the architecture of the palace. 121 Like the ape in the Loggia
delle Muse, the horses regard the viewer from a space that appears to be coextensive with
that of the room. The Sala dei Cavalli is even more complex, for as in the façade, Giulio
Romano has created architectural recesses and protrusions which seem to threaten the
viewer‘s space even as they retreat into the distance. In both the façade and the Sala dei
Cavalli Giulio creates the illusion of architectural support only to contradict it. Like the
stucco pilasters on the façade, those in the Sala dei Cavalli only appear to serve an
architectural function. While they seem to support an architrave, that impression is
immediately belied by a frieze of vegetal designs and playing putti (Fig. 25). The putti sit
astride mustached masks with protruding tongues in a variety of poses, some lewd, such
as the putto who stands on his head and gestures towards his genitalia, others classical,
such as the putto in the pose of the Spinario. They mock the fictive architrave, their limbs
dangling over it to draw attention to its pretension to reality.
Like the monkey in the Loggia delle Muse, the putti ironically call attention to
Giulio‘s masterful artifice. Moreover, like the falling triglyphs of the courtyard, the putti
remind the viewer that the architectural structure in front him is simply an illusion: the
horses are not really in the room and the building is not actually about to fall down.
Giulio‘s fictive horses nevertheless assert a physical presence in the room, yet they are so
naturalistically depicted that his artistic performance appears effortless. In the ease of
their appearance in the Sala dei Cavalli, the horses ask the courtier to enact his own
naturalistic display of sprezzatura.
121
Gombrich, "Zum Werke Giulio Romanos. I," 92-94; Hartt, Giulio Romano, 112-15.
37
The Artifice of Love: The Camera di Psiche
In contrast to the faux marble and stone in the Sala dei Cavalli, in the Camera di
Psiche Giulio Romano used gold, pink and flesh tones to create a spectacle of opulence
and indulgence. The story of Cupid and Psyche unfolds on the ceiling frescoes (Fig. 27),
while the south and west walls are filled with a depiction of mythic diners in an arcadian
landscape (Figs. 32 and 33).122 The north and east walls contain scenes of mythical
lovers: Mars and Venus enjoy a bath, Bacchus lounges with Ariadne, Mars pursues
Adonis after he discovers the huntsman with Venus, Jupiter seduces Olympia, Pasiphae
dons a disguise to mate with a bull, and Polyphemus jealously watches Galatea and Acis
(Figs. 34 and 35).123 Between the upper and lower realms runs an inscription which reads,
―Federico II Gonzaga, Fifth Marquis of Mantua, Captain General of the Florentine
Republic, ordered this palace built for virtuous leisure after work to restore rest and
quiet.‖124 The inscription is often perceived as the Palazzo del Te‘s statement of purpose
as a building dedicated to Federico‘s private pleasure and relaxation. 125 However, the
early execution of the Sala dei Cavalli, a room intended for large gatherings,
122
The precise literary source for the banqueting frescoes has not been determined. Based upon the
narrative content of the ceiling vault and the presence of Cupid and Psyche on the walls below, Hartt
argued that the frescoes on the south and west walls depicted the wedding banquet of Cupid and Psyche.
Hartt, Giulio Romano, 131-32. However, the presence of Cupid and Psyche‘s daughter, Voluptus, at the
banquet, would seem to belie such an assertion. In contrast, Verheyen argued that the frescoes depict a
banquet on the island of Venus described in Francesco Colonna‘s Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (1499).
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 25-26. Yet, as Belluzzi has noted, there are discrepencies between the
Hypnterotomachia and the frescoes as well, most notably, the presence of satyrs and nymphs. Belluzzi, Il
Palazzo Te, 370. It therefore seems likely that Giulio, who was familiar with both texts, extracted narrative
elements that suited his composition, rather than basing his pictorial invention upon literary sources.
123
The first author to pursue a systematic iconographic identification of the frescoes was Hartt, Giulio
Romano, 126-35.
124
FEDERICUS GONZAGA II MAR[CHIO] V S[ANCTAE] R[OMANAE] E[CCLESIAE] ET
REIP[UBLICAE] FLOR[ENTINAE] CAPITANVS GENERALIS HONESTO OCIO POST LABORES
AD REPARANDAM VIRT[UTEM] QUIETI COSTRVI MANDAVIT
125
The most insistent proponent of this interpretation of the inscription is Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te,
25.
38
demonstrates that palace was intended to serve a ceremonial function from the outset. 126
The inscription should be understood as a self-aggrandizing statement on the part of
Federico, who wanted visitors to know that his military prowess was such that he
deserved an ample reward.
The rational architectonic order of the Sala dei Cavalli has been abandoned: the
banqueting scenes dissolve into deep landscapes, while the more amorous scenes appear
to hang on the wall as framed paintings and the ceiling frescoes are rendered di sotto in
sù. The Camera di Psiche offers multiple viewpoints, and multiple ways of organizing
space, which allows the viewer to visually explore the vistas of the wall frescoes and
marvel at the foreshortened bravura of the ceiling decoration. The room is smaller than
the Sala dei Cavalli, and its painted decoration is more overwhelming and more
demanding, as its structure ultimately conducts the viewer to the center of the room to
gaze upward at the unfolding story of Psyche. 127
The ceiling frescoes depict the story of Cupid and Psyche as told in the Golden
Ass, a classical narrative written in the second century CE by Lucius Apuleius. 128 Giulio
Romano would have been familiar with the story, for he assisted Raphael in the Loggia di
Psiche at the Villa Farnesina.129 However, Giulio represented the narrative in a dizzying
progression of lunettes, pendentives, and octagons. In contrast to Raphael, who imagined
126
Belluzzi and Forster, "Giulio Romano architetto," 326. Few documents mention the Sala dei Cavalli by
name, but it is generally assumed to have been finished in 1527; the Camera di Psiche was likely finished
in 1528 or 1529.
127
See also, Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:107.
128
Lucius Apuleius, The Golden Ass, trans. Jack Lindsay (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1962),
4.29-6.17.
129
Hermann Dollmayr, "Raffaels Werkstatte," Jahrbuch der Kunsthistorischen Sammlungen des
allerhöchsten Kaiserhauses zu Wien 14(1895): 231-363. Dollmayr attributed to Giulio Romano six scenes
in the Loggia di Psiche: Cupid and the Three Graces, Venus Setting Out in Her Chariot, Psyche Borne by
Zephyr with the Vase of Proserpina, Venus, Juno and Ceres, Psyche Presents the Vase to Venus, and Cupid
Before Jupiter.
39
the ceiling of the Loggia di Psiche as a hanging tapestry, and thus composed all the
frescoes as images parallel to the picture plane, Giulio Romano rendered the ceiling
frescoes di sotto in sù. He also progressively altered the angle of foreshortening
throughout the ceiling, so that figures in lunettes are represented parallel to the picture
plane, and at a three-quarters angle in the octagons, while in the central marriage scene
the figures are so steeply foreshortened that they truly seem to tower above the viewer on
a bank of clouds (Compare figs. 28, 29 and 30).
The ceiling frescoes are organized by a painted and gilded wooden armature that
frames the scenes and appears to provide a narrative order to the paintings, which in fact
is lacking. Not only do the ceiling frescoes at times appear out of order, but Giulio has
also included images which are not part of Apuleius‘ tale. 130 On the west wall, the three
lunette frescoes are mis-ordered: the scene of Psyche at the River Styx separates two later
narrative moments of Psyche in the underworld and Cupid‘s return to Psyche.
Additionally, Giulio has inserted an image of Psyche asleep in a wooded landscape and
spied upon by a lascivious satyr (Fig. 29). The fresco draws upon the iconography of a
nymph spied upon by a satyr, but is not included in the myth of Cupid and Psyche. 131
While scholars have proposed several explanations for the mis-ordered frescoes, the most
compelling is that of Daniel Arasse, who suggested that Giulio purposefully mis-ordered
130
Giulio‘s lack of narrative fidelity to Apuleius has bothered some scholars more than others. Hartt was
rather unperturbed, while Daniel Arasse made it the focus of his interpretation of the room. Hartt, Giulio
Romano, 130-32; Daniel Arasse, "Giulio Romano e il labirinto di Psiche " Quaderni di Palazzo Te 7(1985):
7-18.
131
D‘Arco believed the octagon depicted Psyche Comforted by Pan, which although greatly out of
narrative order, was generally accepted. Although Hartt noted that D‘Arco‘s interpretation was
problematic, he did not offer an alternative. Signorini proposed the identification with a satyr spying on a
nymph from the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili. D'Arco, Istoria, 32; Hartt, Giulio Romano, 130; Rodolfo
Signorini, "Two Mantuan fantasies: Lombardy in the image of a garden and an architectural vertigo. The
fortunes of the Hypnerotomachia in Mantua," Word & Image 14, no. 1/2 (1998): 200.
40
the scenes to create a labyrinth, a Gonzaga emblem (Fig. 31).132 The labyrinthine
composition of the ceiling would have required the viewer to visually and intellectually
engage with the narrative to demonstrate his ability to follow the correct path. The
frescoes therefore required a performance of courtly intellect and wit.
Apart from their visual appearance, the most persistent interpretation of the
iconography of the Camera di Psiche has described it as a space which celebrated the
amorous relationship of Federico II Gonzaga and his mistress Isabella Boschetti, with
whom he had a relationship from 1516 until his death in 1540. 133 Paolo Giovio records
that Boschetti‘s popularity at the Mantuan court was such that, for a time, she even
outshone Federico‘s powerful mother, Isabella d‘Este.134 Boschetti‘s influence at court
and Federico‘s prolonged bachelorhood have been understood as proof of the marchese-
cum-duke‘s deep romantic attachment to his mistress, which led him to construct the
Palazzo del Te as a place where the two could rendezvous away from the prying eyes of
the court.135 Given the similarities between the fable of Cupid and Psyche and the enmity
132
Arasse, "Giulio Romano e il labirinto di Psiche ": 10-15. In contrast, Verheyen suggested that Giulio
and the artists in his workshop may have misunderstood the iconographic program, which seems unlikely
given Giulio‘s previous experience at the Villa Farnesina. Verheyen, "Die Malereien in der Sala di Psiche
des Palazzo del Te," 47-48. Signorini proposed that the frescoes were mis-ordered to place visual emphasis
upon important narrative moments, which does not explain the secondary position of the fresco in which
Cupid returns to Psyche. Signorini, La 'fabella' di Psiche, 75-80.
133
For the beginning of their relationship, see a letter describing an impresa that Federico commissioned
for Boschetti In 1516, published by Peter Porçal, "Due lettere sulle imprese di casa Gonzaga. Contributo
alla prassi pre-accademica delle prime imprese italiane," Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in
Florenz 40, no. 1/2 (1996): 233. As late as 1537, Federico had commissioned a marble portrait bust of
Boschetti from the artist Alfonso Lombardi. The artist died before the work was completed. Willemo
Braghirolli, "Alfonso Cittadella scultore del secolo XVI," Atti e Memorie della Reale Accademia Virgiliana
di Mantova (1878): 124-25, doc. III.
134
Paolo Giovio, Dialogo dell'imprese militari et amorose di Monsignor Paolo Giovio Vescovo di Nucera
(Rome: A. Barre, 1555), 123-25.
135
See, for example, John Shearman, "Osservazioni sulla cronologia e l'evoluzione del palazzo del Te,"
Bollettino del Centro Internazionale di Studi d'Architettura A. Palladio IX(1967): 438; Verheyen, The
Palazzo del Te, 19; James M. Saslow, Ganymede in the Renaissance: Homosexuality in Art and Society
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986), 65; Shemek, "Aretino's Marescalco," 373; Timothy McCall,
"Traffic in mistresses: sexualized bodies and the systems of exchange in the early modern court," in Sex
41
between the two Isabellas, some scholars have seen a biographical element to Giulio‘s
frescoes. Isabella Boschetti is Psyche, the beautiful mortal who will be elevated by her
marriage to Federico. Isabella d‘Este is cast as the vengeful goddess Venus, who, jealous
of Boschetti‘s control over Federico, has forbidden their marriage. Federico, like Cupid,
wishes to give free reign to his heart. The frescoes of mythical lovers, leering satyrs and
available nymphs on the walls below provided an erotic environment that celebrated and
sanctioned Federico‘s feelings for Boschetti.
While no contemporary evidence supports this interpretation, it has enjoyed
widespread acceptance since it was first espoused by Giovanni Battista Intra in 1887. 136
Its most ardent supporter was Egon Verheyen, who expanded upon Intra‘s initial
arguments to posit the inclusion of a Boschetti Apartment at the palace, as well as a
biographical interpretation of the Camera delle Aquile and the Loggia di Davide. 137
Although the concept of the Palazzo del Te as a lover‘s rendezvous has been refuted by
Amedeo Belluzzi, 138 Verheyen‘s evaluation remains the standard for academic
Acts in Early Modern Italy: Practice, Performance, Perversion, Punishment, ed. Allison Levy (Burlington:
Ashgate, 2010), 125.
136
Intra, "Il Palazzo del Te," 70-72.
137
Egon Verheyen, "Correggio's Amori di Giove," Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes
29(1966): 160-92; ———, "Die Sala di Ovidio im Palazzo Te," Römisches Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte
12(1969): 161-70. Verheyen argued that Correggio‘s Loves of Jupiter hung in the Camera di Ovidio in the
Palazzo del Te, which made it a room dedicated to illicit love and therefore Federico‘s bedroom. He further
argued that similarities between the floor plan of the suite of rooms composed of the Camera del Sole e
della Luna, Camera di Ovidio, and Camera degli Imprese and Isabella d‘Este‘s appartamento in the
Palazzo Ducale were intentionally meant to herald Boschetti as la nuova Isabella. Cecil Gould vociferously
refuted Verheyen‘s argument regarding the placement of Correggio‘s paintings and stated that it was based
on assumption and hypothesis rather than evidence. Gould, The Paintings of Correggio, 130. The existence
of a Boschetti apartment was further refuted by Ernst Gombrich, who noted that the ground plans are not
identical, and that only someone touring the palace with a floor plan of both apartments in hand could have
noticed the similarities. Ernst H. Gombrich, "The Palazzo del Tè," The Burlington Magazine 122, no. 922
(1980): 71. Moreover, an inventory of the Palazzo del Te conducted after Federico‘s death in 1540 refers to
the Camera di Ovidio as ―la camera dove alozava messer Francesco Gonzaga.‖ Daniela Ferrari, Le
collezioni Gonzaga: l'inventario dei beni del 1540-1542 (Milan: Silvana, 2003), 66.
138
Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:68-69.
42
discussions of the Camera di Psiche. 139 While Federico may have wished to identify
himself with the god of love, and certainly would have enjoyed the allusion that his love
could deify a woman, interpreting the images as evidence of the marchese‘s private
desires is problematic. It seems unlikely that the politically astute Federico would have
wished to draw attention to the enmity between his mother and his mistress.
Moreover, the notion that the frescoes illustrate Federico‘s romantic love for his
mistress simplifies what was likely a complex exchange of political, economic, and
sexual favors. Helen Ettlinger‘s groundbreaking research on the roles of mistresses at
Italian Renaissance courts has shown that, while rulers might have several mistresses,
they carefully selected the prima favorita from amongst the local elite in order to forge
stronger relationships with families close to home. 140 Additionally, Renaissance princes
such as Sigismondo Malatesta and Pier Maria de‘ Rossi incorporated their mistresses into
decorative programs in order to further political agendas by depicting themselves as
chivalrous knights and eliding their control of the woman‘s body with their control of the
countryside. 141
References to Federico‘s relationship with Boschetti do, in fact, appear through
the Palazzo del Te in the form of imprese. Her device depicts a leggy putto standing
between two trees, one alive, one dead, which its inventor Paride da Ceresara explains
demonstrates that ―the life and death of the Lover depends on the Love of the piccola
139
See the recently published article by Sally Hickson, which uncritically accepts Verheyen‘s biographical
reading of the frescoes. Hickson, "More Than Meets the Eye," 41-47.
140
Helen S. Ettlinger, "Visibilis et Invisibilis: The Mistress in Italian Renaissance Court Society,"
Renaissance Quarterly 47, no. 4 (1994): 770-92.
141
Chad Coerver, "Donna/Dono: Chivalry and Adulterous Exchange in the Quattrocento," in Picturing
Women in Renaissance and Baroque Italy, ed. Geraldine A. Johnson and Sara F. Matthews Grieco
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 196-221; McCall, "Traffic in mistresses," 125-36.
43
boschaya‖ (Fig. 39).142 The impresa is often paired with Federico‘s salamander device,
which depicts the lizard amidst flames surrounded by the motto ―What it lacks torments
me‖ (Fig. 40).143 As a cold-blooded creature, it was believed that the salamander was
impervious to heat, even the flames of love. 144 The two imprese depict Federico as the
ardent lover of a woman who holds the power of life and death over him.
This kind of hyperbole was in keeping with a chivalric tradition in which the life
and honor of the knight depend upon the love of his lady. 145 Federico depicted Isabella
using the language of courtly love, wherein the lady bestows her favor in recognition of
the knight‘s military triumph, while his illicit possession of her body signifies his sexual
prowess.146 The Boschetti impresa portrays Federico as a chivalrous lover and knight
whose devotion to lord and lady is so passionate that he would die rather than dishonor it.
The device was used exclusively by Federico II Gonzaga, rather than by Boschetti
herself, indicating that the impresa was incorporated into Federico‘s personal
iconography, rather than that of his mistress. The erotic frescoes and passionate imprese
at the Palazzo del Te were not meant to refer to Federico‘s emotional attachment to
Isabella Boschetti. Rather, they are part of a program that celebrates Federico‘s masculine
virility and chivalry, thereby depicting him as a capable ruler and loyal servant.
142
―... in demonstratione che dallo Amore della piccola boschaya depende la vita et la morte del Amante.‖
Transcribed by Porçal, "Sulle imprese di casa Gonzaga," 233.
143
QUOD HUIC DEEST ME TORQUET
144
Frederick Hartt, "Gonzaga Symbols in the Palazzo del Te," Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld
Institutes 13, no. 3/4 (1950): 162, n. 4.
145
Toril Moi, "Desire and Language: Andreas Capellanus and the Controversy of Courtly Love," in
Medieval Literature: Criticism, Ideology, and History, ed. David Aers (New York: St. Martin's Press,
1986), 17-8.
146
Peggy McCracken, "Chaste Subjects: Gender, Heroism, and Desire in the Grail Quest," in Queering the
Middle Ages, ed. Glenn Buger and Steven F. Kruger, Medieval Cultures (Minneapolis: University of
Minnesota Press, 2001), 123-5.
44
The eroticism of the Camera di Psiche was not a depiction of private desire, but a
statement of Federico‘s control over Mantua and his loyalty to his political allies. It also
powerfully portrayed the virility of the marchese and created an atmosphere in which
courtly visitors could indulge their sensual appetites. In fact, Giulio Romano purposefully
heightened the eroticism of the images in the Camera di Psiche by depicting mythological
lovers as part of the physical space of the room. The three scenes of Bacchus and
Ariadne, Jupiter and Olympia, and Pasiphae and the Bull are framed as independent
paintings that hang over each of the windows (Figs. 36, 37 and 38). The fictive frames
separate the lovers from the other figures in the Camera di Psiche. Additionally, while in
the other scenes the walls are painted away, the painted frames serve the opposite
purpose, for they recall the fact that the wall supports the paintings. Moreover, the vast
panorama of the banqueting scenes is absent, and the framed lovers are contained with
shallow ledges of space with dark or gold backgrounds. The mythical figures are pushed
close to the picture plane, their forms starkly three dimensional against the flatness of the
background.
In each image the female figure violates the frame of the painting to invade the
viewer‘s space: Ariadne‘s dress drapes over the frame, while Olympia grips it in the
throes of her passionate encounter with Jupiter, and the tail of Pasiphae‘s cow suit curves
outward across it. The painted frames remind the viewer that the images are works of art,
while the illusionism of the women‘s bodies gives them a claim to physicality.
Iconographically, the scenes have little in common,147 but their visual similarity suggests
147
For the story of Bacchus and Ariadne, see Ovid, Metamorphoses, 8.173-82. Pasiphae is mentioned
several times by Ovid, in both the Metamorphoses and the Ars Amatoria, see Metamorphoses, 8.131-37;
9.736-41; Ars Amatoria, trans. James Michie (New York: Modern Library, 2002), 1.341-42. Jupiter and
45
unity, and art historians have generally argued that they were meant to serve as a
comment on the nature of love and lust.148 However, in addition to any moralistic or
allegorical message, the figures were surely meant to seduce the male viewer. The
sinuous forms of Ariadne and Pasiphae offer teasing glimpses of bare limbs, while the
frontal, nude figure of Olympia shown in the midst of the sex act with Jupiter satiates the
viewer‘s erotic desire.
The courtier becomes a voyeur who witnesses a sexual act that is both a painting
and a physical reality. Moreover, in Jupiter and Olympia the voyeuristic viewer is
reminded of the dangers of erotic vision, for Giulio has included the figure of Olympia‘s
husband, Philip of Macedon, whose eyes are put out by Jupiter‘s eagle as punishment for
his illicit gaze. The image plays an elaborate game with the viewer, for it elicits the very
action it implicitly condemns. Unlike the horses of the Sala dei Cavalli or the monkey of
the Loggia delle Muse, the mythological lovers do not illusionistically inhabit the space
of the viewer; they break the frame of the paintings to invade the space of the room. The
figures reach out of the paintings to seduce the viewer. They betray their deceptive
artifice, something which the courtier should avoid lest he experience a punishment akin
to Philip‘s.
Olympia are not mentioned by Ovid, but the story is recounted by Plutarch, Life of Alexander, trans. John
Dryden (New York: Modern Library, 1938), 802.
148
D'Arco, Istoria, 34-35; Hartt, Giulio Romano, 136; Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 345. In contrast,
Verheyen constructed a complex iconography based upon the existence of a drawing of Apollo that is
similarly framed. The drawing is clearly preliminary, and was never executed. Verheyen, The Palazzo del
Te, 26.
46
A Control of Contrasts: The Camera dei Venti and Camera delle Aquile
After the spatial complexities of the Camera di Psiche, the visitor progresses to
the Camera dei Venti, a room wherein complicated compositions are replaced by intricate
iconographies. On the ceiling the signs of the zodiac and the months‘ labors are depicted
in fresco and stucco, while painted tondi below show the effects of the constellations on
persons born under them (Figs. 41 and 42). Rather than a precise astrological chart of
Federico II Gonzaga,149 the frescoes generally depict the role of the stars in human
endeavors, and an inscription over the door declares that the viewer‘s fate ―depends upon
which stars influence you.‖150 Giulio must have been provided with a program for this
room, which Ernst Gombrich has shown was based upon the writings of the classical
authors Manilius and Firmicus Maternus.151 Unlike many of the other rooms in the
Palazzo del Te, the Camera dei Venti does not involve the viewer in the play between
fictive and physical space. The tondi are compositionally closed and the forms are
arranged parallel to the picture plane. No figure looks out of the painting to engage the
viewer, nor does any element of the fresco threaten the boundary between illusion and
149
Verheyen acknowledged that the room was not a horoscope or astrological chart, but maintained that the
depiction of gladiators under Federico‘s sign of Taurus referred to the marchese‘s status as a leader of men
in war. Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 27. However, gladiators did not lead battles, but were often slaves
who died in the arena for entertainment. It therefore seems unlikely that any of the images are meant to
comment specifically on Federico‘s fate.
150
DISTAT ENIM QVAE SYDERA TE EXCIPIANT
151
Ernst H. Gombrich, "The Sala dei Venti in the Palazzo del Te," Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld
Institutes 13, no. 3/4 (1950): 189-201. The identity of the humanist who composed the program cannot be
securely determined. Gombrich proposed the astrologer Lucius Gauricus, which was supported by Kristen
Lippincott, "The Astrological Decoration of the Sala dei Venti in the Palazzo del Te," Journal of the
Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 47, no. (1984): 216-22. Belluzzi proposed the humanist Paride da
Ceresara, who had been used by both Isabella d‘Este and Federico II to devise iconographic programs for
paintings and imprese. Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:119.
47
reality (Fig. 43). Perhaps Giulio understood that the viewer would need all his faculties
simply to unravel its iconography. 152
The Camera dei Venti comments upon the role of Fortune in the courtier‘s life,
which Castiglione acknowledges as a capricious and active force ―who rules everything
that happens in this world, and often appears to amuse herself by exalting whomever she
pleases, regardless of merit, or hurtling down those worthiest of being raised up.‖ 153 At
the center of the ceiling is the Mons Olympus device, which indicated that the faithfulness
of the Gonzaga allowed them to rise above the winds and storms sent by fate. Castiglione
likewise notes that loyalty to his lord will allow the courtier to win a good reputation and
the respect of others.154 Through devoted service, both Federico and his courtiers may
escape the vicissitudes of fate.
In contrast to the sobering message of the Camera dei Venti, the Camera delle
Aquile once again taunts the viewer with spatial games. Four giant eagles spread their
wings in the corners of the room and carry medallions in the claws from which ribbons
flutter. Stucco busts protrude from each wall, and stucco putti climb through the room on
vines to surround relief scenes of mythological lovers (Fig. 44). The ceiling fresco of
Phaeton‘s tragic fall to earth physically assaults the viewer, for Phaeton‘s downward
trajectory will soon bring him into the room (Fig. 45). Local legend identified the river
Eridanus, into which Phaeton fell, with the river Po, which ran through Gonzaga
152
Vasari, who visited the palace in the company of Giulio Romano, found the room so impenetrable that
he confused it with its neighbor, the Camera delle Aquile. Vasari, Lives, 2:129. Later sixteenth-century
visitors did no better. In 1567 Jacopo Strada described the tondi as depictions of the actions performed
during each of the twelve months. Davari, Descrizione del palazzo del Te, 24. Twenty years later, the poet
Raffaele Toscano described the room as a key to which stars were favorable and which were malevolent.
Raffaele Toscano, L'edificatione di Mantova (Mantua: Francesco Osanna, 1587), 26.
153
Castiglione, The Book of the Courtier, 55-56.
154
Ibid., 57.
48
territory.155 The dramatic composition of the fresco allows the courtier to not only
witness, but also participate in, the historic event.
The composition of the room further implicates the viewer in the action of the
ceiling fresco, for the architecture recedes from the viewer in a series of niches, while the
decoration forcefully asserts itself; stucco busts protrude outward from the walls and
Phaeton falls inexorably downward into the room. The architecture therefore seems to
vigorously thrust the painting into the physical space of the room. Vasari, who thought
that the fresco depicted the fall of Icarus, nevertheless noted its impact upon the viewer:
―it seems to be real and true, for in it one sees the fierce heat of the sun burning the
wretched youth's wings, the flaming fire gives out smoke, and one almost hears the
crackling of the burning plumes.‖156 The viewer is caught up in the tragedy of Phaeton‘s
fall to earth, yet the sense of pathos is disrupted by the overabundance of images in the
room.157 Each lunette contains six mythological frescoes; around the lunettes are smaller
tondi depicting putti, classical gods, and other mythical figures; four stucco plaques with
narrative scenes rest between the lunettes; harpies rest on corbels; putti wend their way
through the ceiling on grape vines. The viewer is prohibited from a singular focus on, and
identification with, Phaeton by the abundance of humorous, almost frivolous, decoration.
The Camera dei Venti and Camera delle Aquile both present the viewer with
intricate images and narratives that required discussion and explanation. Giulio allowed
155
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 28. Verheyen also includes a more complex biographical interpretation,
in which the room is a warning to Federico‘s illegitimate son, Alessandro, not to reach too high. However,
at one point during the completion of the Palazzo del Te, Federico appealed to Emperor Charles V to
legitimize Alessandro so he could succeed as the next ruler of Mantua. Stefano Davari, "Federico Gonzaga
e la famiglia Paleologo del Monferrato (1515-1533)," Giornale ligustico 18, no. 1-2 (1891): 49-50.
156
157
Hickson has made a similar comment on the sensory impact of the Fall of Phaeton. However, she does
not discuss the other images in the room, and the way that they mitigate the viewer‘s perception of physical
involvement in the fresco. See, Hickson, "More Than Meets the Eye," 48-49.
49
the viewer an experience of the forces of Fortune unmediated by spatial complexities in
the Camera dei Venti. The courtier can focus on deciphering the astrological meaning of
the frescoes and thereby gain control over Fortune by comprehending the images. In the
Camera delle Aquile Giulio contrasts the delicate stuccoes and mythological scenes in the
niches with a dramatic depiction of Phaeton‘s plunge to the earth. The courtier is
reminded that he should know how to draw attention to his virtues by setting them in
opposition to one another, as a good painter does when he assembles different elements
―in such a way that each one is brought out more sharply through the contrast.‖158 The
tonal clarity of the stuccoes and smaller frescoes is made brighter by the darker colors of
the Fall of Phaeton, and the immediacy of Phaeton‘s fall is brought forward by the
recessive architecture. Like the Camera delle Aquile, the virtuous courtier must practice a
careful study of contrasts.
Activating Desire: The Loggia di Davide
While the frescoes in the Loggia di Davide lack the spatial complexity of those in
the Camera di Psiche, they likewise explore erotic vision and its consequences (Fig. 46).
Moreover, the rather straightforward composition of the frescoes is contrasted by the
eastern façade, where Giulio combined heavy columns and pilasters with delicate
colonettes and blind niches with large, open arches (Fig. 16). The sense of movement in
the architectural elements would have been accentuated by frescoes of victories and
barbarians in the spandrels (Fig. 17).159 The victories contort their bodies as they reach
over the archways. Many of them stand upon slumped or cowering barbarians (Fig. 18).
158
159
50
The loggia opens out onto a bridge across the small fish pond and then to the gardens,
which were extensive, and filled with lemon and orange trees and possibly two
fountains. 160 Even in its current lackluster state, the green lawn draws visitors out into the
gardens where they are confronted by the triumphal arch of the garden façade (Fig. 47).
The broken rhythm of the colonettes disrupts the façade, and causes the eye to linger in
the spaces between them. The contrast between open space and structure would have
created greater depth than is now apparent. From the garden, the Loggia di Davide is a
vast, airy space which pulls the viewer back into the building.
The frescoes depict the biblical king‘s heroic deeds and his pursuit of Bathsheba.
Lunettes over the doorways to the Camera delle Aquile and Camera degli Stucchi
illustrate David‘s victory over Goliath, while lunettes over the entry into the central
courtyard show Federico II Gonzaga‘s arms flanked by David‘s defeat of a lion and a
bear. Smaller stucco and bronze reliefs depict other moments from the life of David. 161 In
the barrel vault above, three octagonal frescoes representing scenes from David‘s
relationship with Bathsheba are set amongst a floral bower (Fig. 46). As the ruler of a
small state caught between larger neighbors and foreign powers, Federico II Gonzaga
identified with David, and even commissioned coins and medals which paired his portrait
160
Little is known about the state of the gardens in the 1530s. Daniela Ferrari‘s invaluable two-volume
publication of documents relating to the life and art of Giulio Romano has shown that Federico lavished
attention on his gardens at the Palazzo del Te and Marmirolo. Ferrari, ed. Giulio Romano. Hartt suggested
that two drawings by Giulio Romano representing the Po and Mincio rivers were connected to fountains at
Palazzo del Te, but this is supposition. Hartt, Giulio Romano, 102. Belluzzi has convincingly argued that
Federico‘s grandson, Vincenzo I, added the grotta to the secret garden and installed fountains. Belluzzi, Il
Palazzo Te, 1:56-58. By 1628 when Gabrielle Bertazzolo completed his map of Mantua the gardens
covered almost the entire Isola del Te and included a labyrinth (Fig. 3).
161
The iconography of some of the stucco medallions remains under debate, but the scenes seem to
represent different sides of David: political, religious, militaristic, artistic, and sexual. For the current
identification of the scenes, see Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 2:377-81.
51
with images of the biblical hero playing his harp or slaying Goliath to celebrate his defeat
of Francis I of France at Pavia in 1522. 162
It is in the context of laudable masculine behavior depicted elsewhere in the
loggia that the vault frescoes of David and Bathsheba have troubled scholars. The three
octagons depict the Toilette of Bathsheba, David Spying on Bathsheba, and the
Drunkenness of Uriah, and therefore focus not only on David‘s desire for a married
woman, but his murder of her husband (Figs. 48, 49 and 50). Hartt limited himself to a
purely formal and technical analysis, while both Verheyen and Oberhuber have argued
that the loggia was a pictorial representation of Federico‘s military exploits, artistic
patronage, and passionate sensibilities.163 Instead, I would like to suggest that, like the
images of mythological lovers in the Camera di Psiche, Giulio Romano has depicted the
pleasures and dangers of erotic vision.164
In the Renaissance, Bathsheba was viewed as a dangerous seductress whose
power was so great that she caused the downfall of the most pious King David. 165 Giulio
Romano‘s depiction of the narrative does nothing to dispel such associations, and in fact
includes an extraneous scene, the Toilette of Bathsheba, to heighten the erotic elements of
the story (Fig. 48). The Toilette of Bathsheba as a scene separate from David‘s act of
162
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 32.
163
Ibid., 32-33; Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 367. Verheyen also added that the frescoes had a
secondary significance: like the frescoes of the Camera di Psiche, they depicted Federico‘s desire for his
mistress, Isabella Boschetti.
164
Sally Hickson has recently suggested something similar for the frescoes, which she sees as
―commentaries on the act of looking … [and] on the power of painting to seduce.‖ Hickson, "More Than
Meets the Eye," 52.
165
Eric Jan Sluijter, "Rembrandt's Bathsheba and the Conventions of a Seductive Theme," in Rembrandt's
Bathsheba Reading King David's Letter, ed. Ann Jensen Adams (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1998), 83.
52
gazing upon her in the bath is unusual, and perhaps unique, in Renaissance art.166 Giulio
visually likens Bathsheba to Venus through the inclusion of a mirror, held by an
attendant, before which Bathsheba preens. 167 Bathsheba‘s self-reflexive act signifies her
vanity, and suggests that she actively sought to tempt David.
While Bathsheba is clothed in the Toilette, in the central scene, David Spying on
Bathsheba, the Old Testament king, and by extension, the viewer, beholds her nude body,
expressed as a somewhat awkward serpentine figure that was no doubt meant to be
seductive (Fig. 49). The effects of Bathsheba‘s wanton sexuality are represented in the
final image where a drunken Uriah is taken away to die on the battlefield so that he will
not discover his wife‘s adulterous affair with David (Fig. 50). The depiction of an
inviting Bathsheba paired with an image of her unfortunate husband allowed the male
viewer to appreciate the tension between voyeuristic pleasure at the sight of a nude body,
and the knowledge that such acts could carry dire consequences. 168
In the Loggia di Davide, the invitation to sensual pleasure was heightened by the
gardens outside, which must have presented visitors with a lush and verdant landscape
permeated by the smell of citrus and flowers, and the sound of water falling from
fountains. Through ancient associations with Venus and the ithyphallic god Priapus,
Renaissance gardens were viewed as licentious, sexualized spaces wherein normal social
conventions were loosened.169 In a mock-imitation of classical poetry, Niccolò Franco
166
Elisabeth Kunoth-Leifels, Uber die Darstellungen der "Bathseba im Bade": Studien zur Geschichte des
Bildthemas 4. bis 17. Jahrhundert (Essen: R. Bacht, 1962), 34-49. Kunoth-Leifels surveys images of
Bathsheba in the bath from Medieval through Baroque art. The depiction of Bathsheba‘s toilette as a scene
separate from David‘s first view of her does not seem to have become widespread until the seventeenth
century, and then primarily in northern Europe.
167
Santore, "The Tools of Venus," 179.
168
Sluijter, "Rembrandt's Bathsheba," 76.
169
Terry Comito, The Idea of the Garden in the Renaissance (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press,
1978); Claudia Lazzaro, "The Visual Language of Gender in Sixteenth-Century Garden Sculpture," in
53
wrote a series of poems entitled Carmina Priapea (1541), in which the god Priapus
declares, ―in my gardens one can do everything he wants, for the manners of the palace
are not here.‖170 While the garden statuary of the Palazzo del Te has been lost, it was
quite common to include sculptures of female nudes represented in the venus pudica
pose, or, more suggestively, grasping full breasts. Such statues symbolized the fertility of
the garden,171 and allowed the male voyeur to enact his virility. Coupled with the sexually
charged images of Bathsheba, the garden setting of the Loggia di Davide invited the male
viewer to indulge his senses, yet also reminded of the dangers of intemperance.
On the Surface of Things: The Camera degli Stucchi and Camera degli Imperatori
After the open, pleasurable spaces of the Camera di Psiche and Loggia di Davide,
courtly viewers would have passed into the more austere Camera degli Stucchi and
Camera degli Imperatori. The Camera degli Stucchi is a severe room dominated by the
plastic presence of the walls, rather than by their disappearance. Stucco soldiers march
around the room, while classicizing and mythological stuccoes cover the barrel vault, and
Hercules and Alexander the Great recline at either end of the room (Fig. 51). The soldiers
recall relief sculpture, and are arranged in two registers, the upper containing figures on
foot, the lower those on horseback. Giulio‘s use of registers, parading soldiers, and
Refiguring Woman: Perspectives on Gender and the Italian Renaissance (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
1991), 78.
170
Franco was emulating a classical body of poems entitled Priapeia attributed to Ovid and his followers,
but he couples an erudite style with lewd, unpolished language. For example, the following lines of the
poem read: ―the cunt I call cunt, the cock, cock, and the ass, ass, and this is the correct way to speak.‖
Translated by David O. Frantz, Festum Voluptatis: A Study of Renaissance Erotica (Columbus: Ohio State
University Press, 1989), 106.
171
Lazzaro, "Visual Language of Gender," 80-83.
54
especially the relief method all strikingly resemble the Column of Trajan (Fig. 52).172 In
the Camera degli Imperatori a large ceiling fresco of Caesar Burning the Letters of
Pompey (Fig. 59) is flanked by two smaller medallions depicting the Continence of Scipio
and Alexander Placing the Iliad in a Casket and images of all’antica warriors.173 In each
corner a larger stucco impresa of Federico II Gonzaga is born aloft by putti (Fig. 53).
Both rooms combine military imagery with classical styles and narratives. The
Camera degli Stucchi depicts a generalized classical triumph, 174 which links military
success with victorious display. The more specific iconography of the Camera degli
Imperatori represents narratives associated with princely virtues such as magnanimity,
temperance, and patronage of the arts.175 Like the friezes of the Camera degli Stucchi, the
depictions of classical soldiers in the Camera degli Imperatori demonstrate the glories
and virtues of military pursuits. Together, the two classicizing rooms recall Castlgione‘s
admonition that ―the first and true profession of the courtier must be that of arms,‖ and
that victory and bravery are his aims, since ―once the reputation of the gentleman-at-arms
has been sullied by cowardice ... it remains defiled in the eyes of the world and covered
with ignominy.‖176 The rooms encourage courtiers to enact a masculinity based upon
172
This visual similarity was first noted by Vasari, who suggested that Giulio had actually reproduced the
friezes of the Column of Trajan. Vasari, Lives, 2:129.
173
Verheyen was the first to securely identify the iconography of the three narrative frescoes, see
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 36-37. Various attempts have been made to identify the warriors,
particularly by Hartt, Giulio Romano, 151; Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 36. However, Belluzzi has noted
that many of the figures are purposefully devoid of identifying symbols, and that only portraits of Julius
Caesar and Alexander the Great are identifiable. Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:441.
174
A series of engravings by Pietro Santi Bartoli published in 1680 with notes by Giovan Pietro Bellori
identified the iconography as the Triumph of Sigismund. Hartt refuted Bellori‘s interpretation and argued
that the friezes celebrated the triumph of Charles V. Hartt, Giulio Romano, 148. Oberhuber was the first to
propose that the stuccoes depict a general, rather than specific triumph. Oberhuber, "L'apparato
decorativo," 367.
175
Verheyen argued that the image of Alexander placing Homer‘s Iliad in a casket for safekeeping
represented the desire for fame. Oberhuber more convincingly maintains that the image represents princely
patronage of the arts. Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 36-37; Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 367.
176
55
military service tempered by justice and prudence. The frescoes and stuccoes lack the
intensity of the Camera di Psiche, the sensual appeal of the Loggia di Davide, or the irony
of the façade. Instead, the Camera degli Stucchi and Camera degli Imperatori represent
masculine gravità, a weightiness of image and demeanor that will protect the courtier
from attacks on his character and assist him in his performance of sprezzatura.177
The Camera degli Stucchi likewise continues the dialogue between illusory and
physical spaces, yet it does not do so through trompe l‘oeil effects. As its names suggests,
the Camera degli Stucchi was the only space in which Giulio eschewed painting and
relied only on stucco work to adorn the room. Ernst Gombrich argued that the Camera
degli Stucchi was Giulio‘s attempt to resolve the tension between architecture and
painting, for it is here that the picture becomes a part of the supportive wall. 178 In
addition, the figures in the Camera degli Stucchi call attention to the function of the wall
as pictorial support. Like the falling triglyphs in the courtyard, the relief work of the
stuccoes reminds the viewer of the basic architectural elements of the building. They
celebrate surface, rather than depth, and privilege physicality, rather than illusion. The
soldiers of the Camera degli Stucchi remind the viewer that his performance of courtly
values happens on the surface, and that it is both an illusion and physical reality that he
creates with every movement.
In contrast to his previous pairings of stucco and painting, in the Camera degli
Imperatori Giulio contrasted the flatness of painting with the three-dimensionality of
stucco. The central image, which depicts Caesar Burning Pompey’s Letters, is the only
177
178
Gombrich, "Zum Werke Giulio Romanos. I," 98-99.
56
ceiling fresco in the palace proper which is painted as a quadro riportato (Fig. 53).179 The
figures in the painted medallions and portraits of famous ancient Greek and Roman
heroes are likewise parallel to the picture plane. Only the stucco imprese assert a physical
presence, which suggests that it is Federico II Gonzaga who is celebrated for his virtues,
rather than the classical figures which are embodied in fresco. Giulio forgoes the trompe
l‘oeil effects that had characterized his pictorial approach throughout the palace, and
creates a sense of rigid order through the rhythmic spacing of the portraits and the
interlocking pattern of the ceiling. The emotional intensity of the scenes is communicated
through dramatic gestures and robust figures, yet the sense of distance between the
viewer and the frescoes is heightened by the quadro riportato technique. The classical
figures provide models for behavior, but do not impel action; the courtier must choose to
follow them. Moreover, the relative simplicity of the pictorial space in the Camera degli
Imperatori was an artistic choice. The architectonic and visual stability of the room
provides an even greater contrast to the turmoil of the Sala dei Giganti.
A Terrible Pleasure: The Sala dei Giganti
After the sedate depictions of virtue in the Camera degli Stucchi and Camera
degli Imperatori, the Sala dei Giganti assaults the viewer‘s senses with chaos and tumult.
At the ground level giants lie crushed, broken, and bleeding as fires consume the
collapsing buildings. Their faces are contorted in expressions of pain and terror and their
forms are heavily twisted (Figs. 57 through 60). Above this scene of earthly destruction
179
The vault frescoes in the Loggia di Davide are largely parallel to the picture plane, yet in David Spying
on Bathsheba the perspective is somewhat slanted so that the three sides of the octagonal frame of the
painting complete Bathsheba‘s hexagonal bath. The ceiling frescoes in the Camera di Attilio Regolo do not
exhibit foreshortening, but they are located in the small suite of rooms adjacent to the secret garden, and are
therefore separate from the palace.
57
the ancient gods sit on a ring of clouds which is surmounted by a glistening, white temple
(Fig. 61). Jupiter is revealed as the cause of the giants‘ predicament, as he hurls
thunderbolts down upon them. The other Olympian deities look on with expressions of
surprise and horror, gesturing wildly to the scene below or recoiling away from it.
Until recently, most art historical interpretations of the Sala dei Giganti focused
on the wrathful figure of Jupiter who rains destruction down upon those who dared to
threaten his supremacy. Jupiter‘s eagle, an emblem of both Charles V and Federico II
Gonzaga, sits in the temple above, which has led scholars to read the room as a political
homage to the emperor, and perhaps even a justification for the Sack of Rome in 1527. 180
The political element is certainly present, but this iconographic analysis of the frescoes
obscures the sensory impact of the room, an element that was clearly intended by Giulio
Romano and prized by 16 th-century visitors.181
Unlike every other room in the Palazzo del Te, and indeed most domestic spaces
in Renaissance Italy, the decoration of the Sala dei Giganti covers every surface. 182 The
wall, so emphatically present in the Camera degli Stucchi, is absent in the Sala dei
Giganti. The frescoes are seamless: corners are not visually indicated, and the transition
from the square base of the room to the sail vault is difficult to locate (Fig. 62). While
180
Hartt, Giulio Romano, 158; Chiara Tellini Perina, "La Camera dei Giganti: Fonti letterarie et
interpretazioni simboliche del mito," in I Giganti di Palazzo Te, ed. Carlo Marco Belfanti, Chiara Perina
Tellini, and Giuseppe Basile (Mantua: Sintesi, 1989), 25-41.
181
Paula Carabell was the first author to undertake a sustained analysis of the sensory impact of the room,
and was followed more recently by Sally Hickson. Carabell, "Breaking the Frame," 87-100; Hickson,
"More Than Meets the Eye," 41-59. For a refutation of Carabell‘s argument concerning the ability of the
Sala dei Giganti to fracture the subject, see n. 202 below. Hickson‘s concept of Epicurean visual pleasure in
the trompe l‘oeil frescoes of the Palazzo del Te is similar to my own evaluation, though I am not convinced
that Epicureanism was a motivating force in Giulio‘s working method. Moreover, Hickson argues that the
frescoes reflected a desire to elevate ―matter to spirit,‖ a Neoplatonic interpretation that has also been
proposed by Hartt. I would argue that Giulio is less interested in spirit than in matter, for his trompe l‘oeil
effects are calculated to have a sensory impact upon the viewer. Cf. Hartt, Giulio Romano, 136-39.
182
Andrea Mantegna‘s Camera Picta frescoes also cover all four walls of the room; yet, they stop several
feet from the floor and do not present a continuous narrative.
58
Giulio threatened the picture plane in the Camera delle Aquile and slyly broke it in the
Camera di Psiche, he eradicates it in the Sala dei Giganti. In contrast to earlier, more
playful transgressions, in the Sala dei Giganti Giulio violates one of the basic precepts of
linear perspective. In On Painting, Leon Battista Alberti advised artists to conceive of the
painting ―as an open window through which the subject to be painted is seen.‖183 The
very first thing that the artist establishes is the boundary between the viewer and the
painting. While it separates the viewer from the painting, Alberti‘s window also implies
that the space of the painting is continuous with that of the viewer.184 Moreover, the
perspectival system creates a space that is rational and comprehensible, and provides the
viewer with a sense of control over the image. 185
The effects of Alberti‘s theories can be seen Andrea Mantegna‘s Camera Picta,
located in the nearby Palazzo Ducale and completed some 60 years before the Sala dei
Giganti.186 On the walls of the room, Mantegna painted portraits of Lodovico Gonzaga
with his family members and courtiers (Fig. 63). Mantegna highlights the window artifice
by the inclusion of brocade draperies, pulled aside on the left to allow us a privileged
view of the Marchese and his family, but closed at the right to obstruct our view.
However, Mantegna also suggests that Lodovico and his court are actually seated in the
space of the Camera Picta: the decorative screen in the background mimics the marble
183
Leon Battista Alberti, On Painting, trans. Cecil Grayson (London: Phaidon, 1972), book 1, para. 19.
184
Starn and Partridge, Arts of Power, 90.
185
Erwin Panofsky, Perspective as a Symbolic Form, trans. Christopher S. Wood (Cambridge: MIT Press,
1991), 41. Panofsky argues that linear perspective constructs a rational space wherein viewers are offered
an abstraction from sensory experience.
186
It should be noted that throughout much of the sixteenth century the Palazzo Ducale was commonly
known as the Castello. However, for simplicity‘s sake, I have standardized the name. The Palazzo Ducale
is a vast complex, which includes the Corte Vecchia, Castello di San Giorgio, Domus Nova, and Corte
Nova, as well as the church of Santa Barbara. The Camera Picta is located in the Castello di San Giorgio.
59
revetment of the lower walls, and one courtier stands boldly in front of a supportive
pilaster.187
In the Sala dei Giganti the boundary between the physical space of the viewer and
the fictive space of the frescoes disappears, and the viewer therefore becomes an integral
part of the room.188 He experiences his own imminent destruction, for, as Giorgio Vasari
commented,
whoever enters that room and sees the windows, doors, and other suchlike things
all awry, and as it were, on the point of falling, and the mountains and buildings
hurtling down, cannot help but fear that everything will fall down upon him.189
In the 16th century the disquieting effect of the frescoes would have been completed by
the floor of the room, which Vasari tells us was composed of rounded river stones that
continued the painted illusion of the walls. 190 Like a cobblestone street, the floor would
have been physically unsettling, creating an uneven surface on which the viewer could
never find equilibrium. 191
In addition to the visual and physical sensations produced by the room, Giulio
Romano designed the Sala dei Giganti as an echo chamber. Visitors can hold covert
discussions by whispering in opposite corners of the room, an auditory trick which
impressed sixteenth-century visitors, who marveled that people could converse ―by
means of echoes.‖192 In addition to this playful aspect of the room‘s aural impact, Giulio
also intended to overwhelm the spectator. Whenever visitors speak above a whisper the
187
Starn and Partridge, Arts of Power, 92-93.
188
Carabell, "Breaking the Frame," 96.
189
190
Ibid. Today the floor of the room is composed of Venetian terrazzo in the form of a labyrinth, which was
added during 18th-century restorations by Paolo Pozzo. Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:237-38.
191
This unsettling aspect of the floor is also noted by Carabell, "Breaking the Frame," 89.
192
―...per via dell‘eco ...‖ In a letter written by Stefano Vinando Pigghe in 1575. Published by Giancarlo
Schizzerotto, Mantova 2000: anni di ritratti (Mantua: Cassa rurale ed artigiana di Castel Goffredo, 1981),
107.
60
Sala rings with sound. The effect is disquieting and confusing, for individual voices
cannot be separated from the din.
With the doors and windows closed and a fire blazing in the fireplace, visitors
would have been immersed in a sensory experience unlike anything they had ever
witnessed. Surrounded by images of death and destruction, physically unbalanced, and
assailed by thunderous sound, the spectator becomes one of the giants.193 Like a stage set,
the Sala dei Giganti provides an environment in which the courtier adopt masks and
personas appropriate to the circumstances. As actors, courtiers are invited to perform for
one another, and to enjoy the performance while they likewise marvel at Giulio‘s artistic
ingenuity. While Giulio Romano clearly intended to unsettle his audience and provoke
shudders of fear, like any good courtier, he also wanted to entertain and delight.
The fear inspired by the Sala dei Giganti is therefore meant to be pleasurable. In
this respect, Giulio draws upon Aristotle‘s conception of tragic theatre. In his Poetics,
Aristotle argues that one of the roles of theatre is to bring pleasure to its audience, and
that ―the pleasure that the poet should afford is that which comes from pity and fear
through imitation.‖194 In fact, it seems that Giulio‘s spectators interpreted the frescoes in
light of Aristotle‘s words, for Giorgio Vasari‘s comment regarding the terribilità of the
room echoes the Greek philosopher: ―Wherefore let no one ever think to see any work of
the brush more horrible and terrifying, or more natural than this one.‖ 195 Vasari praises
193
Verheyen argued that the Sala di Giganti is not actually threatening because the collapsing temple on the
northern wall falls away from the viewer. He therefore argued that the viewer immediately becomes a
spectator of the giants‘ punishment, rather than a participant. His analysis does not take into account
Vasari‘s account of the room, which clearly indicates an identification with the giants‘ plight. Verheyen,
The Palazzo del Te, 43.
194
Aristotle, The Poetics, trans. S.H. Butcher (London: Macmillan, 1929), 14.3.
195
Vasari, Lives, 2:132. See also Burns, "Giulio Romano, il teatro, l'antico," 241-42. Burns has likewise
argued that Giulio‘s work would have been understood in light of Aristotle, but without noting the close
rhetorical similarities between Aristotle and Vasari.
61
Giulio‘s work using the rhetorical framework of Aristotle: Giulio has made a room that is
pleasing because it is fearsome, and the fear inspired by the Sala dei Giganti springs from
its imitation of nature.
The Sala dei Giganti incites fear, but it is a fear that is meant to be enjoyed,
overcome and ultimately laughed at by the sixteenth-century viewer. Literary works such
as Ariosto‘s Orlando furioso and Rabelais‘s Gargantua show that the monstrous and the
terrible were meant to provoke fear as well as laughter.196 Baldus, a mockery of epic
poetry written by the Mantuan courtier Teofilo Folengo and much loved by Federico II
Gonzaga, tells the tale of Baldo, an unlikely hero. During one of his outlandish
adventures Baldo befriends Fracasso, a giant so large that ―No horse on earth could carry
him: each one he mounted flattened like an omelet.‖197 While in the Sala dei Giganti it is
the giants who are flattened, Giulio‘s frescoes and Folengo‘s poetry share a delight in
transforming the terrifying into something ridiculous.
In his discussion of wit and laughter in the Book of the Courtier, Castiglione
likewise notes that ―the source of the ridiculous is to be found in a kind of deformity; for
we laugh only at things that contain some elements of incongruity and seem disagreeable
through they are not really so.‖198 The bulging eye of the cyclops on the east walls seems
to truly protrude from the wall, and one can almost imagine the sound it will make as it
snaps out of his head (Fig. 64). On the north wall, one giant looks out relatively calmly as
he supports the painted structure of the room on his back, while another giant with a
196
Paul Barolsky, Infinite Jest: Wit and Humor in Italian Renaissance Art (Columbia: University of
Missouri Press, 1978), 138. Barolsky also likened the Sala dei Giganti to the work of Ariosto and Rabelais.
For a more complete discussion of the carnevalesque element of Rabelais, see Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais
and His World, trans. Helene Iswolsky (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1968).
197
Teofilo Folengo, Baldo, trans. Ann E. Mullaney, 2 vols. (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2007),
1:109.
198
62
giraffe-like neck falls into the water (Fig. 65). The exaggerated musculature and
contorted figures of the giants appear bizarre, even absurd, yet they are ultimately
pleasing.
Once the viewer has overcome his initial shock, the incongruities become
apparent and the underlying humor of the room is revealed. In light of the visual puns in
the Sala dei Giganti, Paul Barolsky has proposed that both Vasari‘s description and the
frescoes themselves were purely rhetorical, meant to mock and satirize rather than
terrify. 199 Instead, I would argue that Vasari‘s repeated use of words such as ―terrible‖
and ―fearsome‖ in reference to the Sala dei Giganti betray a fascination with the
pleasurable frissons of fear evoked by Giulio‘s creation. 200 The viewer was meant to feel
fear, not the true fear of mortal peril, but the pleasurable fear of surprise and turbulence.
Ultimately, the viewer was supposed to overcome his fear so that he could laugh at
Giulio‘s invention as well as at the reactions of his companions.
If, as art historians have asserted, the viewer is supposed to identify with the
Olympian gods in the vault above, he can only do so by controlling his fear. 201 He must
walk further into the room, for it is only at the center of the room that the courtier can re-
establish his visual dominance. In the vault above Giulio included not only the panoply of
Olympian gods, but also the temple of Jupiter, represented using linear perspective. The
visitor must stand directly under the painted dome to fully appreciate the masterful di
sotto in sù rendering of the temple. When he first enters the Sala dei Giganti, the
199
Barolsky, Infinite Jest, 138.
200
Vasari, Lives, 2:130-32. In the space of his description of the Sala dei Giganti, Vasari uses the terms
―terror‖ or ―terrible,‖ ―dread,‖ ―horrible,‖ and ―fearsome‖ a total of nine times. He also describes the room
as ―fantastic‖ and ―marvelous.‖
201
Hartt, Giulio Romano, 158; Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 53; Tellini Perina, "La Camera dei Giganti:
Fonti letterarie et interpretazioni simboliche del mito," 23-41.
63
spectator stops, arrested by the tumbling buildings and buried bodies around him.
However, once he overcomes his initial shock, he is drawn slowly, inexorably toward the
center of the room to look up at the carefully rendered temple above. At the center of the
room Alberti‘s controlling gaze is restored and the viewer once again asserts his
dominance over the chamber. The viewer‘s subjectivity is almost destabilized by the
dramatic changes in Giulio‘s perspective, but at the center of the Sala dei Giganti
pictorial order is re-established. The room becomes merely a representation, not a
perception.202
In mastering his fear the courtier changes roles from giant to god, from the
destroyed to the destroyer. The Sala dei Giganti provokes displays of masculine virtue
by calling upon the courtier to exercise his most basic and most important skill: that of
self-control. Castiglione advises that in order ―that to be praiseworthy and highly thought
of by everyone, and to secure the goodwill of the rulers whom he serves, the courtier
should know how to order his whole life and to exploit his good qualities generally.‖ 203
The courtier must be aware of his good qualities and know how to exploit them, while at
the same time hiding his deficiencies. All of the courtier‘s other skills, his proficiency at
arms, his gift for witticisms, even his calculated display of sprezzatura, are predicated
upon knowing and mastering oneself. He must exercise caution and self-control in order
to assure that his performance is pleasing and his virtue apparent.
202
Relying on Lacan, Damisch argues that perspective could create a deceptive reality that would
undermine the subject. In a similar vein, Carabell argues that the Sala dei Giganti brings about a union of
subject and object that could create pleasure as well as intense discomfort. Hubert Damisch, The Origin of
Perspective, trans. John Goodman (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1994); Carabell, "Breaking the Frame," 87-100.
However, as Christopher Wood has argued, pictures are never able to fully counterfeit one‘s own
perception. Christopher S. Wood, "Review of The Origin of Perspective and Le Jugement de Pâris by
Hubert Damisch," The Art Bulletin 77, no. 4 (1995): 81.
203
64
However, the action of the room is not resolved by the courtier‘s virtuous display.
While visual control of the Sala dei Giganti must be exercised from the center of the
room, acoustic control of the room occurs at the corners. The echoes, that feature which
16th-century visitors most remarked upon, can only be experienced if the viewer
relinquishes the visual center (Fig. 66). As the courtier oscillates between visual and
aural pleasure, he also moves between fear and laughter. In order to enjoy the auditory
aspects of the Sala dei Giganti, the viewer must step back, and again assume the role of a
giant: deformed, gruesome, and ridiculous, he can hold secret conversations, shout at his
companions, and laugh at their surprise. Yet, to fully appreciate the visual effects of
Giulio‘s invention, he moves once again to the center to reign supreme.
The Sala dei Giganti acts upon the viewer by presenting him with terrifying
images which he can ultimately dominate in order to draw from him a display of
masculine self-control. But the courtier also acts upon the room, moving between its
ocular and aural centers. In a society in which courtiers were expected to effortlessly
adopt roles suited to the situation, the Sala dei Giganti was constructed to elicit a master
performance. The room reminds the courtier that, like an artist, he is the creator of his
own personality. He must perfect his performance so that he can effortlessly oscillate
between grave matters and charming witticisms as the situation demands. 204 Likewise,
Giulio Romano‘s Sala dei Giganti requires that the courtier move between fear and
laughter as he moves about the room.
The Sala dei Giganti calls upon the viewer to engage fictive and physical spaces
in a way attempted by no other Renaissance structure. By erasing the boundaries between
viewer and image the room engulfs the viewer, making him a part of the action. The
204
65
perceived space of the viewer, the visual, auditory, and physical sensations of the room,
are the representational spaces of Giulio Romano.205 The viewer‘s experience of the
space is formed not through a tension between invention and reality, but through their
conjunction. The Sala dei Giganti is both terrible and humorous, a space which therefore
calls upon the courtier to distinguish between the two emotions and visually dominate the
room by first dominating himself. The courtier performs his masculine virtue by
mastering his fear, by controlling his physical and mental reactions in order to perceive
the visual wit of Giulio‘s giants. By implicating the courtier in the action of the room, the
Sala calls upon the viewer to craft his courtly persona at the same time it reveals that
persona to be a mere façade. For, like the frescoes themselves, the courtier‘s performance
is only surface deep.
Conclusion
At the Palazzo del Te, Giulio Romano created a building intended to provoke
dynamic interaction between viewer and image. The expressiveness of its architecture
and painting elicits action and reminds the courtier of the importance of visual display.
Moreover, the Palazzo del Te required the viewer to engage with its spaces in ways that
enacted masculine qualities, such as sprezzatura, wit, and self-control. Perhaps most
importantly, the dynamism of the Palazzo del Te attracted viewers and elicited praise,
just as the courtier had been directed to do by Baldassarre Castiglione. 206 Giulio created a
building that constantly shifted under the viewer‘s gaze, and which engaged the viewer in
205
Cf. Lefebvre, The Production of Space, 38-39.
206
66
a performance of courtly values, yet also reminded him of the artificial nature of such
performances.
The varied responses of the courtier to the Palazzo del Te enacted the same
protean qualities that Castiglione prized. As Wayne Rebhorn has argued, Castiglione‘s
courtier was a man who ―continually refashions his beautiful image to fit the myriad
scenes he finds in the great theatre of his world.‖207 The sharp contrasts of the palace,
from witty to serious, from licentious to virtuous, called upon the courtier to display his
many skills. However, the Palazzo del Te was more than simply a stage set; the
performative and multi-faceted nature of its architecture and decoration meant that it
acted alongside the courter. The building elicited the performance of masculine identities,
but also responded to them.
This chapter has examined the ways in which Giulio Romano constructed
representations of space that were perceived and experienced by courtly viewers. The
Palazzo del Te was implicated in the discourse of Renaissance masculinity, for its images
reflect ideal gender roles and incite courtiers to perform masculine virtues. The following
chapters will examine the ways in which specific individuals interacted with the palace
and its spaces. Visitors such as Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, King Henry III, and the
Gonzaga brides enacted a variety of gendered experiences at the palace, which in turn
influenced the conception and use of the Palazzo del Te by the Gonzaga dynasty.
207
Cf. Rebhorn, Courtly Performances, 29.
67
Chapter 2
Enter the Players
In the spring of 1530 the newly crowned Holy Roman Emperor, Charles V
Habsburg, visited Mantua as part of his tour of Italy. He was greeted with all the
pageantry that Marchese Federico II Gonzaga could muster: thousands of marching
soldiers and mounted knights in rich costume, booming artillery salvos, the fanfare of
tambourines and horns, and the welcoming shouts of the Mantuan populace. The
emperor‘s arrival was in many ways the inauguration of the Palazzo del Te, yet it came at
a time when the palace was not completely finished. It therefore offers a unique view of
the ways in which the palace influenced the performance of masculinity at Federico II‘s
court, and was as the same time shaped by the interactions between its inhabitants and
visitors.
This chapter will examine the ways in which Federico II and his visitors
experienced the spaces and decoration of the Palazzo del Te and the masculine identities
encoded therein. During the banquets, dancing, and learned discussions that took place in
1530 Federico II, Charles V, and other visitors interacted with the palace in dynamic
ways that enacted and produced masculine roles. The Palazzo del Te of 1530 was a
building under construction, and therefore its spaces and their interpretations were not yet
fixed. The gendered performances that took place in and around the palace during the
emperor‘s first visit did not simply respond to a pre-existing structure; they also affected
the form and function of the building it would become.
The 1530 performance of the Palazzo del Te also set patterns for the building‘s
use, some of which would remain in effect until the Sack of Mantua one hundred years
68
later. Firstly, ceremonial uses of the palazzo coincided with the arrival and entertainment
of foreign visitors; however, it was not used for internal Gonzaga ceremonies such as
funerals or ducal investitures.208 While the palace and its grounds served as a suburban
retreat for the Gonzaga family, its ceremonial use seems to have been almost wholly
confined to foreign diplomacy. 209
Secondly, on almost all occasions the ceremonial use of the Palazzo del Te
occurred in conjunction with visitors who were granted triumphal entries into Mantua,
that is visitors who were in some way also taking possession of the city. Banquets,
dancing or other entertainments were organized at the palace on the occasion of Charles
V‘s two triumphal entries in 1530 and 1532, as well as on the triumphal arrival of the
French King Henri III in 1574, and for all arriving brides marrying into the Gonzaga
family between 1582 and 1617. In contrast, the arrival of Barbara and Joanna von
Habsburg in 1565, and the 1585 visit of Japanese ambassadors lacked both triumphal
entries and any documented mention of entertainment at the Palazzo del Te. 210 Likewise,
festivities held in Mantua to celebrate the weddings of Gonzaga daughters to foreign
princes included neither triumphal entries nor festivities at the palace. 211
208
The well-documented funeral procession of Guglielmo I Gonzaga and the following investiture of his
son Vincenzo I make no mention of the Palazzo del Te. Federico Follino, Descrittione dell'infirmiti, morte,
et funerali del serenissimo signore il signor Guglielmo Gonzaga, III Duca di Mantova, e di Monferrato I.
Con quelle de le solenni cereimonie, fatte nella coronatione del serenissimo signore il signor Duca
Vincenzo suo figlio e successore (Mantua: Francesco Osanna, 1587).
209
Margherita Paleologa-Gonzaga, wife of Federico II Gonzaga, often went to the palace to ―pigliar aere
[take the air].‖ See, for example, ASMn, AG, b. 2934, libro (lib). 306, f. 47r and Ibid., b. 2526, f. 12r.
210
Barbara and Joanna stopped in Mantua in 1565 on their way to marry Alfonso II d‘Este and Francesco I
de‘ Medici respectively. For an account of their arrival and entertainment in Mantua see ASMn, AG, b.
2949, lib. 367, f. 29r-30. Japanese ambassadors newly converted to Catholicism by the Jesuits arrived in
Italy in 1585, and came to Mantua after their formal reception by the pope. See ASMn, A.G, b. 389, f.
385r-388v. Although the Japanese were given a tour of Mantua that passed by the Palazzo del Te, there is
no indication that they actually entered.
211
Anna Caterina Gonzaga married Archduke Ferdinand II in 1582, and despite the fact that the Palazzo del
Te had been used the year previously during the wedding festivities of Margherita Farnese and Vincenzo
Gonzaga, there is no mention of the palace in any of the remaining documents. See, ASMn, AG, b. 2617, f.
69
There are only two exceptions to this rule, both of which included triumphal
entries, but for which there are no mentions of the Palazzo del Te. The first is the 1549
visit of Charles V‘s son, Philip, for which a triumphal entry was staged, though no
documents make mention of the Palazzo del Te.212 This omission is likely due in part to
the fact that Philip was visiting as the son of a ruler, rather than a ruler in his own right,
as well as to the drastically reduced court life in Mantua under the control of Cardinal
Ercole Gonzaga.213 The second is the 1598 arrival of Margaret of Austria, who was on
her way to marry Philip III of Spain. Unlike Philip II, whose visit seems to have been
celebrated in a rather perfunctory manner, Margaret was treated to fireworks, dances,
hunting, and theatrical performances.214 However, like the Austrian princesses Barbara
and Joanna, Margaret stopped in Mantua not as its feudal overlord or its future duchess,
but as a woman on her way to be married. Neither Philip II nor Margaret were presented
with keys to the city upon the arrival, indicating that they were not regarded as rulers of
the city.
From the beginning, then, the Palazzo del Te functioned as a site of interchange
between the Gonzaga dynasty and those foreign visitors to whom they were most
intimately connected, either as feudal overlords or through marriage alliances. Its images
229r-230v. In 1622 grand festivities were organized in Mantua for the wedding of Eleonora Gonzaga and
Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand II, but none of the banquets, dances or other ceremonies occurred at the
palazzo. Gabriele Bertazzolo, Breve relatione dello sposalitio fatto dalla serenissima principessa Eleonora
Gonzaga con la sacra cesarea maestà di Ferdinando II imperatore et appresso delle feste et superbi
apparati fatti nelle sue imperiali nozze così in Mantova come anco per il viaggio fino nella città di Inspruk
(Mantua: Aurelio and Lodovico Osanna, 1622).
212
Alonso de Santa Cruz, Crónica del emperador Carlos V, 5 vols. (Madrid: Imprenta del Patronato de
Huérfanos de Intendencia é Intervencin Militares, 1925), 5:253-63. ASMn, AG, b. 2941, lib. 334, f. 92r.
213
Ercole Gonzaga, Ferante Gonzaga and Margherita Paleologa were named tutors to the young Francesco
III Gonzaga after Federico‘s death in 1540. Ercole moved quickly to reduce the bloated Gonzaga court
expenditures, the consequence of which was a much smaller and less grand Mantuan court during the
middle of the 16th century. Leonardo Mazzoldi, ed. Mantova: La Storia, 5 vols. (Mantua: Istituto Carlo
d'Arco per la Storia di Mantova,1961), 2:310-11.
214
Ferrante Persia, Relatione de' ricevimenti fatti in Mantova alla Maestà della Regina di Spagna del
Serenissimo Signor Duca, l'Anno MDXCVIII del mese di Novembre (Mantua: Stampatore Camerale, 1598).
70
glorified the Gonzaga dynasty, depicting and enacting an ideal princely masculinity in
which Gonzaga erudition, moral fiber and military strength took center stage. The
interactions between viewer, image and space meant that visitors participated in the
construction of ideal masculine types, even as they saw them reflected on the walls of the
palace. Dynamic interchanges between masculinity, dynasty and space are what made the
Palazzo del Te such an important monument in Gonzaga ceremonial life.
Staging the City
Charles V arrived in Mantua on 25 March, 1530, a little more than a month after
his coronation by Pope Clement VII in Bologna. 215 His visit was meant to cement the
political alliance between Charles V and his vassal and military commander, Federico II
Gonzaga, who allowed imperial troops to march freely through Mantuan territory on their
way to Rome in 1527.216 In exchange for his loyalty, Charles V elevated Federico to the
status of duke, a long-awaited political and social triumph for the Gonzaga family. 217 For
Federico II the imperial visit was not only an occasion to celebrate the rising Gonzaga
fortunes, but also a representation of magnificence and splendor that would impress his
new status upon visiting Italian and foreign dignitaries as well as nobles within his own
court.
The Gonzaga courtier and chronicler Luigi Gonzaga of Borgoforte recorded the
arrival and stay of Charles V in Italy, providing an account of the emperor‘s activities
215
For the coronation of Charles V see Roberto Righi, Carlo V a Bologna: cronache e documenti
dell'incoronazione: 1530, Collana di cronache bolognesi d'epoca medioevale, moderna e contemporanea, 4
(Bologna: Costa, 2000).
216
Mazzoldi, ed. Mantova: La Storia, 2:289-95.
217
The diploma granting Federico II Gonzaga the title of Duke of Mantua was signed on April 8, 1530.
Leopoldo Cammillo Volta, Compendio cronologico-critico della storia di Mantova dalla sua fondazione
sino ai nostri tempi, 5 vols. (Mantova: Agazzi, 1827), 352.
71
from his arrival in Genoa to his departure from Gonzaga territory.218 While the Cronaca
recounts Charles‘s visits to the Gonzaga palace at Marmirolo, his attendance of mass at
various Mantuan churches and monasteries, and his numerous hunting expeditions, the
visit to the Palazzo del Te is second in importance only to the triumphal entry staged
upon his arrival. Additionally, the detail with which Luigi Gonzaga describes the events
at the Palazzo del Te suggests that he was present for the banquets, dancing, and
conversation that took place there.219
Charles V entered through the Porta della Pradella, where he was presented with
the keys to the city. After returning them to Federico II, the emperor followed the
traditional processional route that wended past the Church of San Giacomo (now
destroyed), through the Porta della Guardia, and into the piazza of San Pietro. 220 After
visiting the cathedral briefly, the emperor was conducted across the piazza and into the
Palazzo Ducale, where he was staying for the duration of his visit (Fig. 67).221 Giorgio
Vasari relates that in his capacity as superintendent of the streets and buildings of
Mantua, Giulio Romano oversaw the design and construction of the classicizing
decorations which greeted the emperor.222 Triumphal arches were erected at San
Giacomo and at the Porta della Guardia, while a column topped by Victory, statues
218
Gonzaga, Cronaca. The manuscript is unsigned, but is universally accepted as the work of Luigi
Gonzaga.
219
Other sections of the Cronaca are less specific, indicating that these events were likely related to the
author second-hand. For example, details regarding a banquet held at the Gonzaga palace of Marmirolo are
sparse. See Ibid., 255-6.
220
This was the same route used by Isabella d‘Este when she entered Mantua as the bride of Francesco I
Gonzaga in 1490. Federigo Amadei, Cronaca universale della città di Mantova, ed. Ercolano Marani
Giuseppe Amadei, Giovanni Practicò 5vols. (Mantua: C.I.T.E.M., 1745; reprint, 1955), 2:283.
221
For the entry of Charles V see, Gonzaga, Cronaca, 241-50.
222
Vasari, Lives, 2:134. Vasari notes that "For the entry of the Emperor Charles V into Mantua, Giulio, by
order of the Duke, made many most beautiful festive preparations in the form of arches, scenery for
dramas, and a number of other things." Vasari does not specific whether these apparati were produced for
the emperor‘s 1530 or 1532 entry, but it seems likely that Giulio was in charge of the decorations for both
occasions.
72
personifying Peace overcoming War, and other apparati had been organized in the piazza
of San Pietro.223
The Renaissance triumphal entry united two long-lived traditions: the classical
Roman triumph and the medieval royal entry. 224 While the arches, statues and
inscriptions employed in the Renaissance triumph made use of classical iconography, the
composition of the procession, which placed the king under a canopy attended by nobility
and knights and the clergy and followed by civic and guild representatives, was medieval
in character.225 In addition, the procession activated the city and transformed it into a
stage wherein participants enacted social and political relationships. 226 Triumphal entries
had been held in Italy before the arrival of Charles V; however, the revival of the Roman
Empire that Charles represented allowed artists, humanists, and Italians princes to fully
deploy the classical language of the entry.227
For Giulio Romano, the emperor‘s entry was a further opportunity to exploit his
intimate knowledge of Rome and its ruins. Giulio‘s mastery at planning and executing
triumphal entries is attested to by Vasari, as well as by the fact that he was invited to
organize triumphal festivities in Milan in 1541. 228 Only two drawings remain of what
must have been a vast quantity of stucco statues, arches, inscribed plaques, and elaborate
223
Gonzaga, Cronaca, 242-3.
224
Bonner Mitchell, "The Triumphal Entry as Theatrical Genre in the Cinquecento," Forum Italicum 14,
no. 3 (1980): 410.
225
Roy C. Strong, Art and Power: Renaissance Festivals 1450-1650 (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1984), 7.
226
The concept of the city as a stage and its inhabitants as actors was first proposed by Richard C. Trexler,
Public Life in Renaissance Florence (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1980), 9-43. See also, James M.
Saslow, The Medici Wedding of 1589: Florentine Festival as Theatrum Mundi (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1996), 12-16; 148-73; Iain Fenlon, The Ceremonial City: History, Memory and Myth in
Renaissance Venice (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2007), 85-127.
227
Strong, Art and Power, 74.
228
For Vasari‘s comments cf. n. 222 above. For an account of Charles V‘s entry into Milan, including
woodcuts of some of the arches designed by Giulio Romano, see Giovanni Alberto Albicante, Trattato
del'intrar in Milano di Carlo V.C. sempre aug.: con le proprie figure de li Archi, & per ordine, li nobili
vassalli & prencipi & signori cesarei (Mediolani: Apud Andream Caluum, 1541).
73
costumes designed by Giulio for the emperor‘s arrival in 1530. The first almost certainly
depicts the statue of Victory located atop the column in the main piazza (Fig. 68).229 As
in Luigi Gonzaga‘s description, she ―wears the dress of a woman and two large wings,
and appears as if she wants to fly to the earth with a large crown of laurel in her hand,
which it appears that she wants to place on the head of His Imperial Majesty.‖230 In
Giulio‘s drawing Victory seems about to alight from the column: she stands on tiptoe, her
classical garment billows out behind her, and her arms are outstretched to place the laurel
crown upon the emperor‘s head.
The second drawing likewise depicts Victory in similar costume and with the
same hairstyle, but now she is seated and in the act of writing Charles V‘s name on a
shield (Fig. 69). At her feet is what appears to be the breastplate of a classically inspired
suit of armor. Unlike the previous drawing, this image is not mentioned by Luigi
Gonzaga, but was surely intended as a preparatory drawing for one of the many stucco
statues that adorned the triumphal arches. 231 Together, Giulio‘s drawings of Winged
Victory with a Crown of Laurel and Victory Inscribing the Name of Charles V on a Shield
provide a glimpse of the kinds of imagery that were used to greet the emperor, and which
therefore set the tone of his visit to Mantua. Charles saw himself included amongst the
panoply of Holy Roman Emperors, as a victorious conqueror, and as a peace-bringer.232
229
This drawing is universally accepted as depicting the winged Victory in piazza of San Pietro. See Hartt,
Giulio Romano, cat. no 294; Bruno Adorni, "Apparati effimeri urbani e allestimenti teatrali," in Giulio
Romano ed. Manfredo Tafuri (Milan: Electa, 1989), 498-9.
230
―... la Vittoria fatta in habito di donna vestita con doi grandi ale, che parea volesse volare a terra con
una corona di lauro in mano, la quale parea volerla ponere sopra al capo di sua M. tà Ces.a...‖ Gonzaga,
Cronaca, 243-4.
231
Not all scholars agree that this drawing was produced as part of the apparati for Charles V. Hartt argued
that drawing was a preparatory sketch for the Camera degli Stucchi. However, Verheyen noted differences
between the Camera degli Stucchi relief and the sketch, and was the first to link the drawing to the entry of
Charles V. Hartt, Giulio Romano, cat. no. 199; Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 124-5.
232
Gonzaga, Cronaca, 242.
74
Coupled with the many salvos from the Gonzaga artillery, the triumphal apparati
communicated the imperial ideal of peace through military conquest.233
In many ways Giulio functioned as a set designer, creating a city-wide stage upon
which Charles V and Federico II would enact their political and social relationship. While
Giulio Romano‘s triumphal entry was an ephemeral depiction of Charles V as the ideal
emperor, the Palazzo del Te created a lasting image of Federico II Gonzaga as the ideal
prince. The spaces of the palace reflect the values that Baldassarre Castiglione expected
from any elite male, and which were embodied by Federico II: prudence, chivalry,
physical prowess, intellectual wit, and noble lineage. At the same time, the Palazzo del
Te allowed its visitors to perform the values it depicted: Charles V showcased his wit in
his examination of the Camera dei Venti, his chivalry in his appreciation of the Camera di
Psiche, and his grace and strength in the Sala dei Cavalli.
Approaching the Palace
Federico II, Charles V, and their entourage rode toward the Palazzo del Te from
the city center, through the Porta Pusterla, which defined the edges of Mantua, and onto
the Isola del Te (Fig. 2). The gardens and surrounding fields on the island must have
seemed like immense open spaces after the crowded, close streets of the medieval city.
The palace sat near the edge of the island, its façade dazzling white, its appearance
magnified by the reflection in the water.234 Contrasting visual elements communicated
diverse courtly messages: the rusticated portals which bristle outward reflect Federico
II‘s robust strength, the use of the Doric order demonstrates his classical learning, while
233
Amedeo Belluzzi, "Carlo V a Mantova e Milano," in La città effimera e l'universo artificiale del
giardino, ed. M. Fagiolo (Rome: 1980), 49-50.
234
The porta del Te, which would have somewhat obstructed the view, was not constructed until after 1530.
Manfredo Tafuri, "La porta del Te," in Giulio Romano, ed. Manfredo Tafuri (Milan: Electa, 1989), 380-3.
75
the elegant metopes above contain Gonzaga imprese and chivalrous devices (Fig. 9). The
variety of the façade and the wit necessary to appreciate it are visual expressions of
sprezzatura, conveying both the superior nonchalance of Federico II, as well as allowing
his visitors to enact their own courtly virtue. The façade elicited the viewer‘s
participation, because only through a performance of classical learning and courtly
sophistication could he have penetrated the layers of illusion. Through his performance of
these virtues, Charles V demonstrated his adherence to masculine gender norms, while at
the same time reproducing and reinforcing such practices.
The façade therefore set the tone for Charles V‘s visit, in that it speaks to the ideal
princely qualities of Federico II, while at the same time eliciting a performance of those
qualities from its visitors. As he moved through the palace Charles V encountered spaces
which likewise depicted and provoked displays of masculinity. The events organized to
entertain the emperor in 1530 were set against the backdrop of the palazzo‘s masculine
spaces, and forged a connection between space and performance that would shape the
form and function of the Palazzo del Te for the next century.
During his initial tour of the palace, Luigi Gonzaga tells us that Charles V went
first to the Sala dei Cavalli, and then to the Camera di Psiche, Camera dei Venti, Camera
della Aquile, the as yet-unfinished Loggia di Davide, and finally to the gardens. He
praised all of these spaces, though he clearly admired the Camera di Psiche the most, as
he remained there ―for more than half an hour contemplating it and praising everything
immensely.‖235 After his preliminary circuit of the palazzo, the entertainment began.
Charles dined in the Camera di Psiche, where Federico II was allowed to present Charles
235
― … più di mezz‘hora a contemplare, ogni cosa laudando sommamente.‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 262.
76
V with the napkin to dry to his hands. 236 Afterward the emperor, the marquis, and many
other princely visitors engaged in conversation until the emperor declared his desire to
play tennis.237 The group played for several hours, after which the emperor was taken to
see the famous Gonzaga stables. Charles V was treated to a display of Gonzaga
horsemanship, and Federico presented the emperor with two of the prized stallions as a
gift.238
As afternoon turned into evening, the ladies arrived and dancing began in the Sala
dei Cavalli. The dancing broke for a grand banquet, during which Charles V ate in
seclusion in the Camera di Psiche, accompanied only by Cardinals Cibo and Medici. 239
The infamous Habsburg jaw made it impossible for the emperor to completely close his
mouth, and thus made eating and drinking a rather embarrassing affair. For this reason,
Charles V habitually dined alone, or with a few chosen companions.240 Perhaps because
of his lack of conversational companionship, Charles finished before the other banqueters
and went to the Camera dei Venti with Cardinal Cibo, who explained the room and its
decoration to the emperor.241 The emperor then singled out a certain Livia Cathabena da
Gonzaga, and talked with her for more than half an hour.242 Afterward, he returned to the
dancing, and when the party finally decided to return to the castle to sleep they were
236
As a rule, banquets began with ritualized hand-washing. Federico‘s act of presenting the napkin to
Charles V signified the marchese-cum-duke‘s status as loyal vassal to the emperor. Roy C. Strong, Feast: A
History of Grand Eating (Orlando: Harcourt, 2002), 105.
237
238
Ibid., 264.
239
Ibid., 265-6.
240
W. C. Grabb et al., "The Habsburg Jaw," Plastic and Reconstructive Surgery 42, no. 5 (1968): 442-45.
241
242
Ibid., 267. Little is known about Livia Cathabena da Gonzaga. Luigi Gonzaga simply relates that ―His
Majesty conversed with Signora Livia for more than half an hour; and because she did not understand what
he was saying, she asked the most Reverend Cardinal Cibo, who served as interpreter between His Majesty
and she.‖ [… et per più di mezz‘hora sua M.tà Ces.a ragionò con essa S.ra Livia; et perchè essa male
intendeva sua M.tà quale parlava, addimandò il R.mo Car.le Cibo, quale era interprete fra sua M.tà et lei…]
77
escorted with thousands of blazing torches, which ―made the night seem to change into
day.‖243
Luigi Gonzaga‘s account of the emperor‘s sojourn at the Palazzo del Te highlights
the interconnectedness of the building and the gendered activities which occurred within
it. The entertainments arranged for the emperor and his entourage were calculated to
present the Gonzaga dynasty as princes whose masculine vigor, wit, and virtue gave them
the right to rule Mantua as dukes. At the same time, the Gonzaga also arranged events
and spaces to coincide in ways that encouraged the emperor to participate in the creation
of courtly masculinity.
A Robust Nature
The most rigorous activities organized by Federico II took place in the gardens of
the Palazzo del Te. Tennis matches and horseback riding provided opportunities for the
enactment of social hierarchies and the performance of masculine gender roles, as well as
for recreation. The vast gardens of the palace contained exotic fruit trees and fountains, as
well as a ball court and the famous Gonzaga stables. As a space that showed the Marquis-
cum-Duke‘s ability to control and shape nature, the gardens were also an ideal place in
which to stage activities which demonstrated the courtier‘s control over his body.
After a light lunch, the emperor declared that he would like to play tennis, and so
the company adjourned to the tennis court where the emperor chose teams from among
his own entourage and that of Federico II.244 Luigi Gonzaga records that the emperor
243
―… che pareva la note fusse conversa in giorno.‖ Ibid.
244
―... sua M.tà disse di volere andare ad iocare alla baletta ... Dopoi molti ragionamenti sua M. tà fece una
partita ad questo modo: lei et Mons.r di Balasone da una banda, et dall‘altra il Principe di Besignano et
Mons.r di la Cueva, spagnolo, M.ro di Casa di sua M.tà.‖ Ibid., 263.
78
played and ―knew the game extremely well,‖ but that at the end of the game, Charles had
lost sixty scudi. 245 Tennis was among the recreational games most favored by
Castiglione, for it allowed the courtier to show ―how well he is built physically, how
quick and agile he is in every member,‖ and allows him to impress the crowd with his
skillful command of his body.246 Tennis was the ideal way to showcase the male
physique, as well as the courtier‘s control over his body. The game not only allowed the
emperor to stage his loss as a show of liberality to Federico II and his court, it also
afforded the players the opportunity to exhibit their stamina, agility, and robust
physicality.
In addition to displays of the masculine body, the outdoor activities at the Palazzo
del Te included a demonstration of Gonzaga horsemanship. Two courtiers entered the
garden astride large war horses from the Gonzaga stables and performed a series of
exercises for the emperor. While Charles V watched from the shelter of the east façade of
the palace, the riders advanced their mounts ―with jumps as high as the height of the
horses.‖247 Horsemanship was regarded as a necessary masculine skill, as well as a way
for the courtier to display his abilities. Castiglione advises that the courtier should ―be an
accomplished and versatile horseman and ... he should put every effort and diligence into
surpassing the rest just a little in everything, so that he may always be recognized as
superior.‖248 For the Renaissance courtier, horsemanship was not simply a utilitarian
skill. By controlling his horse and leading it through complex exercises he demonstrated
his masculine authority and ability to command others, and therefore his superiority over
245
―... sua M.tà ... assai ne sa di tal gioco.‖ He also notes that the players wagered 60 scudi a game, meaning
that the emperor lost three games. Ibid.
246
247
―... con salti tant‘alti quanto l‘altezza delli cavalli.‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 264.
248
79
those incapable of such feats. The riding expertise of the courtiers and the agility of their
mounts displayed the pre-eminence of the Gonzaga stables, their court, and their dynasty.
After the riders had finished their show, Federico II presented both of the horses
to Charles V as a gift. This was certainly not the first time Federico had given horses to
the emperor, and in fact the Gonzaga princes shrewdly used their horses as diplomatic
gifts to ruling houses all over Europe, even including the Ottoman sultans. 249 In the
Renaissance, gifts were an important element of the patronage structure, as they forged
bonds of obligation between persons, families, and territories. 250 In addition to their
diplomatic function, gifts were a sign of princely liberality, a concept which united ideas
of hospitality, largess, and generosity. 251 In fact, throughout his Cronaca Luigi Gonzaga
is at pains to emphasize Federico‘s liberality, repeatedly stating that ―everything was
done at the expense of the Marquis.‖252 As a gift, the horses were a physical
manifestation of Federico‘s liberality meant to incur obligation and curry favor with the
emperor.
Like their owners, the Gonzaga horses were pure of blood, bred from the best
European and eastern stock in order to produce superior specimens. 253 The horses
therefore recall Castiglione‘s words regarding the pedigree of the courtier: ―I would have
our courtier be of noble birth and good family.‖ 254 While there is some dissention among
the participants in Castiglione‘s dialogue, the importance of patrician breeding is
249
Many letters from the Gonzaga archive attest to the importance of the Gonzaga razze in forming
diplomatic relationships with European and even Turkish rulers. They are published in Malacarne, Il mito
dei cavalli gonzagheschi.
250
Natalie Zemon Davis, The Gift in Sixteenth-Century France, The Curti Lectures (Madison: University of
Wisconsin Press, 2000), 15-22.
251
Ibid., 17.
252
―tutto fu a spese del p.to S.r Marchese.‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 263. A similar construction is used on pages
256 and 260, all in reference to banquets.
253
Malacarne, Il mito dei cavalli gonzagheschi, 15.
254
80
ultimately agreed upon because it ―is like a bright lamp that makes clear and visible both
good deeds and bad, and inspires and incites to high performance as much as fear of
dishonor or hope of praise.‖255 Noble birth illuminates the worthy qualities of the courtier
and provokes even greater feats from the courtier. As gifts, the horses stood for the
Gonzaga family. The horses‘ breeding symbolized the noble lineage of the lords of
Mantua, and their performance in battle epitomized Gonzaga bravery.
In sixteenth-century art and literature horses were also metaphors for male
sexuality. The unbridled, rearing horse on the sarcophagus in Titian‘s Sacred and
Profane Love symbolizes uncontrolled masculine lust, here rendered tame through
matrimony (Fig. 70).256 Likewise, in Palma il Vecchio‘s La Bella a beautiful young
woman turns towards the viewer, one hand reaching up to coil (or uncoil) her hair, while
the other holds a casket of jewels and ribbons. Her open dress and the sensuous textures
of her clothing and skin are echoed in the marble relief in the upper right corner wherein
a horseman tramples a nude man.257 Pietro Aretino, the licentious poet who corresponded
with Federico II and penned the Sonetti Lussuriosi to accompany Giulio Romano‘s I
Modi, used the horse as a euphemism for the male phallus. 258 Their horses embodied the
virility of the Gonzaga dynasty, yet, unlike the unbridled horses of contemporary art,
Federico II and his family restrained their urges. Tamed and bridled, the Gonzaga horses
symbolized robust masculinity controlled by superior reason.
255
Ibid.
256
Beverly Louise Brown, "Picturing the Perfect Marriage: The Equilibrium of Sense and Sensibility in
Titian's Sacred and Profane Love," in Art and Love in Renaissance Italy, ed. Andrea Bayer (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 2008), 243.
257
258
Pietro Aretino, I Ragionamenti, trans. Raymond Rosenthal (New York: Stein and Day, 1972), 112.
81
As gifts distributed throughout Italy and abroad, the horses spread the message of
robust sexuality and masculine liberality to enemies and friends alike. The importance of
the Gonzaga breed in the formation of the family‘s dynastic identity can also be attested
to by the existence of no fewer than three Sale dei Cavalli in various Gonzaga palaces. 259
Like their horses, the Gonzaga dynasty was formidable in war, pure of blood, and
sexually potent. Through both the horses themselves and images of them, the Gonzaga
dynasty forged a princely identity of nobility and robust masculinity.
Forceful Movements
In Luigi Gonzaga‘s narrative, the vigorous outdoor activities are immediately
followed by dancing in the Sala dei Cavalli, where the imperial party was invited to
watch and participate in Mantuan displays of balletic mastery. Upon entering the Sala dei
Cavalli the emperor must have been struck by the lifelike portraits for which the room is
named. After the vigorous, jumping horses which he just been presented in the garden,
the frescoes must have truly given the impression of living and breathing on the walls in
front of him. The agility and skill displayed in the garden would be echoed in the Sala dei
Cavalli, where courtiers executed dance sequences designed to impress the emperor and
display their masculinity.
The complex spatial arrangements created by Giulio Romano‘s trompe l‘oeil
architecture encouraged dynamic interaction between the dancers and the spaces of the
Sala dei Cavalli. 260 The viewer is drawn back into the idyllic landscapes on the walls,
while at the same time the horse portraits appear to have stepped into the real space of the
259
Cf. p. 35 above.
260
For a more detailed discussion of the Sala dei Cavalli and its decoration see pp. 33-37 above.
82
room. Likewise, the fictive busts, statues, and bronze panels all make a pretense to reality
that is at once believable, yet at the same time was clearly meant to be discovered (Fig
25). The references to virile sexuality contained in the sculptures of Olympian lovers,
Herculean reliefs, and equestrian portraits were performed and interpreted by the young
men invited to the dance by Federico II. The ballo organized in the Sala dei Cavalli
therefore represented a moment when masculinity was socially performed and produced
through the intersection of Giulio‘s conception of space with the perceptions and
experiences of visitors.261
Renaissance dancing was an opportunity to display athletic skill, grace, and,
perhaps most importantly, gender identity. In fact, because the steps were regimented and
different parts were danced by men and women, the movements of the dance repeated
and reinforced existing gender roles. Men moved with forceful, agile steps described as
gagliardo; while women‘s leggiardrìa movements were more delicate and graceful. 262
Castiglione recognized the gendered connotations of dance, and cautioned his female
courtier to guard herself when dancing, lest her movements appear ―too forceful‖ [troppo
gagliardo].263 The dance movements of men and women were tied to existing gender
divisions, and were calculated to allow male and female courtiers to perform their
adherence to appropriate gender roles before their peers and princes.
Luigi Gonzaga recounts that the young men of Mantua ―danced the galliard [alla
gagliarda] in front of His Majesty, in our way and style, which His Majesty was very
261
Cf. Introdcution, p. 3-4.
262
Sharon Fermor, "Movement and Gender in Sixteenth-Century Painting," in The Body Imagined: The
Human Form and Visual Culture Since the Renaissance, ed. K. Adler and M. Pointon (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1993), 130.
263
83
pleased to see.‖264 The galliard was a relatively new and popular courtship dance, which
called upon the improvisational and athletic skills of the male dancer. 265 The male part of
the galliard consisted of four sprung steps, in which the shift from one foot to another
was accomplished by holding the free foot away from the body in a variety of positions.
This was followed by an athletic jump, usually comprised of additional kicking
movements; the dance was finished with a smooth landing.266 However, the dancer could
incorporate an array of variations, allowing for a high degree of improvisation and
individuality. 267 In contrast, the female part was relatively passive, allowing the woman
to focus on the vigorous movements of her partner 268 The galliard was a dance designed
to display male balletic prowess, wherein the woman was intended to act as admirer
rather than participant.
When Castiglione cautions women against steps that are troppo gagliardo, he
therefore means that they should avoid the rapid athletic movements of the galliard, for
these steps were exhibitions of robust and active masculinity. The galliard was an aptly
named display of gagliardezza, the physical strength, skill and robustness associated with
men. 269 The term gagliardezza had a long history, particularly in chivalric romances,
wherein it signified the physical vigor of adult men. However, by the sixteenth century, it
was also associated with the difficulty and overt display of skill required by the
264
―... molti gioveni gentilhomini Mantoani fu ballato avanti a sua M. tà Ces.a alla gagliarda al modo et
usanza nostra, cosa che molto piacque a sua M.tà di vedere.‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 265.
265
Margaret McGowan, Dance in the Renaissance: European Fashion, French Obsession (New Haven:
Yale University Press, 2008), 98.
266
Thoinot Arbeau, Orchésographie et traicté en forme de dialogue, par lequel toutes personnes peuvent
facilement apprendre et practiquer l'honneste exercice des dances (Lengres: J. Des Preyz, 1588), 95-7.
267
Lutio Compasso, Ballo della gagliarda: Faksimile der Ausgabe von 1560, ed. Barbara Sparti (Freiburg:
fa-gisis Musik- und Tanzedition, 1995). Compasso lists thirty two ―easy variations,‖ fifty three ―double
variations,‖ and eighty of ―the most difficult and most beautiful variations.‖
268
McGowan, Dance in the Renaissance, 98-9.
269
Fermor, "Gender and Movement," 139.
84
galliard.270 The dance itself was more than the execution of intricate steps; it was also a
performance of virility: the rapid kicking and thrusting of the legs were designed to elicit
sexual desire in female spectators while also signifying the male‘s robust vigor and
ability to procreate. The movements of the galliard were calculated to impress onlookers
with the virtuoso skill and agility of the male dancer, and must have required a certain
amount of confidence, and perhaps even pride in one‘s body.
Within the context of the Sala dei Cavalli, the kicks and jumps of the galliard took
on new meaning. Surrounded by portraits of Federico II‘s horses, fresh from viewing
those same horses, the dancers and spectators would have viewed the dance as part of the
room. In fact, terms used to describe the dance performed at the Palazzo del Te were also
used by Federico II Gonzaga to refer to his horses. In a 1526 letter describing the horses
he plans to give to the emperor when he comes to Italy, Federico writes: ―we have
prepared and destined a pair of fine horses to give to him. One of these is perhaps gentler,
but much taller, and the other is gagliardo, and we hope that one and the other will
satisfy him.‖271 The term gagliardo was therefore expressly applied by Federico to his
horses, and at the very time when Giulio Romano and his assistants would have been
painting the horse portraits at the Palazzo del Te.
Both dancers and spectators would have perceived the Sala dei Cavalli in the
context of the galliard. Giulio Romano‘s representation of living horses within the space
of the room and the proximity of the stables to the palace shaped the way in which
visitors perceived the Sala dei Cavalli. Both performers and spectators perceived the
270
Ibid., 138-39.
271
―... noi havemo preparati et destinati uno par de corseri per donarlile di li quali uno è ... forsi maggio
bonta ma al quanto più alto, e l‘altro è gagliardo, e speriamo che l‘uno e l‘altra lo satisfarà.‖ ASMn, AG, b.
2930, lib. 268, f. 78r.
85
presence of horses which could kick and jump in conjunction with the actual kicks and
jumps of the dancers. The apparent connection between painting and bodily movement in
turn influenced the ways in which visitors experienced the space. The fictive and physical
spaces of the room were activated by the vigorous actions of the galliard. The Sala dei
Cavalli became a room alive with the forceful, gagliardo movements so closely
associated with masculine gender performance.
The young Mantuan men who danced for the emperor displayed gagliardezza,
which Federico II and other members of his court would have understood as related to the
horses on the wall. The agile jumps and kicks of the dancers called to mind the similar
physical feats of the Gonzaga horses, both of which displayed strength and vigor. The
sexual virility performed so evocatively by the men was mirrored in the virility of the
horses and the sexual undercurrents found in the room‘s painted sculptures and bronze
reliefs. The galliard at the Palazzo del Te therefore enacted masculine ideals already
present in the Sala dei Cavalli, causing the room to become part of the performance.
Virile Intellect
Moving from the calm classicism of the Sala dei Cavalli, the viewer is struck by
the profusion and action of the imagery in the Camera di Psiche. On the wall, gods,
goddesses, nymphs, putti, and satyrs frolic and feast, while above the story of Cupid and
Psyche unfolds in a dizzying circular progression of frescoed lunettes and octagons.
Guests enjoyed the rich foods provided by Federico II under a canopy depicting lovers‘
toils, while a banquet of the gods was depicted on the wall around them (Figs. 27, 32 and
33). Images portraying the amorous relationships between gods, mortals, and even
86
animals likewise appear on the walls, lending the Camera di Psiche a distinctly more
opulent air than that of any of the other rooms in the palace (Figs. 34 and 35).
During lunch the emperor dined with his host, Federico II, and other Mantuan
nobles, while at the more formal evening banquet he ate with Cardinals Cibo and Medici,
who had been members of his party since his coronation in Bologna. The remainder of
the Mantuan party and their imperial guests were accommodated in the Sala dei Venti
and surrounding rooms, with those of the lowest station seated in the tinello (Fig. 7).272
Luigi Gonzaga does not record the types of dishes served, yet, he makes certain to tell us
that both meals consisted of ―an abundance of diverse dishes.‖273 The profusion of food
and drink signified Federico II‘s magnificence and hospitality, and the fact that he
entertained hundreds of people in a newly built palace was an overt display of wealth.
The banquet was also grand theater, complete with props such as elaborate
tableware and perfumed dishes, an elaborate stage in the form of the Camera di Psiche,
and pre-arranged roles for Federico II as the vassal-host and Charles V as the overlord-
guest.274 Diners were seated according to social station, with the guest of honor set apart,
either by his location on a seated dais, or in the case of the banquet at the Palazzo del Te,
by his physical seclusion away from those of a less regal class. 275 The banquet was
therefore ―a microcosm of good society,‖ a moment when social and gender relationships
were constructed through seating arrangements which separated persons by rank and sex,
272
Gonzaga, Cronaca, 265-66. The tinello was a separate dining chamber used to seat those of lower rank.
See, Strong, Feast, 176. In the Palazzo del Te, the tinello was situated to the left of the western loggia,
quite some distance from the Camera di Psiche.
273
―tanta abbondantia di robba di diversi sorti.‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 266.
274
Ken Albala, The Banquet: Dining in the Great Courts of Late Renaissance Europe (Urbana: University
of Illinois Press, 2007), 4. Albala discusses banqueting as a kind of theater, though he is more interested in
the props than in the setting.
275
Strong, Feast, 176.
87
and when congenial conversation established civility amongst the participants. 276
The sensuality and physicality of Renaissance banqueting was acknowledged and
even celebrated in humanist treatises. In his De honesta voluptate et valetudine (c. 1465)
the Mantuan humanist Bartolomeo Sacchi, known as Platina, extols the virtuous
pleasures of dining. 277 He defends good eating, legitimizing physical and emotional
enjoyment of the banquet through the healthfulness of the meal. 278 Eating was healthy,
and relishing a meal was no longer replete with sinful associations with gluttony.
Additionally, Platina argues that good conversation and an aesthetically pleasing table are
as important to the virtuous delight in the meal as healthy food.279 Platina celebrates the
indulgence of the senses, praising the tastes, textures, smells, and sights of the banquet.
When coupled with good conversation, succulent dishes, and an artfully arranged dining
room, the physical satisfactions of eating were honorable because they were healthful. In
addition to Platina‘s treatise, ancient authors such as Plato and Plutarch praised dining,
noting that its sensual pleasures could be enjoyed if kept under the control of reason
exercised in the form of conversation. 280 The Renaissance banquet was therefore a
physical recreation legitimized by an abundance of healthy food and intellectual
discourse.
In addition to the humanist justification for fine dining, Renaissance images, such
276
Ibid., 157.
277
Bartolomeo Sacchi, Platina, On Right Pleasure and Good Health: A Critical Edition and Translation of
De honesta voluptate et valetudine, trans. Mary Ella Milham (Tempe, AZ: Medieval & Renaissance Texts
& Studies, 1998). Platina‘s treatise was the first in what would become a growing genre of gastronomic
literature. See Strong, Feast, 141.
278
Sacchi, On Right Pleasure and Good Health, 56. Platina‘s concept of healthy eating is based upon the
humors, and he therefore advises such things as the eating of cold and moist foods from May to August,
when Choler rises, pp. 117.
279
Ibid., 109, 19. Platina regarded conversation, in particular, as an aid to digestion.
280
Strong, Feast, 158. In his Laws Plato describes the banquet as a means of ordering society and providing
an outlet for pleasure. Plutarch wrote that dining was a fundamental social good, allowing men to converse
and commune with one another.
88
as Bartolomeo di Giovanni‘s Wedding of Peleus and Thetis (c. 1490) and Giovanni
Bellini‘s Feast of the Gods (1514), increasingly depicted the physical pleasures of
banqueting. With the advent of the Reformation and subsequent debates over the nature
of the Eucharist, visual and symbolic associations between banquets and the Last Supper
became less common, and artists turned toward representations of mythological feasts.281
The Camera di Psiche participates in this broader phenomenon, depicting an open air
banquet attended not by saints, but by creatures from ancient Greek and Roman
mythology. The fantastical dinner guests painted by Giulio and his assistants eat, drink,
converse, and frolic across the walls, reflecting the actual activities in the room, as well
as allowing Federico II and his guests a certain amount of license.
The Camera di Psiche is far more than a passive backdrop for Federico‘s
banquets. Its interactive decoration requires the viewer‘s participation in unraveling
iconographic meanings and enacting scenes of indulgent feasting and vigorous passion
depicted on the walls. Above the viewer a series of frescoed octagons and lunettes depict
the story of Cupid and Psyche as related by 2 nd century author Apuleius in The Golden
Ass, while frescoes on the walls below are informed by Ovid‘s Metamorphoses and Ars
Amatoria, Plutarch‘s Lives, and Francesco Colonna‘s Hypnerotomachia Poliphili.282 The
multiple sources that inform the frescoes necessitate a viewer well-versed in both ancient
and contemporary literature.
The complex iconographic scheme elicited the audience‘s visual and vocal
participation in piecing together different elements of the story, relating them to known
literary texts, and debating the possible relationships between the images. The visual
281
Ibid., 158-9.
282
Cf. nn. 121 and 146 above.
89
placement of the ceiling frescoes, in particular, was calculated to provoke conversation,
for the images are not chronologically arranged. If Daniel Arasse is correct in his
argument that story was purposefully mis-ordered to create a labyrinth, then the ceiling
frescoes would have required Federico II and his guests to visually and intellectually
engage with the narrative to demonstrate their knowledge of classical literature as well as
their visual skills (Fig. 31).283 In fact, after the smaller lunchtime banquet, Charles V
remained in the Camera di Psiche, ―for some time, engaged in various and diverse
conversations‖ with Federico II, Alfonso I d‘Este, and other Italian princes. 284 While
Luigi Gonzaga does not record the subjects of the conversation, it seems highly plausible
that some time was spent discussing the room and its decoration.
Beyond the display of literary and visual sophistication encouraged by the
Camera di Psiche, its luxuriant decoration and sexual overtones would have elicited quite
another response. Through the use of warm tones and verdant landscapes Giulio Romano
creates an idyllic realm for his figures, wherein the pleasures of the senses are celebrated.
In the Camera di Psiche the relationship between food, wine, indulgence, and sexuality
finds its ultimate expression. 285 The flowing wine provided by Federico II for his guests
would have drawn their attention to the Bacchic imagery of the room, especially
prominent on the wall frescoes. On the southern wall Bacchus and his followers drink
283
Arasse, "Giulio Romano e il labirinto di Psiche ": 10-15. Arasse does not discuss the kinds of visual and
literary acuity required of viewers, nor how visitors might have interacted with the labyrinth.
284
―Dopoi sendo stato sua M.tà alquanto in vari et diversi ragionamenti con il S. r Marchese et con il S.r
Duca di Ferrara et col Principe di Besignano, March. dil Guasto et molti altri S. ri et Principi ragionando di
varie cose...‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 263.
285
The association of banquets with sexuality has been noted, but not yet fully explored by Renaissance
scholars. See Giancarlo Malacarne, Sulla mensa del Principe, alimentazione e banchetti alla Corte dei
Gonzaga (Modena: Il Bulino, 2000); Guendalina Ajello Mahler, "Ut Pictura Convivia: Heavenly Banquets
and Infernal Feasts in Renaissance Italy," Viator: Medieval and Renaissance Studies 38, no. 2 (2007);
Strong, Feast. All three authors comment on the sensuality of dining, but focus instead on its political and
social significance.
90
and make merry, while on the neighboring west wall satyrs peer lasciviously at nymphs,
their thoughts highlighted by obvious erections (Fig. 71).
Like the leering satyrs, the amorous scenes of Bacchus and Ariadne, Jupiter and
Olympias, and Päsiphae and the Bull call to mind the sensual delights of dining (Figs. 36,
37, and 38). Their sexually explicit content celebrates the pleasures of the flesh, and
entices the viewer to enjoy the food and drink before him with the same abandon.
However, unlike the neighboring banqueting frescoes, these three images visually
encroach on the viewer‘s space.286 As in the Sala dei Cavalli, the spectator senses the
presence of the lovers in his space; however, the figures in the Camera di Psiche more
vigorously rupture the barriers between fictive and physical space. Ariadne‘s dress drapes
sinuously over the frame, while Olympia grips the edge in the throes of ecstasy and the
tail of Pasiphae‘s cow suit curves out over it. The figures reach over and around the
painted frame, as if they could descend from the painted wall into the room. Coupled
with the overt sexuality of the images, their palpable physicality creates a space which
heightens and celebrates the senses. Charles V and his dining companions were invited to
participate in the freedom from restraint shown in the frescoes, and to enjoy the physical
pleasures offered to them by their host. The frescoes literally interact with the viewer,
inducing Charles V and his entourage to drink, eat, and be merry, to feast their palates
and their eyes.
In conjunction with the room‘s inscription, the images of feasting and love-
making encourage viewers to participate in the ―virtuous leisure‖ that Federico II offers
286
Cf. pp. 45-46 above.
91
to his guests.287 In interpreting the iconography of the room, most scholars have bypassed
the word honesto [virtuous] in the inscription, and have argued that the leisure offered in
the Camera di Psiche was explicitly erotic. 288 However, when viewed in conjunction with
the dining activities that occurred in the Camera di Psiche, it seems that the erotic images
displayed on the lower levels of the fresco decoration could be rendered virtuous. Like
fine food, the images stimulated physical pleasure, and like the cuisine of a banquet,
Giulio Romano‘s frescoes could be transformed through discourse. Indeed, Giulio offered
just such a visual and intellectual outlet.
The scenes of Cupid and Psyche above the diners set a higher tone, calling upon
the viewer to exercise his intelligence and skill. The lush vistas, leering satyrs and willing
nymphs in banqueting scenes below ask the viewer to abandon his reserve and participate
in the license and amusement of the feast. In contrast, the labors of Psyche and her ascent
to godhood in the ceiling frescoes exhort him to transform his pleasure into ―virtuous
leisure.‖ The inscription performs this visual transition, separating the lower realm of the
banquet from the higher realm of intellectual discourse, yet at the same time connecting
these two planes. Additionally, the wooden structure of the ceiling breaks into the
banqueting scenes below, creating a sense of visual continuity as well as rupturing the
illusion. The blurring of lines between nature and artifice seen in the frescoed scenes of
287
FEDERICUS GONZAGA II MAR[CHIO] V S[ANCTAE] R[OMANAE] E[CCLESIAE] ET
REIP[UBLICAE] FLOR[ENTINAE] CAPITANVS GENERALIS HONESTO OCIO POST LABORES
AD REPARANDAM VIRT[UTEM] QUIETI COSTRVI MANDAVIT. Here translated as: ―Federico
Gonzaga, Fifth Marchese, Captain General of the Holy Roman Church and Florentine Republic, ordered
this palace built for virtuous leisure after work to restore strength in quiet.‖ Honesto is often translated as
‗honest.‖ However, given the somewhat precarious moral position of otium in Renaissance society, the
translation of honesto as ‗virtuous‘ renders the word as an emphatic defense of leisure.
288
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 25. Bette Talvacchia has addressed the issue of honesto ocio at the
Palazzo del Te, but has concluded that the word honesto represented a kind of visual joke on the part of
Giulio Romano and Federico II, and that the leisure to be found in the palace was therefore sexual. Bette
Talvacchia, Taking Positions: On the Erotic in Renaissance Culture (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 1999), 109-10.
92
amorous love and in the interruption of the ceiling creates a social space in which
courtier-actors could perform both the earthy virility and intellectual decorum expected
of sixteenth-century men.
The Camera di Psiche therefore calls upon its inhabitants to exhibit the protean
qualities of Castiglione‘s courtier, who should not only be able to converse on ―serious
subjects, but also of amusing things, such as games and jests and jokes, according to the
occasion.‖289 The varying attitudes and themes of the paintings encourage a display of
erudition as well as bawdy humor. For Charles V and Federico II the act of dining in the
Camera di Psiche was not simply an opportunity to eat in a beautifully decorated room, it
was a chance to display their witty conversational abilities and robust humor. In short, it
was a chance to exhibit sprezzatura. By reaching into the world of the viewer, the images
and architectural elements subtly break down the barriers between illusion and reality,
compelling Federico II and his guests to engage in the physical and intellectual pleasures
of Giulio‘s world.
Witty Conversation
The emperor and his dinner companions finished eating before the rest of the
party, and filled the time with a visit to the Camera dei Venti. Here, Charles V
conversed publicly with Cardinal Cibo for an hour, greatly praising the rooms,
and thus the master and inventor of them, and of the diversity of things that had
been and that were, and in this way His Majesty was able to understand
everything in detail.‖290
289
290
―… et sua M.tà si ritirò nella camra delli venti, et ragionò per un‘hora così publicamente con il Car.le
Cibo, laudando molto queste camare, et così il M. ro et inventore di esse et di tante diversitati di cose vi
furno et erano, et così minutamente sua M.tà voles intendere il tutto.‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 266-7. The
emperor‘s praise for the room‘s ―master and inventor‖ most likely refers to the humanist who devised the
program, rather than Giulio Romano.
93
It was through conversation that the decorative programs of the rooms in the Palazzo del
Te were explained and understood. The interchange of ideas concerning the meaning of
the frescoes activated each room, creating a space in which masculine reason and wit
could be enacted.
While Luigi Gonzaga does not record which rooms were specifically discussed,
given the location of the conversation it seems likely that the focus of the conversation
was the Camera dei Venti itself. The Camera dei Venti is certainly a room which requires
explanation, for as Ernst Gombrich has shown, the frescoes were devised by a humanist
adviser and based upon astrological poetry and treatises.291 On the edges of the ceiling
vault stuccoed images of the zodiac are interspersed with allegorical frescoes
representing the months, while frescoes at the center depict the actions of the gods. The
Gonzaga impresa of Mount Olympus rising out of the water reigns over the room from its
place at the very center of the vault decoration (Fig. 42). Below these pairs of images are
roundels depicting actions or characteristics associated with those born under each sign
(Fig. 41).292
The roundels in the Camera dei Venti illustrate the effects of the stars upon a
man‘s destiny, showing each of the twelve signs of the zodiac and the character of the
person born under them. It is therefore a room which encourages discussion and
comparison of the images to one another, and of the attributes depicted to actual persons
born under those signs. Throughout the Renaissance, the ability to converse with wit and
sophistication was considered to be a mark of moral and intellectual excellence. 293 As
291
For possibile identities of the humanist who devised the decorative program, see n. 150 above.
292
Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 350-7.
293
94
early as 1401 the humanist Leonardo Bruni praised the art of conversation, noting that
disputation laid open the process of reason. 294 Whether about art, politics, or life at court,
a man‘s conversation betrayed the movements of his mind.
In his Book of the Courtier, Baldassarre Castiglione returns several times to the
importance of conversation, and in fact, the book itself is structured as a dialogue. He
notes that when speaking a man‘s choice of words, resonance of the voice, and the
movements of his body are important, but ―all this would be futile and of little
consequence if the ideas conveyed by the words being used were not beautiful, witty,
shrewd, elegant, or solemn, according to the need.‖295 Like Bruni, Castiglione views
dialogue as a process which reveals the mental faculties of the speaker, showing him to
be a reasoned and moral person. For the man at court, conversation is one of the primary
ways that he performs his masculinity. Through his words the courtier presents himself to
others, performing his masculinity and courtliness through a show of intellect and virtue.
The courtier was expected to vary his conversation according to the company in
which he spoke. In particular, he was to ―speak one way with men and another way with
women.‖296 Women should not be addressed with the rough words of battle, but should
instead be wooed with ―verse and prose‖ because they are ―usually very fond of such
things.‖297 Women prefer light conversation, not the heavy discourse of politics,
philosophy or rhetoric. In fact, one of the few conversations regarding rhetoric in The
Courtier is interrupted by Emilia Pia, who calls the argument ―protracted and tedious.‖ 298
294
Eugenio Garin, Prosatori latini del quattrocento, vol. 1: Coluccio Salutati, Leonardo Bruni Aretino,
Francesco Barbaro (Torino: Einaudi, 1976), 48-52.
295
296
Ibid., 116.
297
Ibid., 77.
298
Ibid., 84.
95
While Emilia‘s disruption shows a measure of feminine control over the conversation, 299
it also reveals gendered expectations regarding intellectual discourse.
The emperor‘s conversation with Cardinal Cibo was not simply a way to
exchange information; it was a performance of masculine reason, sophistication, and
virtue. Located in a room planned by a humanist and informed by humanist thought, the
Camera dei Venti was the ideal location in which to stage a courtly dialogue. Like a good
discussion, the roundels in the Camera dei Venti illustrate various points of view: at times
they depict negative forces, as in the case of Sagittarius, which portrays prisoners, 300 at
others they bring positive aspects to the fore, as when a gladiator, rather than a man
devoted to luxury, is chosen to represent Taurus.301 In discussing the images, viewers
therefore exhibit not only their knowledge of astrological texts, but also their reason, for
the selection of scenes seems purposefully obscure.302 The viewer must therefore exercise
and display his reason in order to comprehend the images. In Luigi Gonzaga‘s words, he
must discuss ―the diversity of things‖ in order to ―understand everything in detail.‖ 303
The conversations in the Camera dei Venti involved just the kinds of topics that
Emilia Pia would have found tiresome, but which were meant to fascinate the masculine
courtier. In order to understand the room and its meaning Charles V and Cardinal Cibo
would have had to discuss both classical and Renaissance treatises on astrology. 304 In
addition, the room allows the spectator to display masculine control, not over his body as
299
Stephen Kolsky, Courts and Courtiers in Renaissance Northern Italy (Aldershot: Ashgate/Variorum,
2003), 53.
300
Gombrich, "The Sala dei Venti in the Palazzo del Te," 195.
301
Lippincott, "The Astrological Decoration of the Sala dei Venti in the Palazzo del Te," 220-1.
302
Beginning with Carlo D‘Arco, scholars have universally acknowledged the difficulty of unraveling the
meaning of each image, and the likelihood that this ambiguity was intentional. D'Arco, Istoria, 45.
303
Cf. n. 290 above.
304
Gombrich, "The Sala dei Venti in the Palazzo del Te," 189. Gombrich identifies the ancient authors
Manilius and Firmicus Maternus as the classical sources for the humanist program.
96
in the physical activities situated in the gardens, but over the heavens themselves.
Through discourse on the role of the stars in determining his fortune, Charles V could
literally plot out the movements of the stars. The emperor‘s control over the room
became a symbol of his political control over Europe, and his favorable treatment by the
stars and the fates they influenced. Like Castiglione‘s courtier, Charles V could become
the master of his fortune by showing that he knew how to order the stars of fate, and thus
―how to order his whole life.‖ 305 Through reason and intellect, a man could comprehend
the role of fortune in his life, and thereby become its master.
The Camera dei Venti takes shape through discourse. As in the Camera di Psiche,
conversation in the Camera dei Venti allowed viewers visually and intellectually to make
connections between the images, piecing together the program from ancient and
contemporary treatises as well as a visual lexicon of standard iconography. 306
Additionally, discourse was a fundamental way in which a man could make his gender
performance comprehensible to others. Through conversation regarding the bacchic
images in the Camera di Psiche Charles V could display his virility, while at the same
time he could demonstrate his masculine restraint through a visual and intellectual
ascension to the frescoed story of Cupid and Psyche. The intellectual thrust of the
Camera dei Venti provoked a performance of masculine intelligence and mastery. By
showing that he ―was able to understand everything in detail,‖ Charles V demonstrated
his control over the room and the fortunes it depicted. 307 Conversation activated the
305
306
Although Cesare Ripa‘s Iconologia was not published until 1593, sixteenth-century viewers would have
been familiar with visual conventions regarding the depiction of mythological and religious figures.
307
Cf. n. 290 above.
97
Palazzo del Te, creating spaces in which masculine restraint, sexual potency, intellect,
and control were displayed and enacted.
Conclusion
During the emperor‘s visit Federico II and his guests enacted gender roles which
were shaped by the spaces around them. As physical embodiments of man‘s control over
nature, the gardens provoked displays of nobility, virility, and command of the body. The
performance of physical skill was carried inside the palace during the dancing organized
in the Sala dei Cavalli, which likewise focused upon displays of the masculine body. The
two activities were shaped by the proximity of the Gonzaga horses, both in the nearby
stables and in the painted portraits which dominate the Sala dei Cavalli. Both present and
absent, the horses exist in Giulio‘s conception of space as inhabitants of the room and as
part of its illusion. The painted horses exist between the surface of the wall and the space
of the room through a series of signifying absences that purport to reveal an essential
nature which does not in fact exist.308 Likewise, the games, sports, and dances performed
in the presence of the Gonzaga horses constructed a seemingly natural masculinity, which
nevertheless existed only on the surface of the body. Through a dynamic interaction
between living horses and painted horses, physical space and fictive space, action and
representation, Federico II and his guests performed masculine roles based upon vigor
and self-control.
The physical virility enacted through sports and dancing found an intellectual
outlet in the Camera di Psiche. Pleasure and leisure were celebrated, both in the
sumptuous feasts laid out for guests and in the luminescent, hedonistic banquet depicted
308
I am paraphrasing Butler, Gender Trouble, 185. Cf. n. 47 above.
98
on the walls. Guests saw their own behaviors mirrored on the walls: drinking, eating, and
merry-making gave them license for the same enjoyment of sensual pleasures in the
terrestrial realm. However, at the same time, the Camera di Psiche encouraged the viewer
to rise above such base pleasures, and through careful observation and intellectual
discourse to achieve visual and moral superiority.
A similar concept of mastery through discourse is found in the Camera dei Venti.
The images hang above the viewer, just out of reach, like the constellations they
illustrate. Unlike the Sala dei Cavalli and the Camera di Psiche, the images in the Camera
dei Venti do not mirror the activities which occurred there. The images provoke activity.
The Camera dei Venti is activated as viewers discuss the meanings of the frescoes and
their relationship to individual fortune. Conversation concerning fate, astrology, and
humanism is not only a masculine display of urbanity, but also offers the male viewer the
opportunity to master fate through visual and intellectual skill.
The Palazzo del Te was both stage and performer, providing the backdrop against
which courtiers enacted masculine roles, while also inciting behaviors and reactions from
the actors. At the confluence of perception, representation, and experience, the spaces of
the Palazzo del Te shaped and responded to sixteenth-century masculine ideals. In the
images and spaces of the palace, Federico II, Charles V, and their guests saw the visual
embodiment of masculine ideals: virility, virtue, prowess, and intellect. Through the
activities staged within the palace they performed those ideals, making social spaces
through social interactions.
99
Chapter 3
Playing the Part
After the emperor‘s departure in 1530, work resumed on the Palazzo del Te, albeit
at a somewhat disjointed pace.309 What emerged after 1530 was a more comprehensive
vision of the palace as a building that sought to emulate and surpass the art and
architecture of both Rome and Mantua. The architecture, painting, and decoration of the
latter rooms show Giulio‘s profound engagement with both Roman and Mantuan artistic
traditions, an engagement that I argue was brought about by the physical presence of the
Holy Roman Emperor in Mantua. Through the form and decoration of the Palazzo del Te
Giulio Romano and Federico II Gonzaga sought to create the illusion of an abiding
imperial presence in Mantua, and to link the imperial tradition to the Gonzaga dynasty
using distinctly masculine imagery.
Scholars have rightly noted that the form and decoration of Palazzo del Te after
1530 carries markedly imperial overtones, and have generally argued that the post-1530
iconography of the palace was both a tribute to Charles V and a reflection of Federico II‘s
new status as Duke of Mantua.310 In fact, art and architecture throughout northern Italy
paid homage to the emperor in the years following Charles V‘s arrival in Italy. Like the
Palazzo del Te, the Palazzo Doria in Genoa houses frescoes depicting Roman triumphs
and a gigantomachia, while in Trent Charles V is depicted amongst his Habsburg
309
Records for the latter building phase are unclear. Giulio Romano was overseeing the construction of the
now-destroyed Palazzina Paleologa, as well as additions to the villa at Marmirolo. Payment orders do not
always specify for which structure the work was completed, and all indications are that work on the
Palazzo del Te sometimes took a backseat to Federico‘s other projects. Hartt, Giulio Romano, 147-48; 259-
67.
310
Ibid., 107; Forster and Tuttle, "The Palazzo Te," 278-9.
100
forebears in the Sala delle Udienze at the Castello del Buonconsiglio. 311 The visits of
Charles V to Italy throughout the 1530s prompted a spate of art and architectural projects
designed both to flatter the emperor and to make visible the diplomatic relationships
between Italian princes and the Holy Roman Emperor.
The triumphal garden façade, martial stuccoes, and imperial portraits of the
Palazzo del Te also show Giulio Romano‘s deep and continued connection to another
imperial power: ancient Rome. As an artist born, raised, trained, and even named for the
city, Giulio‘s indebtedness to the ruins of Rome cannot be questioned. Indeed, the Roman
connection was perhaps the single most important reason for his recruitment by Federico
II Gonzaga.312 Visual references and appropriations from ancient Roman monuments
were self-conscious and purposeful; like his name, they proclaimed Giulio‘s Roman-ness
and bolstered his artistic authority. Despite intentional imperial references, both Holy
Roman and ancient Roman, I would also like to suggest that changes to the Palazzo del
Te after 1530 also reflect Giulio Romano‘s artistic response to the art and architecture of
Renaissance Mantua. The presence of the Holy Roman Emperor in Mantua, coupled with
Giulio‘s own Roman heritage and his role in designing the triumphal decorations that
greeted the emperor drew from Giulio an art that was both Roman and Mantuan. Charles
V served less as the focus of the palazzo‘s iconography than as an inspiration to explore
the imperial connections between Mantua and Rome.
As Bonner Mitchell and Roy Strong have noted, the arrival of the newly-crowned
Roman Emperor in Italy provided artists and humanists with the ideal opportunity to
311
William Eisler, "The Impact of the Emperor Chalres V upon the Italian Visual Culture 1529-1533," Arte
Lombarda 65, no. 2 (1983): 95-6, 108-9.
312
Hartt, Giulio Romano, 67-8. Federico II‘s earliest requests for a court artist show no preference for
Giulio Romano; the marchese simply desired someone trained in the Roman style, preferably trained by
Raphael.
101
exercise their knowledge of classical antiquity. 313 In designing the triumphal entry of
Charles V, Giulio drew on his personal repertoire of ancient Roman art and architecture
in order to recreate the imperial capital in Mantua. The city itself had a long association
with ancient Roman imagery, beginning with the triumphal arch on the façade of Leon
Battista Alberti‘s Sant‘Andrea (1470-1476), extending to Andrea Mantegna‘s Camera
Picta (1465-1474), and culminating in Mantegna‘s Triumphs of Caesar (ca. 1486-1505).
The imperial themes in the Palazzo del Te arose from the intersection of the emperor‘s
presence, Giulio‘s training, and the artistic heritage of Mantua itself.
After the emperor‘s initial visit, Giulio‘s style becomes more dramatic: human
figures twist and turn in space, they gesture emphatically, and their faces contort in
expressions of rage, pain, and shock. Giulio‘s elegant sense of line remains, especially in
his female figures, but the human body attains more emotional vitality. In contrast to the
delicate grace of the Camera dei Venti, the contorted figures of the Sala dei Giganti
display pain and fear as their large bodies lie broken amongst the rubble. At the same
time, Giulio‘s style contains a greater sense of gravitas. The lighthearted architectural
puzzles of the interior courtyard are replaced by the sobering triumphal arch of the east
façade, and the playful putti of the Camera di Psiche give way to stately rulers in the
Camera degli Imperatori.
Designing the architecture and decorations for the emperor‘s arrival lent Giulio‘s
style a greater sense of presence and drama than it had hitherto possessed. At the Palazzo
del Te, the intersection of imperial virtue, courtly performance, and theatrical style
created spaces in which male viewers were called upon to craft masculine roles based on
virtue, awe, and a certain dark humor. Upon his return to Mantua in 1532 Charles V
313
Mitchell, "Triumphal Entry," 415; Strong, Art and Power, 76.
102
viewed a palace which depicted a masculinity that was both more austere and more
terrible than the one he encountered during his earlier visit. The latter phase of the
Palazzo del Te continues to embody the sprezzatura found elsewhere in the building: wit,
strength, and intellect remain important values. However, these values are communicated
in a grander style with distinctly imperial overtones. The Palazzo del Te was more than a
permanent manifestation of the ephemeral apparati designed for the emperor‘s arrival;
the spaces of the palace also embody the intersection of Mantuan and imperial
performances of masculinity.
Charles V returned to Mantua in late 1532, ostensibly to adjudicate a dispute
regarding the newly-acquired Gonzaga territory of Casale, which he resolved in Federico
II‘s favor.314 While Charles did visit the Palazzo del Te, the lavish entertainments
arranged there during his previous visit were instead held in the Gonzaga Palazzo Ducale
on the opposite side of Mantua.315 The emperor‘s exact movements are therefore difficult
to trace, though it is generally assumed that his visit focused on the post-1530
additions. 316 This chapter will therefore concentrate less on the emperor‘s actual
movements, than on the influence of his presence in Mantua and at the Palazzo del Te.
Before and After
During his first visit, Charles V saw a palace that was still in the midst of its
conceptual and physical creation. While the Loggia di Davide had yet to be decorated, its
314
Davari, "Federico Gonzaga e la famiglia Paleologo."
315
Federico‘s reasons for preferring the Palazzo Ducale rather than the Palazzo del Te are unclear. Federico
himself stayed at the Palazzo del Te during the emperor‘s visit, and was at pains to make certain that it was
ready to receive visitors. On November 1, 1532 he was reassured that ―In sul Te è aconcio ogni cosa
[Everything is ready at Te].‖ ASMn, AG, b. 2517, f. 136r.
316
103
ultimate appearance must have been clearly conceptualized, for Luigi Gonzaga recounts
that when the tour stopped in the loggia its eventual appearance was explained, and ―His
Majesty understood everything which was to come.‖317 Presumably, Federico II informed
the emperor of the loggia‘s dedication to the biblical hero David and his relationship with
Bathsheba, and his intention to fill the niches of the loggia with busts of famous
European condottieri.
The importance of the Loggia di David lies in its transitional nature. Not only
does it bridge the temporal gap between the earlier and latter buildings phases of the
palace, the loggia also physically connects spaces within the palace (Fig. 7) The loggia
lies at the intersection of the earlier, northwestern wing and the latter, southwestern wing
of the palace, while also providing a transition between the courtyard, the interior spaces
of the palace, and the extensive gardens. It is a space of possibility, wherein the visitor
may choose to return to the palace proper, enter the courtyard and eventually exit the
grounds of the Palazzo del Te, or advance into the vast gardens visible just beyond the
loggia. The architectural significance of the loggia is magnified by its decoration, which
comprises the only biblically-themed fresco cycle of the entire palace.
Federico originally intended to include busts of famous contemporary military
men commissioned from the sculptor Alfonso Lombardo. While most scholars assume
that the busts were never completed, a document dated 24 February 1532 from Alfonso
informs Federico that the busts are finished and that he plans to depart for Mantua with
them within fifteen days. 318 However, it is difficult to ascertain whether or not they were
317
―... sua M.tà comprese il tutto di quello havea a riuscire.‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 262.
318
ASMn, AG, b. 1154, f. 125f, transcribed by Braghirolli, "Alfonso Cittadella," 100, doc. IV. Despite the
fact that this letter was first published in 1878, it does not appear to have been widely known. Without
citing the 1532 letter, Piera Carpi argued that that sculptures had been executed by Alfonso Lombardo,
104
installed in the Loggia di Davide. An inventory of Federico‘s possessions prepared after
his death in 1540 lists twenty three antique and modern busts in Federico‘s collection in
the Palazzo Ducale but provides no other details. 319 The busts may have been taken
immediately to the Palazzo Ducale, or installed in the Loggia di Davide only for a short
time, perhaps for the 1532 visit of Charles V. It is also possible that the busts of the
uomini famosi were still at the Palazzo del Te in 1540 and that the items mentioned in the
inventory are another set of sculptures altogether. If they were installed, the combination
of contemporary, biblical role models with triumphal Roman architecture would have
encouraged male courtiers to view themselves as active, militaristic men deserving of the
triumphs and memorials granted to those who have earned fame for their deeds.
The overall theme of the loggia is one of conquest and triumph. At eye level, the
viewer would likely have been surrounded by busts of contemporary military leaders,
including Gattamellata, Consalvo Ferrante, Matthias Corvinus, and Francesco Sforza. 320
The lunettes above either door depict David‘s defeat of Goliath: above the entrance to the
Camera delle Aquile David vigorously decapitates his enemy, while over the entrance to
the Camera degli Stucchi David relaxes after his triumph, strumming a lute while resting
one foot on Goliath‘s head. Above the entrance to the courtyard the Gonzaga impresa of
Mount Olympus is lifted to the heavens by winged victories, and is flanked on either side
Carpi, Giulio Romano, 22. Hartt refuted her argument by stating that they were not mentioned by Vasari
nor catalogued in the 1540 inventory of the palace. Hartt, Giulio Romano, 150. Most scholars have
accepted Hartt‘s assertion that the sculptures were never completed. See, for example, Verheyen, The
Palazzo del Te, 31; Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 364.
Had the busts gotten lost or damaged in transit, Federico most certainly would have written to Alfonso
Lombardo about it; no such letter has been found, and we may therefore conclude that the busts arrived in
Mantua.
319
―Vintitrei teste de marmore con meglio il busto, de varii signori, tra antiche et moderne ...‖ Transcribed
by Ferrari, Le collezioni Gonzaga, 310. Federico‘s collection was housed in his studiolo, which was located
in the Corte Vecchia.
320
For identities of busts, see ASMn, AG, b. 2930, lib. 286, f. 44v; ibid. b. 2933, lib. 300, f. 97v; Ibid. b.
2933, lib. 302, f. 69v-70r.
105
by lunettes depicting David wrestling a bear and a lion. On the ceiling above, David
conquers Bathsheba, first spying on her while bathing, then overcoming her husband to
win her hand (Figs. 48, 49, and 50).321 The façade of the loggia itself is in the form of a
Roman triumphal arch, thereby literally marking the visitor‘s triumph. The drama of
conquest is emphasized not only through the Giulio‘s architecture and painting, but also
through the panorama of the gardens, which must originally have presented a vast
complex of plants, trees, sculptures, and fountains.
The transitions that occur in the loggia are not simply spatial, they are also
temporal; biblical, ancient Roman, and contemporary history are all represented. As the
visitor moves through the Loggia di Davide, he also moves through time, experiencing
the victories and loves of David, the triumphs of the Romans, and the visages of
contemporary warriors all at once. The Loggia di Davide stands at the intersection of
time and space, allowing the visitor a certain amount of control over his ultimate
destination, while at the same time enfolding him in the sweep of history. While in the
Camera dei Venti Charles V, Federico II, and their guests could enact their mastery over
fate, in the Loggia di David they were invited to master history through a controlling
gaze. Standing at the center of the loggia, the viewer could look up at the biblical
frescoes, around at the marble busts, or out at the gardens through triumphal façade. He
controlled his vision, and thereby dictated the way in which history would unfold before
him.
Time collapses and expands under the viewer‘s gaze, as it would have for Charles
V, imaging what would become of the loggia as it was described to him in 1530. For the
Loggia di Davide is also a space that sprang to life in Charles V‘s mind before its
321
For a more lengthy discussion of the David and Bathsheba frescoes, see pp. 51-53 above.
106
physical realization, and therefore the space which provided a transition between his first
and second visits. In describing the loggia to the emperor, it must also have become more
real in the mind of Federico II, allowing him to envision the palace as it would be upon
completion. Upon his return to the Palazzo del Te in 1532, the Loggia di Davide
represented the beginning, rather than the end, of the emperor‘s visit. As he walked
through the space, Charles V moved from the past to the present, witnessing both the
passage of human history figured in the loggia‘s decoration and the passing of his own
time as he saw the current realization of a space which had been described to him two
years earlier.
Presence and Absence
The latter phase of the Palazzo del Te records both the presence and absence of
the Holy Roman Emperor, embodied in Charles V. As the inheritor of the Roman
Empire, Charles V‘s 1530 visit was the ideal opportunity to explore the connections
between Rome, its emperors, and the Gonzaga rulers of Mantua. Upon his arrival, the
emperor was greeted with a triumphal entry that had been designed and staged by Giulio
Romano. For a short time, Mantua became Rome, clothing itself in the art and
architecture of the ancient city. However, Mantua‘s transformation was only skin deep, a
performance of imperial spectacle that was as easily disposed of as the stucco arches and
statues that created the illusion. The physical absence of both ancient and contemporary
emperors from the Gonzaga duchy was hidden behind layers of imagery that referenced
both the art of ancient Rome and Renaissance Mantua. After the emperor‘s departure, the
107
Palazzo del Te became the site wherein the imperial presence of both Rome and the Holy
Roman emperor was re-produced through architecture, painting, and performance.
Like the imperial presence, gender is produced on the surface of things. Judith
Butler argues that gender is ―the disciplinary production of the figures of fantasy through
the play of presence and absence on the body‘s surface.‖322 Gestures, ways of speaking,
and movements signify the presence of a stable gender identity, which is in fact
ephemeral. Gender is merely a performance, a ―play of signifying absences that suggest,
but never reveal, the organizing principle of identity as a cause.‖ 323 While masculine
actors perform as if they possess a core gender identity, masculinity exists only as a
constantly shifting façade. The play of absences, that is, the way in which gender
performance signifies what it is not (masculine is not feminine, heterosexual is not
homosexual), suggests a presence that is as impermanent as the decorations that Giulio
Romano created for the arrival of Charles V.
The Palazzo del Te signifies the absent emperor by constantly performing his
presence. Courtier actors are invited to enact their own imperial triumph in the garden
façade, and therefore become the emperor, if only for a moment. In the Camera degli
Stucchi figures rest on the surface of the wall, recalling an imperial presence that exists
only on depicted surfaces. Imperial ‗portraits‘ in the Camera degli Imperatori show men
long dead and actions never witnessed by the artist, yet, thanks to Giulio‘s more robust
style, they seem to physically occupy the painted niches in which they appear. They make
a claim to reality, both for painting and for Mantua‘s imperial connection, which is
manifestly absent. In the Sala dei Giganti the wall disappears, a signifying absence that
322
323
Ibid., 185.
108
incorporates the viewer into the room‘s action, and therefore manifests the overwhelming
awe of the imperial presence more strongly.
Moreover, the imperial absences and presences at the Palazzo del Te were
signified within the context of Mantuan art and architecture. In each of the spaces under
discussion, Giulio Romano used classical topoi that were also present in Renaissance
Mantua. The garden façade of the palace is modeled after a Roman triumphal arch, as is
Alberti‘s Sant‘Andrea façade. Likewise, the figures of the Camera degli Stucchi
strikingly recall the Column of Trajan, yet another imperial procession already existed in
Andrea Mantegna‘s Triumphs of Caesar. Imperial portraits in the Camera degli
Imperatori find a predecessor in the bust-length portraits that cover the ceiling of
Mantegna‘s Camera Picta, and the Sala dei Giganti is a striking response to Mantegna‘s
oculus. The presence of imperial Rome had already been asserted in Mantua. Giulio
Romano‘s engagement with the classical heritage of the city was provoked by the dual
presence and absence of the Holy Roman Emperor. At the Palazzo del Te, Giulio
produced the fantasy of the abiding imperial nature of the Gonzaga dynasty.
On the eastern façade Giulio Romano re-created a triumphal arch that is derived
from Roman examples such as the Arch of Constantine (Fig. 72).324 Originally, the
garden façade carried an attic rather than its current pediment, and it would have
therefore more closely resembled its ancient predecessor (Fig. 16). 325 At the center of the
façade, three arches spring from trabeated columns, forming a serliana portal (Fig. 15).
324
The resemblance between ancient Roman triumphal arches and the east façade of the Palazzo del Te has
been widely observed. For a comprehensive examination of the façade, see Forster and Tuttle, "The
Palazzo Te," 275-80.
325
The attic was replaced by the current pediment during the 18th century by Paolo Pozzo, who believed the
attic itself to be a later addition. Ibid.: 282-3.
109
The trabeation creates the effect of a broken entablature, which, like the dropped
triglyphs of the courtyard, can be restored by the viewer‘s imagination. On either side of
the central archway, four more rounded arches spring from slender columns, which
would originally have been echoed in the colonettes of the attic. Additionally, the façade
was originally painted with winged victories and defeated barbarians, which further
emphasized the triumphal nature of the architectural forms (Fig. 17).326
While most art historians focus on the differences between the garden façade and
the other façades of the Palazzo del Te, it is important to note the conceptual continuities
in Giulio‘s architecture.327 Although the forms may differ, the Palazzo del Te consistently
demands that its viewers be visually and intellectually astute.328 The garden façade as
originally constructed was a dynamic space wherein the rhythm of arches and colonettes
established a sense of movement that is related to the falling triglyphs in the courtyard.
Light and shadow played off the surfaces and recesses Giulio created in the façade by
layering windows, walls, columns, and pilasters. The façade could also have been
glimpsed in the reflective surface of the fish pond, as the exterior façades could have
been seen in the water separating the Isola del Te from the mainland. In conjunction with
the visual complexities of the garden façade, Giulio required that his audience be familiar
with the architectural monuments of ancient Rome, as well as those of Renaissance
Mantua. Finally, a certain amount of wit was required to piece together the complex
visual and cultural references in the façade.
326
327
For an analysis of the architectural differences between the various façades of the Palazzo del Te, see
Forster and Tuttle, "The Palazzo Te," 272-6.
328
Tafuri, "Giulio Romano," 20-49.
110
Giulio clearly intended that the visual reference to a triumphal arch be readily
intelligible to his audience. Just as clearly, he drew inspiration for the forms of the garden
façade from the ancient architecture which surrounded him in his native Rome. However,
Giulio also modified the form of the arch, most notably in his use of serlianas and the
equal height of all three arches openings. While it has been argued that Giulio derived the
composition of the garden façade from a sixth-century mosaic of Theodoric‘s palace
depicted at Sant‘Apollinare Nuovo in Ravenna, 329 it seems far more likely that the
Roman artist drew inspiration from the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine (Fig. 73).
Like the garden façade, the ruins are composed of three cavernous barrel vaults of equal
height that open into deep recesses.
In addition to Roman precedents, Giulio had an example of triumphal
Renaissance architecture available to him in Mantua: Leon Battista Alberti‘s
Sant‘Andrea, designed in 1470 for Marchese Ludovico Gonzaga to house a relic of the
blood of Christ and to accommodate the pilgrims that would come to venerate it. 330 Like
the garden façade of the Palazzo del Te, the façade of Sant‘Andrea is based upon a
Roman triumphal arch, while the interior is indebted to the enormous coffered vaults of
the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine. In fact, the rhythm of the garden façade of the
palace is visually indebted to the interior elevation of Sant‘Andrea (Fig. 74). Like
Alberti‘s basilica, the façade is organized around a monumental central archway with
smaller arched openings radiating outward. Additionally, like Alberti, Giulio alternated
329
Forster and Tuttle, "The Palazzo Te," 277.
330
In a letter dated October, 1470 Alberti writes to Ludovico Gonzaga concerning his plan for Sant‘Andrea
and that he understood that ―the principel intention was to have a large space where many people will be
able to view the blood of Christ [la intentione principale era per havere gran spatio dove molto populo
capesse a vedere el sangue de Cristo].‖ Transcribed by Eugene J. Johnson, S. Andrea in Mantua: The
Building History (University Park: The Pennsylvania State Unniversity Press, 1975), Appendix II, doc. I.
111
barrel vaulted openings with smaller niches enclosed by pilasters, and conceived of the
Loggia di Davide as a series of intersecting barrel vaults. Finally, Giulio incorporated a
broken architrave that runs continuously along the façade and yet bisects the arches at
their springing (compare figs. 75 and 76). As in the interior of Sant‘Andrea, the visual
focus of the palazzo‘s façade is the central archway, which juts physically forward
toward the viewer and creates a sense of depth which captures the viewer‘s eye and
draws him into the building. However, the sense of rhythm, both in Alberti‘s elevation
and Giulio‘s façade prevents the eye from remaining lost in the recesses of the building
and moves the viewer‘s attention throughout the structure. While Giulio‘s architrave is
supported by the pilasters, rather than disrupted by them as in Sant‘Andrea, it likewise
unifies the structure and creates a horizontal visual movement that balances the vertical
elevation of the façade.
Like Alberti before him, Giulio Romano did not create copies of previous
architectural monuments. Instead, the Roman artist reorganized the interior elevation of
Alberti‘s monument as an exterior façade in order to imbue the Palazzo del Te with both
the architectural rhythm and emotional impact of Sant‘Andrea. To the example of
Sant‘Andrea Giulio added an attic modeled on relationship between architectural and
sculpted elements in the Arch of Constantine. Like the Dacian soldiers affixed to pilasters
in the Arch of Constantine, the colonettes and pilasters of the garden façade are
positioned over the supportive elements below. However, Giulio‘s façade substitutes the
narrative complexity of Roman arches with spatial complexity, for the slender colonettes
appear too delicate to support the weighty attic, and the shadows created by the
projection contrast sharply with the brightly illuminated façade. Giulio therefore
112
combined ancient and Renaissance elements to create a façade that was a hybrid of Rome
and Mantua that could evoke the glories of ancient Rome, and that reminds the visitor of
the victories of Renaissance Mantua.
Giulio‘s visual reference to Sant‘Andrea would have been particularly meaningful
in light of a new building campaign at Alberti‘s church. As early as 1526 Federico II was
making preparations to recommence construction on Sant‘Andrea, though it appears that
the work itself did not get under way until around 1530.331 Coins from this era depict
Federico II‘s portrait on the obverse, while the reverse shows the reliquary of the Most
Precious Blood.332 By referencing the façade of Sant‘Andrea the garden façade of the
Palazzo del Te reminds visitors of Federico II‘s plan to complete the Albertian structure,
as well as the Gonzaga dynasty‘s possession of a sacred relic. After he was invested with
the title of duke in 1530, Federico II wanted to re-associate his new duchy with its most
precious relic. While the second building campaign and the coins were intended for a
wide audience, the garden façade was much more subtle and therefore intended for those
members of the Gonzaga court and their visitors who would have had the sophistication
and visual skill to appreciate it.
As superintendent of all construction in Mantua, Giulio Romano oversaw the
second building campaign at Sant‘Andrea. 333 While documents as to the actual work are
sparse,334 Giulio‘s faithfulness to Alberti‘s design likely means that he had access to
original plans and designs. In light of his involvement with the construction of
331
Ibid., 23-6. The second building campaign lasted from roughly 1530 to 1565 and comprised the erection
of the transepts to the height of the inner cornice, the north porch, the choir, and sacristies, and part of the
apse.
332
Emanuela Ercolani Cocchi, ed. Mantova gonzaghesca nelle stampe e nelle monete (Mantua: Comune di
Mantova, Assessorato alla Cultura,1982), 57.
333
A documented dated December, 1536 lists Giulio Romano as one of the overseers of the building at
Sant‘Andrea. Johnson, S. Andrea in Mantua, 26.
334
Ibid., 24.Johnson specifically notes the paucity of documents referring to the second building campaign.
113
Sant‘Andrea, Giulio Romano‘s architectural reference becomes more meaningful. More
than a simple act of imitation, the garden façade of the Palazzo del Te physically records
Giulio‘s own involvement with one of the most important monuments of Renaissance
Mantua. Moreover, both buildings create a sense of drama and awe that dwarfs the
human figure, and a processional impetus which draws him further into the structure. In
contrast to the falling triglyphs of the courtyard, or the robust rustication of the north and
west façades, the garden façade exemplifies Giulio‘s growing interest in grand visual
statements that surround the viewer and implicate him in the spaces of the building.
In addition to its relationship to Roman and Mantuan triumphal architecture, the
garden façade also re-enacts ephemeral apparati created by Giulio Roman for the 1530
and 1532 entries of Charles V. Luigi Gonzaga recounts that there were two triumphal
arches in 1530, one at the church of San Giacomo, and another at the Porta della
Guardia. 335 While records for the 1532 arrival of the emperor are scarce, it seems likely
that Giulio designed triumphal arches and other decorations for that entry as well. 336 No
drawings exist of the actual arches that Giulio designed for Mantua; however, a series of
woodcuts depicting ephemera created by Giulio for the 1541 arrival of Charles V in
Milan show the kinds of decorations he might have produced in Mantua. 337 Like the
garden façade of the Palazzo del Te, none of the arches are exact replicas of ancient
Roman architecture. One arch included a façade that is extremely similar to Roman
arches with their four Doric columns that separate three arches, though in Giulio‘s
335
336
Vasari notes that ―for the entry of Emperor Charles V into Mantua, Giulio, by order of the Duke, made
many most beautiful preparations in the form of arches, scenery for dramas, and a number of other things.‖
Since the emperor‘s first visit did not include a drama, it seems that Vasari is collapsing both entries into
one description, and that Giulio designed the apparati for both entries. Vasari, Lives, 2:134.
337
Albicante, Trattato del'intrar in Milano di Carlo V.C. sempre aug.: con le proprie figure de li Archi, &
per ordine, li nobili vassalli & prencipi & signori cesarei.
114
creation only the central archway opens through the structure (Fig. 77). However, the
arch was topped by an equestrian statue of Charles V trampling his enemies, and between
the attic and the arch itself was a frieze of metopes and triglyphs reminiscent of the north
and west façades of the Palazzo del Te.
Like Giulio‘s ephemeral arches, the garden façade is activated by the spectator‘s
movement. Passing from the Loggia di Davide to the gardens, the visitor enacts his own
triumph, thereby becoming a new Caesar. Paradoxically, the viewer is unaware that he is
passing under a triumphal arch until the action has been completed. From the Loggia di
Davide, the visitor knows only that he is about to pass under an arched opening; it is only
after crossing the bridge over the fish ponds and turning around that he perceives the
triumphal form of the doorway (Fig. 47).338 Only by moving through the archway and
activating the space around him can the visitor realize his triumphal entry. He becomes
the embodiment of imperial virtue and military strength associated with triumphal arches
in the Renaissance. 339 While this activity would have had special meaning for Charles V
and Federico II, any elite male visitor could have enacted his masculine triumph in this
way.
Giulio‘s experiences designing the apparati for the emperor‘s entries influenced
his conception of architecture. The latter phase of the Palazzo del Te, particularly the
garden façade, requires the active presence of the viewer. The garden façade becomes a
triumphal archway only when the courtier walks through it. In the same way, apparati are
simple wood and stucco structures until transformed by the processions that passed by
338
339
Margaret Ann Zaho, Imago Triumphalis: The Function and Significance of Triumphal Imagery for
Italian Renaissance Rulers, Renaissance and Baroque Studies and Texts, v. 31 (New York: Peter Lang,
2004), 6.
115
and through them. The Latin inscriptions and allegorical figures on ephemeral triumphal
arches required an astute viewer. During his 1530 entry, the Mantuan apparati were
explained to Charles V by Cardinals Cibo and Medici, 340 and sixteenth-century entries
were often accompanied by printed manuals that recorded the inscriptions and identities
of the allegorical figures.341 Likewise, the garden façade of the Palazzo del Te requires a
viewer who could recognize ancient as well as Mantuan architectural references.
The triumphal façade of the Palazzo del Te manifested Federico II‘s political
ascendancy, while at the same time recalling a famous Mantuan monument. It shows
Giulio‘s invention, for it is certainly not a copy of the Sant‘Andrea façade. Rather, Giulio
took the lessons he had learned from Roman triumphal arches, from Alberti‘s façade, and
from the entry he had staged for Charles V and combined them into one architectural
unit. To truly function, the façade requires the physical presence and actions of the
visitor. For Charles V the façade would have had special meaning, for walking through it
would have recalled similar processions that the emperor had experienced throughout
Italy. Rather than constructing an imperial veneer, his passage under the arch would have
reaffirmed his status as Holy Roman Emperor. In contrast, for the non-imperial courtier,
parading through the archway would have created the illusion of an abiding identity that
was, in fact, as ephemeral as the act itself.
The triumphal procession enacted by visitors via the garden façade is echoed in
the Camera degli Stucchi. Stucco soldiers march around the room, while classicizing and
mythological figures adorn the barrel vault (Fig. 51). The stuccoes strikingly mimic relief
340
341
Watanabe-O'Kelly, "Early Modern European Festivals," 21.
116
sculpture, and are arranged in two registers of marching and mounted soldiers. The
soldiers in ancient Roman costume stride boldly forward, and are accompanied by
wagons and pack animals carrying spoils. The energetic poses and gestures of the human
figures, coupled with the densely layered composition and varying depths of relief in the
stuccoes creates a sense of immediacy and vitality that characterizes Giulio‘s mature style
(Fig. 78). In a preparatory drawing for the stucco friezes the excitement and clamor is
heightened (Fig. 79). The procession surges forward, despite the backwards glances of
both horses and men and the tangle of lances and limbs.
The simulation of relief sculpture in registers and use of ancient Roman military
figures resembles the Column of Trajan (Fig. 52).342 In fact, the room‘s similarity to the
Column of Trajan was what made it noteworthy. Giorgio Vasari remarked that the room
contained ―all the soldiers that are on Trajan‘s Column in Rome, wrought in a beautiful
manner.‖343 However, the figures in the Camera degli Stucchi do not represent a military
campaign, but a victorious return. In the northwest corner soldiers bearing standards
prepare to walk through a diminutive triumphal arch and thus exit the room. Moreover,
while the figure of an emperor on the south wall is identifiable by his commander‘s baton
and laurel wreath, Giulio does not seem to have illustrated a particular historical
triumph. 344 While Giulio borrowed the sculptural form of Trajan‘s Column, the
processional composition of the room was inspired by Giulio‘s involvement in the
ceremonial and artistic life of the Gonzaga court.
342
This visual similarity has been noted by multiple art historians, but was first described by Jacopo Strada
in his 1567 description of the Palazzo del Te. For the text of Strada‘s description, see Verheyen, "Jacopo
Strada's Mantuan Drawings," Appendix II, 68-9.
343
Vasari, Lives, 2:129. In 1568 Jacopo Strada also remarked upon the similarity of the stucco decorations
to the relief sculptures on Trajan‘s Column. See Verheyen, "Jacopo Strada's Mantuan Drawings," 69.
344
Oberhuber, "L'apparato decorativo," 367.
117
Giulio had previously created a facsimile of the Column of Trajan in 1530 for the
arrival of Charles V in Mantua.345 Additionally, Giulio used drawings for his earlier
triumphal decorations in designing the stuccoes (compare figs. 69 and 80).346 By the time
the figures of the Camera degli Stucchi were created, the Column of Trajan had
accumulated its own Mantuan heritage. It was no longer simply an ancient monument
that signified the might and glory of ancient Rome; the column also signified of the
presence of the Holy Roman emperor in Mantua. The Camera degli Stucchi therefore
contains a dual reference, both to the triumphs of the ancient Roman emperors with
whom Federico II wish to identify, and to the imperial connections forged between the
Gonzaga and Habsburg dynasties during Charles V‘s visit.
Moreover, like the garden façade, the Camera degli Stucchi also references
Mantuan artistic traditions. Giulio Romano arranged the stuccoes around the interior
room, purposefully reversing the display of figures on the Column of Trajan. Rather than
having to walk around the exterior of a building or column, the visitor is instead led
through the room by the rhythmic procession. This interior arrangement of the ancient
warriors mimics the display of Andrea Mantegna‘s Triumphs of Caesar, a series of nine
paintings likely commissioned by Federico II‘s father, Francesco Gonzaga (Fig. 81). 347
While the original location of the Triumphs is still a matter of some debate among art
345
Adorni, "Apparati effimeri urbani e allestimenti teatrali," 498-9.
346
Hartt, Giulio Romano, cat. no. 199. Hartt actually argued that the drawing was a preparatory sketch for
the Camera degli Imperatori, an argument which has been refuted by Verheyen; see Chapter 2, n. 21 above.
However, it seems likely that the drawing served a double function, first or one of the decorations prepared
for Charles V‘s 1530 entry, and then, afterward, as a conceptual sketch in the planning of the Camera degli
Imperatori.
347
While there is no conclusive proof, most scholars agree on the patronage of Francesco I Gonzaga.
Bourne, Francesco II Gonzaga, 194-7. However, David Chambers has recently proposed the patronage of
Federico I Gonzaga, the grandfather of Federico II. David S. Chambers, "Il marchese Federico I Gonzaga e
il Trionfo di Cesare di Andrea Mantegna," in Andrea Mantegna, impronta del genio, ed. Roberto Signorini,
Viviana Rebonato, and Sara Tammaccaro, atti del convegno internazionale di studi: Padua, Verona,
Mantua, 8-10 November 2006 (Florence: Leo S. Olschki, 2010), 507-20.
118
historians, by 1512 they had been moved to the Palazzo San Sebastiano by Francesco
Gonzaga and hung in the Sala Grande.348 Mantegna‘s canvases were hung along one wall
so that the soldiers appeared to process through the room, leading the visitor from the
entrance to Francesco‘s audience chamber at the other end of the hall. 349 Mantegna‘s
Triumphs are uniformly lit and often continuous between canvases, meaning that they
were intended to hang in a long gallery with windows running down the opposite side. 350
Given that the disposition of the Sala Grande at the Palazzo San Sebastiano takes exactly
this form, Molly Bourne has proposed that Mantegna may have been involved in the
initial plans for the palace. 351 Whether he contributed to the design of the Sala Grande or
not, Mantegna certainly meant for the paintings to form part of an overall spatial scheme
wherein architecture and painting would complement one another.
Constructed between 1506 and 1512, the Palazzo San Sebastiano sat at the edges
of Renaissance Mantua, just across the river from the Palazzo del Te.352 Mantegna‘s
canvases were the showpiece of the palace: visitors were taken to see them as one of the
sites of the city, and they spawned a host of painted and printed copies. 353 Despite the
fame of Mantegna‘s canvasses, or perhaps because of it, the figures in the Camera degli
Stucchi do not contain direct quotations from the Triumphs. The lack of direct visual
appropriation as well as stylistic differences between Mantegna and Giulio Romano have
led Martindale to argue that Giulio Romano‘s Camera degli Stucchi is not indebted to the
348
Andrew Martindale, The Triumphs of Caesar by Andrea Mantegna in the collection of Her Majesty the
Queen at Hampton Court (London: Harvey Miller, 1979), 92-5.
349
Bourne, Francesco II Gonzaga, 193.
350
Martindale, The Triumphs of Caesar by Andrea Mantegna, 34-5.
351
Mantegna died in September 1506, a few months after the framing pilasters for the paintings were being
carved in Venice. Bourne, Francesco II Gonzaga, 194.
352
Ibid., 188-9.
353
Martindale, The Triumphs of Caesar by Andrea Mantegna, 97-102.
119
Triumphs.354 However, the choice of an imperial procession as a subject and the
placement of the stuccoes around the interior of the room, as well as the proximity of
Mantegna‘s paintings argue for an affinity between the two works.
As his immediate predecessor at the Gonzaga court, Andrea Mantegna was the
artist against whom Giulio Romano was measured. Both artists were clearly valued for
their ability to recreate the glories of ancient Rome in Mantua, and both were intimately
familiar with the art of antiquity. 355 Giulio‘s stucco soldiers therefore take Mantegna‘s
concept of spatial unity and processional impetus to the next level. In the Camera degli
Stucchi the parading figures are part of the wall, not simply paintings that hang on it.
They call attention to the surface of the wall, making it a present actor in the decoration
of the room. The stuccoes are part of the room in a way that is suggested by Mantegna‘s
paintings, but not achieved; after all, the paintings were in fact removed from the wall in
the Sala Grande. 356 Like Mantegna‘s triumphal parade, Giulio‘s stuccoes incite
movement, impelling the viewer to march along with the soldiers.
As with his reference to Alberti‘s Sant‘Andrea on the garden façade, Giulio‘s
allusion to the Triumphs is not a direct copy. Mantegna‘s canvases are much larger, the
figures therefore more clearly delineated, and the details more exacting. In contrast, the
soldiers of the Camera degli Stucchi are more generalized, their features less distinct, and
the details of costume and accessories less precise. Mantegna almost certainly drew upon
354
Ibid., 99.
355
As a Roman native, Giulio Romano had a relationship with the antique forged by a lifetime surrounded
by its relics; see Hartt, Giulio Romano. While Mantegna was a native of Padua, he collected art and
antiquities, and was respected as an authority on ancient art and antiquities. Francesco Lo Monaco, "Su
Andrea Mantegna antiquarius: gli interessi epigrafici," in Mantegna a Mantova, 1460-1506, ed. Mauro
Lucco (Milan: Skira, 2006).
356
The Triumphs were moved to the Galleria della Mostra in the Palazzo Ducale sometime before 1627,
and were then sent to Britain in 1629 as part of the great sale of the Gonzaga collections. Martindale, The
Triumphs of Caesar by Andrea Mantegna, 95-6, 109.
120
multiple literary sources to create his Triumphs, 357 while Giulio‘s models were visual.
However, the way in which Giulio chose to portray the procession, around the inside of
the room, rather than on an exterior surface, is clearly indebted to Mantegna. Like
Mantegna‘s Triumphs, Giulio‘s stuccoes literally surround the viewer, propelling him
through the room, thereby literally involving him in the procession. Like the garden
façade, the Camera degli Stucchi requires the presence of the viewer to function fully.
The viewer moves with the soldiers, following them through the room and into battle.
Additionally, as in the garden façade, the Camera degli Stucchi combines references to
the artistic traditions of both ancient Rome and Renaissance Mantua, while also
incorporating forms and images present in the 1530 entry of Charles V. The Holy Roman
Emperor is continually recalled through these images, his physical presence in Mantua
re-enacted through triumphal spaces and processional movements.
The stuccoes are palpable, physical presences on the surface of the wall just as
visitors are present in the space of the room. However, like the triumphal façade, the
stuccoes also signify absence. They are modeled after the Column of Trajan, one of the
glories of ancient Rome, but they are neither ancient nor Roman. They are permanent
constructions, immovable from the wall to which they are fixed, yet they are based upon
designs for the ephemeral decorations erected for Charles V in 1530. The stucco
procession calls to mind a similar triumphal parade just across the river, but studiously
refrains from direct visual reference to Mantegna‘s celebrated works.
The Camera degli Imperatori reconstructs the imperial presence in Mantua most
literally, for its decorations focuses on ancient rulers and their virtuous deeds (Figs. 53
357
Ibid., 56-68.
121
and 54). However, it is also the only room from the latter building phase which bears the
physical marks of Federico II in the form of his imprese. The imperial, both that of
ancient Rome and that of the Holy Roman Emperor, is manifestly present through image
and absent in body, leaving a space in which Federico II can maneuver. While the room
clearly provides exempla virtutis, or virtuous examples,358 it also presents the emperors
and their deeds as attributes, or imprese of Federico II.
The central ceiling panel depicting Caesar Burning the Letters of Pompey is
accompanied by two smaller roundels depicting the Continence of Scipio and Alexander
Placing the Books of Homer in a Casket, all of which illustrate the self-control and
magnanimity expected from rulers.359 In addition to the narrative scenes, six images of
ancient heroes, usually identified as Philip of Macedon, Alexander, Julius Caesar,
Augustus, and two anonymous warriors, appear on the vault. 360 In the corners are the
four imprese most commonly used by Federico II at the Palazzo del Te: the boschetto, the
salamander, the zodiac, and the Mons Olympus.361 The frescoes illustrate virtues and the
leaders who best exemplify them, while the imprese all revolve around the theme of
constancy. 362 Taken together, the images of the room depict important masculine virtues:
temperance, liberality, and fidelity. While Federico II saw himself as the example and
performer of these virtues, his guests were charged to follow his lead.
358
359
Iconographic identifications proposed by Ibid., 35-7. Bottani identified the tondo with Alexander as
Alexander Finding the Books of Homer, which was accepted until Verheyen‘s analysis. Giovanni Bottani,
Descrizione storica delle pitture del regio-ducale Palazzo del Te fuori della porta di Mantova detta
pusterla: con alcune tavole in rame (Mantua: Giuseppe Braglia, 1783), 33.
360
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 36, 127. Only Julius Caesar and Alexander the Great can be securely
identified, through most authors have accepted Verheyen‘s identification of Philip of Macedon and
Augustus. The imprese depicted are, the boschetto, the salamander, the zodiac, and the Mons Olympus. Cf.
361
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 36, 127.
362
The boschetto, salamander, and zodiac refer to constancy in love, while the Mons Olympus illustrates
constancy in political affairs.
122
In the Camera degli Imperatori human figures fill the picture plane to create the
dramatic effects that intrigued Giulio after 1530. In Alexander Placing the Books of
Homer in a Casket, the tondo is crowded with soldiers who peer over their fellows‘
shoulders and shove their way forward in order to see the momentous act (Fig. 55). The
figures take up most of the space in the fresco, which adds to the immediacy of the
image. With their mouths parted in awe and their heads turned as if to murmur to one
another, the viewer can participate in their sense of anticipation and wonder. In contrast,
in the Camera dei Venti, painted before 1530, Giulio‘s human figures do not occupy as
much pictorial space and the emotional force of the images is not as strong. In a tondo
depicting gladiatorial combat, figures grapple with one another while a crowd looks on
(Fig. 43). The expressions on individual faces are not as clearly delineated as those in the
Camera degli Imperatori, and the cityscape in the background allows the eye to wander,
rather than focus on the bloody battle. Despite the carnage depicted in the Camera dei
Venti tondo, the smaller relative size of the figures, their lack of clear facial expressions,
and the greater depth and landscape detail in the fresco creates a scene that is less visually
and emotionally compelling. The portraits of emperors and military men in the Camera
degli Imperatori are likewise activated. Julius Caesar is a carefully balanced figure that is
still full of incipient motion (Fig. 56). His left leg is slightly bent, as if he is about to
stride out of the painting, yet his forward motion is countered by his backwards gaze, and
bent right arm, which grasps his cloak. His large shoulders fill the frame, and coupled
with his stern gaze, lend him a commanding presence. The vigorous figures that dominate
the picture plane in the Camera degli Imperatori focus the viewer on human emotions and
actions and provide active examples for courtiers to follow.
123
Portraits of Roman emperors that both exemplify and impart virtue to the viewer
also appear in the Camera Picta, a chamber frescoed by Mantegna for Ludovico Gonzaga
in the Palazzo Ducale located in Mantua proper. The vaulted ceiling of the Camera Picta
is most noteworthy for its fictive oculus, which will be discussed below. However, the
vault also contains portraits of the first eight Roman emperors accompanied by scenes
from the myths of Orpheus, Hercules, and Arion in the spandrels below (Fig. 83). 363 Like
Orpheus, Arion was a mythical musician. In the spandrels we see Arion set upon at sea
by thieves, rescued by a dolphin, and the punishment of his attackers by king Periander of
Corinth.364 Taken together the scenes of Orpheus, the frescoes of mythical musicians
have been interpreted as allegories of music and art, with specific reference to the
liberality and justice of those who protect the arts.365 The images of Hercules complement
those of Orpheus and Arion by representing other masculine virtues, namely fortitude and
wisdom. The narrative scenes therefore present a visual excursus on male virtue,366 while
the portraits above present images of actual men whom Ludovico and his guests should
look to as guides to virtuous behavior.
Like the ceiling vault of the Camera Picta, Giulio Romano‘s Camera degli
Imperatori provided ancient examples of masculine virtues for the viewer‘s
contemplation and edification. Mantegna linked the virtues of the Camera Picta to
Ludovico Gonzaga and his family by representing them in portraits below. Giulio
similarly represented the masculine virtues of the Camera degli Imperatori as the
363
The iconography of the Camera Picta is exhaustively discussed in Rodolfo Signorini, Opus Hoc Tenue:
La "archetipata" Camera Dipinta detta "degli Sposi" di Andrea Mantegna: lettura storica iconografica
iconologica della "più bella camera del mondo", 2nd ed. (Mantua: MP Marketing Pubblicità, 2007). For a
more nuanced approach to the ways in visitors would have experienced Mantegna‘s frescoes, see Starn and
Partridge, Arts of Power, 82-148.
364
Signorini, Opus Hoc Tenue, 298-301.
365
366
Ibid., 130.
124
attributes of Federico II by including his imprese in the corners. Both artists use imperial
iconography to communicate the masculine virtues of the Gonzaga, combining both
narrative fresco and historicized portraiture in order to illustrate the virtues as well as to
provide figures that embody them. As with Mantegna‘s Triumphs and the Camera degli
Stucchi, the visual relationship between the Camera Picta and the Camera degli
Imperatori is not one based on direct copying. Rather, Giulio Romano and Federico II
looked to the art of their predecessors as both a source of inspiration and competition. In
the Camera degli Imperatori classical virtues take over the room, creating a space which
is less complex than Mantegna‘s Camera Picta, but one that more immediately
communicates masculine virtues.
When entering in 1532, Charles V would have been placed amidst ancient
emperors and heroes. Much like the triumphal decorations of 1530 that showed the
emperor‘s portrait in company with other emperors and rulers of the Habsburg dynasty,
the Camera degli Imperatori showed Charles V as the descendant and inheritor of past
glories. 367 Like the portraits of his predecessors, the imperial portraits showed him the
way to the future by providing models. He was exhorted to do better than his forebears, to
be more virtuous, more just, and thereby more triumphant.
Like the Loggia di Davide, the Camera degli Imperatori collapses time. Charles
V, Federico II, and their courtiers saw themselves set amidst classical figures, in the
presence of rulers and events from the past. The additional inclusion of Federico II‘s
imprese amongst the imperial images made the transition between past and present more
367
Luigi Gonzaga records that the triumphal arch at San Giacomo was decorated with ―statue grandi fatte et
finte in foggia di marmore di figure di tutti li Imperatori passati dilla Casa dilla p[redet]ta M. tà Ces.a [large
statues made to seem like marble that depicted all the past Emperors of the house of His Imperial
Majesty].‖ Gonzaga, Cronaca, 241-2.
125
immediate, as the viewer had only to shift his eyes to move from ancient Rome to
Renaissance Mantua. However, unlike the Loggia di Davide, the Camera degli Imperatori
is not about mastering and controlling history. Rather, the ability to move through time
allows the viewer to see how ancient virtues are refigured in the person of Federico II,
and, by extension, how he may achieve the same goal.
The decoration of the room enacts both the absence of the imperial in the
‗portraits‘ of men long dead, and its presence, in the form of its inheritor, Federico II. The
duke‘s image inhabits the four corners of the room, encompassing the painted decoration,
and inhabiting the room as three-dimensional stuccoes rather than two-dimensional
frescoes. The imprese assert themselves in the room, thereby affirming the presence of
the duke, and attributing the depicted virtues to him. In the Camera degli Imperatori
Federico II is inserted into the imperial narrative, his imprese included amongst the
portraits and deeds of virtuous emperors. Pictured amongst warriors from the classical
past, Federico II Gonzaga becomes an exemplum virtutis, a model for others to follow.
As in the other parts of the Palazzo del Te finished after the emperor‘s 1530 visit
to Mantua, the Sala dei Giganti carries evident imperial overtones. Jupiter and his eagle
are prominently depicted in the vault above, hurling thunderbolts at the giants below (Fig.
61). The eagle was doubly suitable for Charles V, for it was a long-standing Habsburg
heraldic device, as well as an emblem of imperial Rome. 368 Hartt, followed by most
scholars discussing the Sala dei Giganti, has argued that the terrible figure of Jupiter is
368
126
Charles V personified, crushing and rending his enemies, whether they be religious
heretics, Turks, or rogue princes.369
Certainly, the gigantomachia came to be associated with Charles V, as the theme
also appears in Perino del Vaga‘s frescoes for the Palazzo Doria, as well as in triumphal
apparati made for the visits of Charles V to Bologna and Naples. 370 Additionally, there is
evidence that Charles V himself incorporated the gigantomachia into his personal
iconography. A medal struck for him by Leone Leoni to commemorate the victory over
the protestant princes of the Schmalkaldic League at the battle of Mühlberg in 1547
depicts the Fall of the Giants on the reverse (Fig. 82). The ominous inscription reads:
―Having been warned, learn how to be just.‖ 371 Charles V clearly found the threatening
myth useful in the construction of his imperial persona.
Upon his return in 1532 the emperor saw a room that was under way, but not yet
finished. 372 The Sala therefore commemorates the dual absence and presence of the
imperial persona in Mantua. More than any other room in the Palazzo del Te, the Sala dei
Giganti recalls the awe and spectacle associated with the Holy Roman Emperor. He is the
thundering god, Jupiter, who rains fire down upon the spectator below. However, Charles
V never experienced the room as Giulio Romano intended, and the Sala dei Giganti was
never completed by the union of painting and presence that must have been intended.
369
Ibid., 157. Hartt also suggested, somewhat less plausibly, that the Sala dei Giganti was a kind of apology
or justification for the Sack of Rome in 1527.
370
Elena Parma Armani, "Il palazzo del principe Andrea Doria a Fassolo in Genova," L'Arte 10(1970): 12-
63.
371
The inscription is from the Aeneid, 4.620, while the Fall of the Giants is related in Ovid‘s
Metamorphoses, 1.151-56. J. Graham Pollard, Eleonora Luciano, and Maria Pollard, Renaissance Medals
(Washington, D.C.: National Gallery of Art ; Distributed by Oxford University Press, 2007), 493-4.
372
A letter from Giulio Romano to Federico II Gonzaga dated August 4, 1534 describes the work done in
the Sala dei Giganti. At that time, Giulio writes that ―Finita tutta la volta del camarone.... Resta due faciate
del ditto camarone da depingere [The entire vault of the large room is finished … Two walls of the
aforementioned room remain to be painted].‖ Transcribed by Ferrari, ed. Giulio Romano, 1:633-5.
127
While the imperial connection never fully came to fruition, the monumental
figures of the Sala dei Giganti vividly recall the larger-than-life presence of the Holy
Roman Emperor. Giulio‘s interest in dramatic impact, occasioned by his involvement in
the emperor‘s 1530 triumphal arrival in Mantua, finds its ultimate expression in heavily
muscled forms and contorted facial features of the giants. The overwhelming sensation
created by the garden façade, the tumult of the Camera degli Stucchi, and the emotional
vitality of the Camera degli Imperatori are united in the Sala dei Giganti. The viewer is
dwarfed by the figures and enveloped in a space that appears to fall around him. The gods
above gesture dramatically, their mouths open in screams of shock and outrage, while the
giants below desperately attempt to defend themselves and beg the heavens for mercy
(Figs. 57 and 61). While Giulio creates the impression of vast space beyond the walls of
the room, the massive and expressive forms ensure that the viewer‘s attention remains
fixed upon the immediate action of the gigantomachia.
Not only does the Sala dei Giganti represent the apex of Giulio‘s dramatic style, it
also shows Giulio at his most profound engagement with Mantuan art. The
comprehensive nature of the Sala dei Giganti frescoes and the heightened relationship
between viewer and image are indebted to Mantegna‘s Camera Picta (Figs. 83 and 84).
The frescoes in the Camera Picta create a fictive architectural framework of columns and
vaults which lead the eye inexorably upward to the painted oculus above. Scenes of court
life and trompe l‘oeil tapestries decorate the walls, while the oculus above dominates the
room. The oculus itself opens to the sky above, while women of the court and putti lean
over the balustrade to look down upon visitors. Unlike the figures on the walls, the
women and putti in the oculus engage directly with the viewer, smiling, and gesturing as
128
if waiting for a response from him (Fig. 85). As Starn and Patridge have noted,
Mantegna‘s oculus playfully reverses the act of looking: the spectator is watched from
above, becoming the object of the gaze he once thought to control. 373
Like Mantegna‘s frescoes, the decoration of the Sala dei Giganti enfolds the
viewer in a painted fantasy in which he is the object of a controlling gaze. However,
Giulio took Mantegna‘s ceiling oculus one step further. Unlike the Camera Picta, the
frescoes of the Sala dei Giganti cover the entire surface of the wall, and the decoration
originally extended even to the paving stones of the floor. While the frescoes of the
Camera Picta portray Gonzaga family members in courtiers in various settings and
narrative moments, the Sala dei Giganti is seamless in its narrative and pictorial
approach. In both rooms the viewer becomes subject to actions from above, whether they
be the playful glances of Mantegna‘s putti or the thundering bolts of lightning from
Giulio‘s Jupiter. However, in Mantegna‘s Camera Picta the courtier retains his own
identity at all times; he is never asked to be more or less than member of the Gonzaga
entourage. In contrast, Giulio‘s Sala dei Giganti calls upon the courtier to take on roles,
first as one of the giants, and then as one of the gods above. 374
As in the garden façade, Camera degli Stucchi and Camera degli Imperatori
Giulio sought to visually reference and rival the artistic heritage of Mantua.375 Like most
Italian painting of the fifteenth century, the Camera Picta is constructed around Leon
Battista Alberti‘s concept of single-point perspective. 376 In constructing a work of art
using linear perspective, the artist images the painting as a window and creates a
373
374
For an analysis of role-playing and masculinity in the Sala dei Giganti, see pp. 63-66 above.
375
Rona Goffen, Renaissance Rivals: Michelangelo, Leonardo, Raphael, Titian (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 2002), 329-30.
376
Carabell, "Breaking the Frame," 90.
129
privileged vantage point, a place outside the painting from which it can best be viewed
and from which the viewer can control the image.377 The ceiling oculus of the Camera
Picta masterfully plays upon the notion of pictorial dominance implicit in linear
perspective. Mantegna renders the oculus in dramatic foreshortening to depict the figures
di sotto in sù, as if seen from below. As Starn and Partridge have noted, the vanishing
point at the center of the oculus creates a cone of space below from which it can best be
seen. However, Mantegna inverts the process of viewing, for as the courtier looks up at
the oculus, he meets the gazes of smiling women and playing putti.
Also implicit in linear perspective is the fiction that painted space is a continuum
of physical space, creating an inherent relationship between the beholder and the thing
beheld. 378 Portraits of the Gonzaga family and their court on the north wall of the Camera
Picta seem to actually be set in the room itself, while on the west wall the outdoor
Meeting Scene blatantly ruptures the illusion. At times, the artifice of continuous space is
such that the viewer feels as if he or she is a part of the action, as in Correggio‘s Vision of
St. John on Patmos (Fig. 86). In the domed space of San Giovanni Evangelista in Parma,
the perceived connection between heavenly and earthly realms allows the viewer to
become, like John, a participant in a holy experience. 379 Mantegna‘s oculus takes a more
light-hearted approach, depicting figures that look back from above, impishly inverting
the controlling gaze of the viewer below.
Like the Palazzo del Te, the oculus of the Camera Picta also plays upon notions of
courtly performance found in Castiglione‘s Book of the Courtier. The women who look
377
Ibid.
378
Shearman, Only Connect, 60.
379
Ibid., 186.
130
down upon the courtiers below highlight the fundamental role of being seen at court. 380
The courtier‘s performance of sprezzatura is meaningful only if it is witnessed by others.
Castiglione advises the courtier to ―consider well whatever he does or says, the place
where he does it, in whose presence, its timing, why he is doing it, his age, his profession,
the end he is aiming at, and the means that are suitable.‖ 381 The courtier must be vigilant,
constantly aware of the gaze of those around him. His is a perpetual performance,
carefully calculated to the time, place, and company of the court. Mantegna‘s oculus is a
large, lidless eye filled with the additional eyes of the women who look downward,
anticipating the courtier‘s presence.
If the figures in the Camera Picta are observers of courtly performances, the
frescoes of the Sala dei Giganti are calculated to provoke them. At the ground level
Giulio Romano abolished Alberti‘s framing device, already perilously threatened by
Mantegna, to create an uninterrupted vista of destruction (Fig. 62).382 The viewer
becomes not the object of a gaze, as in Mantegna‘s oculus, nor even a part of the action,
as in Correggio‘s dome. Instead, Giulio creates a space in which the viewer loses pictorial
control and becomes the subject of the room. 383 At the mercy of Jupiter‘s thunderbolts,
astounded by the echoing voices of his fellow visitors, and unsettled by the cobblestone
floor, the visitor is the one who is being destroyed. However, the viewer‘s control is not
completely removed, for a privileged view of the room still exists. In the vault above
380
381
382
Carabell, "Breaking the Frame," 90-1. Carabell argues that Mantegna rigidly upholds Alberti‘s frame by
the inclusion of painted architecture. However the courtier who stands in front of the pilaster on the north
wall reveals the artificial nature of the painted architecture.
383
Ibid.: 95-7. Carabell likewise notes the viewer‘s loss of visual control, though she employs Freudian
psychoanalysis to discuss the way in which this loss of control fragments the subject.
131
Giulio included not only the panoply of Olympian gods, but also the temple of Jupiter,
which, like Mantegna‘s oculus, is represented in perfect perspective.
Like Mantegna‘s oculus, the Sala dei Giganti is at first unsettling due to the role
reversal of image and viewer, but both rooms are also governed by a sense of humor. The
humor of the oculus is more readily apparent: the barrel precipitously balanced on
nothing but a thin rod, the putti who mischievously stick their heads through the railing,
and of course the smiling women. Humor in the Sala dei Giganti is based upon
incongruity and even absurdity. Bulging eyes, painful grimaces, and twisted bodies are so
exaggerated that they become laughable (Figs. 64 and 65). After mastering his fear, the
viewer can appreciate an element of the ridiculous in the contorted features of the giants.
Charles V never fully lost or gained pictorial control in the Sala dei Giganti. In an
incomplete state, with paint cloths on the floor and under-drawings still visible, the
chamber could not have overwhelmed or titillated the emperor by enclosing him in a
seamless illusion of extravagant destruction. Though he stood in the Sala dei Giganti and
is referenced in the room‘s iconography, Charles V was never truly present there. His
person is enacted through image, creating the abiding illusion of a presence that did not
exist. That scholars continue to interpret the room in light of the relationship between
Charles V and Federico II is testament to the efficacy of Giulio‘s art.
Conclusion
As in the earlier decoration of the Palazzo del Te, Giulio Romano‘s concept for
the later rooms manifests princely masculinity. The emphasis on virility in the Sala dei
Cavalli and Camera di Psiche is balanced by an interest in masculine restraint found in
132
the Camera degli Stucchi and prudent judgment displayed in the Camera degli
Imperatori. The wit of the courtyard façade and robust humor of the Camera di Psiche are
also found in the Sala dei Giganti. And the concept of self-mastery so evident in the
Camera dei Venti finds its ultimate expression in the vault of the Sala dei Giganti.
However, unlike the first phases of construction at the palace, the latter work at
the Palazzo del Te is a response to the presence of the Holy Roman Emperor in Mantua.
Giulio Romano‘s work on the triumphal ephemera for the entry and the entertainments
arranged for the emperor at the Palazzo del Te provoked an exploration of the artistic
heritage of Mantua in light of the duchy‘s newly formed political alliance with the Holy
Roman Empire. The emperor was present in Mantua through the surfaces of the Palazzo
del Te, wherein classical imagery incited imperial performances. Courtiers became
triumphant emperors through the garden façade and the Camera degli Stucchi, and
manifested imperial virtue in the Camera degli Imperatori. Finally, in the Sala dei Giganti
they could rise to the status of a god among men. The interplay between surface and
image, absence and presence, performance and body, created the illusion of an abiding
imperial persona in Mantua, physically recording the political alliance of the Gonzaga
and Habsburg houses while imbuing the Gonzaga dukes with the virtues and victories of
ancient and contemporary emperors.
133
Chapter 4
A Staged Revival
After a hiatus of almost forty years, the Palazzo del Te once again assumed an
important role in the ceremonial and dynastic life of the Gonzaga dukes. 384 Beginning in
1574 and ending with the Sack of Mantua in 1630, the palace served as the starting point
of a processional route used for the triumphal entries of foreign rulers and brides who
entered the city. This chapter will analyze the entry of the French king Henry III Valois
which occurred on 2 August 1574, and revitalized the Palazzo del Te. Henry‘s entry re-
inaugurated the Palazzo del Te as a ceremonial center and allowed both the Gonzaga and
the Valois king to enact socially sanctioned masculine gender roles. The triumphal
procession of Henry III established the new parade route, referred to as the Gonzaga axis
by Marina Romani, which ran from the Palazzo del Te, past the Palazzo di San
Sebastiano and the basilica of Sant‘Andrea to the Palazzo Ducale (Fig. 87). The
processional path connected the two most important palaces in the city, the Palazzo del
Te and the Palazzo Ducale, and also carried visitors past the principal monuments. 385
384
From Federico II Gonzaga‘s death in 1540 until preparations for the arrival of Henry III in 1574 the
Palazzo del Te was not part of Gonzaga ceremonial life. In addition, mentions of the palace in the archival
record for that time are almost non-existent. This is likely due to two factors. Firstly, when Federico II died
his eldest son was only eight years old, and when Francesco III died in 1550, the next heir, Guglielmo, was
only twelve years old. The boys were therefore under the tutelage of his mother, Margherita Paleologa, and
his uncles, Cardinal Ercole and Ferrante Gonzaga. Ercole was responsible for the day-to-day management
of the state from 1540 until Guglielmo was declared fit to rule in 1561. The cardinal was noted for his
parsimony, and the ceremonial life at the Gonzaga court during his reign was sharply curtailed. Secondly,
Francesco III and Guglielmo were too young to arrange the more quoditian visits to the palace, such as
horseback riding or hunting excursions, that had characterized their father‘s reign. For Ercole‘s role as
regent, see Mazzoldi, ed. Mantova: La Storia, 2:310-15.
385
Marina Romani, Una città in forma di palazzo: potere signorile e forma urbana nella Mantova
medievale e moderna (Brescia: Centro di ricerche storiche e sociali Federico Odorici, 1995), 101-21.
Romani mistakenly credits the 1530 entry of Holy Roman Emperor Charles V as the moment in which the
Gonzaga axis was first formed. However, Luigi Gonzaga‘s account of the emperor‘s visit to Mantua clearly
states that Charles V arrived through the Porta della Predella, not the Porta della Pusterla. Gonzaga,
Cronaca, 241.
134
The new route meant that Palazzo del Te served as the entry point into Mantua for
illustrious foreign visitors and set the stage for the triumphal procession that would
follow. The palace was therefore more deeply implicated in the Gonzaga family‘s
dynastic identity. Additionally, through Blaise de Vigenére‘s La somptveuse et
magnifique entrée du très chréstien roy Henri III, an account of Henry‘s Mantuan sojourn
published in 1576, the Palazzo del Te was used to construct a rhetoric of the French
king‘s charismatic Christian leadership. Values attached to the palace by Federico II
Gonzaga, such as robust masculinity, princely prudence, and humorous extravagance,
remained important to his heirs and their guests as they revived the use of the Palazzo del
Te in Mantua‘s political life.
The Renaissance of the Palazzo del Te
Henry III‘s entry in Mantua was one of a series of grand processions staged for
the French king in Italy during 1574. On his way to Reims to assume the French crown,
Henry traveled through Italy where he was fêted in Venice, Padua, Ferrara, Mantua, and
Turin. The reasons for the new king‘s detour through Italy were both religious and
political. Henry had recently been elected as the King of Poland when the death of his
older brother, Charles IX, on 30 May 1574 made him the King of France as well. His
Polish subjects were not pleased at the prospect of their new ruler leaving the country
without effective leadership, and sought to actively block his departure from Krakow.
However, Henry successfully left the city and fled to to court of Holy Roman Emperor
Maximilian II in Vienna. 386 From Vienna he chose to travel through northern Italy and
386
Pierre de Nolhac and Angelo Solerti, Il viaggio in Italia di Enrico III re di Francia e le feste a Venezia,
Ferrara, Mantova e Torino (Turin: L. Roux ec., 1890), 43-50.
135
into France via Lyons. While this route would was the longer of the two available to him,
it allowed the king to conduct his entire journey through Catholic territories, rather than
through the Protestant-held lands in Germany. 387 In addition to the relative safety of the
Italian route, the extravagant triumphs staged for Henry in Vienna, Italy, and at Lyons
allowed him to arrive at his coronation as a victorious king whose right to rule was
absolute.388
The French king‘s visit to Mantua was not initially part of his Italian itinerary, but
was arranged while Henry stayed in Venice. Traditionally, the Gonzaga were allied with
the Holy Roman Emperor, and therefore somewhat hostile toward the French. However,
Lodovico Gonzaga, the Duke of Nevers and younger brother of Duke Guglielmo
Gonzaga, was part of Henry‘s entourage. It was likely thanks to his influence, as well as
to a personal plea from Duke Guglielmo Gonzaga, that Henry agreed to visit Mantua.389
Henry had already planned to visit his Este allies in Ferrara, and the Gonzaga were
anxious not to be upstaged by their rivals. Time was of the essence, for the Gonzaga
received little advance notice of the king‘s intentions: as late as 13 July 1574 Henry had
387
Recent tensions between Catholics and Huguenots in France, and, in particular, Henry‘s role in the
Siege of La Rochelle in 1572-1573 and his implication in the St. Bartholomew‘s Day Massacre made travel
through Protestant Germany inadvisable. Philippe Erlanger, Henri III (Paris: Gallimard, 1935), 109-17.
388
During his journey to France Henry‘s younger brother, the Duke of Alençon, formed an alliance with
moderate Catholic and Protestant members of the French court in the hopes that he would be granted a
larger role in the government. At the time, Henry was unmarried, and thus Alençon was the heir to the
throne. Henry‘s staging of his kingship in Italy and France allowed him to establish his royal identity both
abroad and at home, and thus enter into his reign with a stronger negotiating position. For Alençon‘s
machinations, see Arlette Jouanna, "Un programme politique nobiliaire: Les Mécontents et l'État (1574-
1576)," in LÉtat et les aristocraties (France, Angleterre, Écosse) XIIe-XVIIe siècle, ed. Philippe
Contaimine (Paris: Presses de l'Ecole normale supérieure, 1989), 247-77. See also, Evelyn Korsch,
"Diplomatic Gifts on Henri III's Visit to Venice in 1574," Studies in the Decorative Arts 15, no. 1 (2007-
2008): 83-84. Korsch does not link Henry‘s triumphal progress to the political situation in France, but notes
that by traveling through Italy Henry was able to present his journey as a via triumphalis.
389
Lodovico had become Duke of Nevers after his marriage to Henriette of Cleves. In addition to being
heiress to the duchies of Nevers and Rethel, Henriette was a descendent of the powerful house of Bourbon.
Letters from Guglielmo‘s ambassador, Carlo Gonzaga, show that Lodovico was actively involved in
persuading the king to visit Mantua. See ASMn, AG, b. 2593, f. 698r-v and Ibid., b. 1508, f. 604r-v.
Guglielmo Gonzaga traveled to Venice on 20 July 1574 to personally ask the king to visit. See ASMn, AG,
b. 2951, lib. 374, f. 170v-171r.
136
not yet resolved to come to Mantua.390 The ducal secretary Teodoro San Giorgio 391 was
in charge of organizing the entry, and his letters to Guglielmo Gonzaga betray both haste
and an almost constant worry that the Mantuan festivities would not live up to those of
the Ferrarese.
In fact, San Giorgio was receiving regular reports from a Ferrarese informant
called Salvotto, who was evidently passing on information regarding the Este festivities.
On 20 July 1574 San Giorgio wrote from Mantua to Guglielmo Gonzaga that he had just
received a letter from Salvotto who had described ―the great apparati that they are
making [in Ferrara], which are still impossible to equal here.‖392 San Giorgio also
discovered that the Ferrarese were working on six triumphal arches and had planned a
joust which would include sixty men dressed in livery, 393 and that Eleonora d‘Este, the
duke‘s sister, would be surrounded by the most important women in Ferrara ―in order to
show that she has a grand court.‖394 Though San Giorgio dutifully forwarded Salvotto‘s
reports, he did not welcome the additional work that they often occasioned, for he
cautioned that if Guglielmo wanted to arrange something similar to the Ferrarese he must
allow more time.395 When he learned of the king‘s delay in Venice, San Giorgio rejoiced
and wrote that the news ―has consoled me greatly, for in truth I feared it would be done
badly, requiring me to stay on my feet day and night to do the work, and also to spend
390
―... la M.tà Sua se non mi ha dato ferma rissolutione di venir a Mantova ...‖ ASMn, AG, b. 2593, 698r.
391
In documents, his name may also appear as Theodoro Sangiorgio or Teodoro di San Giorgio. For
simplicity‘s sake, I have standardized the spelling of his name.
392
―... li grandi apparati che vi si fanno li quali anchor che qui sia impossibile d‘aguagliare ...‖ ASMn, AG,
b. 2592, f. 464r.
393
―Il Salvotto me replica ... che a Ferrara si lavora intorno alli Archi che sono sei con gran diligenza, et
che preparano di far una quintanata nella quel intravenerano sessanta gentil‘huomini vestiti a livrea.‖
ASMn, AG, b. 2592, f. 469v.
394
―… molti che vengono da Ferrara dicono che in quella città, tutte le gentildone vestono da corotto et che
n‘è fatta una scielta di più prencipali, che staranno sempre apresso di Madama Leonora, per mostrar
ch‘habbi una gran corte.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 2592, f. 484r-v.
395
―Se l‘Eccellentia Vostra volesse pensare a cosa simile ... bisognarebbe anticipar tempo.‖ Ibid., f. 484v.
137
double [the amount of money].‖ 396 The fact that San Giorgio had not even received a
month‘s notice of the king‘s visit, coupled with Guglielmo‘s desire to upstage the
Ferrarese while spending as little money as possible, required a creative solution.
I would argue that the unique challenges presented by Henry III‘s entry into
Mantua lead to a change in the traditional processional route in order to take advantage of
the city‘s artistic heritage. When Charles V visited in 1530 and 1532 he entered the city
through the Porta della Pradella and wended through the Medieval borgo before
emerging at Sant‘Andrea. His procession therefore missed several of the architectural
prizes of the city: the Palazzo del Te, the second Albertian church of San Sebastiano, and
the Palazzo di San Sebastiano, which housed Mantegna‘s Triumphs. In contrast, Henry
III‘s procession took him past all of the major monuments of the city. Not only was the
route more direct, it also compensated for the disparity between the Mantuan and
Ferrarese triumphs. 397 As San Giorgio‘s letters show, the Gonzaga quickly realized that
could not compete with the Este festivities. In order to out-perform their rivals, the
Gonzaga had to capitalize on the works of art and architecture already extant within the
city.
While no surviving letters discuss the reasons behind the change in the
processional route and subsequent reintroduction of the Palazzo del Te in Gonzaga
ceremonial life, Vigenère‘s La somptueuse et magnifique entrée frequently makes
396
―... m‘hanno racconsolato tutto ch‘in vero temevo di farla male, bisognandomi star giorno et notte in
piedi a far lavorare et spender poi al doppio.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 2592, f. 474r-v.
397
San Giorgio had completed five arches, compared to the six erected in Ferrara. No parade books survive
for the Ferrarese entry, but for a discussion of the festivities in Ferrari based upon archival documents, see
Nolhac and Solerti, Il viaggio in Italia di Enrico III, 171-79.. For engravings of the Mantuan arches see,
Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 19, 27, 33,40, 45. However, the Mantuan festivities did not
include a joust, and the tone of San Giorgio‘s letters seems to indicate that the Ferrarese arches included a
larger number of more impressive statues, and that they had marshaled more courtiers to participate in the
procession and other ceremonies.
138
connections between Henry‘s triumph and the art and architecture of Mantua. Although
Vigenère was not among the French courtiers who accompanied Henry III to Italy in
1574, he had previously visited Mantua in the 1550s while on a diplomatic mission in
Italy, and was therefore familiar with the buildings and paintings he describes in his
text.398 Vigenère was obviously impressed with the artistic heritage of Mantua, yet his
praise of the city‘s monuments is also meant to flatter his patron, Lodovico Gonzaga, the
third son of Federico II and Margherita Paleologa. While he lingers on the artistic and
architectural treasures of the city, Vigenère‘s description of the procession follows the
anonymous Entrata del christianissimo re Henri III di Francia, et di Polonia, nella città
di Mantova, which purports to be an account of the entry, but was obviously printed
beforehand to serve as a kind of program. 399 The Entrata is primarily concerned with
explaining the meanings behind the Latin inscriptions and allegorical statues, while
Vigenère‘s text evokes the city of Mantua for his French readers and recasts the entry in
light of contemporary French politics.
Moreover, Vigenère suggests a connection between the haste with which the
triumph was produced and the architectural monuments of Mantua. Early in his text,
Vigenère relates that the preparations for Henry‘s entry into the city were ―completed in a
few hours.‖400 However, he notes, it was easily done ―because the city of Mantua has
398
Richard Crescenzo, Blaise de Vigenère, la Renaissance du regard: textes sur l'art (Paris: École
nationale supérieure des beaux-arts, 1999), 13.
399
Entrata del christianissimo re Henrico III di Francia, et di Polonia, nella città di Mantova. Con gli
sontuosissimi apparati, & feste fatte da Sua Eccellentia, per ricever Sua Maestà Christianissima, (Venice:
Francesco Patriani, 1574). The Italian pamphlet mentions a hunt of deer and rabbits that took place on the
Isola del Te, a hunt which Vigenère explains did not actually take place due to the fact that Henry arrived
behind schedule. However, like the anonymous Italian writer, Vigenère writes Te as T, and describes the
long road that led to the palace, which was covered by trees which made a beautiful shade. The practice of
printing festival books in advance of the actual celebration so that they might be distributed on the day of
the ceremony was quite common. See Watanabe-O'Kelly, "Early Modern European Festivals," 22.
400
―... parachevé en peu d‘heurs ...‖ Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 5.
139
always been better equipped with excellent painters, sculptors and architects than any
other in Italy.‖401 The implication is not only that the city currently has the artistic talent
with which to rapidly complete the preparations, but, also, that Mantua has a wealth of
artistic monuments which it could use to enrich the ceremony.
Vigenère‘s account of the procession also suggests that Mantua‘s artistic heritage
was on display during Henry‘s triumph. In fact, for Vigenère the procession becomes, in
part, a pretext for a discussion of the art and architecture of Mantua. 402 Henry‘s arrival at
the Palazzo del Te is an excuse to praise the ―beautiful paintings and stuccoes with which
all the rooms and apartments are enriched, [all] of the invention of the most exceptional
Messer Giulio Romano.‖403 As Henry entered through the triumphal arch at the Porta
della Pusterla, Vigenère pauses to point out the Palazzo di San Sebastiano which houses
Andrea Mantegna‘s Triumphs, ―which are the most beautiful and accomplished
masterpieces of painting that are to be found today in all the world.‖ 404 At Sant‘Andrea
Vigenère remarks upon Alberti‘s barrel vault, which he calls ―one of the most bold and
beautiful arches on all of the living earth.‖405 Finally, as the procession approaches the
Palazzo Ducale, Vigenère reminds his reader of its beautiful gardens, courts, rooms,
halls, and galleries, all filled with ―paintings, of gold and azure, works in stucco, heads of
marble and ancient statues.‖406 While Vigenère often employs stock phrases in his
descriptions of the works, the fact that he mentions them at all suggests that they were an
401
―... pour ce que la ville de Mantoue a de tout temps été aussi bien pourvue d‘excellents peintres,
imagiers et architectes que nulle autre de l‘Italie.‖ Ibid.
402
Crescenzo, Blaise de Vigenère, 36.
403
―les belles peintures et stucs dont toutes les chambres et appartements sont enrichis, de l‘invention du
tant rare Messer Julio Romano ...‖ Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 9.
404
―... qu‘on tient pour le plus beau et accompli chef d‘œuvre de plate peinture qui soit pour le jourd‘hui en
toute la terre.‖ Ibid., 21. Vigenère mistakenly states that Mantegna‘s Triumphs of Caesar comprises twelve
canvases, when, in fact, there are nine.
405
―...l‘une des plus hardies et superbes voûtes qui soit en tout le demeurant de la terre.‖ Ibid., 29.
406
―peintures, d‘or et d‘azur, d‘ouvrages de stuc, têtes de marbre et statues antiques ...‖ Ibid., 34.
140
integral part of the procession, especially the Palazzo del Te, which is the only structure
which Vigenère discusses at length.
The Palazzo del Te in particular may have been chosen as the entry point for
Henry‘s procession because of its special relationship to the house of Valois. Francesco
Primaticcio, an Italian artist who worked in Giulio Romano‘s workshop in Mantua,
joined the court of Henry III‘s grandfather, Francis I, where he worked on the Chateau of
Fontainebleau. He became director of the work at Fontainebleau in 1540, and continued
as a court painter for Henry III‘s father, Henry II, and brother, Francis II. 407 While no
documents concretely connect him to the Palazzo del Te, it is generally agreed that he
completed some stucco work in the Sala delle Aquile, and may have been responsible for
the frescoes in the Camera del Sole e della Luna. 408 Additionally, there is reason to
believe that Henry III, who was born at Fontainebleau, knew of Primaticcio‘s connection
to the Palazzo del Te, for Vigenère states at two different points in his text that
Primaticcio had studied in Mantua. In his discussion of the Palazzo del Te Vigenère uses
the artistic connection between Giulio Romano and Primaticcio to emphasize the
relationship between the Gonzaga and Valois courts. Vigenère writes that Henry
expressed a desire to see all the paintings and stuccoes of the Palazzo del Te, which
though designed by Giulio Romano, were
407
For Primaticcio‘s work in Mantua and at the Palazzo del Te, see Ugo Bazzotti, "Primatice au Palazzo Te
à Mantoue," in Primatice: maître de Fontainebleau, ed. Dominique Cordellier (Paris: Réunion des Musées
Nationaux, 2004), 68-73. For an overview of his career at the French court, see Henri Zerner, Renaissance
Art in France: The Invention of Classicism (Paris: Flammarion, 2003), 106-21.
408
Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te, 114. A letter detailing the progress of the work in the Sala delle Aquile
from September 1527 refers to a ―pittore bolognese.‖ As Primaticcio was from Bologna and known to be in
Mantua at the time, it is generally agreed that he is the Bolognese artist. However, both Carpi and Bazzotti
attribute the ceiling fresco of the Chariots of the Sun and the Moon in the Camera del Sole and della Luna
to Primaticcio on stylistic grounds, and Bazzotti also credits him with the best examples of the stucco work
in the Camera degli Stucchi. See Carpi, Giulio Romano, 41-42; Bazzotti, "Primatice au Palazzo Te à
Mantoue," 71-72.
141
executed by hand of ... the Abbé of Saint Martin [Primaticcio], who was sent by
the Duke of Mantua [Federico II Gonzaga], father of His Highness and the Duke
of Nevers to the great King Francis to work at Fontainebleau. 409
Vigenère‘s wording implies the Palazzo del Te and Fontainebleau are both the work of
Primaticcio, and that the artist was a diplomatic gift from Federico II to Francis I.
Primaticcio links both the Valois and Gonzaga dynasties as patrons of great art and
builders of magnificent palaces.
The choice of the Palazzo del Te as the beginning of a new ceremonial route in
the city of Mantua was therefore dictated by more than mere convenience. Firstly, the
speed with which the preparations had to be carried out and the obvious desire of
Guglielmo Gonzaga to upstage his Ferrarese rivals meant that Teodoro San Giorgio and
his assistants had to rely upon the art and architecture already within the city, rather than
upon magnificent ephemeral decorations. Second, due to its connection with the Chateau
of Fontainebleau, the Palazzo del Te established a connection between the Gonzaga and
the Valois, and allowed the Gonzaga to present themselves as long-time French allies,
rather than imperial vassals. Finally, the palace itself contained a triumphal arch on the
east façade which would have corresponded to the temporary arches positioned
throughout the city. The Palazzo del Te was therefore visually and politically appropriate
as the entry point of Henry III Valois: it evoked historic connections between the Valois
and the Gonzaga, and presented the French king with triumphal imagery which would be
repeated throughout his procession.
409
―... exécutée de la main propre du dessus dit abbé de Saint-Martin, qui depuis fut envoyé par
Monseigneur le duc de Mantoue père de son Altesse au grand roi François pour travailler à Fontainebleau.‖
Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 9.
142
The Masculinity of the Most Christian King
According to Vigenère, Henry III arrived at the ―Palais du T‖ where he was
greeted by three thousand musketeers who, to the sound of fifes, tambourines, and
trumpets and canon fire. 410 While Vigenère states that Henry saw the entire palace, the
only rooms he mentions by name are the Sala dei Cavalli and the Sala dei Giganti. 411
Since he did not accompany Henry to the palace, Vigenère‘s account cannot be taken as a
record of Henry‘s reactions to the Palazzo del Te. Additionally, between Henry‘s 1574
arrival in Mantua and the 1576 publication of La somptueuse et magnifique entrée the
text was edited for political and religious content, and was specifically re-focused so as
not to enrage the Protestants, while also manifesting a coherent Catholic political
program. 412 Vigenère‘s description of both rooms therefore allows him to articulate
Henry‘s status as an active leader and devout monarch, two attributes which the king was
eager to emphasize in 1576. At times, Vigenère‘s account of the Palazzo del Te, in
particular, and the procession, in general, differs markedly from the Italian Entrata and
the archival documents. His description of the palace and its use shows that the Palazzo
del Te was consistently viewed as a place wherein masculinity could be performed and
shaped, both in actuality and in discourse.
By 1576 Henry III‘s reign was already under attack: his mother‘s continued
involvement in decision-making and his inability to control his younger brother were
seen as a failure to govern his family, and therefore the state; his failure to impose
410
Ibid.
411
In contrast, the anonymous Italian pamphleteer does not mention any rooms in the Palazzo del Te by
name. Cf. Entrata del christianissimo re Henrico III, f. 2r-v.
412
Mark Greengrass, "Henri III, Festival Culture and the Rhetorica of Royalty," in Europa Triumphans:
Court and Civic Festivals in Early Modern Europe, ed. J. R. Mulryne, Helen Watanabe-O'Kelly, and
Margaret Shewring (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), 108-09.
143
Catholicism throughout his realm was attributed to his own intemperance and sinfulness;
and his relationship with his male favorites, the mignons, was condemned as
effeminizing. 413 While it is tempting to view Henry‘s visit to the Palazzo del Te in light
of his reputation for an overactive libido, alleged bisexuality, and willingness to
experiment with gender roles, there is little evidence that these behaviors had come to
light in 1574, and no scholarly consensus exists regarding the truth or impact of the
rumors.414 In fact, the Italian account of the triumph and the archival documents which
detail the preparations for the king‘s entry and entertainment indicate that the Gonzaga
perceived nothing amiss in Henry‘s gender performance. They employed the Palazzo del
Te in order to allow the king to view and participate in a potent, witty, and normative
masculinity.
However, by 1576 Henry‘s attempts to pacify the Huguenots had earned him
enemies among both Protestant and Catholic parties, and had also made it seem as if the
413
Katherine Crawford, "Love, Sodomy, and Scandal: Controlling the Sexual Reputation of Henry III,"
Journal of the History of Sexuality 12, no. 4 (2003): 521-26. Henry III was not accused of sodomy with the
mignons until early in 1577, when anonymous poems described them as ‗Ganymedes,‘ but already in 1576
the mignons were described as effeminate creatures who ―wear their hair long, curled and recurled by
artifice, with little bonnets of velvet on top of it like whores in the brothels ...‖ Pierre de L'Éstoile,
Mémoires-Journaux, ed. G. Brunet, et al., 12 vols. (Paris: Librairie des bibliophiles, 1888), 1:142-
43.Translated by Crawford, "Love, Sodomy, and Scandal," 524.
414
During his reign Henry was, at various times, accused of seducing nuns, engaging in sodomy with his
male favorites, and dressing as a woman during court festivities. The scholarship on Henry III‘s sexuality is
rather large, and there are several conflicting opinions. Some scholars regard his relationship with the
mignons as evidence of a homosexual identity. See, Gilbert Robin, L'énigme sexuelle d'Henri III (Paris:
Wesmael-Charlier, 1968), 123-54; Joseph Cady, "The 'Masculine Love‘ of the ‗Princes of Sodom‘
‗Pracitsing the Art of Ganymede‘ at Henry III‘s Court: The Homosexuality of Henry III and His Mignons
in Pierre de l‘Estoille‘s Mémoires-Journaux," in Desire and Discipline: Sex and Sexuality in the
Premodern West, ed. Jacqueline Murray and Konrad Eisenbichler (Toronto: Toronto University Press,
1996). Some deny the rumors outright, or consider them to have been based on gossip, and therefore argue
that they had little impact on Henry‘s reign. See, for example, Pierre Chevallier, Henri III, roi
shakespearien (Paris: Fayard, 1985), 485-528; David Potter, "Kingship in the Wars of Religion: The
Reputation of Henri III of France," European History Quarterly 25(1995). Still others believe that, whether
true or not, charges of sexual misconduct directly contributed to the failure of Henry‘s reign and his
assassination in 1589. See, for example, Guy Poirier, L'Homosexualité dans l'imaginaire de la renaissance
(Paris: H. Champion, 1996); Crawford, "Love, Sodomy, and Scandal," 513-42.
144
king feared battle.415 The king was therefore at pains to emphasize his piety and his active
role in government, aims which Vigenère‘s Entrée clearly seeks to fill. 416 In this respect,
Vigenère‘s description of Henry‘s activities of the Palazzo del Te is interesting, for the
author uses the imagery of the palace to describe the king as a forceful leader and
defender of the Catholic faith, and therefore illuminates the ways in which the masculine
imagery of the palace was incorporated into the rhetoric of the Most Christian King. His
accounts of the Sale dei Cavalli and Giganti, and the king‘s actions in the courtyard stress
Henry‘s role as a Christian warrior and vigorous leader.
The masculinity that Vigenère describes is one that differs in some respects from
the courtly masculinity that had been embraced by Federico II Gonzaga and Giulio
Romano. The Protestant Reformation and the Catholic Counter-Reformation precipitated
a crisis in masculinity that they were unable to resolve. The abolishment of clerical
celibacy in Reformation churches sought to align masculinity with control of the
household and fatherhood.417 Yet, as Henry III‘s political situation shows, sixteenth-
century masculinity was increasingly suffused with anxiety. When a man proved unable
to control his household, his masculinity was deeply threatened. In response to the
fractured sense of masculinity that developed as a result of the Reformation, Ulrike
Strasser has proposed that Ignatius of Loyola offered a paradigm of charismatic, Catholic
masculinity that, because it had been conceived of before the confessional crisis, was
415
Potter, "Kingship in the Wars of Religion," 488-89.
416
For example, in 1576 Henry began a practice of visiting every parish in Paris with his wife and went
hunting with the court, a typical royal activity, but not something that he enjoyed. These gestures were
largely ineffective, as the abuse on his character grew more violent, not less so. Crawford, "Love, Sodomy,
and Scandal," 523-24.
417
The destabilizing impact of the Reformation upon gender roles has been studied by a number of
historians. For an overview of the literature and analysis of the particular ways in which the Reformation
affected masculinity, see Lyndal Roper, Oedipus and the Devil: Witchcraft, Sexuality, and Religion in
Early Modern Europe (London: Routledge, 1994). Of particular interest is chapter 1, ―Was There a Crisis
in Gender Relations in Sixteenth-Century Germany?,‖ 37-52.
145
―neither embattled nor anxious,‖ and was therefore extremely appealing to Reformation-
era men.418 While Strasser‘s argument is limited to men drawn into the Jesuit order by
Loyola‘s model, Henry III‘s entry into Mantua and its narration by Vigenère suggests that
masculinity in Catholic countries responded to the confessional crisis by conflating the
concepts of military prowess, piety, and compelling leadership.
Henry III‘s visit to the Palazzo del Te represented a different approach to royal
masculinity than the one that had been performed during Charles V‘s visits in the 1530s.
Both at the Palazzo del Te and in the procession that followed, Henry was imagined as a
defender of the Catholic faith who would defeat the impious Protestants in his realm and
return France to the true religion. The reasoned conversation, vigorous dancing, and
celebration of sensual pleasure that had featured in Charles V‘s tour of the palace more
than forty years earlier are absent in Vigenère‘s account. Instead, they were replaced by
religious references, which were meant to craft an image of pious kingship and active
governance. Guglielmo Gonzaga did not welcome Henry III Valois as his feudal overlord
and the inheritor of the Roman empire, but as a Christian crusader who was marching to
war against the unholy Protestants.
Christianity at the Palazzo del Te
Vigenère begins his account of the king‘s visit to the Palazzo del Te by describing
the thousands of soldiers that had been marshaled to greet him as he approached the
palace. Upon both his entry and exit from the palace, salvos of gun and canon fire were
released from the city walls, which the Italian Entrata describes as so impressive that ―it
418
Ulrike Strasser, "'The First Form and Grace': Ignatius of Loyola and the Reformation of Masculinity "
in Masculinity in the Reformation Era, ed. Scott H. Hendrix and Susan C. Karant-Nunn (Kirksville, MO:
Truman State University Press, 2008), 59.
146
seemed as if the great noise would destroy the world.‖ 419 The martial display that greeted
Henry III outside the palazzo welcomed him to Mantua as a military commander whose
actions would have resounding consequences.
After he entered the palace, Henry proceeded directly to the Sala dei Cavalli, ―so-
named for the excellent breed of Mantuan horses, which are painted from nature,‖ where
the king and his party partook of a collation of confections that had been laid out for
him. 420 The horses, literally connected to the concept of chivalry, symbolized nobility,
and their robust strength represented the rugged virility of the Gonzaga and their guests.
Like his father before him, Guglielmo Gonzaga capitalized on Giulio Romano‘s vivid
frescoes by presenting Henry III and all of the dukes and barons who accompanied him
with horses as they left the Palazzo del Te to begin the triumphal entry. 421 The gift of a
black warhorse to Henry, one of the Mantuan breed that he had seen depicted on the
walls of the palace (Fig. 26), closely associated the Gonzaga and the Palazzo del Te with
courtly largess and robust physicality, while also casting Henry as a warrior and
chivalrous knight.
The Sala dei Cavalli not only depicts the famed Gonzaga horses, bred for war, but
also Hercules‘ victorious battles with human and animal foes.422 Hercules embodied
Renaissance concepts of virtuous masculinity: he was physically strong, and personified
fortitude and temperance.423 Moreover, by the late sixteenth century his mythic labors
419
Entrata del christianissimo re Henrico III, f. 2v.
420
―… ainsi appelée pour les chevaus excellents de la race de Mantoue, qui y sont peints au naturel.‖
Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 8.
421
―... li fu presentato un cavallo morello belissimo guarnito tutto di morello come anche era vestito sua
Maestà, & anche ne fu presentato alli Illustrissimo Duchi, & tutto il resto de baroni ...‖ Entrata del
christianissimo re Henrico III, f. 2v. Cf. pp. 80-82 above.
422
Though four of the panels depict episodes from the mythical labors of Hercules, the two panels
depicting the Rape of Deianara and Hercules and Antaeus are not taken from the labors.
423
Simons, "Hercules in Italian Renaissance Art," 632-64
147
were iconographically linked to Christian kingship.424 Hercules appears again in Henry‘s
triumph, where on the largest triumphal arch at the Porta della Guardia, six of his labors
are depicted (Fig. 88). As Henry-Hercules, the crowned hero defeats the Hydra, which
represents the ―monsters of France,‖ 425 and crushes Antaeus, proving that ―Henry will
overcome the mighty powers of wickedness [impietas] in the end.‖426 The religious tenor
to Latin inscriptions coupled with the statues of Hercules suggests that Henry would have
viewed the frescoes at the Palazzo del Te in a similar vein.
Vigenère‘s account of the Palazzo del Te continues to make religious and political
connections between Henry and the Huguenots in the Sala dei Giganti. Like Charles V
before him, the story of the triumph of the gods over the giants seems to have mirrored
Henry III‘s military career. Vigenère almost certainly had the rebellious Huguenots in
mind when he wrote of the giants that, ―it seems proper that these clumsy masses of flesh
trying so hard to climb upward should bring down the ceiling of the building on the heads
of the viewers.‖427 The implication is that, like the giants who fought against their
masters, the Huguenots deserve swift and harsh punishment. In the context of Henry‘s
political and religious problems, Vigenère‘s implicit connection between the giants and
the Huguenots not only articulates a strong Catholic policy, but grants the king an active
and god-like role as Jupiter. Charges of inactivity were what plagued Henry most, as he
had failed to subdue the Protestants and also had yet to produce an heir. In fact, in 1576,
424
Crawford, Perilous Performances, 61-62.
425
―Henrice Magne Rex & alter Hercules fortis domare perge monstra Gallica.‖ Entrata del christianissimo
re Henrico III, 4r. Vigenère alters the inscription to end ―Fortis, domare perge monstra bellica,‖ another
instance of careful editing to present the king as a strong military man who pacifies all war-mongers,
including, but not limited to Protestants. See Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 26.
426
―Antaeo Henrici tandem virtute potentis/ Impietas vires addere victa timet.‖ Vigenère, La somptveuse et
magnifique entrée, 30.
427
―Et il semble proprement que ces lourdes masses de chair s‘efforçant de grimper contremont doivent
accabler et amener en bas acev aux le comble de l‘édifice sur la tête des regardants ...‖ Ibid., 9.
148
the same year in which Vigenère‘s text was published, Henry publicized the fact that he
was actively trying to father a son with his wife, Louise of Lorraine. 428 Vigenère‘s text
not only presents Henry as a triumphant king, but also as a deified ruler who will
vigorously pursue the enemies of the faith.
After he toured the Palazzo del Te, Henry entered its courtyard. He sat upon a
throne facing the Loggia di Davide and received Mantuan dignitaries, including the
bishop and principal clergy, who praised him for his ―singular zeal, piety, devotion, faith
and sincerity‖ and urged him to act as the ―wise and prudent pilot of the boat of
government against the violence of a strong and furious storm.‖ 429 Once again, the
Huguenots are described as violent, but the clergy exhort Henry to deal with the
Protestants prudently, rather than with the divine wrath pictured in the Sala dei Giganti.
Vigenère‘s focus on the actions and images most associated with warfare and
Christianity draws on concepts of piety and dynamic leadership to depict Henry III as
masculine. 430 In the Sala dei Giganti, Henry could be compared to Jupiter, whose defeat
of his enemies was swift and absolute, while the Huguenots became the base giants,
whose futile rebellion had brought about their own destruction. In the presence of Henry
III, the Most Christian King, the images and spaces of the palace took on a religious
meaning that had not been present forty years earlier. Hercules personified not only
robust, yet restrained masculinity, but also the ideal Christian prince; and the horse
portraits not only recollected the Gonzaga reputation for magnanimity and virility, but
428
Crawford, "Love, Sodomy, and Scandal," 523.
429
―...zèle, piété, dévotion, sincérité ... sage et prudent pilote au gouvernement d‘une barque contre la
violence d‘une forte et furieuse tourment.‖ Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 11.
430
In this context, it seems odd that he did not include the Camera degli Stucchi, with its direct associations
with imperial triumph, nor the Camera degli Imperatori, which depicts virtuous ancient rulers. However,
both are smaller rooms, and therefore both visually and spatially less impressive than the Sale dei Cavalli
and Giganti.
149
also the legions of soldiers who follow Henry into war against the Protestant heretics. In
the courtyard, Henry was greeted by the representatives of the religion he was honor-
bound to defend, reminded of his duty, and praised for his efforts thus far.
In an interesting omission, Vigenère simplifies his narrative to exclude actions
which took place in the Camera di Psiche. While Vigenère contends that Henry was
served a light meal in the Sala dei Cavalli, 431 archival documents clearly state that Henry
dined in the Camera di Psiche. A collation ―full of very fine confections, ice, and fruit, set
for the gentlemen of His Majesty‖ was provided in the Sala dei Cavalli, 432 while a
second, larger meal was served in the Camera di Psiche to Henry III and the French and
Italian princes who accompanied him. 433 Although Vigenère‘s oversight may be a simple
mistake attributable to the fact that he was not present, it seems unlikely that he would
portray the king participating in a serious breach of protocol by dining in the company of
lesser courtiers. 434 I would like to suggest that Vigenère purposefully omitted any
reference to the Camera di Psiche because its imagery was not easily interpreted as either
martial or pious. With the king beset by a reputation for effeminacy and growing rumors
of sexual misconduct, any description of the Camera di Psiche might have aroused
inappropriate associations. The banquet of nymphs and satyrs might have called attention
to Henry‘s own satirical attributes, namely his reputation for sexual intemperance. The
tale of Cupid and Psyche could have been interpreted in light of Henry‘s own
431
―... sa dite Majesté descendre en ce palais, où en la salle des chavaux ... était dressée une très magnifique
collation de confitures, dragées et autres ouvrages de sucre. Avec un grand buffet de vaisselle d‘or et
d‘argent ...‖ Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 8.
432
―... tutta piena di finissimi confetti ghiaccio e frutti, apparecchiata per li gentili huomini della Maestà.‖
ASMn, AG, b. 389, f. 182r.
433
Ibid. See also, ASMn, AG, b. 389, f. 153v, which provides a very similar account.
434
This was a rather clear violation of decorum. Kings and nobility rarely dined in the company of their
courtiers, and were usually provided with a separate dining room. When they did banquet in view of the
lesser noblemen, they almost always sat on a raised dais. Strong, Feast, 176-77.
150
domineering mother, Catherine de‘ Medici, who like Venus had not approved of her
son‘s bride, and the general opinion that Louise of Lorraine was not of sufficient social
status to be queen.435 Rather than negotiate the troublesome potential of the Camera di
Psiche, Vigenère chose to avoid it altogether.
In 1574, however, Henry had not yet encountered the scurrilous rumors that
would plague his reign, and there is little evidence that his behavior had begun to cause
anxiety. 436 In contrast to the religious and political discourse in which Vigenère‘s
involves the Palazzo del Te, the Gonzaga clearly expected Henry III to appreciate the
Camera di Psiche, as they went to pains to have it furnished according to his tastes.437
The associations of the Camera di Psiche with banqueting, sensuality, and enlightening
conversation would likely have amused Henry III and his entourage. Like Federico II
Gonzaga before him, the unmarried French king likely participated in unraveling the
multiple virtuous and not-so-virtuous meanings of the decorative program. The Camera
di Psiche was integral to the image of masculinity virility that both the Gonzaga and
Henry sought to cultivate, yet for Vigenère the room and its use by the Gonzaga was
incompatible with the concept of Christian masculinity that he sought to develop.
435
Crawford, "Love, Sodomy, and Scandal," 18-520.
436
Henry had apparently entered a joust dressed as an Amazon in 1564, but it cannot be ascertained how
widely this was known before Pierre de l‘Estoile and other detractors began their pamphlet campaigns. See,
Potter, "Kingship in the Wars of Religion," 502. The king had carried on a relatively public relationship
with the courtesan Veronica Franco while he was in Venice, but if anything that might have allayed fears
concerning his sexual habits. See, Nolhac and Solerti, Il viaggio in Italia di Enrico III, 120-21.
437
ASMN, AG, b. 389, f. 158r. The document advises that the Camera di Psiche must be equipped with a
table ―da due piatti,‖ for the king‘s use. Ibid., f. 242r also mentions a table for eight persons ―da 2 piatti.‖
The phrase could be interpreted as either a set table or a larger table; either way, the documents make clear
that special attention was given to the furnishing of the Camera di Psiche for the king‘s especial enjoyment.
151
Conclusion
Henry III was the last foreign monarch to be given a triumphal entry into Mantua,
and Vigenère‘s attempt to sanctify the Palazzo del Te does not seem to have influenced
the way in which the palace was used by the Gonzaga. In fact, the aspects of the palazzo
that Vigenère avoided were exactly those which the Gonzaga seemed to find most useful.
The overt sexuality depicted in the frescoes and the image of virile masculinity and
dynastic continuity offered by the palace played an important part in the performance of
gender roles within Gonzaga marriage ceremonies. However, Henry‘s entry was
instrumental in the revived use of the Palazzo del Te and the creation of a processional
axis that traveled past the most important artistic and architectural monuments of the city.
Through the continued use of the palace and the parade route, the Gonzaga could remind
visitors of their long history of magnificent patronage. Moreover, Henry III‘s triumph had
shown the Gonzaga that the Palazzo del Te still had the capacity to delight and surprise
visitors: Vigenère marveled at the ability of a spectator to hear whispers from across the
Sala dei Giganti ―without losing a word.‖438 Finally, the imagery of the Palazzo del Te
encouraged the performance of active masculinity that was as important in a martial
setting of Henry III‘s triumph as it would be in a marital context. While the discourse
surrounding Henry‘s visit the Palazzo del Te omitted reference its sexualized imagery,
for Gonzaga newly-weds the frescoes depicted sexuality as a pleasurable activity which
led to procreation, concepts which were integral to the concept of Renaissance marriage.
The entry of Henry III Valois revived the use of the Palazzo del Te in the
Gonzaga dynasty‘s construction of itself as magnificent, virtuous, and virile men.
Changes in the construction of Christian masculinity occasioned by the growing conflict

438
―... san en perdre un seul mot.‖ Vigenère, La somptveuse et magnifique entrée, 9.
152
between Protestants and Catholics meant that men performed a kind of militaristic piety
that combined notions of masculine vigor and triumph already present at the Palazzo del
Te. As Vigenère‘s account of Henry‘s visit to Mantua demonstrates, the images and
spaces of the Palazzo del Te not only incited performances of masculine virtue, they also
allowed for a rhetorical construction of masculinity. Vigenère‘s carefully edited account
demonstrates that Giulio Romano‘s dynamic art and architecture continued to function as
spaces wherein men could enact masculinity, and that the gender roles performed at the
Palazzo del Te were carried beyond its walls.
The success of Henry III‘s triumphal entry ensured that the Palazzo del Te would
continue to be employed in Gonzaga processions as a means to impress foreign brides
and their families with the dynasty‘s splendor and virility. However, as the next chapter
will suggest, the spaces of the Palazzo del Te could also be troubled by failed gender
performances. Rumors surrounding Vincenzo Gonzaga sexual potency, or lack thereof,
made it difficult for the young prince to enact the virile image of masculinity that the
Palazzo del Te normally provoked, which caused problems of interpretation. Changes to
the way in which the palace was experienced by brides after Vincenzo‘s second wedding
in 1584 suggest that the Gonzaga recognized the disruptive possibilities of the Palazzo
del Te and sought to mitigate them. Despite the problems occasioned by Vincenzo‘s
failure to perform, the entries of Henry III and Margherita Farnese established an
association between the arrival of foreign nobles, the Palazzo del Te, and the Gonzaga
dynasty‘s conception of itself as vigorously masculine that would last until the end of the
dynasty in 1627.
153
Chapter 5
Performance Anxiety
In 1581 Margherita Farnese entered the city of Mantua as the triumphant bride of
Vincenzo I Gonzaga. In contrast to generations of Gonzaga brides before her,
Margherita‘s wedding procession began at the Palazzo del Te, where she was formally
received by her new husband and father-in-law. Like the entry of King Henry III seven
years earlier, after visiting the Palazzo del Te Margherita entered Mantua through the
Porta del Pusterla and processed through the city to the Palazzo Ducale. Artillery salvos
boomed from the city walls, fireworks lit the sky, hundreds of richly dressed soldiers and
courtiers accompanied the bridal procession, and a crowd of thousands thronged to
welcome the young princess.439 Despite the brevity of Margherita‘s marriage to
Vincenzo, her entry set the stage for almost forty years of bridal performances at the
Palazzo del Te.
Beginning in 1581, the Palazzo del Te served as the official point of entry for
Gonzaga brides: in addition to Margherita Farnese, the palace played host to Vincenzo‘s
second bride, Eleonora de‘ Medici in 1584, Margherita di Savoia, who married Francesco
IV in 1608, and Caterina de‘ Medici, who came to Mantua as the bride of Ferdinando
Gonzaga in 1617 (Fig. 1). More than simply a starting point, the palace was the locus of
the bride‘s official welcome by the Gonzaga family, and the space wherein the foreign
princess became a Gonzaga wife. The Palazzo del Te was a site of transformation and a
space in which both bride and groom enacted their newly acquired status as husband and
439
See, Archivio di Stato di Firenze (ASF), Mediceo del Principato (MdP), b. 2958 transcribed by Nicoletta
Lepri, "Nuovi documenti sulle nozze di Vincenzo Gonzaga e Margherita Farnese(1581)," Civiltà
mantovana 42, no. 124 (2007): 185, doc. II.
154
wife. Each bride‘s experience of the Palazzo del Te was affected by the gender
performances of the Gonzaga princes. Rumors of Vincenzo‘s impotency and the specter
of Ferdinando‘s clandestine marriage to a lady-in-waiting at the Gonzaga court tinged
their performances as bridegrooms with anxiety. Their failure to perform a robust,
confident masculinity meant that the palace took on meanings that could not have been
anticipated by Giulio Romano or Federico II. The problematic performances of Vincenzo
and his son Ferdinando troubled the images of the palace and caused changes to the way
in which it was used by later generations.
Bridal Bodies
The Gonzaga wedding processions of the late sixteenth and early seventeenth
centuries allow for the examination of the ways in which women, specifically brides,
would have viewed the masculine and erotic images of the Palazzo del Te. As daughters
of Italian princes, the Gonzaga brides were elite women who had been surrounded by art
their entire lives. They were educated viewers, capable of understanding many of the
erudite references contained within the Palazzo del Te. They were also no strangers to
nudity and erotica in art, for the houses of their male family members brimmed with
paintings by Bronzino, Titian, and Parmigianino. 440 The brides would also have been
familiar with wedding cassoni and panel paintings which depicted the social and sexual
440
The Farnese were prominent patrons of Parmigianino, and in the 1580s Margherita‘s brother Ranuccio
owned Parmigianino‘s Lucrezia, which depicts the Roman matron with one breast bared and lips slightly
parted in the act of stabbing herself. Cardinal Alessandro Farnese (1520-1589) owned Titian‘s Naples
Danae, and it may have been in Parma by 1584. See Lucia Fornari Schianchi and Nicola Spinosa, eds., I
Farnese: Arte e Collezionismo (Milan: Electa,1995), cat. 14 and 28. Bronzino painted almost exclusively
for the Medici and their allies. See pp. 186-188 below for a discussion of the way in which his work may
have influence Eleonora de‘ Medici‘s experience of the Palazzo del Te. The collections of the House of
Savoy are not well documented, but see Mauro Natale, Frédéric Elsig, and Vittorio Natale, eds., La
Renaissance en Savoie: les arts au temps du duc Charles II (1504-1553) (Geneva: Musées d'art et
d'histoire,2002).
155
goals of marriage, and they would therefore have been intellectually and visually
prepared to view the Palazzo del Te within the context of other nuptial imagery.
In the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries the institution of marriage
underwent a transformation. In 1563 the Council of Trent issued a decree meant to
reaffirm the sacramental nature of marriage, but which also granted ecclesiastical and
civic authorities greater control over nuptial rituals. Faced with the Protestant
establishment of divorce, the Catholic Church asserted the indissoluble nature of
matrimony and outlined the steps that couples had to take to procure a legitimate union.
Marriage was no longer a private, spiritual affair that could be transacted simply, and
secretly, by mutual consent of the couple. 441 Instead, couples had to publicly declare their
intention to marry, and the ceremony itself had to be conducted by a parish priest in the
presence of witnesses. The public announcement was meant to allow couples to discover
impediments to the marriage, such as close kinship or the previous engagement of one of
the parties, and was also designed to put an end to clandestine marriages, in which the
couple married without the knowledge or consent of their families. 442 Failure to observe
the required steps invalidated the marriage, and left the couple open to civil charges such
as fornication or rape.443
Before the Council of Trent, marriage was a process that legitimized and
publicized the union step by step: promises to marry, exchanges of gifts, the signing of
documents, and finally, the procession of the bride to her marital home and
441
James A. Brundage, Law, Sex, and Christian Society in Medieval Europe (Chicago: University of
Chicago Press, 1987), 235-40, 335-36, 61-64. Pre-Tridentine Catholic doctrine consistently affirmed that
mutual consent, whether secret or not, constituted marriage.
442
Ibid., 563-65.
443
Davidson, "Theology, Nature, and the Law: Sexual Sin and Sexual Crime in Italy from the Fourteenth to
the Seventeenth Century," in Crime, Society and the Law in Renaissance Italy, ed. Trevor Dean and K.J.P.
Lowe (1994), 96-97.
156
consummation. 444 Post-Tridentine matrimony required no such elaborate rituals because
the publicity of the marriage was ensured by the reading of the banns and the stipulation
that the ceremony be conducted before witnesses. However, despite the Church‘s
attempts to regulate matrimony, the Gonzaga and other noble families continued to
engage in the traditional rituals that had legitimized it for centuries. In fact, after the
Council of Trent, nuptial festivities for elite couples became more elaborate: they often
spanned several days or even weeks, and included tournaments, theatrical
productions, and banquets that were staged throughout the family‘s domain. 445
As the starting point for the bride‘s triumphal entry, the Palazzo del Te was
implicated in the centuries-old tradition of traductio, the ritual procession that delivers
the bride from her natal to her marital family. 446 The wedding procession served to
publicly proclaim the wedding, as well as to display the wealth and nobility of the
families involved. 447 In elite marriages, the procession legitimized not only the union, but
also the role of the incoming bride as future duchess. As she entered the city, the bride
was welcomed by her new family with gifts and by the people with cries of acclamation,
both of which affirmed her status as consort and, at least in theory, co-ruler.448 As Adrian
Randolph has argued, the family‘s gifts of items for the bride‘s body, such as jewels and
444
Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, "Zacharias; or The Ousting of the Father: The Rites of Marriage in Tuscany
from Giotto to the Council of Trent," in Women, Family, and Ritual in Renaissance Italy (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1985), 183-87.
445
For example, the festivities for the wedding of Grand Duke Ferdinando I de‘ Medici and Christine de
Lorraine in 1589 lasted for a month and included processions through Livorno, Pisa, and Poggio a Caiano
before the triumphal entry and copious entertainments in Florence. See Saslow, The Medici Wedding of
1589.
446
Nicole Belmont, "The Symbolic Function of the Wedding Procession in the Popular Rituals of
Marriage," in Ritual, Religion, and the Sacred: Selections from the Annales--économies, sociétes,
civilisations, ed. Robert Forster and Orest A. Ranum (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1982), 2;
Brucia Witthoft, "Marriage Rituals and Marriage Chests in Quattrocentro Florence," Artibus et Historiae 3,
no. 5 (1982): 49-50.
447
Witthoft, "Marriage Rituals and Marriage Chests," 46, 48-9.
448
Watanabe-O'Kelly, "Early Modern European Festivals," 16.
157
clothing, drew attention to and sexualized the bride, and constructed her body as a
receptacle for the male seed which would engender children. 449
For the Gonzaga brides, the bestowal of gifts and the resultant sexualizing of their
bodies occurred at the Palazzo del Te. In all of the processions under examination, upon
her arrival at the palace, the bride was presented with jewels and dresses which she then
wore during her entry.450 In dressing herself in the groom‘s gifts, the foreign princess
divested herself of her natal identity, literally changing into a Gonzaga consort. The
Palazzo del Te was the space in which the foreign bride became part of the Gonzaga
family, as well as the locus in which her virginal body was re-made into that of a wife
and mother. The groom‘s transformation was less drastic, but no less important. For, if
the body of the bride is sexualized to become that of a mother, the body of the groom
becomes that of a father. Ideally, the Palazzo del Te would have supported the
performances of the bride and groom. Its erotic and virile imagery would have served as a
lush and fecund space that provided a visual impetus and mirror to their own experiences.
However, at times, the Gonzaga grooms proved incapable of acting the part. While
449
Adrian W.B. Randolph, "Performing the Bridal Body in Fifteenth-Century Florence," Art History 21,
no. 2 (1998): 193. Randolph agrees with Klapisch-Zuber that, even though they were might bestowed
before the wedding night, the groom‘s gifts to the bride represented the functional equivalent of the
mancia, the gift given to the bride upon consummation of the union. Randolph argues that the gifts
therefore served as a reminder of her sexual duties as wife. See also, Christiane Klapisch-Zuber, "The
Griselda Complex: Dowry and Marriage Gifts in the Quattrocento," in Women, Family, and Ritual in
Renaissance Italy (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985), 218-24.
450
For gifts left for Margherita Farnese in 1581 see, ASMn, AG, b. 2614, fasc. XIII, f. 450r-451v; for
Eleonora de‘ Medici (1584) see, ASMn, AG, b. 204, f. 222v and ASF, MdP 6354, f. 420r, Medici Archive
Project (MAP), doc. 16152; and for Margherita di Savoia, Federico Follino, Compendio della suntuose
feste fatte l'anno MDCVIII nella citta di Mantova, per le reali nozze del Serenissimo Principe D. Francesco
Gonzaga, con la Serenissima Infante Margherita di Savioa (Mantua: Aurelio and Lodovico Osanna, 1608),
7. Documents for the 1617 wedding of Ferdinando Gonzaga and Caterina de‘ Medici are sparse, and while
they mention that she stopped at the Palazzo del Te for some hours, they are not specific about her
activities there. See, Attilio Portioli, Il matrimonio di Ferdinando Gonzaga con Caterina de' Medici (1617)
(Mantua: Mondovi, 1882), 14-15. Given that, like her predecessors, Caterina began her entry from the
palace after a long journey, it is reasonable to assume that she, too, rested and changed her attire there.
158
previous chapters have focused upon the role of the Palazzo del Te in the performance of
normative masculinity, this chapter investigates the subversive potential of the palace. 451
Nuptus interruptus
The wedding of Vincenzo Gonzaga and Margherita Farnese was meant to create a
strategic alliance between the neighboring courts of Mantua and Parma and end nearly
forty years of hostility between the families. 452 Vincenzo‘s father, Guglielmo, poured
funds into the nuptial ceremonies in an attempt to impress the upstart Farnese family with
the wealth and grandeur of the venerable Gonzaga dynasty. Over 12,000 scudi were spent
on carriages alone, and the scandalized Gonzaga even provided Margherita with ladies to
accompany her on the journey from Parma when it became clear that the Farnese had no
intention of bearing the expense. 453 While the marriage was annulled after only two short
years, Margherita Farnese was the first bride to begin her wedding procession at the
Palazzo del Te. Moreover, the festivities arranged for Margherita and Vincenzo in 1581
were consciously reproduced and enlarged during Vincenzo‘s second wedding in 1584.
Margherita Farnese‘s wedding procession differed markedly from those of
previous Gonzaga brides. Her predecessors had arrived first at the Palazzo di Porto to the
north of Mantua, which was also known as the Palazzo di Madama because it was
traditionally used as a suburban retreat by the Gonzaga duchesses. 454 As the Duchess‘s
451
Butler, Gender Trouble, 185-7. Butler is, in fact, primarily interested in the ability of performance to
destabilize gender norms.
452
Mazzoldi, ed. Mantova: La Storia, 2:317-3; 3:5. Cardinal Ercole Gonzaga disagreed with the political
machinations of Pope Paul III Farnese, and in 1547 Ferrante Gonzaga had occupied the Farnese city of
Piacenza under orders from Holy Roman Emperor Charles V. Ferrante likewise assumed command of the
imperial troops when they attacked Parma in 1551.
453
Respectively, ASMn, AG, b. 201, f. 54r-57v and Ibid., b. 2952, lib. 381, f. 7r-8v.
454
The Palazzo di Porto was razed in the eighteenth century. Like the Palazzo del Te, Porto was a suburban
villa, and was a popular summertime retreat. Its status as the Villa di Madama was first established by
159
palace, Porto served as the place in which the new bride first encountered her mother-in-
law and other female members of the Gonzaga household. The bride would then enter
the palace to eat, rest, and prepare herself for her official entry into the city. The
procession then entered Mantua proper and traveled to the church of Sant‘Andrea, where
the marriage was formally blessed by the bishop. The bride and groom then proceeded
together to the Piazza di San Pietro, which was usually decorated with a triumphal arch,
and then into the castle (Fig. 89).455
In contrast, Margherita Farnese‘s procession followed the route established by
Henry III Valois in 1574: it began at the Palazzo del Te, on the opposite side of the city
and continued up a broad avenue past the basilica of Sant‘Andrea to the Palazzo Ducale
(Fig. 87).456 Additionally, Margherita did not encounter her mother-in-law before she
entered the city; rather, she was accompanied by her male family members to the Palazzo
del Te and met there by her husband.457 The feminine encounter at the Palazzo di Porto
was therefore transformed into a masculine affair at the Palazzo del Te. Instead of a
welcome by the Gonzaga women at the duchess‘ palace, Margherita was escorted to the
Duke‘s suburban villa and greeted by images of masculine prowess.
The change from the Palazzo di Porto to the Palazzo del Te was at least partially
due to the fact that Henry III‘s triumphal entry seven years earlier had established a new
Isabella d‘Este around 1493, and she likewise began the tradition of willing the palace to her female
successors. By 1628 it is described on Gabriele Bertazzoli‘s map of Mantua as the palace ―dove sogliono
habitare le Duchesse di Mantova l‘estate.‖ Clifford Brown and Anna Maria Lorenzoni, "‗Al Suo
Amenissimo Palazzo di Porto‘: Biagio Rossetti and Isabella d‘Este," Atti e Memorie della Accademia
Virgiliana di Mantova 58(1990): 34-35.
455
This is the route followed by Margherita Paleologa in 1531, and Caterina von Habsburg in 1549. For
arrangements for the entry Margherita Paleologa, see ASMn, AG, b. 2516, f. 66r-67v, transcribed by
Ferrari, ed. Giulio Romano, 1:423-4. For an account of Caterina von Habsburg‘s entry, see ASMn, AG, b.
199, f. 85. Documents for the 1561 entry of Eleonora von Habsburg do not mention the Palazzo di Porto,
but do specify that, like Caterina before her, Eleonora came from the direction of Villafranca, indicating
that she likely also began her procession at Porto. See ASMn, AG, b. 2948, lib. 360, f. 86r-88.
456
ASMn, AG, b.389, f. 352v-353r.
457
ASF, MdP, 2958, transcribed by Lepri, "Nuovi documenti," 185, doc. II.
160
processional route in Mantua which passed by the principal artistic and architectural sites
of the city, and therefore allowed the Gonzaga to impress foreign visitors with their
magnificence and patronage.458 In addition to the processional possibilities of the new
route, the Palazzo del Te offered a more impressive setting for the bride‘s entry than the
Palazzo di Porto. Few accounts of the decoration of Porto survive, but its decorative
program did not approach the iconographic complexity of the Palazzo del Te. 459 The
frescoes at the Palazzo del Te gave form to the noble lineage, courtly wit, and sexual
prowess of the Gonzaga dynasty. Moreover, the ceiling of the Camera di Psiche depicted
the marriage between Psyche, a mere mortal, and the god Cupid, perhaps a particularly
fitting analogy for the Gonzaga dynasty‘s feelings about the Farnese. Incorporation of the
Palazzo del Te into wedding processions did not simply follow a previously established
processional route; the Gonzaga also made meaning out of the images and spaces of the
palace. Vincenzo I and his father, Guglielmo, drew on the palazzo‘s associations with
courtly masculinity to impress the new bride and her family with the wealth, power, and
virility of the Gonzaga dynasty.
Additionally, arrangements for the soldiers and artillery that would greet
Margherita at the palace reinforced the masculine atmosphere. In a letter detailing
instructions for the arrival of Margherita‘s uncle, Cardinal Alessandro Farnese, for the
wedding festivities Guglielmo Gonzaga notes that that Margherita would be accompanied
to the Palazzo del Te by two hundred musketeers, fifty courtiers with pistols, and by a
mounted honor guard. On her arrival at the palace it was planned that she would
458
459
The Palazzo di Porto seems to have consisted of three buildings and a large loggia of at least twenty
columns. It had some interior fresco decoration, which likely included imprese. Correspondence from
Isabella d‘Este, as well as Bertazzoli‘s 1628 description of the palace, describe the beauty of its gardens.
Brown and Lorenzoni, "‗Al Suo Amenissimo Palazzo di Porto‘," 37-39.
161
encounter additional foot soldiers.460 While Margherita prepared for her entry inside the
palace a series of canon salvos fired from the city walls followed one another in rapid
succession, the largest display of military might that Margherita would encounter during
her procession. 461 Although Margherita was also accompanied by her own ladies, the
hundreds of military men and the thundering canons must have impressed her with the
vigor and robust physicality of the Gonzaga household. The multiple salvos issued to
welcome her to the city not only announced her arrival in Mantua, but also gave
resounding proof of the Gonzaga dynasty‘s virility.462
Accounts of Margherita‘s visit to the Palazzo del Te are sparse, but an unknown
Florentine correspondent recounts that Margherita arrived at the Palazzo del Te
accompanied by her grandfather, Ottavio Farnese, her brother, Ranuccio, Vincenzo I
Gonzaga, and many courtiers and ladies from both Parma and Mantua. She then
rested for a little while in the palace, where a most beautiful repast of confections
was laid out for her, and changing her clothes, she was beautifully decorated
(guarnita) in customary dress of silver brocade, and with many jewels. 463
The jewels and clothing with which Margherita adorned herself had been left at the
palace for her by Vincenzo, who was informed on 30 April by Teodoro Sangiorgio that,
as commanded, the dress as well as ―the best of the jewels in the house‖ would be left for
the bride at the Palazzo del Te.464 While at the palace Margherita changed from her
Parmese attire to Mantuan finery provided for her by her groom, and thereby
460
ASMn, AG, b. 2615, f. 353r-v.
461
ASMn, AG, b. 201, f. 71r-72v.
462
Belmont, "Symbolic Function," 3-4. Belmont notes the function of gunfire in drawing attention to, and
therefore publicizing, the wedding and chasing away evil spirits, in addition to its association with fertility.
463
―... riposata ch‘ella fu un pezzo nel detto Palazzo [del Te], ove era apparecchiata una bellissima
collatione di confetture, et mutandosi di vestimenti, tutta benissimo guarnita con usa vesta di broccato
d‘argento, et molte gioie intorno...‖ ASF, MdP 2958, transcribed by Lepri, "Nuovi documenti," 185, doc. II.
464
―quel meglio che serà in casa di gioie …‖ ASMn, AG, b. 2614, fasc. XIII, f. 450r-451v. The dress had
been ordered from Milan in March. Ibid., b. 1379, fasc. IV, f. 264r.
162
symbolically became a Mantuan woman and wife. Her transition from Farnese to
Gonzaga was inscribed upon Margherita‘s body, which was divested of its natal clothing
even as it was decorated with signs of the wealth and honor of her marital family.
The images and structures of the Palazzo del Te reaffirmed Margherita‘s
transition. The palace itself was in a liminal position vis-à-vis the city of Mantua. It
occupied an island outside the city walls, but within walking distance of the city center.
Only after she entered the Porta di Pusterla would Margherita have been within the
confines of the city; like Margherita, the Palazzo del Te was both part of Mantua and
outside its confines. Moreover, the architecture of the palace gives the impression of
movement, as keystones rupture pediments on the outer façades and triglyphs slip out of
place in the courtyard. The bride‘s course through the palace was determined by half a
century of precedence governing the ways in which visitors experienced the palazzo,465
and likewise emphasized transformation, as transitions between rooms often provide
abrupt changes in theme and character. The open and airy Loggia delle Muse, through
which Margherita would have entered the palace, contrasts with the stately rhythm of the
Sala dei Cavalli, which in turn differs greatly from the opulence of the Camera di Psiche
(Fig. 7).
As she walked into the Camera di Psiche, where a light meal was laid out,
Margherita would have seen the dizzying succession of frescoes above her which
depicted the trials of Psyche and her final triumphant marriage to Cupid (Figs. 27 and
30). While Margherita had not overcome the trials set by a jealous mother-in-law, the
frescoes encourage female sacrifice in marriage. An elegant, blond Psyche is made to
465
Both Charles V (1530 and 1532) and Henry III (1574) followed this path through the palace. See
chapters 2, 3, and 4, respectively.
163
complete seemingly impossible or dangerous tasks, and is finally commanded to journey
to the underworld in order to win Cupid‘s love. Psyche‘s perseverance is rewarded by
Jupiter, who sanctions her marriage to Cupid and deifies her. For Margherita and
Vincenzo, the ceiling frescoes implied that Margherita should be willing to endure
sacrifices in her marriage, and that she was elevated by her union with Vincenzo.
The images also depict romantic love in marriage, an ideal that was at odds with
the reality of Margherita‘s politically arranged union, but one that was encouraged
nevertheless. Prior to the wedding, reports had reached Mantua that Margherita and
Vincenzo were enamored of one another. In early March Aurelio Zibramonte wrote to
Guglielmo Gonzaga with satisfaction that ―love grows between the esteemed spouses.‖466
Several weeks later, on 31 March, Cesare Cavriani reported that Margherita ―loves the
Prince with all her heart,‖ and that whenever she talked of him ―sweet tears fall from her
eyes.‖467 Margherita had every reason to expect that her own marriage might mirror the
joyous union depicted above her in the Camera di Psiche.
In the banqueting scenes below, Psyche and Cupid appear once again, this time
with their daughter Voluptus, a chubby blond baby who closely resembles the male
infants depicted on Renaissance birth trays (compare Figs. 90 and 91). 468 While the
child‘s genitals are not shown, the gender neutrality of the figure and Margherita‘s
sexualized circumstances may have led her to see the kind of male baby she hoped to
produce. Naked cavorting boys are often depicted on the backs of Renaissance birth
466
―Tuttavia cresce l‘amore fra le sudette ser.mi sposi...‖ ASMn, AG, b. 201, f. 27r.
467
―S. A. ama tanto di cuore il S.r Prencipe suo, che qualhor parla di lui le vengono le lagrime dalli occhi di
dolcezza ...‖ Ibid., f. 41r.
468
At first glance, the child, indeed appears masculine, or at least gender neutral. Only a viewer familiar
with Apuleius‘ narrative would know that the child was female.
164
trays, and functioned as talismans to encourage a woman‘s production of healthy sons. 469
The lush landscape, complete with flowing water and playful putti likewise suggests the
fertility that the young couple hoped to enjoy. On the north wall a lunette above the scene
of Venus and Mars bathing depicts the river god from Psyche‘s story as an old man
whose flowing beard becomes the river he guards (Fig. 28). Water also gushes from
between his legs, to create an effective, if humorous, image of male virility. Likewise, the
thoughts of the libidinous satyrs who dine with nymphs on the west wall are made
obvious by their erections, and the outcome of the satyrs‘ lust is seen in a nearby satyress
who nurses her infant (Fig. 33). While satyrs are the quintessential Renaissance emblems
of animal lust,470 for Margherita and Vincenzo they may have represented the way in
which marriage could tame and direct desire toward procreative aims. 471
As she looked around the Camera di Psiche Margherita also encountered images
and structures that were in the midst of change, just as she was. On the east wall, directly
opposite the doorway from the Sala dei Cavalli, she would have seen the frescoes of
Pasiphae and the Bull and Jupiter and Olympia (Figs. 37 and 38). In the first, the
mythological queen of Crete asks Daedalus to construct a wooden cow armature, and
climbs into it so that she may satiate her lust for the bull. In the second, Jupiter has
transformed himself into a serpent in order to seduce Olympia, the wife of Philip of
Macedon. Both frescoes depict sexual union as the result of transformation: Pasiphae
takes on the form of a cow in order to mate with the bull and Jupiter becomes a serpent so
469
Jacqueline Marie Musacchio, The Art and Ritual of Childbirth in Renaissance Italy (New Haven: Yale
470
Lynn Frier Kaufmann, The Noble Savage: Satyrs and Satyr Families in Italian Renaissance Art (Ann
Arbor: UMI Research Press, 1979), 65-81.
471
Anthony F. D'Elia, The Renaissance of Marriage in Fifteenth-Century Italy (Cambridge: Harvard
165
that he may steal into Olympia‘s bed. Both images are also sexually explicit: Pasiphae
shows cleavage and bare leg as she enters the cow suit, which, in turn, offers a posterior,
penetrative view to the spectator; Jupiter and Olympia are shown in the midst of the sex
act, and Olympia‘s body is angled toward the viewer, while in the background her
voyeuristic husband‘s eyes are put out by Jupiter‘s eagle.
The frescoes of Jupiter and Olympia and Pasiphae and the Bull suggest that both
men and women are altered by their sexual urges, but that in women lust can quickly lead
to perversion. Ovid specifically links female desire to sexual deviance in a section of the
Ars Amatoria where he writes of the unnatural actions of Pasiphae, Scylla and Medea,
―All these crimes were brought about by woman‘s lust, keener and wilder than ours.‖472
In the Medieval allegorical tradition typified by the Ovide moraliseé, Pasiphae is a
metaphor for destructive female desire;473 while in her Epistre d’Othéa Christine de Pizan
calls Pasiphae crazed and warns men not to assume that all women behave in such a
manner.474 In contrast, the story of Olympia and Jupiter was not known during the
Medieval period, and so received no such allegorical treatment. 475 While Giulio‘s Jupiter
and Olympia is based upon Plutarch‘s Life of Alexander, the artist has suggested that
Olympia‘s adulterous relationship with Jupiter is licit by depicting the punishment of her
472
Ovid, Ars Amatoria, 1.341-42.
473
Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski, "The Scandal of Pasiphae: Narration and Interpretation in the Ovide
moralisé," Modern Philology 93, no. 3 (1996): 324.
474
Ibid.: 321-22. In her gloss, Christine describes Pasiphae as an allegory of soul who repents her past sins
and returns to God.
475
Marianne Pade, The Reception of Plutarch's Lives in Fifteenth-Century Italy, 2 vols. (Copenhagen:
Museum Tusculanum Press, 2007), 1:76-94; 172-77. The story of Olympia is told in Plutarch‘s Life of
Alexander, which, along with the other Lives, was ‗rediscovered‘ in Western Europe in the late fourteenth
century. The most influential point of contact came in 1397 when the Byzantine scholar Manuel
Chrysoloras brought a copy with him when he came to Florence to teach Greek at the Studium Florentium.
The Life of Alexander was translated from Greek into Latin by Guarino da Verona, one of Chrysoloras‘
students, sometime around 1412.
166
husband, Philip. 476 For her desires, Pasiphae was punished by conceiving and birthing the
half-human, half-bull Minotaur; Jupiter‘s lust for Olympia produced Alexander the Great.
In conjunction with a third, more benign, scene which depicts Bacchus and
Ariadne (Fig. 36), and the frolicking putti and the lascivious glances of the satyrs and
nymphs in the banqueting scenes below, the framed images of mythological lovers
offered a powerful comment on marriage and sexuality. In the context of Gonzaga nuptial
ceremonies, the bride likely viewed the images of the Camera di Psiche in relation to
female nudes and putti on cassoni and independent paintings of beautiful nudes, such as
Titian‘s many variations on the theme of Venus. Images of desirable women and
idealized male offspring encouraged normative sexual intercourse between husband and
wife, eventually leading to procreation. 477 The frescoes in the Camera di Psiche
emphatically promote normative sexuality: they depict both normative and aberrant
sexual acts and allude to their respective rewards and punishments. All the unions
depicted produced offspring: Bacchus and Ariadne had as many as eleven children
according to some sources; Jupiter‘s dalliance with Olympia produced Alexander the
Great; and Päsiphae‘s encounter with the bull engendered the Minotaur.
The frescoes therefore served as both a warning and encouragement to the young
bride: sexual misconduct resulted in monstrosity, while submission brings greatness.
Although Giulio Romano certainly could not anticipate that the Camera di Psiche would
be used in a marital context, the Gonzaga had previously used the image of Pasiphae as a
476
Plutarch, Life of Alexander, trans. John Dryden (New York: Modern Library, 1938), 802.
477
Andrea Bayer, "From Cassone to Poesia: Paintings of Love and Marriage," in Art and Love in
Renaissance Italy, ed. Andrea Bayer (New York: The Metropolitan Museum 2008), 231-35. Both cassoni
and independent nudes seem to have resided almost exclusively in the nuptial chamber, where the marriage
would ultimately be consummated and children conceived. While the Camera di Psiche functioned as a
banqueting chamber rather than a bedroom, Margherita Farnese and successive Gonzaga brides did
encounter the erotic images there in a marital, and therefore sexualized, context.
167
moral lesson for the bride. A maiolica plate by Nicola da Urbino in which Pasiphae
stands with Daedalus and gestures towards the bull she so greatly desires was
commissioned around 1533 as part of the wedding service of Margherita Paleologa and
Federico II Gonzaga (Fig. 92). The presence of Margherita Paleologa‘s arms on the plate
indicates that it was most likely intended to remind her of the importance of chastity in
marriage.478 The plate was commissioned after the construction of the Camera di Psiche,
and therefore the iconography of Pasiphae was most likely inspired by the Palazzo del
Te. However, Nicola‘s plate indicates that women were expected to view the story of
Pasiphae and the bull differently than men. While Giulio‘s fresco was likely meant to
entertain and titillate a male audience, it was assumed that brides would view the
iconography as a caution against sexual impropriety.
Giulio composition of the frescoes also makes a sexual distinction between the
two women. In Jupiter and Olympia, the god and mortal assume appropriate sexual
positions: he on top, and she on the bottom. She obligingly opens her legs and hooks her
left leg around Jupiter‘s torso and grips the fictive frame of the image in the throes of
ecstasy. Pasiphae, on the other hand, is shown in a superior and active position. The bull
lies docilely in the background, while in the foreground Pasiphae agilely climbs into her
new guise. Likewise, the cow is located extremely close to the picture plane, and its rear
end protrudes into the viewer‘s space in a display of a transgressive sexual position. The
cow‘s tail whips out of the picture and across the painted frame to create the illusion that
Pasiphae herself has violated the barrier between illusion and reality.
478
Lisa Boutin, "Displaying Identity in the Mantuan Court: The Maiolica Services of Isabella d'Este and
Federico II Gonzaga" (University of California, Los Angeles, 2011), 194-95.
168
As she gazed at the frescoes of the Camera di Psiche, Margherita Farnese was
offered opposing views of female sexuality, and was visually exhorted to identify with
Olympia rather than Pasiphae. However, Margherita‘s actions at the Palazzo del Te may
have encouraged the opposite. Like Pasiphae, Margherita changed her attire, and through
an alteration of her outer appearance, became someone else. In the fresco, Pasiphae
climbs into the cow‘s skin, aided by Daedalus in a manner not dissimilar to the way in
which Margherita would have been helped into her voluminous dress by her female
attendants at the Palazzo del Te. Moreover, both women transformed their outer
appearance in order to appeal to their sexual partners. However, as she changed into a
cow Pasiphae committed a sinful act, while Margherita Farnese‘s transformation into a
Gonzaga princess fulfilled her social obligations as a new bride and future duchess.
Like Pasiphae, Margherita climbed into a new skin and assumed a guise
calculated to please. Yet, the figure of Pasiphae is not one with whom a Renaissance
woman would want to be associated. While Counter-Reformation writers did allow that
husbands and wives might derive physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, the
missionary position was still regarded as the only ―natural‖ sexual position. 479 Pasiphae‘s
actions were clearly outside the realm of permissible sexual activity. The echoes of her
own bodily movements that Margherita saw in Giulio Romano‘s image of Pasiphae may
have encouraged her to ponder the similarities between herself and the Cretan queen.
Like Pasiphae, she was a beautiful young woman of ample fortune married to an
illustrious lord, and therefore expected to subjugate her sexuality to his. And, like
479
Tomás Sánchez, Disputationum de sancto matrimonii sacramento (Venice: Ioannem, Antonium &
Iacobum de Franciscis, 1606), 9.17.11; 9.44.2.8-16; Brundage, Law, Sex, and Christian Society, 566-67.
169
Pasiphae, should Margherita allow her lust rather than her virtue to rule her body, the
punishment would be monstrous.
As Margherita Farnese clothed herself in her bridal gown and adorned her body
with Gonzaga jewels, she therefore inscribed a subject position upon her body. Pasiphae
had chosen to pursue the bull, and had even sacrificed a rival cow to the altar of her
passion. She clothed herself as an animal to fulfill her unnatural desires. In contrast,
Margherita dressed herself as a virtuous bride, and through her clothing and jewelry
configured her body as the sexual property of her husband. Like Pasiphae, Margherita‘s
choice of attire transformed her nature. While Pasiphae‘s armature advertised the
bestiality of her nature, Margherita‘s dress clothed her body in marital chastity and
procreative hopes.
It soon became apparent that the joyous union and abundant fertility promised by
the Camera di Psiche did not await Vincenzo and Margherita. In May of 1582 Margherita
Farnese was sent back to Parma after the irate Gonzaga claimed that due to ―ostacoli
machinali‖ on the part of the princess, the young couple was unable to consummate the
union.480 A letter from Cesare Cavriani, the Gonzaga ambassador to the Farnese court,
records the differing opinion in Parma, where rumors were spreading that Margherita was
simply possessed of an unusually thick hymen ―which is very easy to cut,‖ and that
Vincenzo was simply unable to deflower his wife. 481 The Gonzaga were desperately in
need of a fruitful union because Vincenzo was the only surviving son, and thus the only
480
Nina Glassman, Lettere proibite: I "cimenti" del principe Vincenzo Gonzaga (Ravenna: Longo Editore,
1991), 7-8, 14. Scholars currently believe that Margherita suffered from an atresia of her vaginal opening.
481
―... la quale è tanto facile di tagliare.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 201, f. 105v.
170
hope for the continued succession of the dynasty; if Vincenzo was unable to father a
legitimate male heir, the duchy would fall to his uncle, Lodovico Gonzaga- Nevers.482
In spite of the fertile and sexual images they were encouraged to model at the
Palazzo del Te, Vincenzo‘s marriage to Margherita Farnese marriage was annulled on 12
October 1583.483 Margherita was deemed unable to procreate by the papal legate,
Cardinal Borromeo, and was sent to the convent of San Paolo in Parma where she took
the name of suor Maura Lucina;484 Vincenzo married Eleonora de‘ Medici less than a
year later. Margherita was forced to return the jewels that she received from Vincenzo at
the Palazzo del Te, an act which gave her such pain that she went to bed with a fever. 485
In retribution for the annulment, the Farnese spread rumors that the sexual failure had not
been Margherita‘s, but Vincenzo‘s. Before he could take another bride, Vincenzo not
only had to return Margherita‘s sizable dowry, he also had to prove his virility.
Gender Trouble
The Farnese quickly and widely circulated the news that Vincenzo was impotent.
Before the marriage between Vincenzo I Gonzaga and Eleonora de‘ Medici was
concluded, the Medici therefore required assurances that the prince was, in fact, virile.
Medici agents suborned a doctor at the Gonzaga court who reported that the prince ―lies
with women, he enters them and emictit semen,‖ but, the doctor did not believe that
Vincenzo could ―stay erect in order to penetrate as deeply as was necessary to impregnate
482
Mazzoldi, ed. Mantova: La Storia, 3:29. Despite their reception of Henry III in 1574, the Gonzaga were
still staunch imperial allies, and had no desire for their duchy to fall to a French branch of the family.
483
Ibid., 3:28.
484
Giuseppe Coniglio, I Gonzaga (Varese: dall'Oglio, 1967), 347.
485
ASF, MdP, 3255, 24 August, 1583, Avviso from Milan. MAP, doc. 10760.
171
a woman.‖486 After another journey to Mantua the doctor reported that ―truly, the Prince
is potent,‖ but that he had both a fistula and the mal francese, both of which were being
treated.487 The doctor‘s report indicates Vincenzo‘s condition was believed to be
temporary and curable. While the membro virile was the sign of potency in a man, in the
Counter-Reformation Church only impotency that was both natural and permanent was
considered grounds for annulment.488
Cardinal Cesi, the papal legate in Bologna who acted on behalf of the Medici
throughout the negotiations, reported that, for their part, the Gonzaga were eager to
―resolve this question of impotency,‖ for it had ―already been published throughout all of
Lombardy,‖ and they wished the rumor to go no further.489 The Gonzaga offered to
provide witnesses to the prince‘s virility, but Cardinal Cesi wrote to Ferdinando I de‘
Medici that ―to me that does not seem enough to clear the doubt, but I judge that it is
necessary .... to see proof.‖490 Thus was born the prova, an ordeal in which Vincenzo was
required to prove his virility by deflowering a virgin before witnesses. 491 The Gonzaga
486
―dice bene che stando il Principe con donne, si corrompe et emictit semen; ma non crede che possa poi
eriger da penetrar dentro come saria necessario per posser ingravidare.‖ Transcribed by F. Orlando and G.
Baccini, Il parentado fra la principessa Eleonora de'Medici e il principe Don Vincenzo Gonzaga, e i
cimenti a cui fu costretto il detto principe per attestare egli fosse abile alla generazione. Documenti inediti,
tratti dal R. Archivio di stato di Firenze (Florence: Giuseppe Conti, 1886; reprint, Bologna: Forni, 1967), 9.
487
―... veramente il Principe è potente...‖ Transcribed by Ibid., 12.
488
Daniela Hacke, Women, Sex and Marriage in Early Modern Venice (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), 144-48.
489
―... chiarir questo dubio dell‘impotentia ... essendosi già publicato tal dubio per tutta Lombardia ...‖
Transcribed by Orlando and Baccini, Il parentado, 15.
490
―... a me non pareva bastante per chiarire tal dubio, ma iudicavo esser necessario .... vedessi farne la
prova ....‖ Transcribed by Ibid.
491
A true history of the prova of Vincenzo I Gonzaga remains to be written. In the nineteenth century many
of the documents from the Florentine and Mantuan archives relating to the prova were published. See, Ibid;
F. Orlando and G. Baccini, Altri documenti inediti sul parentado fra la principessa Eleonora de'Medici e il
principe Don Vincenzo Gonzaga e i cimenti a cui fu costretto il detto Principe per attestare la sua potenza
virile. Tratti dal R. Archivio di Mantova e pubblicati con una nota storia di G. Conti (Florence: Giuseppe
Conti, 1893; reprint, Bologna: Forni, 1967). For secondary sources see, Maria Bellonci, A Prince of
Mantua: The Life and Times of Vincenzo Gonzaga, trans. Stuart Hood (New York: Harcourt, 1956), 245-
64; Glassman, Lettere proibite; Davide Galesi, "L'eros politico del principe Vincenzo," in El più soave et
dolce et dilectevola et gratioso bochone: Amore e sesso al tempo dei Gonzaga, ed. Costantino; Cipolla and
Giancarlo Malacarne (Milan: FrancoAngeli, 2006). Glassman republished many of the archival documents
172
deemed it ―an indignity and a shame that the Grand Duke seeks to make the Prince act in
such a manner.‖492 However, the Gonzaga also realized that the Farnese‘s accusations
had ―placed the Prince under much suspicion,‖ and therefore agreed to the Medici terms
for the marriage.493
The Gonzaga seem to have been willing to endure the humiliation of the test, as
long as they were assured a favorable outcome. To that end, they conceded to all of the
Granduke‘s demands save one: the Gonzaga continually stipulated that Vincenzo must be
granted three nights to prove his virility, while the Medici wanted to allow only one
evening. In a letter dated 20 January 1584 the Florentine ambassador Orazio Urbani
wrote to Francesco de‘ Medici that the respective parties had agreed upon all the
particulars of the prova except its duration. Urbani continued that given the Mantuans‘
insistence upon three nights the Farnese might have been right, for ―it could be argued
from this experience that the defect was not, after all, totally on the part of the young
lady.‖494 In fact, the Medici were not the only ones who doubted Vincenzo, for Urbani
also reports jokes at the prince‘s expense that had been told in Ferrara. While speaking to
a lady who had recently married a man from Mantua, Urbani remarked that ―all things
Mantuan are beautiful and good‖ intending to refer to her husband. Another gentleman,
who was in the service of Vincenzo Gonzaga, archly interjected: ―It is true that they are
all beautiful, but perhaps not all good.‖ Urbani records that ―with a thousand laughs‖ at
first published by Orlando and Baccini, and added a limited analysis that provides biographical context for
the documents. Galesi argues that questions concerning the potency of Vincenzo‘s natural body caused
concern regarding the political body of the Gonzaga dynasty.
492
―… il che era una indignità anche vergogna che‘l Gran Duca cercara di fare al S. or Prencipe con modo
tale.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 1514, fasc. I, f. 31v.
493
―...ha posto quello Prencipe in tanta suspicione.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 203, f. 321r.
494
―... potendo da questo evento argumentarsi che il defetto non sia però totalmente dalla parte della
giovane.‖ Transcribed by Orlando and Baccini, Il parentado, 81.
173
Vincenzo‘s expense the party turned to another topic of conversation. 495 While the
ambassador meant to say that the lady‘s husband is both handsome of face and of
character, the gentleman‘s response indicates that although things may look well in
Mantua, they are not because Vincenzo‘s impotence has placed the succession in
jeopardy.
A few weeks later, on 14 February 1584, a letter from Camillo Capilupo in
Florence to Teodoro San Giorgio in Mantua discusses a lewd drawing of Vincenzo that
was making its way through the Italian courts. Capilupo had talked with the ambassador
from Ferrara, who told him of a letter that had been sent from Ferrara to Florence:
in which was drawn a membro virile, and in the middle [it was] crooked, with the
following words: Your Lordship must know that the member of this gentleman is
like this drawing, [and] you can see how it will be for the poor lady he takes as a
wife.496
While the Ferrarese ambassador was at pains to assure Capilupo that he knew the
drawing to be a base lie, Capilupo darkly commented that the letter was part of a ―high
handed plot to impede the union.‖497
By the time Vincenzo arrived in Venice in early March of 1584, the pressure was
building. The prova was no longer a private affair between the Medici and Gonzaga
houses, but had, in fact, been spread throughout the Italian courts by gossips and
495
To quote the passage in its entirety: ―.... ragionando io con la più favorita dama della Sig. a Donna
Marfisa, che si maritò questa state a Mantova, le dissi in certo proposito che tutte le cose mantovane son
belle e buone, volendo inferire del marito, onde allhora il conte Alfonso turco, il quale tutti questi giorni
insieme col Sig. Ipolito Bentivoglio ha havuto carica di tener servitù al Sig. Principe, rispose: È vero che
son tutte belle, ma non forse tutte buone, volendo inferire di qualche una del Sig. Principe, e con mille risa
passò a ragionare d‘altro.‖ Transcribed by Ibid., 103.
496
―... nella quale era designato un membro virile, et a mezo storto con parole che seggiugevano: V. S.
sappia che il membro di quel s.re sta come questo dissegnato, si che può vedere come starà quella povera s. ra
pigliandolo per marito.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 203, f. 341r.
497
―... ordita da alta mano per impedir questa congiuntione.‖ Ibid.
174
ambassadors. Vincenzo‘s virility, his reputation as a prince, and the continuity of the
Gonzaga dynasty were at stake.
On the night of 10 March 1584 the chosen girl entered the room, followed by
Vincenzo who first disrobed in front of witnesses to ensure that he carried nothing but his
―natural instrument.‖498 Belissario Vinta wrote to Grand Duke Francesco de‘ Medici that
although Vincenzo was with the girl for four and a half hours ―I was never called, nor did
I hear any action, nor any clamor and I began to fear.‖ 499 Vinta had just resolved to enter
the room when Vincenzo exited with his hand to his stomach, crying: ―Cavaliere, oh my,
I feel awful.‖500 Stomach pains that Vincenzo had complained of a week earlier had
returned because the prince had been indulging in rich foods.501 The girl was still a virgin
and Vinta was stupefied by what had happened. He wrote in a postscript that Vincenzo
had resolved to try again, but that the Mantuan party would suffer ―great confusion and
shame, if the Prince did not succeed in recovering his honor.‖502 Vinta‘s postscript
suggests that, in his eyes at least, Vincenzo had already failed to act in a manner that
demonstrated his fitness as a man and a prince. The prince‘s only hope to reclaim his
honor was by an overt act of virility. 503
Vincenzo rested for several days, and on 15 March he again undressed in front of
witnesses and entered the chamber. This time, Vinta reports, that less than half an hour
498
―instrumento naturale.‖ Transcribed by Orlando and Baccini, Il parentado, 161.
499
―… non fui nè ancho mai chiamato, nè meno sentii mai atto, nè strepito nessuno et cominciai a
temere...‖ Transcribed by Ibid., 162.
500
―Cavaliere, oimè, sto male.‖ Transcribed by Ibid.
501
―s‘era avviluppato con li cibi di quaresima.‖ Transcribed by Ibid., 163. The document refers to ―cibi di
quaresima [Lenten foods],‖ which most likely signifies sea food.
502
―una gran confusione et vergogna, se non riesce al Principe di ricuperar l‘honor suo ...‖ Transcribed by
Ibid., 169.
503
Galesi, "L'eros politico," 250. Following Ernst Kantorowicz‘s concept of the two bodies of the king, one
political and one natural, Galesi argues that Vincenzo‘s member was the most eminent symbol of his
political body, and therefore his ability as a future ruler was at stake.
175
after Vincenzo had begun he called out in a delighted voice: ―Cavaliere, cavaliere, come
here, touch [it] and feel [it] with your hand.‖504 With some shame, Vinta stretched forth
his hand until it ―bumped against the membro duro, which the girl had inside her
body.‖505 Vincenzo then declared, ―Now that you have touched it and resolved [matters
for yourself], leave me to finish my work.‖506 While Vincenzo‘s desire for Vinta to both
see and touch for himself seems extraordinary, it may have been a common way for men
to assert their virility in the face of accusations of impotence. In Venice during the 1470s
a man named Nicolò performed a similar act after his wife had accused him of
impotence. Nicolò asked a parish priest to testify on his behalf, and in order to assure that
the priest‘s testimony would be convincing, Nicolò invited him to the house of two
prostitutes. At one point, Nicolò asked the priest to feel his member while he was
―carnally knowing‖ one of the women.507 Although the two episodes are separated by
over a century, the similarity of Nicolò‘s request to that of Vincenzo suggests that a
membro duro was the best way for a man to assure witnesses of his virility.
After Vincenzo‘s vindication, the Medici quickly dropped the matter. However,
an ambassadorial report from Simone Fortuna to Francesco Maria II della Rovere, Duke
of Urbino, shows that the prince‘s reputation had suffered. Fortuna was in Florence,
where he had the opportunity to witness Vincenzo amongst his new in-laws. The
ambassador spitefully writes:
504
―Cavaliere, cavaliere, vien qua, tocca et palpa con la mano.‖ Transcribed by Orlando and Baccini, Il
parentado, 175. The report of Marcello Donati, secretary to Vincenzo Gonzaga, states that Vincenzo
required only fifteen minutes to succeed at the prova. Orlando and Baccini, Altri documenti inediti sul
parentado, 111-12.
505
―... urtai nel membro duro che la fanciulla haveva in corpo.‖ Transcribed by Orlando and Baccini, Il
parentado, 175.
506
―Hor che hai toccho et chiaritoti, lasciami finire i fatti miei.‖ Transcribed by Ibid., 176.
507
The story is related and the court documents transcribed by Guido Ruggiero, The Boundaries of Eros:
Sex Crime and Sexuality in Renaissance Venice (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985), 146-47.
176
I have not seen the Prince [Vincenzo] for six years, so that to me he seems much
transformed: he has put on considerable weight, which renders him less agile; he
does not have a beard nor any color, and in appearance he seems to have some
similarity to his wife … [and] he drinks often. 508
Fortuna accuses Vincenzo of intemperance, drinking too much and putting on weight,
and hints that, despite proofs to the contrary, the Gonzaga prince is not in control of his
body. Perhaps most damaging, the ambassador says that Vincenzo lacks the facial hair
and color of a man, and appears rather more like a woman. In the Renaissance, beards
were an essential signifier of masculinity because they were a visible way of constructing
the difference between men and women as well as between men and boys. 509 Fortuna‘s
remark concerning the prince‘s lack of facial hair is more than a casual comment, and
was, in fact, meant to underscore Vincenzo‘s femininity. Like a woman, Vincenzo cannot
control himself, and his inner deficiencies are made manifest on his body, which also
appears womanly. For Fortuna and other early modern observers, gender was produced
―on the surface of the body, through the play of signifying absences.‖510 His description
of Vincenzo Gonzaga focuses on that which the prince lacks: physical and behavioral
signifiers of manhood. Gender was therefore considered unstable but observable, that is,
a person‘s gender identity was created via the actions and appearance of the body.
Vincenzo‘s inability to correctly perform his virility during his marriage to Margherita
Farnese and his prova meant that his masculinity was still in doubt, and his troubling
physical appearance led Fortuna to conclude that he was effeminate.
508
―Sono ben sei anni ch‘io non eravo veduto il Principe, onde m‘è paruto molto transformato: ha messo
carne assai, che lo rende poco agile, non ha barbe nè quasi colore, a nell‘aria par ch‘abbia qualche
similtudine con la moglie … bere spesso.‖ Transcribed by Guglielmo Enrico Saltini and Carlo Gargiolli,
eds., Le nozze di Eleonora de' Medici con Vincenzo Gonzaga descritte da Simone Fortuna (Firenze:
Successori Le Monnier,1868), 9.
509
Will Fisher, "The Renaissance Beard: Masculinity in Early Modern England," Renaissance Quarterly
54, no. 1 (2001): 155-87.
510
177
Vincenzo‘s performative missteps offer a glimpse at the ways in which the images
and spaces of the Palazzo del Te were shaped by the bodies and behaviors of its
inhabitants. For Vincenzo, the explicit sexuality of the Palazzo del Te was intended to
serve as a backdrop against which the prince could enact his masculinity and thereby
assure his brides of his potency. While Margherita Farnese may have initially been
convinced, I would like to suggest that three years later, when Eleonora de‘ Medici
arrived, Vincenzo‘s performance anxiety troubled the images of the palace. As she toured
the palace in the company of her new husband and kin, what Eleonora saw may not have
been depictions of masculine reason, virility, and restraint. Rather, references to
homosexual and other non-normative erotic relationships designed to emphasize the
virility and wit of the Gonzaga princes instead highlighted Vincenzo‘s own problematic
sexuality.
Unmanly Images
In 1584 Eleonora de‘ Medici entered Mantua as the triumphant bride of Vincenzo
Gonzaga. Like Margherita Farnese before her, Eleonora‘s wedding procession began at
the Palazzo del Te, where she ate a light meal and changed into clothing and jewels left
for her by the Gonzaga family. Upon her arrival at the palace, Eleonora was greeted by
over a thousand armed soldiers and deafening canon shots from the walls of the city. 511 In
fact, Eleonora‘s wedding to Vincenzo seems to have been calculated to upstage the
scuttled Farnese match: when she entered Mantuan territory Margherita had been greeted
511
ASMn, AG, b. 204, f. 203v, 211r-v, 222r-v.
178
by 200 soldiers; Eleonora was met by 600 mounted soldiers and over 700 musketeers. 512
Despite their complaints regarding the cost of a second wedding, the Gonzaga went to
great pains to impress the Medici bankers with their wealth: when he met her at the
Palazzo del Te, Vincenzo gave Eleonora ―a headpiece of pearls, diamonds and rubies ...
in the form of a crown.‖513 Additionally, her father-in-law, Guglielmo Gonzaga,
presented her with ―a collar of pearls, diamonds and rubies with a pendant gem and three
very large pear-shaped pearls ... which they say was valued at 65,000 scudi.‖514 Through
their lavish spending on the nuptial festivities the Gonzaga hoped to restore their honor,
which had been tarnished by the Farnese family‘s claims and Vincenzo‘s anxiety.
Like Margherita Farnese before her, Eleonora de‘ Medici entered the Palazzo del
Te through the Loggia delle Muse, a space decorated with enigmatic hieroglyphs,
frescoes of Apollo and the Mantuan arts, and stucco reliefs of the Muses. As a place of
learning devoted to the arts, the loggia was designed to impress upon the visitor a sense
of the Gonzaga family‘s courtly erudition and status as prominent patrons of the arts.515
On either side of the doorway are two frescoes depicting scenes from the myth of
Orpheus and Eurydice (Figs. 21 and 22). To the left of the portal, Aristaeus pursues a
doomed Eurydice, while on the other side of the doorway, Orpheus has retreated to the
countryside to play his lyre and lament his inability to save his wife from death. The two
lunettes in the Loggia delle Muse depict the story of Orpheus as narrated by Virgil in the
512
Cf. ASF, MdP, 2958, May 1581, and ASMn, AG, b. 204, f. 211r, ―Cor[saletti] 606; Ar[chibugiero]
760.‖
513
―Il Sig. Principe fu anco a visitarla al palazzo del Tè, et le presentò un'acconciatura di perle, diamanti et
rubini da portarla in testa in forma di corona …‖ ASF, MdO, 6354, f. 420r. MAP doc. 16152.
514
―… il Sig. Duca le mandò un collare di perle, diamanti, et rubini con un gioiello pendente et tre perle
pere molte grosse, et di fattione molto vistosa, dicono loro di valuta di un 65 mila scudi.‖ Ibid.,
515
Images of Orpheus and Arion also appear in Mantegna‘s Camera Picta, and it has been suggested that
they likewise symbolize the power of the arts and their need for virtuous protectors such as the Gonzaga.
179
Georgics, in which the story of Orpheus and Eurydice is a digression from a discussion of
bee husbandry. In Virgil‘s narrative Aristaeus is the protagonist who learns that he must
make a sacrifice to Orpheus in order to atone for his involvement in Eurydice‘s death,
and thereby restore life to his prized beehive. 516
However, Virgil‘s Georgics is not the only source for the myth of Orpheus and
Eurydice, which also appears in Ovid‘s Metamorphoses. 517 During the Medieval and
Renaissance periods, Ovid‘s version of the tale had a strong impact upon literary and
visual interpretations of the myth, specifically through the wide distribution of the Ovide
moraliseé. 518 Moreover, the Palazzo del Te features another image of Orpheus, which is
located in the Camera di Ovidio two rooms to the south of the Loggia delle Muse (Fig.
93). In this small fresco, Orpheus kneels at the center of the composition and plays his
lyre for Pluto and Proserpina in the hopes that they will return Eurydice to him. The
three-headed dog Cerberus sits at the feet of his masters, a robed shade, perhaps
Sisyphus, stands behind them, and one of the Furies reaches out toward Orpheus,
demonstrating the depth of her response to his song. The depictions of Orpheus at the
Palazzo del Te therefore presupposed the viewer‘s familiarity with both versions of the
myth. The long allegorical tradition associated with Late Antique and Medieval
interpretations of the story, and its popularity at Renaissance courts meant that Eleonora
de‘ Medici and Vincenzo Gonzaga brought a rich visual and literary history to bear upon
the images at the Palazzo del Te.
516
Virgil, Georgics, 4.3174-557.
517
For an analysis of the differences between the versions of Virgil and Ovid, see W.S. Anderson, "The
Orpheus of Virgil and Ovid: flebile nescio quid," in Orpheus, the Metamorphoses of a Myth, ed. John
Warden (Toronto: University of Toronoto Press, 1982), 25-50.
518
Carla Lord, "Three Manuscripts of the Ovide Moralisé," The Art Bulletin 57, no. 2 (1975): 161-75.
180
In Virgil‘s narrative, the blame for Eurydice‘s death falls upon Aristaeus and
Orpheus. Aristaeus‘ rapacious intentions caused the young woman to flee blindly toward
the snake that caused her first death. Her second and final death was caused by her
husband, for just as the couple emerged from the bowels of the earth, ―a stroke of
madness‖ struck Orpheus and he looked back at Eurydice, who vanished like smoke. 519
Moreover, after his failure to save Eurydice, Orpheus spurns women and refuses to return
to the pleasures of life. In contrast, in Ovid‘s Metamorphoses, Eurydice‘s first death is
due to her own carelessness: she simply failed to notice the snake which bit her. 520 As in
Virgil, Eurydice is returned to Orpheus, only to be lost again when he looks back at her.
However, Ovid absolves Orpheus of guilt in Eurydice‘s second death, for in the
Metamorphoses Orpheus fears that she is dropping behind and looks back out of love and
concern. Moreover, while Virgil‘s Eurydice blames Orpheus for his ―burning need‖ to
see her,521 in Ovid Eurydice stays mute, for ―what could she complain of, except that he‘d
loved her?‖522 Afterwards, Ovid‘s Orpheus wanders through Thrace where he spurns the
advances of the Thracian women. Ovid‘s Orpheus rejects conjugal felicity more strongly
than Virgil‘s, for he began the practice of ―plucking the flower of a boy‘s brief spring
before he has come to his manhood.‖523 In both versions, local women are angered by
Orpheus‘ rejection and tear him limb from limb. Ovid also reunites the couple, for upon
his death Orpheus and Eurydice meet in the underworld and walk together once again.
519
Virgil, Georgics, 4.488.
520
The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice is related in 10.1-85. The story of Orpheus‘ death appears in 11.1-
66.
521
Virgil, Georgics, 4.495.
522
Ovid, Metamorphoses, 10.61.
523
Ibid., 10.84-85.
181
Both Virgil and Ovid recount that Orpheus renounces the company of women, a
move that enrages the local female population and causes them to rip apart the body he
has denied to them. Orpheus rejects marriage, though Virgil does not credit him as the
inventor of pederasty as does Ovid. Whether as a lover of boys or a man who refuses to
remarry, Orpheus is hardly a model of conjugal felicity, for, despite his devotion to her,
Orpheus did not save his wife. In Virgil‘s narrative, Orpheus‘ love for Eurydice is
characterized as a mad passion, a love too great for reason.524 While he ignores Orpheus‘
sexual misbehavior, like Ovid, Virgil effeminizes the hero: his love for Eurydice literally
emasculates Orpheus, and ultimately causes his death. 525
In the Medieval period, Orpheus was recast as a prototype for Christ, a metaphor
for the dangers of passion, and, conversely, an allegory of the soul‘s desire for
excellence, and the ideal courtly husband. Early Christian writers seized upon his role as
a peacemaker and his acceptance of death at the hand of marauding women to compare
Orpheus to Christ, while his descent into the underworld was seen as a pre-figuration for
Christ‘s harrowing of hell. 526 Artists conflated Orpheus and the Good Shepherd, for the
musician‘s pre-Christian role as a leader of souls strongly echoed that of Christ‘s as the
protector and bearer of souls to the afterlife. In floor mosaics and catacomb paintings
from roughly the second through sixth centuries the Good Shepherd often appears in
Phrygian dress and plays the Orphic lyre amidst a flock of sheep. 527
In contrast its visual expression, early literary commentators on the story focused
almost exclusively on the relationship between Orpheus and Eurydice. In Boethius‘
524
Anderson, "The Orpheus of Virgil and Ovid," 29-30.
525
Crawford, The Sexual Culture of the French Renaissance, 29-32.
526
Friedman, Orpheus, 38-85.
527
Ibid., 40-48, 72-79.
182
Consolation of Philosophy Orpheus‘ longing for Eurydice is an example of the quest for
spiritual enlightenment, which fails because the soul cannot reject corporeal concerns
such as passion and love.528 The commentator Remigius Maritianus writes that it is
Eurydice who flees Orpheus because she spurns his earthly nature; Eurydice is the ideal
which Orpheus seeks but cannot obtain. 529 In the Ovide moraliseé, written around the
turn of the fourteenth century, Orpheus becomes an allegory for reason and Eurydice is
sensuality, qualities which are joined in humanity. When Orpheus turns around and
causes Eurydice‘s second death, he leaves behind sensuality, and his decision to turn to
pederasty is both a mortal sin to be avoided and a realization that masculine homosocial
relationships are preferable to liaisons with women.530 Moreover, Eurydice is implicitly
connected to Eve, for she ―treads of her own consent on the serpent of mortal vice,‖ 531
while Orpheus, who chose the company of men over marriage is identified with Christ.532
Remigius‘ early conception of Eurydice as the unattainable ideal found full
expression in courtly art and literature, wherein Orpheus is the lover who pursues his
lady. At times, writers went so far in depicting Orpheus as a triumphant knight and lover
that he was allowed to lead Eurydice out of the underworld. 533 The confusion between
courtly and allegorical interpretations of Orpheus was such that manuscript illuminations
of the Ovide moralisé sometimes depict the couple stepping out of the underworld
together.534 The tradition continued into the Renaissance, for Marcantonio Raimondi, a
printmaker with close associations to both Raphael and Giulio Romano, created an
528
Ibid., 90-95.
529
Ibid., 101-02.
530
531
Friedman, Orpheus, 124.
532
Crawford, The Sexual Culture of the French Renaissance, 38.
533
Friedman, Orpheus, 170-75.
534
Ibid., 173-75.
183
engraving in which Orpheus leads Eurydice out into the sunlight (Fig. 94). In the print,
Orpheus is crowned as a poet and plays an Italian lira da braccio, which he uses to call
his wife to his side, just as he charmed the animals and trees in Virgil and Ovid. Eurydice
uses her hands to conceal her nudity, a visual connection to Eve, who likewise covered
her naked body after she was led into sin by the serpent.
Renaissance humanists found in Orpheus a figure onto whom they could graft
their social and political aims. He was a statesman who through his eloquence brought
civilization to the wilderness, and an artist who created harmony in all things. He was
also, like many humanists, a poet whose words could ultimately unite the soul with
God.535 His refusal to marry was also edifying for a Renaissance audience: when men
eschew marriage, women are left without male guidance, and the end result is chaos and
death.536
When Giulio Romano and his assistants painted the Orphic frescoes in 1528 they
imputed Orpheus‘ virtues of temperance, justice, and liberality to the Gonzaga men.
However, the frescoes also provoked behavior, for the intertextual and intervisual nature
of Orpheus meant that he was both an exemplar and a warning, both a husband who
loved his wife, and the inventor of pederasty. Orpheus was a high-minded humanist role
model and a figure for the different types of sexual pleasure available to Renaissance
men. The frescoes therefore provided an opportunity for homosocial bonding; at the
Palazzo del Te courtly men could choose to engage in humanist discourse or to
investigate sensual pleasure; they could pursue women and the sexual delights they
535
Warden, "Orpheus and Ficino," 90-91, 98.
536
184
offered, or renounce their company in favor of intellectual discussions with their male
peers.
However, almost fifty years later, the context of the frescoes had changed beyond
what either Giulio Romano or Federico II Gonzaga could have anticipated. Despite the
fact that the Palazzo del Te was a place wherein courtiers and princes enacted masculine
roles, Vincenzo Gonzaga‘s failure to perform reveals that without a masculine identity
already firmly established, the images of the palace could call forth a more troubling
response. As she stood in front of the Orphic frescoes, Eleonora de‘ Medici may have
perceived herself as Eurydice, a woman whose husband was so devoted to her that he
would follow her to the afterlife and renounce all others if they were ever parted.
However, Eurydice was a problematic figure, for in literature she was identified with
dangerous sensuality that tempts men away from reason. Despite the ambiguity of her
reputation, Eurydice appeared in the marital context of Renaissance cassoni, where Rose
Marie San Jan has argued that she was figured as a desirable, yet chaste wife whose
emotional suffering presented an heroic opportunity for brides to enact loyalty and
virtue.537 Yet, San Juan notes that in furniture panels Eurydice appears in poses that
mirror the Virgin Mary as well as the mythical flight of Daphne, who spurned the
advances of her divine suitor.538
Despite the visual and literary tradition that Giulio could have used to classify
Eurydice as exemplar or warning, he has depicted Aristaeus and his prey in an ambiguous
and novel manner. Eurydice does not look over her shoulder, as both she and Daphne
537
San Juan, "The Myth of Eurydice in Italian Furniture Painting," 139.
538
Ibid.: 137-38. In a panel from the Botticelli workshop Aristaeus moves to genuflect like the archangel
Gabriel, while Eurydice‘s gesture mirrors the demur of the surprised Virgin Annunciate. In a Sienese panel
which depicts her death, Eurydice falls in the arms of her followers in a manner clearly based upon images
of the Virgin‘s swoon at the foot of the cross.
185
often do when fleeing their pursuers. The backward glance allows the artist to clearly
represent her terrified facial expression, and also provides a tantalizing twist to the body
that demonstrates artistic skill at depicting the human form from various angles. Instead,
the emotions of Giulio‘s Eurydice are difficult to discern: in both the damaged fresco and
Ippolito Andreasi‘s later drawing she appears rather expressionless. Additionally, the
putto is an unusual figure in the Eurydice iconography. Giulio‘s putto does not simply
glide nearby, providing a kind of impish gloss to Aristaeus‘ actions; he is actively
involved in the scene, though his actions are somewhat ambiguous. In the original fresco
the putto appears to grasp Eurydice‘s veil in an attempt to aid Aristaeus, while in the
Andreasi drawing he seems to restrain Aristaeus. Whether as hindrance or help, the
presence of the putto lends the fresco a playful atmosphere that mitigates any moral
interpretation of the scene.
Giulio‘s Aristaeus and Eurydice was not created for a marital context, yet
Eleonora de‘ Medici‘s previous experience with the myth, as well as her newly-wed
status, would have led her to interpret the images in that way. The Medici princess was
already familiar with the iconography of Orpheus, and would have been well-acquainted
with the marital significance of the myth, for a similarly multi-layered painting by
Bronzino depicted her grandfather in the guise of the hero. Agnolo Bronzino‘s enigmatic
portrait of Duke Cosimo I de’ Medici as Orpheus has also been interpreted in light of
Renaissance marriage practices and nuptial imagery (Fig. 95). While there is no scholarly
consensus on the meaning of this portrait, it has been argued that the painting was
intended as a show of everlasting fidelity to the Duke‘s new bride, Eleonora of Toledo.
Drawing upon the courtly tradition in which the couple is reunited, it has been proposed
186
that Bronzino depicted Cosimo as a faithful lover who would follow Eleonora of Toledo
to the depths of the underworld if need be.539
From the point of view of Eleonora de‘ Medici‘s experience at the Palazzo del Te,
it is important to note that Bronzino‘s portrait has at least partially solved the problem of
Orpheus‘ effeminate and impotent reputation in ancient literature. From between
Cosimo‘s legs sprouts a large bow, which the duke manipulates with his right hand. Lest
the viewer‘s thoughts turn towards Ovid‘s description of the hero‘s pederasty, Cosimo-
Orpheus holds a lira da braccio in his left hand, its pegbox suggestively shaped like
female genitalia. 540 Whether as lover, peacemaker, or patron of the arts, Bronzino‘s
portrait depicts the Duke-as-Orpheus as a robust, potent man with normative heterosexual
desires. Far from the ineffectual figure who fails to save his wife from death and who, in
despair, turns away from masculine behavior, Cosimo-Orpheus is depicted as an active,
sexually alluring hero.541
539
Robert B. Simon, "Bronzino's Cosimo I de' Medici as Orpheus," Philadelphia Museum of Art Bulletin
81, no. 348 (1985): 20-21. Based upon this interpretation, Simon dates the painting to 1539, the year in
which Cosimo and Eleaonora were wed, and proposes that it was a bridal gift to Eleonora. Simon also
tentatively links the painting to Baccio Bandinelli‘s statue of Orpheus and suggests that it may also have
been intended to depict Cosimo as a peacemaker. Simon‘s reading has been challenged by Elizabeth
Cropper, "Pontormo and Bronzino in Philadelphia: A Double Portrait," in Pontormo, Bronzino, and the
Medici: The Transformation of the Renaissance Portrait in Florence, ed. Carl Brandon Strehlke
(Philadelphia: Philadelphia Museum of Art, 2004), 27-29. Cropper also associates the portrait with
marriage, but argues that Bronzino has flattered Cosimo by syllogistically linking him to Aeneas, whom
Virgil compares to Orpheus in their common desire to rescue the deceased from the underworld. Cropper‘s
argument rests on a rather complex and convoluted reading of Virgil, but one that was not outside the realm
of possibility under Cosimo‘s rule of Florence.
540
For the associations of the musical instruments with human genitalia, see Simon, "Bronzino's Cosimo I
de' Medici as Orpheus," 23. Technical analysis of the painting has revealed that Bronzino made changes to
the portrait that enhanced its erotic quality: he moved the bow from a position parallel to Cosimo‘s thigh to
its current location between his legs. Mark S. Tucker, "Discoveries Made during the Treatment of
Bronzino's Cosimo I de' Medici as Orpheus," Philadelphia Museum of Art Bulletin 81, no. 348 (1985): 28-
32.
541
Simon, "Bronzino's Cosimo I de' Medici as Orpheus," 21-22. Simon rightly identifies the Belvedere
Torso, then believed to depict Hercules, as the source for Cosimo‘s pose and physique in Bronzino‘s
portrait. I would add that Cosimo‘s visual and bodily association with the masculine hero, who was
successful in his labors and was ultimately deified obscures the non-normative masculine behaviors
associated with Orpheus.
187
However, for Cosimo‘s granddaughter, the frescoes at the Palazzo del Te were
somewhat more fraught. Eleonora de‘ Medici was not Vincenzo Gonzaga‘s first wife, and
could therefore not convincingly play Eurydice to his Orpheus. Moreover, even if
Eleonora wholeheartedly accepted the annulment of Vincenzo‘s first marriage to
Margherita Farnese, images of Orpheus would have done little to allay her fears
concerning her husband‘s potency. For, like Vincenzo, Orpheus was unmanned by
women: after Eurydice‘s death, the hero spurned the company of the female sex, and was
eventually overcome and torn to pieces by angry women. Unlike Bronzino‘s portrait,
Giulio Romano‘s frescoes do not contradict aspersions made on Orpheus‘ masculinity: it
is Aristeaus who is represented as a lover of women. His actions are abetted and
sanctioned by the putto, and his active pursuit of Eurydice contrasts sharply with
Orpheus‘ torpor.542 Orpheus is static, caught in his own despair and therefore unable to
engage in the pursuit of sexual pleasure as Aristaeus does. He reclines against a tree in
the background his lyre in hand and his legs spread out before him.
Giulio‘s depiction of the hero is unique in Renaissance art for several reasons. 543
The traditional iconography of Orpheus among the animals places the hero in a rocky
landscape, similar to a grotto (Fig. 96) or a pastoral landscape densely packed with
animals and trees (Fig. 97). I know of no Renaissance image in which the hero is so
difficult to distinguish from the animal and vegetal forms which surround him, nor one in
which he is so visually isolated from the other figures. The Greek hero is always
542
W.S. Anderson has proposed a similar literary tension between Aristaeus, who boldly sets out to recover
his lost bees, and Orpheus, who ―becomes an emblem of inertia and death.‖ Thus, Virgil describes
Aristaeus as the true hero, and uses Orpheus as a foil to highlight the moral value of the farmer as
productive and life-sustaining. Anderson, "The Orpheus of Virgil and Ovid," 34-35.
543
For a list of Renaissance images of Orpheus, see Scavizzi, "Orpheus in Italian Renaissance Art," 158-61.
It should be noted that Scavizzi‘s list is incomplete. For example, he mentions the fresco in the Camera di
Ovidio, but omits the two images in the Loggia delle Muse.
188
positioned in the fore- or middle-ground, often at the center of the composition with his
legs crossed. Giulio‘s treatment violates the iconographic tradition: the tiny figure of
Orpheus sits with his legs splayed out before him, slumped toward his lyre. Orpheus‘
position in the background of the composition and his relaxed posture make him appear
ineffectual.
In contrast to Eurydice and Aristaeus, in which Eurydice and her pursuer rush
across the foreground, Orpheus amongst the Animals is calm and sedate. The viewer‘s
focus is drawn not to Orpheus, but to a monkey or ape which sits on a ledge in the
foreground of the fresco and looks outward, to address the viewer. The monkey sits at the
edge of the picture plane, and his outward gaze bridges the space between the fresco and
the viewer.544 The monkey invites the viewer into the painting, for he is clearly a part of
Orpheus‘ entourage; yet, the creation of the ledge also separates the two realms, and the
impression of vast space within the painting makes Orpheus appear even more
unreachable.
In addition to the ape‘s role as a mimic in artistic production,545 he was also
viewed as a parody of human love and desire. In Gothic marginalia lascivious apes take
the places of knights, and their lewd actions with fair ladies mock the chivalrous ideal. In
Renaissance prints apes sometimes gaze at their own reflections in mirrors, oblivious to
the young couple below who are engaged in an amorous relationship. The ape ensnared
by his mirror-image functions as an allegory of the captive lover of courtly romance, and
simultaneously reminds the viewer of the carnal passion experienced by the supposedly
544
545
189
chaste lovers.546 From antiquity apes were also associated with unrestrained sexuality:
myths and rumors spoke of apes who chased and raped human women, and of women
who fell in love with apes and conceived children with them. 547
For Eleonora and Vincenzo the simian onlooker in the Loggia delle Muse may
have carried a variety of meanings. He may have reminded them of the artist‘s imitative
talents, and the ability of art to so closely counterfeit nature that the eye is fooled. His
misbehavior may have mediated Orpheus‘ unusual position, for the monkey‘s inattentive
outward gaze contrasts with the utter absorption of Orpheus, who is so focused upon his
music that he becomes a part of the scene he has created. As a parody of love and desire,
the monkey satirized the devotion and passion that Vincenzo and Eleonora were expected
to feel for one another. Finally, the ape‘s long history of sexual deviance recalled
Vincenzo‘s problematic sexuality, and its direct stare coupled with Orpheus‘ inactivity
may have mocked the prince‘s virility.
Due to questions surrounding Vincenzo‘s gendered and sexual performance the
Orphic frescoes in the Loggia delle Muse presented an interpretive challenge to Eleonora
and her groom. While Giulio‘s juxtaposition of active Aristaeus and passive Orpheus
arguably remains faithful to Virgil‘s intent, it proves problematic in a nuptial context. 548
Eurydice is presented as the object of Aristaeus‘ actions. She lacks visual similarity to
other mythological or religious female figures and therefore does not signify either virtue
or vice; as such, she offered no moral guidance to Eleonora de‘ Medici. Giulio‘s
depiction of Orpheus effeminizes him and strips the hero of agency. Orpheus appears
546
Janson, Apes and Ape Lore, 261-62.
547
Ibid., 265-70. Janson argues that the ape was specifically connected to male virility, but the literary
record includes instances of male and female cupidity related to apes. This suggests that apes were more
widely connected with aberrant sexuality than with one gender in particular.
548
Cf. n. 542 above.
190
non-generative, inactive, and impotent. Rather than highlighting Vincenzo‘s virtues, the
frescoes in the Loggia delle Muse call attention to his previous, unsuccessful marriage
and his procreative fears. Moreover, the lunettes physically separate Orpheus and
Eurydice, and therefore omit any reference to marital devotion.
From the Loggia delle Muse, the bridal party entered the Sala dei Cavalli, wherein
portraits of Federico II Gonzaga‘s favorite horses stand calmly in front of Corinthian
pilasters that frame windows into an idyllic countryside (Fig. 24). The Gonzaga closely
identified with their horses, and their depiction at the Palazzo del Te testified to the
dynasty‘s virility and robust masculinity: the fertility and fearlessness of the Gonzaga
horses stood for the family itself. 549 For Eleonora and Vincenzo, the Sala dei Cavalli at
the Palazzo del Te should have offered proof of the prince‘s ability to procreate. Like his
forebears and their horses, Vincenzo was sexually potent, strong, and ready to sire a
stable of Gonzaga heirs with his wife.
In both art and literature the unbridled horse was a symbol of passionate male lust
that could only be tamed by marriage. Titian‘s Sacred and Profane Love features an
unbridled, rearing horse on the sarcophagus at the center of the composition. In Titian‘s
painting, the implication is that the lustful desires of the groom will be restrained by his
love for, and sexual access to, his wife. 550 Moreover, in Pietro Aretino‘s Ragionamenti
the term cavallo is a euphemism for the phallus. The prostitute Nanna recounts that she
ordered her lover to ―Go and get the horse [cavallo] ready, so that as soon as dinner is
549
550
Erwin Panofsky, Problems in Titian, mostly iconographic, The Wrightsman Lectures (New York: New
York University Press, 1969), 118-19. In addition, an engraving by Giulio Bonasone with the inscription
Semper Libidini Imperat Prudentia depicts one horse being brought under control by a bridle while another
unbridled horse rears in the background, and in the background of Palma il Vecchio‘s La Bella a relief
shows an unbridled horse trampling a nude man. Santore, "The Tools of Venus," 192.
191
over, I may mount stirrups.‖551 In both Aretino‘s dialogue and Titian‘s painting, the wild
urges of the cavallo must be calmed through frequent exercise and controlled by bridles
or stirrups. In contrast, Giulio Romano‘s horses need no taming, they stand already
bridled and calmly await their masters. While the horses were clearly intended to
represent a robust Gonzaga masculinity controlled by virtue and reason, for Vincenzo
their inactivity was problematic. Rather than reinforcing Vincenzo‘s virility, the
submissive horses hinted at the quiescence of his manhood and suggested that his lust
was too controlled.
From the sexual and marital inconsistencies of Orpheus to inactive horses, the
Palazzo del Te had thus far presented mixed masculine signals to the bride and her
entourage. Yet, despite the troubling nature of the images in 1584, the Palazzo del Te
continued to be used in the wedding processions of Vincenzo‘s sons, Francesco IV and
Ferdinando, though with some important alterations. During Vincenzo‘s reign, the
Gonzaga seem to have renewed their interest in the Palazzo del Te: banquets for visiting
diplomats were held there and Vincenzo commissioned work in the gardens, most
notably the addition of the grotta.552 The continued use of the Palazzo del Te by
Vincenzo and his heirs is at least partially attributable to Vincenzo‘s taste for opulence, 553
as well as to the fact that by the 1608 wedding of Francesco IV and Margherita di Savoia,
551
Aretino, I Ragionamenti, 82.
552
The Duke of Bavaria was given a tour of the Palazzo del Te during his visit in March of 1593 and the
Archduke Maximilian was treated to a tournament of arms in the courtyard of the Palazzo del Te when he
visited Mantua in April 1604. See, respectively, ASMn, AG, b. 2659, 29 March 1593 and ASMn, AG, b.
2260, 30 April 1604. Payment records for work at the palace date primarily from 1593 when Vincenzo was
constructing a cistern at the palace, but a document from 1595 records payment for the ―fontana dela grotta
dal The.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 3125, f. 578r.
553
Vincenzo spend large sums on court entertainments, and attracted some of the most notable artists and
writers of the day to Mantua, among them Rubens, Monteverdi, and Torquato Tasso. Coniglio, I Gonzaga,
394-402. He also maintained an especially large court. During the 1589 wedding of Ferdinando de‘ Medici
and Christine de Lorraine, Vincenzo and Eleonora arrived in Florence with a retinue of 700 persons, by far
the largest delegation. Saslow, The Medici Wedding of 1589, 137.
192
the processional route between the Palazzo del Te and the Palazzo Ducale had been
firmly established as a Gonzaga tradition. However, it is also clear that in the late
sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries the Gonzaga had begun to stage larger and
grander nuptial festivities that included processions, comedies, and jousts.554 Its
sumptuous decoration, large rooms, and axial location made the Palazzo del Te an ideal
space in which to stage the bride‘s triumphal entry into the city.
Moreover, while the Loggia delle Muse and the Sala dei Cavalli may have
presented mixed messages to the bride, the Camera di Psiche represented marriage as
both a divine union and an earthly delight. Above, the marriage of Cupid and Psyche is
conducted by Jupiter and witnessed by the gods, while below earthly pleasures, such as
wine, food, and companionship await. In his images of Orpheus and Eurydice Giulio
Romano placed the couple in separate lunettes. Their visual divorce emphasizes their
narrative separation and their fruitless efforts to reunite. In contrast, in the Camera di
Psiche Cupid and Psyche are visually joined both in the scene of their marriage at the
center of the ceiling and below in the rustic banquet (Figs. 27 and 32). Furthermore, in
the banqueting scene on the south wall Cupid and Psyche are surrounded by lush
vegetation, flowing water, and are shown reclining on a couch, their child cozily
positioned between them. In addition to the exhortations to normative sexuality depicted
in the framed scenes of Bacchus and Ariadne, Jupiter and Olympia, and Pasiphae and
the Bull, the images of Cupid and Psyche promoted a normative and procreative sexual
union between husband and wife. The iconography of the Camera di Psiche resonated
554
Compare the 1561 arrangements for the marriage of Guglielmo Gonzaga and Eleonora von Habsburg to
the 1608 festivities for Francesco Gonzaga‘s marriage to Margherita di Savoia. Andrea Arrivabene, I
grandi apparati, le giostre, l'imprese, e i trionfi, fatti nella città di Mantoua, nelle Nozze dell'Illustrissimo
&Eccellentissimo Signor Duca di Mantoua, Marchese di Monferrato. Con tutt'il successo dell'entrata di
sua Altezza (Mantua: Giacomo Ruffinelli, 1561); Follino, Compendio.
193
with the Gonzaga dynasty‘s nuptial needs, and the sumptuousness of the palace so
attracted Vincenzo I Gonzaga that he continued to use it, even after his precarious
position during Eleonora de‘ Medici‘s 1584 arrival in Mantua.
Although not originally intended to celebrate marriage, in 1584 the Camera di
Psiche promised a fruitful union. Putti, the fat baby boys the Gonzaga dynasty so badly
desired, play on the walls and the ceiling above, while Cupid and Psyche lounge happily
with their own child. The Camera di Psiche also attested to the potency of the Gonzaga
household – lascivious satyrs gaze at nymphs, their thoughts made visible in their
obvious erections, while Jupiter is shown fathering Alexander, an act that Vincenzo
would soon repeat. Despite the accusations of the Farnese and whispers of the court,
Vincenzo fathered four sons and two daughters with Eleonora de‘ Medici.
Following Feminine Virtue
When it came time for the wedding of his eldest son, Vincenzo Gonzaga turned
once again to the Palazzo del Te. More than any other Gonzaga prince, Vincenzo
appreciated the theatrical nature of the palace. During his reign the palace became a
centerpiece of Gonzaga court entertainment and a building known throughout Europe for
its frescoes and mysterious acoustic effects. 555 Vincenzo recognized that the palace could
be used to enact princely values, such as magnificence, largesse, and witty
intellectualism. He also knew that the Palazzo del Te could provoke the performance of
555
The increased role of the Palazzo del Te is attested to by, ASMn, AG, b. 402, f. 470r-473v, a list of
expenses incurred at the Palazzo del Te from March to August 1593. Among other more quotidian
expenditures, the list includes 6 ducats paid to a Spanish buffoon for entertaining the duchess, 13 lire paid
to four violinists who played for the duke, and expenses incurred for the transportation of four paintings
blessed in Rome from the Palazzo Ducale to the Palazzo del Te and back again.
Visitors were especially taken with the echo effect of the Sala dei Giganti, and accounts from the mid-
sixteenth century onward repeatedly express awe at the room‘s acoustics. See Schizzerotto, Mantova 2000:
anni di ritratti, 107, 40-41, 48.
194
virility, or remind viewers of its lack. His use of the palace in court entertainments and
nuptial ceremonies demonstrates his recognition of the building‘s active role in the
construction and continuity of the Gonzaga dynasty. However, unlike his father and
grandfather before him, it seems that Vincenzo also recognized the subversive potential
of the palace. Therefore, he altered the bridal procession of his daughter-in-law,
Margherita di Savoia, in order to re-shape the way in which visitors experienced the
Palazzo del Te.
The 1608 marriage of Francesco IV Gonzaga and Margherita di Savoia was
intended to end hostilities between the dukes of Mantua and Savoy over the territory of
Monferrato.556 While it bordered the duchy of Savoy, Monferrato had passed to the
Gonzaga dynasty in 1536.557 The two were married in Turin on 19 February 1608, with a
Savoy cousin, Henry I, Duke of Nemours, acting as proxy for the groom.558 The Gonzaga
expected the bride to arrive in Mantua to celebrate and consummate the wedding
immediately after Easter, but her father Charles Emmanuel continued to postpone the
date of his daughter‘s departure.559 By the time that Margherita and her entourage arrived
556
Romolo Quazza, La guerra per la successione di Mantova e del Monferrato (1628-31), 2 vols. (Mantua:
G. Mondovì e figli, 1926), 14-55.The union was arranged by Pope Paul V and Philip III of Spain.
Negotiations began in 1601 and were not finalized until January of 1608.
557
Davari, "Federico Gonzaga e la famiglia Paleologo," 85-90. Upon the death of Giovanni Giorgio
Paleologo in 1533, the Gonzaga claimed rights to Monferrato through Margherita Paleologa, the sole
surviving heir and wife of Federico II Gonzaga. Federico II Gonzaga was granted the title Marchese of
Monferrato in 1536 by Charles V.
558
See, ASMn, AG, b. 735, fasc. 1, f. 32r. ―Questa notte finalm. te il s.r Duca di Nemors ha sposata la Ser.ma
Infanta D. Margherita per nome del Ser.mo Sig.r Prencipe [Tonight, the Duke of Nemors has finally married
the Most Serene Infanta Margherita in the name of the Most Serene Prince.]‖
559
Easter Sunday was 6 April 1608. On 28 April Vincenzo Gonzaga that ―‘entrata dell‘Infanta nostra
Nuora [Margherita di Savoia] s‘è differita per certi novi rispetti alli 28 del mese [the entrance of the
Infanta, our daughter-in-law, has been deferred due to certain new reasons until the 28th of the month].‖ See
ASMn, b. 2163, fasc. I, f. 67r. However, on 22 April the duke had been advised that ―per certi impedimenti
del signor Duca di Savoia s'è prolomgata la venuta dell'Infanta nostra N[u]ora sino alli quattro o sei di
Maggio [due to certain impediments of the Duke of Savoy, the arrival of the Infanta our daughter-in-law
has been extended until the fourth or sixth of May].‖ Ibid., 85r. By 16 May Vincenzo‘s frustration becomes
evident, as he writes of the Duke of Savoy ―che con andar procrastinando [who continues to
procrastinate].‖ Ibid., 105r.
195
in Mantua on 24 May the Gonzaga were disgruntled and offended by Charles
Emmanuel‘s manifest reluctance to marry his daughter to the Mantuan heir. Nevertheless,
the Gonzaga were determined to impress their new in-laws with all the pomp and
magnificence possible.
The nuptial festivities of Francesco IV and Margherita di Savoia were the
grandest that had ever been held in Mantua. In his Compendio delle sontuose feste fatte
l’anno MDCVIII nella città di Mantova Federico Follino documented the bride‘s
triumphal entry and the elaborate entertainments that followed, which featured two long
theatrical performances, a joust, and a mock naval battle between Christians and Turks
held on the Mincio. 560 The Palazzo del Te was more involved in the celebration of the
1608 wedding than it had been on any previous occasion: not only was it the entry point
of Margherita di Savoia during her triumphal procession, Alfonso III d‘Este and his new
bride, Isabella di Savoia were formally greeted and welcomed to Mantua at the Porta del
Te, and the penultimate feast of the celebrations was held at the palace. 561 While the
Palazzo del Te does not feature in the most magnificent banquets and theatrical
performances arranged during the nuptials, its liminal position at the edge of Mantua was
used to both open and close the ceremonies.
560
Follino, Compendio, 29-65; 67-124. The theatrical performances were the Arianna Tragedia by Ottavio
Rinuccini and La Idropica, a comedy by Battista Guarini. Follino includes fold-out engravings of the naval
battle and a triumphal cart seemingly pulled by seahorses, both designed by Gabriele Bertazzolo.
561
Ibid., 7; 27-29; 149. I have found no express mention of the Palazzo del Te in the archival documents.
While the reports of Annibale Roncaglia, the Mantuan ambassador for the Este family, confirm almost all
of the actions narrated by Follino, Roncaglia is not as specific regarding the place where such things
happened, and since Roncaglia arrive in Mantua on 27 April with the Este party, he was not present for
Margherita‘s entry into the city. See, specifically, Archivio di Stato di Modena [ASMo], Cancelleria
Ducale, Ambasciatori di Mantova, b. 8, f. 1r-v where Roncaglia describes the entry of Alfonso III d‘Este
and Isabella di Savoia into Mantua, but is much more interested in describing who was present than where
the events took place.
196
Vincenzo also changed the way in which the bride and her entourage approached
the palace. In contrast to Vincenzo‘s two brides, Margherita di Savoia did not encounter
her groom and father-in-law outside the Palazzo del Te and then enter the palace via the
Loggia della Muse. Instead, she met her groom and father-in-law at Pietole, and traveled
with them to the Palazzo del Te, where she was greeted by a salvo of guns and artillery
from the walls of the city. Margherita entered the Palazzo del Te by means of the Loggia
di Davide and was met there by Eleonora de‘ Medici, duchess of Mantua, along with
Margherita Gonzaga, dowager duchess of Ferrara. 562 The Gonzaga women took
Margherita into the palace, where she rested from the fatigue of her journey and then
dressed for the grand procession that would follow. While Vincenzo I and Francesco IV
Gonzaga must have accompanied Margherita into the palace, the impression provided by
Follino‘s text is that Margherita‘s visit to the Palazzo del Te was supervised and
conducted by the Gonzaga women. 563
However, because she entered through the Loggia di Davide, rather than the
Loggia delle Muse, Margherita‘s first impression of the Palazzo del Te was of
overwhelming triumph. Giulio Romano had modeled the eastern garden façade of the
palace on a Roman triumphal arch, and the spandrels of the loggia and fields between the
smaller arches were originally painted with winged victories, trophies, and spoils of war,
including captives (Figs. 17 and 18). Coupled with the staccato rhythm of the columns,
562
Ibid., 7. Follino writes that Margherita di Savoia was met by the Gonaga women under the gran loggia.
The Loggia di Davide was referred to as ―un gran loggia‖ on the ground plan of the palace made by Jacopo
Strada. Davari, Descrizione del palazzo del Te, 41.
563
There is some ambiguity in Follino‘s description of Margherita‘s sojourn at the palace. He first writes
that after she greeted the duchesses they ―then conducted her inside the palace,‖ but then follows that ―she
was quite restored by those gardens,‖ which suggests that she stayed outside the palace. Follino,
Compendio. It may be that Follino is attempting to indicate that Margherita rested in one of the rooms that
faced the gardens, perhaps the Camera di Psiche, which had previously been praised as ―the most beautiful
and most airy [fresco] place in that palace.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 389, f. 153v.
197
archways, and colonettes, the façade must have appeared very dynamic and imposing to
the young bride. As a blatant physical sign of victory, the garden façade may have been
intended to subtly remind Margherita and her party of the Gonzaga dynasty‘s continued
hold over Monferrato. However, the decision to re-orient the bride‘s approach to the
Palazzo del Te was likely also intended to mitigate the interpretive problems occasioned
by the Orphic frescoes in the Loggia delle Muse. Margherita di Savoia was greeted by
fertile gardens and victorious architecture, rather than images of death and impotence.
The bride encountered the matriarchs of her new family under the large barrel-
vault of the Loggia di Davide, amidst images of David‘s heroic exploits and infamous
pursuit of Bathsheba (Figs.48, 49, and 50).564 The image of a vain and sexually available
Bathsheba depicted in the ceiling frescoes would have afforded the male viewer
voyeuristic pleasure, but for Margherita di Savoia the implications were much more
serious. While she might appreciate the virtuoso composition of the hexagonal bath in the
central scene, it is doubtful that Margherita experienced illicit sexual pleasure in the
Bathsheba frescoes. The Renaissance preoccupation with female chastity meant that
Bathsheba served as a warning to Margherita: vanity led to sin, and adultery to death. The
moral of the frescoes was emphasized by the presence of the Gonzaga matriarchs. As
pious, chaste wives they provided an ideal counterpart to Bathsheba, and a guide to the
young bride. As she followed Eleonora de‘ Medici and Margherita Gonzaga into the
Palazzo del Te, Margherita di Savoia was encouraged to emulate their behavior, rather
than that of Bathsheba.
The frescoes of the Camera di Psiche also reinforced and complimented the
exhortation to proper sexual behavior depicted in the Loggia di Davide. Like the frescoes
564
For an iconographic discussion of the frescoes, see pp. 50-54 above.
198
of Bathsheba, the image of Pasiphae and the Bull encouraged Margherita to reject lust
and embrace feminine chastity and wifely devotion. The Jupiter and Olympia, Bacchus
and Ariadne, and the frescoes of Cupid and Psyche both demonstrated natural sexual
positions and presented their rewards, and the images of beautiful nude women and their
heroic consorts may have acted as a visual impetus to sexual relations within marriage.
While the message of the Bathsheba frescoes is perhaps not the most joyful way
to greet a new bride, coupled with the triumphal eastern façade and her encounter with
the female members of the Gonzaga family, Margherita‘s entrance into the Palazzo del
Te represented a powerful display of triumphant masculinity and provided the bride with
models for her own wedded behavior. Additionally, the Loggia di Davide offered
Margherita visions of vigorous and victorious Gonzaga masculinity, both in the triumphal
façade and the almost Herculean images of David‘s defeat of human and animal foes.
The presence of the duchesses of Mantua and Ferrara served as living exempla to the new
bride and showed her the way to behave at the Gonzaga court. Coupled with the
exhortation to conjugal chastity in the Loggia di Davide and the fecund and amorous
frescoes in the Camera di Psiche, Margherita di Savoia‘s entry into the Palazzo del Te
proved much less problematic than that of her predecessor, Eleonora de‘ Medici.
Vincenzo had reshaped the way in which the bride and her entourage would
experience the Palazzo del Te in order to reinforce Margherita di Savoia‘s position in
Mantua. He had altered Margherita‘s approach so that she entered the palace through the
garden façade, and the Loggia di Davide. The loggia is both inside and outside, both open
and closed, for its windows and doors allow passage through the palace, while its blind
niches and arcades visually and physically block access. The liminal nature of the loggia
199
was the ideal place to greet the bride, who was inextricably bound to the Gonzaga, as she
was the means through which the dynasty might continue, while at the same time a
member of a rival family. Vincenzo also transformed what had been a masculine affair
outside the perimeter of palace into a feminine encounter at the porous boundary of the
building. The painted bodies of the women and men in the frescoes, coupled with the
physical bodies of the Gonzaga duchesses and the clothing of her own form as the newest
Gonzaga woman encouraged Margherita to identify herself as a model wife and daughter.
The reorientation of the bride‘s progress through the Palazzo del Te elicited the
performance of marital chastity from a bride who physically followed in the footsteps of
her dutiful and bountiful mother-in-law.
Marital Missteps
Like Vincenzo I Gonzaga‘s marriage to Margherita Farnese, the union of
Francesco IV Gonzaga and Margherita Savoia did not last long; and like his father‘s
failed matrimony, the end of Francesco‘s marriage caused considerable anxiety for the
Gonzaga family. Francesco IV Gonzaga died on 22 December 1612, less than a year after
he became duke of Mantua. While his marriage to Margherita di Savoia had produced
three children, and one male heir, all but the eldest daughter, Maria, predeceased their
father. Francesco IV‘s lack of male progeny meant that the duchy of Mantua fell to his
younger brother, Ferdinando, while the duchy of Monferrato was claimed by Margherita
di Savoia for her young daughter.565 Francesco‘s death broke up the Gonzaga patrimony
565
Coniglio, I Gonzaga, 409-14.The ability of the duchy of Monferrato to pass to a female heir in the
absence of male inheritors had been established by Margherita Paleologa in 1533. Margherita di Savoia‘s
claims to Monferrato as the regent for her daughter opened the way for renewed hostilities between the
dukes of Mantua and Savoy.
200
and ushered in a dynastic crisis. Although Ferdinando Gonzaga was the next eligible heir,
he was a cardinal, and had to renounce his ecclesiastic position before he could assume
the title of Duke. Moreover, he showed little inclination to enter into matrimony and,
thus, ensure the continuation of the Gonzaga dynasty. 566
Ferdinando‘s reign was troubled by anxieties surrounding his masculinity, and
therefore, his ability to rule. The transformation from a supposedly chaste cleric to a
virile prince was not facilitated overnight. Despite the fact that Francesco had apparently
kept a mistress while in Rome, the problematic masculinity of the cleric still followed
him. In 1615 the Venetian ambassador Giovanni da Mulla reported that while Ferdinando
was ―thin and muscular,‖ he was also ―of delicate complexion, with an elegant
[leggiadro] appearance and of a smooth face, and full of grace [venustà].‖567 In his
description of Ferdinando‘s physical appearance the Venetian ambassador uses terms
normally applied to women. Ferdinando is leggiadro, the masculine form of leggiadria, a
word which denotes the delicate grace and elegance displayed by women;568 he is also
possessed of venustà, or the beauty and elegance of the female form. 569 While da Mulla
stresses the duke‘s passion for music and poetry, but never once credits him with
masculine pursuits, such as hunting or swordplay.
Most importantly, the ambassador writes that there is much anxiety concerning
the succession in Mantua, and that it would be best if Ferdinando would marry quickly
and produce heirs. However, there are rumors in Mantua concerning ―the inability of the
566
Ibid., 414-15. Ferdinando formally renounced his clerical position in December of 1615.
567
A. Segarizzi, ed. Relazioni degli ambasciatori veneti al Senato, 4 vols. (Bari: 1912), 139. ―...magre ed
asciuta, di delicata complessione, di leggiadro aspetto e di faccia amabile e piena di venustà.‖
568
Fermor, "Gender and Movement," 50.
569
Mark Roskill, Dolce's Aretino and Venetian Art Theory of the Cinquecento (New York: College Art
Association, 1968), 25; 44; 174; 86. The art theorist Lodovico Dolce specifically connects venustà to the
female nude in his discussion of Apelles.
201
Duke and of [his brother] Don Vincenzo to procreate.‖570 Giovanni da Mulla concedes
that many consider such rumors to be malicious lies, yet ―the grave and significant
problem is that the Duke is not married, he remains thus ... the years pass, and the
occasions [for marriage] also fly by, and together with them, all the hopes of a good
resolution.‖571 Giovanni da Mulla paints a portrait of Ferdinando Gonzaga as feminine in
his behaviors, perhaps impotent, and disinclined to take a wife and thereby complete his
dynastic duty. Ferdinando‘s masculine performance was that of a cleric: learned, elegant,
and chaste, yet he was no longer a cardinal. Should the duke fail to produce heirs,
Vincenzo II is no better prepared to succeed, as his sexual performance is also
questionable. The failure of the remaining Gonzaga heirs to enact a robust, virile
masculinity was noted by observers at home and abroad, and caused much concern for
the future of the dynasty.
Amidst rumors of effeminacy and sexual deficiency, Ferdinando began to court
Camilla Faà da Bruno, a girl of sixteen years from Monferrato, who had entered the
Gonzaga court as a lady-in-waiting to Margherita di Savoia. 572 Ferdinando first noticed
Camilla in September of 1615 as he indulged in a series of court entertainments. 573
Although he understood that their marriage would cause difficulties, and at one time
proposed that Camilla become his mistress, she stubbornly refused to yield. The two were
570
―...dell‘inabilità del signor duca e di don Vincenzo alla procreazione.‖ Segarizzi, ed. Relazioni, 145.
571
―... il grave e rilevante intricco è che il signor duca non si marita, sta così ... gli anni trascorrono, e
l‘occasioni anco possono fuggirsi e, con esse insieme, le speranze del bene.‖ Ibid.
572
Giuseppe Giorcelli, "Documenti storici del Monferrato. Memorie di Camilla Faa contessina di Bruno e
marchesa di Monbaruzzo (1622)," Rivista di storia, arte, archeologia della provincia di Alessandria 4, no.
10 (1895): 74-76. After the death of Francesco IV, Camilla had briefly traveled to Turin with Margherita,
but as hostilities between the Gonzaga and the Savoy worsened, Camilla and other Mantuan ladies returned
home. Ferdinando retained the female courtiers in the hope that he would shortly marry his sister-in-law,
and the ladies could return to their duties at Margherita‘s court. Negotiations with the Savoy soured, and
Ferdinando remained unwed. For a brief biographical sketch in English see Valeria Finucci, "The Italian
Memorialist: Camilla Faà Gonzaga," in Women Writers of the Seventeenth Century, ed. Katharina M.
Wilson and Frank J. Warnke (Athens: The University of Georgia Press, 1989), 121-28.
573
Antonio Possevino, Historia Belli Monferratensis (Mantua: Petrus Albertus, 1637), 7.
202
secretly married in February of 1616, and Camilla gave birth to their son, Giacinto
Gonzaga, in December of the same year. Although Ferdinando had promised to publicly
announce their union and make Camilla his duchess, familial and political pressures led
the Duke to renounce the marriage less than one year later. Ferdinando then married
Caterina de‘ Medici; Camilla was eventually sent to a monastery in Ferrara; Giacinto was
brought up at the Mantuan court as Ferdinando‘s natural son. After she took her final
vows in 1622, Camilla wrote a history of her relationship with Ferdinando in which she
describes their courtship and brief marriage. 574 While Camilla‘s narrative remained
relatively unknown during her lifetime, nineteenth-century Romantic writers were quite
taken with her story and several quasi-historical novellas appeared.575 Camilla‘s
autobiography has only recently begun to receive more rigorous scholarly attention. 576
Gonzaga family members and courtiers regarded Ferdinando‘s marriage to
Camilla as a political disaster. Mantua was at war with Savoy over the territory of
Monferrato, and, more than ever, needed allies on the Italian peninsula. These allies
could best be had through marriage, an opportunity which the headstrong Ferdinando had
574
The manuscript copy of Camilla‘s memoir is still preserved in the private archives of the convent of
Corpus Domini in Ferrara. A second manuscript resides in Casale, while a third copy of the narrative is
preserved in the Mantuan archives: ASMn, Documenti Patrii d'Arco, n. 144. All subsequent transcriptions
and translations are from the Mantuan copy. Camilla‘s memoir is most widely known under the title ―Storia
di donna Camilla Faa di Bruno Gonzaga,‖ published by Giorcelli, "Documenti storici del Monferrato," 90-
99. Using Giorcelli‘s transcription, Valeria Finucci has published an English translation: Finucci, "The
Italian Memorialist," 128-37. I rely on my own translations primarily because Finucci has mis-translated
the name of the Palazzo del Te as the ―Tea Palace.‖
575
Paolo Giacometti, Camilla Faà da Casale (Florence: Libreria Filodrammatica, 1850); Carlo D'Arco,
Degli sfortunatissimi amori di Camilla Faa e di Cecilia de Quedenech (Mantua1844); Giovanni Battista
Intra, La bella Ardizzina (Milan: Stabilimento Tipografico della Perseveranza, 1881; reprint, Mantua:
Stabilimento Tipografico Eredi Segna, 1889); Giorcelli, "Documenti storici del Monferrato."; Fernanda
Sorbelli Bonfà, Camilla Gonzage-Faà: storia documentata (Bologna: N. Zanichelli, 1918). Most writers
saw Camilla as a tragic or titillating figure. Giacometti, D‘Arco and Intra freely embellished upon
Camilla‘s original narrative, while Giorcelli and Bonfà attempted a somewhat more factual account.
576
Most notably, Valeria Finucci, "Remembering the 'I': Faa Gonzaga's Storia (1622)," Italian Quarterly
28(1987): 21-32; Graziella Parati, Public History, Private Stories: Italian's Women's Autobiography
(Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1996), 28-43.
203
squandered when he married a woman of lower rank and wealth. 577 To make matters
worse, just after Ferdinando‘s clandestine marriage to Camilla, his brother Vincenzo II
likewise married without familial permission or thought of dynastic succession. Vincenzo
II married his cousin Isabella Gonzaga of Novellara, the aging widow of Ferrante
Gonzaga of Bozzuolo. Ferdinando had opposed the marriage, primarily because at forty
years old, Isabella was almost twenty years Vincenzo‘s senior, and past child-bearing
age.578 The duke‘s apparent inability to control either himself or his brother did nothing
to reassure either local or foreign observers that he could rule the Gonzaga duchy.
The Palazzo del Te was embroiled in Ferdinando‘s pursuit of Camilla as well as
the triumphal entry of Caterina de‘ Medici in 1617. In her memoir, Camilla reports that
Ferdinando first approached her during a ball held at the Palazzo del Te in September of
1615.579 Ferdinando asked her to dance and then confessed that he had organized the ball
in order to speak to Camilla. Ferdinando admitted that he felt a need to marry for the
good of his subjects and his state, and that to that end he had asked his aunt, Margherita
Gonzaga, to choose an appropriate wife. The duchess had suggested one of her ladies,
whom Ferdinando would have married, except for the fact that she had an incurable
illness. Since then, the duke admitted to Camila that ―I have set my thoughts on your
person,‖ and although he very much wanted to marry her, it was proving more difficult
than he had anticipated.580 Camilla writes that she believed that the duke had staged an
elaborate joke at her expense, and she flirtatiously replied that she would not take his
577
Coniglio, I Gonzaga, 411-16.
578
Ibid., 416-17.
579
ASMn, Documenti Patrii d‘Arco, n. 144. Also transcribed by Giancarlo Malacarne, I Gonzaga di
Mantova: Una stirpe per una capitale europea, 6 vols. (Modena: Il Bulino, 2006-2010), 4:351-56. Camilla
provides story of their first meeting at the Palazzo del Te at the very beginning of her narrative.
580
―...io ho posto i miei pensieri nella vostra persona ...‖ ASMn, Documenti Patrii d‘Arco, n. 144, 1.
204
words seriously, ―for thanks to God I have enough brains that I know I do not have such
merits as are necessary to raise me to such high ranks.‖ 581 Ferdinando continued to
attempt to persuade her of his sincerity until the ball ended.
While Camilla‘s reconstruction of events is impossible to untangle from what
may have actually happened, the inclusion of details, such as the location of the ball at
the Palazzo del Te, indicates at least some truth in her narrative. If Ferdinando arranged
the evening for the express purpose of proposing marriage to Camilla, it is likely that his
selection of the Palazzo del Te as the stage for his soliloquy was meaningful. The liminal
position of the palace allowed Ferdinando to pursue Camilla in a place that was adjacent
to the city of Mantua, his seat of power, yet outside the more formal court structures
present in the Palazzo Ducale. The ball almost certainly took place in the Sala dei
Cavalli, a room where male dancers performed vigorous steps which echoed the
movements of the famed Gonzaga steeds.582 Ferdinando could therefore perform his
masculinity for his potential bride through bodily movements that recalled both his own
virility and the virtues of the family which Camilla was being asked to join. Moreover,
the fact that the palace had been used in wedding processions may have led Ferdinando to
associate the building with marriage.
Camilla‘s coy reply to his offer at the Palazzo del Te seems to have convinced
Ferdinando to pursue her more aggressively, yet with different intentions. Perhaps with
the realization that their marriage would be politically disadvantageous, Ferdinando
581
―… per grazie di Dio ho tanto cervello che conosco non aver meriti tali che abbiano ad innalzarmi a
gradi sì alti.‖ Ibid., 2.
582
Carlo D‘Arco states that the dancing took place in the Sala dei Giganti and the Loggia di Davide. Yet,
he provides no evidence for this assertion, and Camilla‘s narrative does not specify which rooms were
used. In contrast to the Sala dei Giganti and Loggia di Davide, the Sala dei Cavalli had been designed with
large gatherings and dancing in mind. D'Arco, Degli sfortunatissimi amori, 14.
205
asked Camilla to become his mistress. Despite inducements and threats, Camilla refused
to enter his bed as anything other than his wife. In a somewhat ironic twist, it was only
Camilla‘s threat to enter a monastery to escape his unchaste advances that persuaded
Ferdinando to marry her. The two were wed by the Bishop of Cesarea with two Gonzaga
courtiers standing as witnesses. Almost as soon as they were married Ferdinando‘s
relations began a campaign to persuade him to leave his new wife. 583
Camilla understood the forces arrayed against her, and chose to leave Mantua
rather than become embroiled in court intrigues. Giacinto was therefore born in Casale,
and despite the entreaties of his family, Ferdinando and many of his courtiers were
present as his baptism. In fact, the birth of Giacinto did much to quell doubts concerning
Ferdinando‘s ability to father children. Vincenzo II wrote to his brother days after
Giacinto‘s birth to express his joy and relief at Ferdinando‘s procreative power, which
had advanced ―the interests of our house.‖584 While Giacinto‘s birth should have secured
Camilla‘s position, Ferdinando must have already been determined to annul their
marriage in favor of a union with Caterina de‘ Medici.
The marriage reforms enacted by the Council of Trent, which required public
announcements before the wedding, and the attendance of witnesses and the parish priest,
were intended to eliminate marriages conducted without familial knowledge or
consent.585 Camilla and Ferdinando had been married by the bishop, not a parish priest,
and despite the fact that Camilla was in possession of a marriage instrument signed by
Ferdinando that declared her his wife, the courtiers present at the wedding were prepared
to testify to certain irregularities. In the end, no such testimony was needed, for Pope Paul
583
ASMn, Documenti Patrii D‘Arco, n. 144, 3-4.
584
―...gli interessi della nostra casa.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 2171, fasc. II, f. 344r.
585
Brundage, Law, Sex, and Christian Society, 563-65.
206
V simply refused to consider the question; there was no need to annul a marriage that had
never happened. 586 Ferdinando entreated Camilla to remarry as well, and offered to find
her a wealthy courtier.587 However, Camilla understood that if she accepted the fact that
they were not legally wed, she would relegate herself to the position of mistress, and
Giacinto would be raised as a bastard.588
Like the 1584 wedding of Vincenzo I Gonzaga and Eleonora de‘ Medici,
Ferdinando‘s 1617 wedding to Caterina was conducted in the midst of sexual and
procreative anxiety: Caterina de‘ Medici was not her husband‘s first wife, and was under
immense pressure to produce a male heir. Yet, unlike Eleonora de‘ Medici, Caterina was
constantly reminded of her husband‘s previous union, for Camilla remained at a convent
in Mantua until Caterina successfully exiled her to Ferrara, and Giacinto was raised at the
Gonzaga court.589 As late as 1621, Caterina still needed to be assured that she was
Ferdinando‘s only true wife.590
While there were clearly doubts regarding Ferdinando‘s marital status, Caterina
de‘ Medici‘s entry into Mantua on 3 March 1617 proclaimed her status as duchess of
Mantua. She was met at Virgiliana by Ferdinando and his brother, Vincenzo II, and
conducted to the Palazzo del Te, where she rested and prepared herself for the entry that
586
Finucci, "The Italian Memorialist," 123.
587
It was common for Renaissance princes to arrange marriages for their mistresses; an extremely
uncommon, if not unheard of, for the mistress to enter a convent. Ferdinando‘s offer was not simply
altruistic, rather, he asked Camilla to accept that she was his mistress and not his wife. See, Ettlinger,
"Visibilis et Invisibilis," 178.
588
Finucci, "The Italian Memorialist," 126.
589
It was not unusual for the children of mistresses to be raised at court. See Ettlinger, "Visibilis et
Invisibilis," 772. However, in refusing to remarry, Camilla had rejected the title of mistress, and Giacinto
therefore existed in an unprecedented and precarious situation: he was both natural and legitimate.
590
ASF, MdP 6107, f. 137r-v. MAP, doc. 6109.
207
was to follow. 591 As she rode into Mantua, Caterina was greeted by a salvo of canon fire.
A triumphal arch had been erected at Sant‘Andrea, and in front of the Palazzo Ducale
there was a castle that erupted with fireworks upon her approach. 592
Although it is unlikely that Caterina knew that the Palazzo del Te had facilitated
the marriage between Ferdinando and Camilla, the images of playful putti, mischievous
satyrs, and mythical lovers in the Camera di Psiche may not have possessed the sense of
promise that they had held for previous Gonzaga brides. Caterina had married into an
embattled dynasty that was short of funds, bereft of a clear successor, and emasculated by
poor judgment and intemperance. The masculine virtues and manly vigor depicted at the
Palazzo del Te were largely absent in her husband. The triumph of romantic love
depicted in the frescoes of Cupid and Psyche may have reminded Caterina that her groom
had only recently declared his love for a woman who was, like Psyche, socially beneath
him. The images of justice and temperance in the Camera degli Imperatori depicted those
very virtues that her husband lacked. Ferdinando was not robust like the horses in the
Sala dei Cavalli, and the centuries of dynasty depicted in the Camera delle Imprese were
on the brink of extinction. In early March, the lush, fecund gardens would have been
barren.
Ferdinando and Caterina remained childless, and the specter of Camilla Faà seems
to have haunted them. Camilla continued to correspond with Ferdinando, and both
591
ASMn, AG b. 394, f. 29r-30r. This document is undated and unsigned. However, I believe that it refers
to the wedding procession of Ferdinando and Caterina for two reasons. First, the document states that the
groom (sua altezza) was accompanied by a cardinal (signor Cardinale). Vincenzo II became Cardinal
Gonzaga after his brother renounced the title to become Duke, and it referred to as Signor Cardinale in
other documents. Second, and most important, the document refers to the bride as ―la Serenissima Signora
Duchessa.‖ Caterina de‘ Medici was the only Gonzaga bride whose entry incorporated that Palazzo del Te
who married a duke, rather than the duke‘s son.
592
Document dated 11 March 1617 from Gioseffo Casato. Location unknown. Transcribed by Portioli, Il
matrimonio, 14-15. The document states that Caterina arrive at the Palazzo del Te ―circa alli 8,‖ but that the
entry did not begin until ―circa alle 21 hore.‖
208
Caterina de‘ Medici and her mother, Christine de Lorraine, received reports about her.
Although Camilla was sent to the convent of Corpus Domini in Ferrara after
Ferdinando‘s second wedding, she did not take final vows until 22 May 1622, when she
became Suor Caterina Camilla. 593 Archival documents indicate that Camilla was not
pleased by the transformation from potential duchess to nun. On 3 March 1622, Camilla
wrote to Ferdinando from Ferrara that she had just been informed by the Medici agent
Ottavio Morbeola that she was expected to renounce her title as Marchesa of Monbaruzzo
and to remain at Corpus Domini for the rest of her life: ―...it seems to me a great thing to
have made me resolve to take the veil against my will, and that then I must live and die in
a place where I do not know even a dog.‖594 One month later, Morbeola reported that
Camilla was faking an illness in order to avoid giving a response to his proposals. 595 In
December of 1622 the Medici envoy Andrea Cioli wrote a letter letter to an unspecified
correspondent in Florence concerning the health and well-being of Caterina de‘ Medici-
Gonzaga. In a coded insert he wrote that Camilla had written to Caterina to beg to be
allowed to move to a convent in Mantua, but the new duchess feared that Camilla‘s
presence might tempt Ferdinando. Caterina had therefore asked Cioli to make certain that
the Medici used their influence with the pope to make certain that Camilla was not
allowed to come to Mantua.596
As with the 1581 wedding of Vincenzo I Gonzaga and Margherita Farnese, the
marriage of Ferdinando and Caterina de‘ Medici failed to enact the fertility and virility
593
ASF, MdP 2952, 23 May 1622. MAP, doc. 7461. Ferdinando informs the Medici that Camilla took the
veil the previous day.
594
―... parendomi gran cosa l'avermi bisognata risolvermi contro mia volia di monacharmi e che poi anco
abia da vivere e morire in loco dove non vi è un cane ch'io conosia.‖ ASMn, AG, b. 206, f. 55r.
595
ASF, Mdp 6113, f. 276r-v. MAP, doc. 18755.
596
ASF, MdP 2954, 10 December 1622. MAP, doc. 8195.
209
promised by the Palazzo del Te. In his attempt to secure the political future of Mantua,
Ferdinando had disinherited his only male heir, and had, in fact, plunged the duchy into
further disarray. Ferdinando‘s problematic marital performance coupled with his lack of
male heirs signified an end to the use of the Palazzo del Te in Gonzaga wedding
processions. After Ferdinando‘s death, the Gonzaga dynasty and their duchy quickly
unraveled, and eventually passed to the Gonzaga-Nevers, a cadet branch of the family
based in France. The Gonzaga-Nevers did not use the palace in wedding festivities, and
Caterina de‘ Medici was therefore the last bride to begin her entry from the Palazzo del
Te. However, Caterina did benefit from the bountiful gardens at the palace. After
Ferdinando‘s death in October of 1626, income from the gardens was used to repay her
dowry.597
Conclusion
The Palazzo del Te had been constructed to display ideal masculinity, yet Giulio
Romano‘s use of dynamic space and polysemous iconography meant that the actions and
experiences of viewers influenced the interpretation of the palace. As the Gonzaga
dynasty‘s circumstances changed, so, too, did their relationship to the palace. The
performance anxieties of Vincenzo I and Ferdinando Gonzaga show that without a
normative masculine identity already firmly established, the images of the palace could
call forth a far more problematic response. Changes to the use of the Palazzo del Te after
these weddings reveal that the performance of gender does, indeed, affect the use and
experience of architectural space.
597
ASF, MdP 2654, 1627. MAP, doc. 5775.
210
The use of the Palazzo del Te in bridal processions reveals that the experience of
the palace was determined by the performances of its viewers. While the frescoes were
originally intended to speak to the virility and robust physicality of the Gonzaga men,
Margherita Farnese, Eleonora de‘ Medici, Margherita di Savoia and Caterina de‘ Medici
came to the palace with sexualized, bridal bodies. When the bodies of their husbands
failed to respond, the multivalent possibilities of the palace allowed the brides to see the
absence. Vincenzo I and Ferdinando Gonzaga could not convincingly perform the roles
which the palace assigned to them, and their failure to adhere to traditional masculine
gender roles exposed the subversive potential of the Palazzo del Te.
211
Conclusion
This study has considered the Palazzo del Te as a performative space which
shaped and responded to ideal masculinities at the Gonzaga court from its first
ceremonial use in 1530 until the end of the Gonzaga dynasty in 1630. The dynamic and
spatially complex architecture and decoration of the palace created an environment which
reflected masculine gender roles and also encouraged visitors to participate in their
construction. The Palazzo del Te was a social space, the product of the social and
gendered interactions of its creator, patrons, and visitors. Masculine virtues such as
sprezzatura, virility, and mastery, both of the courtly and artistic realms, were vital to
Giulio Romano‘s conception of the palace. The banquets, dances, and processions that
took place at the palazzo provided an opportunity for courtiers to enact and reinforce
normative gender behaviors. The dramatic and affective atmosphere of the Palazzo del Te
was constructed to affirm the presence of a rigorous and vital masculinity.
However, the palace does not simply reflect social discourses surrounding
appropriate gendered behaviors and virtues. It was also a building that shaped the
individual‘s experience of masculinity. Viewers are constantly implicated in the action of
the palace. Mythological lovers appear to reach into the space of the Camera di Psiche to
invite the visitor to feast his eyes, the garden façade incites him to enact his own
triumphant procession, and the Sala dei Giganti asks him to transform from a damned
giant to an elevated god. The Palazzo del Te provided a dramatic and interactive locale
for the performance of courtly masculinity.
212
The multivalent imagery and architecture of the palace also meant that it
continued to remain relevant to the construction of Gonzaga masculinity long after the
deaths of its creator and initial patron, and despite the gendered troubles of Vincenzo I
Gonzaga. From its first ceremonial use in 1530 until the Sack of Mantua in 1630, the
Palazzo del Te was used by Gonzaga princes to impress foreign visitors with their
magnificent and vigorous masculinity. While visitors to Mantua engaged in multiple
activities, from hunting to theatrical performances, the Palazzo del Te maintained a
central role, first as a space of physical and visual engagement between the Gonzaga and
their imperial allies, and, later, as the official entry site of triumphal processions.
The focus on the use of the Palazzo del Te rather than on its genesis and
construction demonstrates that the impact of a building does not end with the death of its
patron. In many ways, the Palazzo del Te gained greater importance for the Gonzaga
dynasty in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, something which other
studies on the palace have neglected to examine. The palace did not fall into obscurity
after Federico II‘s death in 1540. Instead, it was more deeply integrated into Gonzaga
ceremonial life by Federico‘s son and grandson. Although the way in which the palace
was used changed over time, its status as a space in which princes and courtiers enacted
masculine archetypes remained constant.
An investigation of the performance of gender at the Palazzo del Te demonstrates
the role of architecture in the formation of Early Modern gender roles. Architecture
directs the eye and the body through space, and shapes the individual‘s experience of his
or her environment. If gender is created on the surface of the body, through repeated
behaviors and movements, architecture‘s ability to incite bodily action is an integral force
213
in the social construction of gender. The Palazzo del Te combined masculine images and
performative spaces to enfold its visitors in a dynamic environment where the play of
absence and presence and the intersection of surface and substance encouraged the
performance masculine archetypes. The palace elicited actions by providing privileged
viewing positions and pre-determined processional routes, and by the creation of
affective images intended to provoke dramatic reactions.
However, the consideration of individual agency is also vital to an understanding
of the palazzo‘s role in the construction of courtly masculinity. Within the larger
discourse of Early Modern gender, this study has focused on the interactions between the
palace and the individuals who created and used it. While the palace was consistently
used to construct a normative image of masculinity, individuals negotiated the Palazzo
del Te and its gendered implications in different ways. Federico II Gonzaga employed the
palace as a suburban pleasure villa where he and his guests could engage in the dual
delights of activity and contemplation. His son, Guglielmo I Gonzaga transformed it in
the official entry site of triumphal processions into Mantua, thereby closely connecting
the Palazzo del Te to notions of princely magnificence and military victory. Vincenzo I
exploited the building‘s long-standing associations with virility and dynastic continuity
by using the building to welcome Gonzaga brides. An analysis of the dual influences of
discourse and agency has shown that the Palazzo del Te influenced individuals and
society at the Gonzaga court. While it was constructed according to masculine ideals
espoused by Baldassarre Castiglione and other courtly writers, the performative spaces of
the palace also encouraged individual expression.
214
For nearly a century the Palazzo del Te was used by the Gonzaga dynasty to
proclaim and enact princely ideals of military triumph, virility, and active virtue.
However, after Ferdinando Gonzaga‘s death in 1626 the palace seems to have languished
under the subsequent reign of Vincenzo II Gonzaga, who was admittedly beset by other
problems. Despite the fact that he had accused his wife of witchcraft, Vincenzo II had
been unable to disentangle himself from his barren marriage to Isabella Gonzaga of
Novellara. 598 Under enormous pressures from debtors, Vincenzo II sold the famed
Gonzaga art collection to the British crown in 1627.599 Childless, impoverished, and in
poor health, Vincenzo II made preparations for the duchy to pass to the francophone
Gonzaga-Nevers branch of the family, and arranged the marriage of Maria Gonzaga, the
only surviving child of Francesco IV Gonzaga and Margherita di Savoia, to Carlo II
Gonzaga-Nevers.600
Vincenzo II died on Christmas day, 1627. The succession of Carlo II to the duchy
of Mantua was contested by the Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand II, who did not
appreciate a French presence in Italy, and Cesare II Gonzaga, Duke of Guastalla, and
Charles Emmanuel, Duke of Savoy, each of whom believed that he should inherit
Mantua.601 The War of Mantuan Succession began in 1628: the disease which spread
through the city decimated the population, while the Sack of Mantua by imperial troops
in 1630 ravaged what was left of the artistic and architectural monuments of the city. 602
598
Coniglio, I Gonzaga, 422-23. The accusations of witchcraft seem to have been masterminded by
Ferdinando Gonzaga, but Vincenzo was evidently desperate to free himself, and therefore supported his
brother. Isabella was tried for witchcraft in Rome and cleared of all charges. The pope refused Vincenzo II
an annulment, though he and Isabella continued to live apart.
599
Alessandro Luzio, La galleria dei Gonzaga venduta all'Inghilterra nel 1627-28 (Milan: L.F. Cogliati,
1913).
600
Mazzoldi, ed. Mantova: La Storia, 3:93-94.
601
Ibid., 3:95-97.
602
Amadei, Cronaca universale della città di Mantova, 3:419-549.
215
The Palazzo del Te became a barracks for imperial troops and fell into a state of
disrepair.603 Some twenty years later Duke Carlo II Gonzaga-Nevers enlarged the gardens
and commissioned furnishings and wall hangings to replace those carried off by the
invading imperial troops.604
However, the damage caused by the Sack of Mantua left a lasting impression of
defeat and ruin, and the palace was no longer used by the Gonzaga dukes to welcome
foreign visitors to their city. Writing almost a century later, the British traveler John
Breval noted that the palace still bore the scars of the Sack, which had left it in a ―naked
and deplorable state.‖605 The occupation and subsequent looting of the Palazzo del Te
emasculated what had once been a space dedicated to the magnificent and courtly
masculinity of the Gonzaga dynasty. The palace could no longer function as a space
wherein princes and courtiers performed masculine identities based upon virility and
victory.
603
Chiara Tellini Perina, "La Camera dei Giganti nella considerazione degli storici e nella memoria dei
visitatori," in I Giganti di Palazzo Te, ed. Carlo Marco Belfanti, Chiara Perina Tellini, and Giuseppe
Basile (Mantua: Sintesi, 1989), 83.
604
Belluzzi, Il Palazzo Te, 1:60-62.
605
John Breval, Remarks on Several Parts of Europe, relating chiefly to their antiquities and history, 2
vols. (London: H. Lintot, 1738), 1:242.
216
Figures
Please note: Only figures that do not represent images from the
Palazzo del Te are labeled by artist and location.
217
218
Figure 2 Gabriele Bertazzolo, Urbis Mantua Descriptio, 1628. Etching. Mantua,
Biblioteca Comunale.
Figure 3 Gabriele Bertazzolo, Urbis Mantua Descriptio, detail showing the Isola del Te.
1628. Etching. Mantua, Biblioteca Comunale.
219
Figure 4 Titian, Federico II Gonzaga, ca. 1530. Oil in panel. Madrid, Museo del Prado.
220
Figure 5 Titian, Giulio Romano, 1536-1538. Oil on canvas. Mantua, Palazzo del Te.
221
Figure 6 Plan of the Palazzo del Te Complex, after Walter Capezzali.
1. Palace 2. Fish ponds 3. Gardens 4. Vestibule to the Secret Garden Apartment
5. Camera di Attilio Regolo 6. Camera Grande 7. Camerino
8. Loggia of the Secret Garden 9. Secret Garden 10. Grotta
11. Chapel and hydraulic works 12. Stables 13. Fruttiere 14. Service buildings
222
Figure 7 Plan of the Palazzo del Te, after Walter Capezzali.
1. Loggia delle Muse 2. Camera del Sole e della Luna 3. Camera delle Imprese
4. Camera di Ovidio 5. Sala dei Cavalli 6. Camera di Psiche 7. Camera dei Venti
8. Camera delle Aquile 9. Loggia di Davide 10. Camera degli Stucchi
11. Camera degli Imperatori 12. Sala dei Giganti 13. Camerino a Crociera
14. Camerino delle Grotesche 15. Camerina di Venere 16. Camera dei Candelabri
17. Camera delle Cariatidi 18. Southern Loggia (undecorated) 19. Camera delle Vittorie
20. Tinello 21. Western Loggia (Current visitors entrance)
223
Figure 8 North and west façades.
Figure 9 North façade.
224
Figure 10 Western loggia.
Figure 11 North courtyard façade.
225
Figure 12 West courtyard façade
Figure 13 West courtyard façade, detail.
226
Figure 14 East façade.
Figure 15 East façade, detail of Loggia di Davide.
227
Figure 16 Ippolito Andreasi, East façade of the Palazzo del Te, 1567. Black and brown
ink with grey wash. Düsseldorf, Kunstmuseum.
Figure 17 Reconstruction of the east façade based upon extant drawings.

From Egon Verheyen, The Palazzo del Te. Images of Love and Politics, 1977.
Figure 18 Giulio Romano, Victories and Barbarian Prisoners, ca. 1530. Pen and brown
ink with brown wash. Paris, Musèe du Louvre, inv. 3503.
228
Figure 19 Camera del Sole e della Luna, detail of ceiling vault, Chariots of the Sun and
the Moon, 1526-1527.
229
Figure 20 Loggia delle Muse, view toward the east, ca. 1528.
230
Figure 22 Ippolito Andreasi, Northern Wall of the Loggia delle Muse, 1567. Black and
brown ink with grey wash. Düsseldorf, Kunstmuseum.
231
Figure 23 Camera delle Imprese, detail of east wall, Mons Olympus device, before 1530.
Figure 24 Sala dei Cavalli, east and west walls, 1526-1527.
232
Figure 25 Sala dei Cavalli, detail of north wall with (left to right) Dario, Hercules and
the Lernean Hydra, and Bust of Cleopatra.
Figure 26 Sala dei Cavalli, detail of south wall, Morel Favorito.
233
Figure 27 Camera di Psiche, ceiling vault, 1526-1528.
234
Figure 28 Camera di Psiche, detail of north wall, Psyche Searches for the Golden Fleece.
Figure 29 Camera di Psiche, detail of ceiling vault, Psyche Sleeping.
235
Figure 30 Camera di Psiche, detail of ceiling vault, Marriage of Cupid and Psyche.
Figure 31 Ippolito Andreasi, Vault of the Camera di Psiche, 1567, with overlay of the
narrative order proposed by Daniel Arasse.
236
Figure 32 Camera di Psiche, south wall.
Figure 33 Camera di Psiche, west wall.
237
Figure 34 Camera di Psiche, north wall.
Figure 35 Camera di Psiche, east wall.
238
Figure 36 Camera di Psiche, detail of north wall, Bacchus and Ariadne.
Figure 37 Camera di Psiche, detail of east wall, Jupiter and Olympia.
239
Figure 38 Camera di Psiche, detail of east wall, Pasiphae and the Bull.
Figure 39 Camera delle Imprese, detail of west wall, Piccola boschaya device.
240
Figure 40 Camera delle Imprese, detail of south wall, Salamander device.
Figure 41 Camera dei Venti, south wall, ca. 1528.

241
Figure 42 Camera dei Venti, ceiling vault.
Figure 43 Camera dei Venti, detail of west wall, Hoof of Taurus, Gladiatorial Combat.
242
Figure 44 Camera delle Aquile, ceiling vault, 1527-1528.
Figure 45 Camera delle Aquile, detail of ceiling vault, Fall of Phaeton.
243
Figure 46 Loggia di Davide, view from the north, 1530.
244
Figure 47 Loggia di Davide, view toward the gardens.
Figure 48 Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, Toilette of Bathsheba.
245
Figure 49 Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, David Spying on Bathsheba.
Figure 50 Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, The Drunkenness of Uriah.
246
Figure 51 Camera degli Stucchi, south and west walls, after 1530.
247
Figure 52 Column of Trajan, dedicated 112 CE. Rome.
248
Figure 53 Camera degli Imperatori, ceiling vault, after 1530.
Figure 54 Camera degli Imperatori, south and west walls, after 1530.
249
Figure 55 Camera degli Imperatori, detail of ceiling vault, Alexander Places the Books of
Homer in a Casket.
Figure 56 Camera degli Imperatori, detail of ceiling vault, Julius Caesar.
250
Figure 57 Sala dei Giganti, north wall, 1531-1535.
Figure 58 Sala dei Giganti, west wall.
251
Figure 59 Sala dei Giganti, south wall.
Figure 60 Sala dei Giganti, east wall.

252
Figure 61 Sala dei Giganti, ceiling vault.
253
Figure 62 Sala dei Giganti, south west corner.
Figure 63 Andrea Mantegna, The Court of Lodovico Gonzaga, 1465-1474. Camera Picta,
Palazzo Ducale, Mantua.
254
Figure 64 Sala dei Giganti, detail of east wall.
Figure 65 Sala dei Giganti, detail of west wall.
255
Figure 66 Sala dei Giganti, view of ceiling vault from southwest corner.
256
Figure 67 Processional Route of Charles V in 1530.
A. Porta della Pradella B. San Giacomo C. Sant‘Andrea D. Duomo
E. Palazzo Ducale
257
Figure 68 Giulio Romano, Winged Victory with a Crown of Laurel, 1530. Pen and brown
ink with brown wash. Vienna, Albertina, inv. 332.
Figure 69 Giulio Romano, Victory Inscribing the Name of Charles V on a Shield, 1530.
Pen and brown ink. Florence, Uffizi, 1492 E.
258
Figure 70 Titian, Sacred and Profane Love, ca. 1514-15. Oil on canvas.
Rome, Borghese Gallery.
Figure 71 Camera di Psiche, detail of west wall.
259
Figure 72 Arch of Constantine, Rome, 312-315 CE.
Figure 73 Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine, Rome, ca. 306-313 CE.
260
Figure 74 Leon Battista Alberti, Sant‘Andrea interior, Mantua, designed ca. 1470.
Figure 75 East façade, detail.
261
Figure 76 Leon Battista Alberti, Sant‘Andrea interior elevation, Mantua,
designed ca. 1470.
Figure 77 Giovanni Alberto Albicante, after Giulio Romano, from Trattato dell’intrar in
Milano di Carlo V, 1541. Engraving.
262
Figure 78 Camera degli Stucchi, detail of south wall.
Figure 79 Giulio Romano, Mounted Soldiers with Lances, ca. 1532. Pen and
brown ink. Paris, Musèe du Louvre, inv. 3555.
Figure 80 Camera degli Stucchi, detail of west wall, Victory Writing on a Shield.
263
Figure 81 Andrea Mantegna, Triumphs of Caesar, canvas VI, ca. 1485.
Hampton Court.
Figure 82 Leone Leoni, reverse, Medal of Charles V, 1547. Silver. Milan,

Castello Sforzesco, Gabinetto Numismatico.
264
Figure 83 Andrea Mantegna, ceiling vault, Camera Picta.
Mantua, Palazzo Ducale, 1464-75.
Figure 84 Andrea Mantegna, Camera Picta. Mantua, Palazzo Ducale, 1464-75.
265
Figure 85 Andrea Mantegna, detail of Ceiling Oculus, Camera Picta.
Mantua, Palazzo Ducale, 1464-75.
Figure 86 Correggio, Vision of St. John on Patmos.

Parma, San Giovanni Evangelista, ca. 1524.
266
Figure 87 Gonzaga axis as proposed by Marina Romani.
a. Palazzo Ducale b. Duomo c. Sant‘Andrea d. San Sebastiano
e. House of Andrea Mantegna f. Palazzo di San Sebastiano g. Palazzo del Te
267
Figure 88 Blaise de Vigenère, Triumphal arch at the Porta della Guardia.
From La somptveuse et magnifique entrée du très chréstien roy Henri III, 1576.
Engraving.
268
Figure 89 A. Ronchi, Map of Mantua and surrounding countryside, detail showing the
Palazzo di Porto, 1629. Mantua, Archivio di Stato, Cimeli, 29.
Figure 90 Camera di Psiche, detail of south wall, Cupid and Psyche with Voluptus.
269
Figure 91 Workshop of Apollonio di Giovanni, Naked Boys with Poppy Pods (verso),
ca. 1450-60. Tempera and gold leaf on panel. Raleigh, North Carolina Museum of Art.
Figure 92 Nicola da Urbino, Plate with Pasiphae, Daedalus and Cupid, ca. 1533.
Hermitage, St. Petersburg.
270
Figure 93 Camera di Ovidio, detail of south wall, Orpheus and Eurydice before Pluto
and Proserpina.
Figure 94 Marcantonio Raimondi, Orpheus and Eurydice, ca. 1507-1508. Engraving.

The Illustrated Bartsch, 14:295.
271
Figure 95 Agnolo Bronzino, Portrait of Cosimo I de’ Medici as Orpheus, ca. 1537-1539.
Oil on panel. Philadelphia, Philadelphia Museum of Art.
272
Figure 96 Nicoletto da Modena, Orpheus, 1500-1510.
Engraving. London, British Museum.
Figure 97 Anonymous Italian Artist, detail, Orpheus lamenting the loss of Eurydice,
1549. Woodcut. London, Warburg Institute Library.
273
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Maria F. Maurer
Home: 703 W. 6th Street, Apt. 2, Bloomington, IN 47404
Phone: (812) 272-5597
E-mail: mfmaurer@indiana.edu
Education
Ph.D. in the History of Art, Indiana University
Advanced to Candidacy
Dissertation: The Palazzo del Te and the Spaces of Masculinity in Early Modern Italy
Adviser: Giles Knox
Major Field: Italian Renaissance and Baroque
Minor Field: Islamic Art and Architecture
M.A. in the History of Art, University of Louisville, May, 2006

Thesis: Virtue and Chastity in Action: Women’s Patronage Networks in the Renaissance Courts
of Northern Italy
B.S., Saint Louis University (Summa cum Laude), May 2003
Awards and Fellowships

Anna L. Holmquist Fellowship, 2011-2012 Academic Year
Evan Lily Memorial Fellowship, Summer 2011
Friends of Art Conference Travel Grant, Spring 2011
Samuel H. Kress Dissertation Fellowship of the Society of Architectural Historians, 2009-2010

Academic Year
Foreign Language and Area Studies Fellowship (FLAS) to study Italian language and culture at
the Università per Stranieri di Perugia, Summer 2008
Friends of Art Travel Fellowship, Summer 2008
Aegis Award for Excellence, University of Louisville, Cross-Cultural Encounters Graduate

Symposium, February 2007
Recruitment Fellowship, Indiana University, Awarded 2006
Allen R. Hite Assistantship, University of Louisville, 2005-2006
Published Work
“Identity East and West: The Patronage of Sultan Mehmed II.” Parnassus: The University
of Louisville Graduate Art History Journal (Spring 2008): 29-34.
1
Conferences and Lectures
“A Terrifying Pleasure: The Sala dei Giganti at the Palazzo del Te.” The Art Institute of
Chicago, Graduate Student Conference, April 2011.
“Engendering a Dynasty: Gonzaga Marriage Ceremonies and the Palazzo del Te.” Renaissance
Society of America Conference, Montreal, March 2011.
“The Art of Love in the Renaissance.” Collins Living-Learning Center, Indiana University,
November 2010.
“Love and Jealousy at the Gonzaga Court: The Rivalry of Isabella d’Este and Isabella
Boschetti.” Renaissance Society of America Conference, Venice, Italy, April 2010.
“Female Portraiture and Political Dispute: The Case of Paola Gonzaga and Sylvia Sanvitale.”
Southeastern College Art Conference, Charleston, WV, October 2007.
“Identity East and West: The Patronage of Sultan Mehmed II,” Cross-Cultural Encounters
Graduate Symposium, University of Louisville, February 2007.
“Virtue and Chastity in Action: Female Patronage Networks in the Renaissance Courts of
Northern Italy,” Midwest Art History Association Conference, Dallas, March 2006.
Professional Experience
Indiana University, Bloomington, IN
Associate Instructor, Fall 2010-Spring 2011
Designed and taught a course on Gender and Sexuality in Renaissance Art.
Associate Instructor, Summer 2010

Designed and taught a survey course on Renaissance through Modern Art.
Associate Instructor, Summer 2009

Designed and taught a course on Gender and Sexuality in Renaissance and Baroque Art.

Co-designed and taught Art Appreciation for non-majors.

Led discussion sections for a survey course on Renaissance through Modern Art.
University of Louisville, Louisville, KY

Graduate Instructor, Summer 2005
Taught a survey course on Ancient through Medieval Art.
Professional Service
Student Relations Committee, Friends of Art, Indiana University, 2011-2012
Brown Bag Lecture Coordinator, Art History Association, Indiana University, 2009-2010.
Co-President, Art History Association, Indiana University, 2007-2008.
Secretary/Treasurer, Association of Graduate Students, University of Louisville, 2006.
Languages
Italian: Reading, writing and speaking proficiency
French, German, and Spanish: reading proficiency

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THE PALAZZO DEL TE AND THE SPACES OF MASCULINITY

IN EARLY MODERN ITALY

Submitted to the faculty of the University Graduate School

in partial fulfillment of the requirements

for the degree

in the Department of the History of Art

requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Defended on February 3, 2012.

assistance on navigating archives and architecture.

Dissertation Fellowship of the Society of Architectural Historians, as well as generous

dissertation was funded by the Anna L. Holmquist Memorial Fellowship. In addition, I

has helped me decipher many illegible documents. Thanks also to members of my

dissertation writing group for their support and assistance.

enthusiasm, and thoughtfulness have provided constant moral support throughout my

THE PALAZZO DEL TE AND THE SPACES OF MASCULINITY

IN EARLY MODERN ITALY

approach to architectural proportion and structural integrity, described by

contemporaneous sources as disorienting and even frightening, was nevertheless thought

to enhance Federico II Gonzaga’s princely authority. Through court festivities and

Renaissance gender roles.

Chapter 1: Setting the Stage, 18

Chapter 2: Enter the Players, 68

Chapter 3: Playing the Part, 100

Chapter 4: A Staged Revival, 134

Chapter 5: Performance Anxiety, 154

2. Gabriele Bertazzolo, Urbis Mantua Descriptio, 1628. Etching. Mantua, Biblioteca

Etching. Mantua, Biblioteca Comunale.

6. Plan of the Palazzo del Te Complex, after Walter Capezzali.

7. Plan of the Palazzo del Te, after Walter Capezzali.

8. North and west façades.

10. Western loggia.

11. North courtyard façade.

12. West courtyard façade.

13. West courtyard façade, detail.

14. East façade.

15. East façade, detail of Loggia di Davide.

grey wash. Düsseldorf, Kunstmuseum.

The Palazzo del Te. Images of Love and Politics, 1977.

with brown wash. Paris, Musèe du Louvre, inv. 3503.

ink with grey wash. Düsseldorf, Kunstmuseum.

24. Sala dei Cavalli, east and west walls, 1526-1527.

and Bust of Cleopatra.

26. Sala dei Cavalli, detail of south wall, Morel Favorito.

27. Camera di Psiche, ceiling vault, 1526-1528.

29. Camera di Psiche, detail of ceiling vault, Psyche Sleeping.

order proposed by Daniel Arasse.

32. Camera di Psiche, south wall.

33. Camera di Psiche, west wall.

34. Camera di Psiche, north wall.

35. Camera di Psiche, east wall.

37. Camera di Psiche, detail of east wall, Jupiter and Olympia.

40. Camera delle Imprese, detail of south wall, Salamander device.

41. Camera dei Venti, south wall, ca. 1528.

42. Camera dei Venti, ceiling vault.

44. Camera delle Aquile, ceiling vault, 1527-1528.

45. Camera delle Aquile, detail of ceiling vault, Fall of Phaeton.

46. Loggia di Davide, view from the north, 1530.

47. Loggia di Davide, view toward the gardens.

48. Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, Toilette of Bathsheba.

49. Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, David Spying on Bathsheba.

50. Loggia di Davide, detail of ceiling vault, The Drunkenness of Uriah.

52. Column of Trajan, dedicated 112 CE. Rome.

53. Camera degli Imperatori, ceiling vault, after 1530.