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donat e l l o

☞ Books in the renaissance lives series explore and illustrate the


life histories and achievements of significant artists, intellectuals
and scientists in the early modern world. They delve into literature,
philosophy, the history of art, science and natural history and cover
narratives of exploration, statecraft and technology.

Series Editor: François Quiviger

Already published
Blaise Pascal: Miracles and Reason  Mary Ann Caws
Caravaggio and the Creation of Modernity  Troy Thomas
Donatello and the Dawn of Renaissance Art  A. Victor Coonin
Hieronymus Bosch: Visions and Nightmares  Nils Büttner
Isaac Newton and Natural Philosophy  Niccolò Guicciardini
John Evelyn: A Life of Domesticity  John Dixon Hunt
Leonardo da Vinci: Self, Art and Nature  François Quiviger
Michelangelo and the Viewer in His Time  Bernadine Barnes
Paracelsus: An Alchemical Life  Bruce T. Moran
Petrarch: Everywhere a Wanderer  Christopher S. Celenza
Pieter Bruegel and the Idea of Human Nature  Elizabeth Alice Honig
Raphael and the Antique  Claudia La Malfa
Rembrandt’s Holland  Larry Silver
Titian’s Touch: Art, Magic and Philosophy  Maria L. Loh
DONATELLO
and the Dawn of
Renaissance Art

a . v ic tor c oonin

R E A K T ION B O OK S
To Anna

Published by Reaktion Books Ltd


Unit 32, Waterside
44–48 Wharf Road
London n1 7ux, uk
www.reaktionbooks.co.uk

First published 2019


Copyright © A. Victor Coonin 2019
All rights reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval


system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior
permission of the publishers

Printed and bound in China

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

isbn 978 1 78914 130 6

cover: Donatello, David, c. 1434–40, bronze.


Photo: akgimages/Rabatti & Domingie.
contents

Introduction: A Note to Readers 7


1 Artistic Formation 9
2 The Business of Art 57
3 Adorning the City of Florence 111
4 The Paduan Journey 169
5 Homecoming 207
chronology 247
References 251
select Bibliography 274
Acknowledgements 277
Photo Acknowledgements 278
Index 280
Introduction:
A Note to Readers

T
his book is about the life of Donatello, both the
man and his art. Though the literature on Dona­
tello is vast, it resides mainly in specialized venues
and there are few modern biographical studies. In fact, this
is the first original monograph on the sculptor written in the
English language in a quarter of a century. The absence of
books devoted solely to him is not due to any lack of interest
in Donatello. On the contrary, the proliferation of museum
exhibitions and their catalogues invoking his name, of which
there have been more than a dozen during this same time,
only proves that Donatello has considerable draw in both
the scholarly community and with the general public. A new
evaluation of his life and career as a whole is thus timely and
necessary.
With this book I hope to have synthesized and clarified
the main issues regarding Donatello for readers of all levels,
and I have tried to reach my conclusions through careful evalu­
ation of the available evidence. I have kept notes to a minimum
by giving preference to essential and recent sources while
giving credit where it is due. Since the intended audience of
this book is primarily English-speaking, I have emphasized
these sources as well.

1 Francesco and Raffaello Petrini, Veduta della Catena (Chain Map), 1887,
detail of Florence in the 1470s as seen from the southwest, watercolour
after an engraving by Francesco Rosselli.
donatello 8

In the belief that works of art do not make the person but
that the creative person makes works of art, I have chosen to
discuss Donatello’s most significant accomplishments rather
than attempt a catalogue raisonné. Omissions might be most
noticeable in the case of smaller objects, especially the innu­
merable reliefs in various media featuring the Madonna and
Child. I have intentionally included only examples that best
help the reader to understand Donatello’s achievement.
Treating every Donatello attribution would entail a different
type of book and I apologize for those favourites that may be
missing. Omission does not necessarily imply rejection.
Recent years have seen many new attributions to Dona­tello,
ranging from the probable to the impossible. Some of these
objects are works hitherto unknown. Some are familiar works
whose attributions continually come up for re-evaluation.
Others are objects newly conserved or simply ready to be
considered in a new context. Scholarly consensus generally
forms slowly, except in extraordinary circumstances, and the
list of objects to evaluate will only grow with each generation.
Most importantly, I hope to have made the life and con­
tributions of Donatello more real, more human, and more
cogent to our understanding of both the past and present.
I see him as an intensely creative individual in all aspects of
his life and art. His artistic achievement was profound, and
for this to be true not all his works have to be masterpieces,
nor do they all have to be groundbreaking. Instead, when we
evaluate the whole we see a singular contributor to one of the
most extraordinary periods of Western culture, which we call
the Renaissance. Donatello was not just a man of his times
but one who helped create the nature of the times he lived in.
one

Artistic Formation

T
he most important sculptor of the early Renais­
sance is also its most eccentric. Despite copious
anecdotes about his life and hundreds of docu­
ments concerning his works, Donatello the man remains
enigmatic and the course of his art hardly predictable. That
may be partially due to design – Donatello conducted himself
as he saw fit, thus constantly confounding and frustrating the
expectations of friends, patrons and anyone else with whom
he had contact. No one ever doubted his talent, which gave
him a certain licence to live outside the norm. In this way, there
is a modern sensibility to his character that seems centuries
ahead of his time and is especially appealing today.

eccentricities and innovations


Many of the most engaging stories about Donatello concern
his artistic integrity and disdain for mundane affairs that might
otherwise interfere with it. The Renaissance artists Pomponio
Gaurico and Giorgio Vasari each narrate that in his studio
Donatello kept a bucket filled with money that hung by a
cord from the ceiling.1 If friends or assistants had need they
could simply take what they wanted from the bucket. Another
donatello 10

anecdote, found in a book of witticisms compiled in the 1470s,


recounts that when a beggar asked Donatello for alms ‘for the
love of God’ the sculptor gave him money with the words, ‘not
for the love of God but because you have need’.2 Perhaps due
in part to situations like these, despite his prolific work as a
sculptor, Donatello was never a wealthy man and reportedly
died with little to his name.
He was a man of his word and disliked duplicity. Giorgio
Vasari (1511–1574), who was both an artist and the great
biographer of Italian artists, tells the story of a Genoese
merchant who commissioned a bronze portrait bust from
Donatello. The sculptor finished it quickly, and when the
patron tried to renegotiate the price of the work Donatello
threw it from the top of the Medici palace, saying the mer­
chant could not bargain for a bronze the way he bargained for
beans. Dona­tello refused to recast the work even for twice
the price. Another story recorded in the 1470s demonstrates
Donatello’s contempt for presumption, even from the most
powerful, including the formidable Giovanni Vitelleschi, a
fearsome soldier for the Church who became archbishop of
Florence and then cardinal, and bore the honorific title of
patriarch of Alexandria:

The Patriarch sent out a call for Donatello several


times, and after many urgings he sent back this answer:
‘Tell the Patriarch I don’t want to go to him, and that I
am just as much the Patriarch in my art as he is in his.’3

This was a risky response for the artist, but he seems to have
incurred no adverse consequences.
11 Artistic Formation

Donatello was confident, but never put on false airs.


According to the fifteenth-century bookseller and biog­
rapher Vespasiano da Bisticci, when Cosimo de’ Medici gave
Donatello a new set of red robes on the occasion of a festival,
the artist wore them only once or twice and then sent them
back because they made him seem ‘out of place’.4 In other
words, they made Donatello feel awkward in a pretentious
way, and he was anything but pretentious. In a letter written
by Matteo degli Organi, an organ maker from Padua then
living in Florence, the craftsman condescendingly describes
Donatello to officials back home as ‘the kind of man for whom
enough is as good as a feast, and he is content with anything’.5
Donatello would have taken that as a compliment.
Donatello may have been eccentric but he was genuinely
so and brilliant in accomplishment, and therefore his behav­
iour was generally indulged. Donatello felt compassion for
the needy, despised laziness and rewarded hard work. On his
deathbed relatives gathered, less interested in his health than
in the inheritance of a farm Donatello owned near Prato that
produced a small income. To thwart their greedy ambitions
and teach them a lesson, Donatello declared that he would
give the farm to the one person who actually deserved it – the
peasant who had worked the land all these years. And this he
did. Though surely a mixture of the truthful and the apocry­
phal, the various stories consistently describe a man of high
character and conviction, even if he was, at times, impetuous
and spiteful.
As for his likeness, the only widely accepted portrait of
Donatello is a detail from a panel in the Louvre once attrib­
uted to his contemporary Paolo Uccello (1397–1475), but now
donatello 12

generally thought to have been executed later (illus. 2). In the


later sixteenth century the panel was owned by the architect
Giuliano da Sangallo and described by Giorgio Vasari, so it
was a well-known image.6 In the picture Donatello appears in
the centre of five brilliant men of the arts. Inscriptions added
to the panel, probably in the sixteenth century, identify the
figures from left to right as Giotto, Uccello, Donatello, the
architect Antonio Manetti and Filippo Brunelleschi. Though
the painting’s attribution and its inscriptions might be ques­
tioned, there is little reason to doubt the identification of
Donatello as the central figure and an exemplar of artistic
achievement up to that time.
While it would be dangerous to read too much into this
picture, Donatello’s placement in the middle must be recog­
nized. Donatello alone looks directly towards the viewer, with
a stern and confident expression. He appears as the group’s
lynchpin, and indeed he is a key figure in the artistic revolu­
tion that flourished in fifteenth-century Florence.
Donatello was intimately connected with virtually all of the
transformative artists of the early fifteenth century. Early on,
he worked for Lorenzo Ghiberti, partnered with Michelozzo,
formed intimate friendships with Brunelleschi, Masaccio
and Uccello, and worked closely with his sculptor colleagues,
including Nanni di Banco and Luca della Robbia. He was
the mentor for a talented younger generation of artists that
included Antonio Rossellino, Desiderio da Settignano and
Bertoldo, the future teacher of Michelangelo. Contemporaries
certainly saw Donatello as uniquely significant to the devel­
opment of art. When the architect and theorist Leon Battista
Alberti wrote his treatise On Painting in 1435–6, he singled
13 Artistic Formation

out for genius Brunelleschi and ‘our close friend Donatello’,


before adding Ghiberti, Luca della Robbia and Masaccio.
As Alberti famously stated, Brunelleschi’s dome for Flo­r­
ence Cathedral was so vast an achievement that its shadow
covered all the people of Tuscany. Acknowledging that singu­­­
lar work, Donatello actually did more to adorn Florence, both
inside and out, than any other artist still to this day. During
the Renaissance his sculptures at one time or another graced
the cathedral, its bell tower and baptistery, the main market,
the civic palace (Palazzo Vecchio), the principal city square
(Piazza della Signoria), the important grain market (Orsan­
michele), various individual churches (including San Lorenzo
and Santa Croce) and many private palaces, including those
of the Medici and Martelli families. No other artist can boast
such a prolific output in Florence – not Leonardo da Vinci,
Botti­celli, Michel­angelo or Raphael. In addition, Donatello pro­
duced significant works for Venice, Padua and Siena, while many
other cities vied for his services, including patrons from Pisa,
Naples, Rome, Ferrara and Mantua.7 Pomponio Gaurico, in
his book De sculptura (On Sculpture), published in 1504 in Flor­
ence though mostly written in Padua, says that there were more
works by Donatello than by all his notable contemporaries
combined, and it truly must have seemed that way.8
Donatello was as innovative as he was prolific. During
his career he produced the first sculpture considered a fully
Renais­­sance work of art. He invented illusionistic sculptural
relief using a novel technique of rilievo schiacciato (crushed
relief ), which extended the possibilities of sculpture as a
three-dimensional medium. He was the first artist to incor­
porate perspective into sculpture, and he interpreted art to
donatello 14

reveal significant human insights in ways that have rarely been


equalled. He revived the equestrian monument. He helped
develop the form of the humanist tomb that became a stand­
ard format of funerary commemoration even into the present.
Through his art he acknowledged difficult issues of human
sexuality, violence, spirituality and, of course, beauty. Dona­
tello worked in various media, some of which challenge the
restrictive terminology of sculpture. He used wood, stucco, clay,
bronze and marble, often incorporating painting, gilding and
other coloration, and he also designed stained glass and archi­
tecture. He always took into account space, light and viewpoint
as well as the theatricality of presentation.
This summary of achievement may seem exaggerated, yet
arguably it is modest when understood in context because we
now see Donatello’s accomplishments through the filter of
Michelangelo, Bernini, Canova, Rodin, Brancusi and other
artistic progeny. The Florentine humanist Alamanno Rinuccini

2 Anonymous, Five Florentine Men, 15th or early 16th century, panel.


15 Artistic Formation

wrote in 1473 that Donatello was effectively the only sculptor


who mattered:

As to sculptors, though I might mention many who


would be rated outstanding if they had happened to be
born a little before our time, the one Donatello sur­
passed all the rest to such an extent that he is almost
the only one to count in that field.9

Even Vasari had to tone down his introduction to his Life


of Donatello because it had originally been too hyperbolic.10
Though omitted in the 1568 version, in 1550 Vasari had com­
pared Donatello to a force of nature, as follows:

Hence, in order to better fulfil her will and her commit­


ment, [Nature] filled Donato from birth with mar­vellous
qualities; and in a person almost like herself, she sent
donatello 16

him down here amongst mortals, full of kindness,


judgement and love.11

Indeed, endowing Donatello with such divine powers


proved a little too much even for the great Renaissance biog­
rapher, but the impulse is well understood when one considers
how much of what was artistically new in the Renaissance can
be traced back to Donatello.
Rinuccini and Vasari might be accused of regional bias,
since one was a Florentine aristocrat and the other was born
in Arezzo but worked mostly in Florence. Similar praise, how­
ever, was accorded Donatello in 1524 in a letter from Pietro
Summonte, a humanist from Naples, to Marcantonio Michiel,
a Venetian nobleman, both of whom had considerable interest
in art:

There was in Florence at the time of our fathers Dona­­


tello, a rare man and most simple in every other thing
except in sculpture, in which many judge him still
never to have been surpassed.12

This was heavy praise considering their contemporaries


included Jacopo Sansovino, Francesco Rustici and Michel­­
angelo.
Donatello’s legacy grew ever more profound through sub­
sequent generations of artists. Michelangelo’s David does not
come into being without Donatello’s St Mark. The sensuous­
ness of Bernini and his ability to carve marble to look like
other substances both owe a debt to works such as Donatello’s
bronze David and the suggestive carving introduced through
17 Artistic Formation

rilievo schiacciato, where Donatello proved that the marble surface


could imply something other than stone. Both Raphael and his
master, Perugino, made drawings after Donatello’s sculptures
that ultimately inspired their paintings.13 Canova’s Neoclas­
sicism is filtered through Donatello’s Classicism and the
equestrian monuments that inhabit countless public squares
all bear a debt to Roman statuary as revived through Dona­
tello. The list could easily continue. Change does not occur
without a catalyst, and Donatello, together with his closest
colleagues, created sparks that altered the course of art.
When Donatello died he was buried in the crypt of San
Lorenzo, the church repository of many of his most dar­
ing works, and near the body of his most important patron,
Cosimo de’ Medici. It was an extraordinary gesture for an
artist to be accorded such privilege, but nothing in the life
of Donatello was ordinary.

r ekindling antiquitY
Our first extant document for Donatello finds him in January
1401 just outside Florence in the city of Pistoia, and in trou­
ble with the law, being accused of battery. Donatello, then
about fifteen years old, hit Anichino di Piero, a German,
with a stick. The strike drew blood. It is the first of copious
evidence of a man of volatile temperament, easily stirred to
outbursts – but just as easily assuaged.
He may have inherited his temper from his father, who
lived under a death sentence for a time for having killed a polit­
ical rival with a blow to the head.14 Donatello’s father, Niccolò
di Betto Bardi, was technically a wool stretcher (tiratore di lana),
donatello 18

an elevated position in the wool industry.15 Despite speculation,


Donatello was probably not closely related to the famous Bardi
banking family. He was thus heir to no great fortune or artistic
heritage, but he had a respectable family lineage and was part
of a growing merchant class of increasing social prominence.
His full name was Donato di Niccolò di Betto Bardi, though
he was commonly known by the diminutive Donatello. His
approximate birth date is derived from the artist’s statements
recorded in multiple tax declarations (catasti), but these are
notoriously inconsistent documents and his age is probably
of more importance to us than it was to him. In his most
complete tax declaration, made in July 1427, Donatello claims
to be 41 years old, putting his birth date around 1386, which is
generally accepted.16 He was raised in Florence and probably
received a traditional education, yet how Donatello came to
be an artist is unclear.
Donatello’s altercation with Anichino occurred at the tail
end of a stay in Pistoia, raising the question of what he was
doing there in the first place. The key to this and other epi­
sodes in his early development is his friendship with Filippo
Brunelleschi. Brunelleschi achieved his greatest fame as an
architect and as the codifier of single-point perspective, but
his beginnings as an artist were modest. Brunelleschi was a
bit older than Donatello, having been born in 1377. A mem­
ber since 1398 of the silk merchants’ guild (Arte di Por Santa
Maria, better known as the Arte della Seta), he matriculated as
a goldsmith in July 1404. In between, around 1399–1400,
Brunelleschi was engaged on the silver altar of St James in
Pistoia Cathedral. He would have been aged about 24 years
at the time of Donatello’s misdeed.
19 Artistic Formation

In the small city of Pistoia, about 40 km (25 mi.) north­


west of Florence, we thus have our first chapter in one of
the great collaborations in the history of art: Donatello and
Brunel­leschi. Their initial artistic interaction was probably
in the context of goldsmith work. It was not a collaboration in
the traditional sense but a melding of minds, each stimulat­ing
the other and feeding off respective moments of inspiration.
Vasari describes the pair as practically inseparable and says
of this moment that ‘the two conceived such great love for
each other, by reason of the talents of each, that one appeared
unable to live without the other.’17 Vasari characterizes it as
an intellectual love story and adds later that their relationship
was never equalled in kind:

nor could [Brunelleschi] ever find an intellect more


to his satisfaction than that of Donato, with whom
he was ever holding familiar discourse, and they took
pleasure in one another and would confer together
over the difficulties of their vocation.18

Brunelleschi’s attributed work in Pistoia is technically gold­


smithery, although it differs little from smaller scale sculpture.
The figures on the great altar generally attributed to him
include prophets that boldly emerge from their background
space, displaying heightened illusionism and dramatic gestures.
Experimentation with perspective is nascent as the artist
implies an extension of space both behind and in front of the
figures, and the physical types and poses reflect direct obser­
vation of nature. All these elements would be at the heart
of Donatello’s subsequent art. Brunelleschi and Donatello
donatello 20

returned to Florence shortly after the Anichino incident, and


their re-entry into the city could not have come at a more
auspicious moment.
In most art historical narratives the year 1401 introduces
the formal beginnings of a revolution in art, the spark of
the so-called Renaissance. It begins in Florence, where the
international merchants’ guild (Arte di Calimala) sponsored a
competition for a new set of bronze doors for the Baptistery,
the second of three sets to replace wooden doors with bronze
ones. The finalists were Brunelleschi and Ghiberti.
The two final competition panels survive. Both depict the
Old Testament episode of the Sacrifice of Isaac, and between
the two scenes we find all the seeds that blossom into the
Renaissance. Some still lie dormant, but the cues of trans­
formation are incipient rather than absent. ‘Renaissance’
literally refers to a rebirth, but a rebirth of what? That answer,
often simplified as a rebirth of classical antiquity, more co­
gently implies a rational study of the natural world and its
ultimate perfection through depiction in art. Classical
sources, in many forms, provided inspiration. During the
early Renais­sance the more abstract and artificial styles en­
countered in the Middle Ages slowly gave way to styles based
more on logical reasoning and empirical understanding
through the senses. Art in turn more closely mimicked phys­
ical reality. An essential ingredient was an insistence on a
relationship between art and the human observer. This meant
a difficult transition involving modifying or abandoning
certain medieval motifs, patterns, assumptions, traditions
and expectations. The competition reliefs in 1401 show this
process well under way.
21 Artistic Formation

Rather than compare and contrast the competition reliefs


for their own sake, we can look at them through the mind­
set of Donatello for what they offered in terms of artistic
challenges and new arenas for experiment. In Brunelleschi’s
figure of Isaac (illus. 3) Donatello saw the evidence of a
body based on natural observation, and in Ghiberti’s Isaac
(illus. 4) the complementary study of classical statuary and
its modes of idealization. Brunelleschi’s Abraham terrify­
ingly commences to plunge the knife into his son’s throat,
evoking raw human drama and emotion. Abraham’s body,
however, still does not convince in its shifting of weight, just
as Ghiberti’s Abraham sways artificially like many a Gothic
sculpture but with its own internal grace and elegance.
References to classical sculpture appear in both designs, with
the most obvious being Brunelleschi’s servant pulling a thorn
from his foot, clearly fashioned after an antique prototype
called the Spinario.
Compositionally, Donatello observed two options, with
Brunelleschi’s overall design clinging to the medieval quat­
refoil pattern set over a grid and Ghiberti abandoning that
approach to investigate more emphatically the illusion of
spatial recession in sculptural relief. The two artists’ respec­
tive approaches to working in bronze also offered divergent
concepts of technique. Brunelleschi continued to work in the
idiom of a goldsmith by the application of individual pieces
melded together into a whole, while Ghiberti created more
like a sculptor in the sense of modelling planes of relief for a
greater integration of the figures and their surroundings. To
any progressive young artist, the rush of artistic ideas and pos­
sibilities must have seemed volcanic in their sudden eruption.
donatello 22

No direct evidence exists that Donatello helped his friend


Brunelleschi, but he would have been involved in the thea­
tre of the competition and was an interested student of the
results. He absorbed lessons from both men and each left a
lasting impression. With Brunelleschi he continued to culti­
vate a rewarding friendship, and a few years later he would
work briefly for Ghiberti as a top assistant.
There are conflicting accounts of the competition and
what later transpired. Ghiberti claimed to have won outright,

3 Brunelleschi, Sacrifice of Isaac, 1401–3, gilt bronze.


23 Artistic Formation

while Brunelleschi’s partisans argued it was an effective tie,


with the two participants being offered a chance to work
together on a collaborative enterprise. The latter is more likely.
These guild patrons were businessmen, after all, with a long
history of hedging bets. In any event, Brunelleschi and
Ghiberti were men of conflicting personalities, unable ever to
get along over the many decades to come. In this early instance,
whatever the directive, rather than collaborate, Brunelleschi
simply walked away.

4 Ghiberti, Sacrifice of Isaac, 1401–3, gilt bronze.


donatello 24

The immediate aftermath of the Baptistery competition


proved fundamental to the history of art. Ghiberti went on
to produce the first of two sets of doors he created for the
Florence Baptistery (a pre-existing set already graced the
south entrance). These north doors proved a training ground
for many young artists in Florence. His final set, for the Baptis­­
tery’s east side, is so beautiful it has been immortalized as the
‘Gates of Paradise’.19
Brunelleschi, meanwhile, set off on a different type of
artistic adventure. He went to Rome. In that city he im­
mersed himself in the study of ancient art, and for at least part
of that sojourn he was accompanied by Donatello. Donatello
likely made his initial trip to Rome shortly after the Bap­
tist­ery competition ended in 1402 and is not documented
again until between 1404 and 1407, when he is listed as work­
ing for Ghiberti on the north Baptistery doors in Florence.
Neither artist stayed continuously in Rome without periodic
visits to Florence and other cities, but while Brunelleschi
made Rome a second home, Donatello remained strictly a
visitor.
Contemporary sources agree that the Rome experience
proved of fundamental importance for the development
of both artists. According to the mathematician Antonio
Manetti, Brunelleschi’s friend and biographer, Brunelleschi
initially aimed to study sculpture but he quickly became
obsessed with architecture and classical engineering.20 Vasari,
as usual, echoes prior sources when he summarizes:

Filippo and Donato, who were together, resolved to


depart from Florence in company and to live for some
25 Artistic Formation

years in Rome, to the end that Filippo might study


architecture and Donato sculpture.21

Brunelleschi never completely gave up sculpture but was


to make a much greater mark by designing buildings, through
his innovative engineering projects, and by developing the
science of perspective. Donatello remained primarily engaged
with sculpture, though not without interest and some expertise
in all that classical study had to offer.
They must have made a colourful pair, each idiosyncratic
in his own way, not much caring what others thought, and
both intensely interested in art. They were budding creative
geniuses although as yet unaccomplished and unproven, and
essentially unknown in Rome. They had limited resources
but also no obligations. They just needed to make ends meet
and explore the Eternal City. Manetti says they cared not
about what they ate, what they wore or where they lived. They
were there to explore, measure, excavate and experiment.
They supported themselves doing goldsmithing work, which
offered flexibility, income when needed and, for Donatello,
important training in craft.
Vasari says that to the uninformed they looked like treas­
ure hunters. The pair were indeed treasure seekers – but
for a different fortune than one might suppose. They hoped
to find the secrets of art as transmitted through the often
scarred and buried remains of classical objects. They sought
systems of proportion in buildings, the orderly organization
of design elements, naturalistic poses in statuary and novel
techniques in all the arts. In statuary they focused on the ideal­
ization of the human form. They returned to Florence with
donatello 26

measurements, drawings, and memories of place and context


as invaluable artistic riches that they would soon apply to a
new art. The infusion of Roman sources proved critical to the
formation of this budding Renaissance aesthetic.

fashioning artistic identitY


Upon return from his first experiences in Rome, Donatello
spent some time with Ghiberti, Brunelleschi’s old rival. He
was one of several assistants named as working for Ghiberti
on aspects of the north Baptistery doors between 1404 and
1407.22 Though his role remains unclear, Donatello was one of
the higher-salaried employees, suggesting more than menial
contributions. Furthermore, he received only partial payment,
indicating his employment there was brief.
What did Donatello take from his time with Ghiberti?
Ghiberti worked in various media but at the time he was
becoming the foremost Florentine expert in bronze, the
medium of the north doors. Designing for bronze implied
facility with pliable media necessary for modelling: clay, wax,
plaster and other materials. Ghiberti also made Madonna
and Child sculptures and other furnishings in various media
for homes and churches. Ghiberti’s workshop was a large
operation, with the opportunity to gain exposure to diverse
techniques.
The experience with Ghiberti also informed Donatello
about the efficient running of a large sculpture studio. Dona­
tello must have quickly realized he was temperamentally
averse to this type of enterprise, and he thereafter always
sought different relationships with his colleagues. Donatello
27 Artistic Formation

was a better collaborator than an employer; he would rather


have partners and use subcontractors than operate a sculptural
conglomerate like Ghiberti.
Donatello subsequently transitioned out of the Ghiberti
workshop and into a nexus of sculptors working under the
aegis of Florence Cathedral. This workshop, called the Opera
del Duomo, was under the patronage of the wool guild (Arte
della Lana), and the primary medium was carved stone rather
than cast bronze. There existed here a much freer atmosphere,
promoting individual artistic development, and an implicit
belief that from competition among artists working for the
same cause the best work would eventually emerge. It is here
that Donatello formed a sense of independence as a sculptor.
By 1408 he was already being recognized as a formidable young
carver of statuary and was entrusted with work on one of
the most important commissions of the time, the Porta della
Mandorla, the extravagant entry on the north side of Florence
Cathedral that was then in progress (illus. 5).
Donatello’s activity before 1408 is not well understood.
He was a participant within the cathedral workshop, master­
ing his carving skills, but it is crucial to recognize that any
young sculptor, whatever his individualized talents, was here
integrated as part of a team working as collaborators, taking
care to form their work into a harmonized whole. It is not a
slight to think that Donatello might have carved secondary
works or architectural details to develop his carving skills and
have contributed to various items of statuary; all of which
makes attribution difficult. He became the most skilled carver
of his generation, though how he developed such mastery is
a mystery of art.
donatello 28

As important as technical skill was the formation of artistic


relationships. Donatello soon gravitated towards a father-
and-son team, Antonio and Nanni di Banco, who became his
friends and in many ways acted as mentors. Other important
sculptors at the cathedral workshop, who factored significantly
in Donatello’s early career, included Niccolò di Piero Lamberti
and Bernardo di Piero Ciuffagni. Though none of these men

5 Porta della Mandorla, marble.


29 Artistic Formation

achieved the later fame of Donatello, they cannot be dis­


counted as companions or friendly rivals, and at times both.
In November 1406 Donatello received payment for a
prophet to adorn the Porta della Mandorla. Though identi­
fication of this figure is disputed, a small statue from the
Porta, now in the cathedral workshop museum, is almost
certainly by Donatello from this period (illus. 6).23 This small
figure (about 128 cm / 50 in. tall) shows some progressive
features when compared to the other examples from the
same complex. The prophet does not stand in a typical con­
trapposto but rather leans forward, balancing himself while
putting weight onto the left knee and pushing it forward.
Drapery subsequently smooths out over the left knee and
thigh, while the drapery on the right clings to the body in
concentric folds. The face of the figure presages Donatello’s
later faces described in his marble David and St George, and
the wreath that circles the prophet’s head appears much like
that on the former. One final detail speaks volumes towards
its attribution to Donatello. A knot of rope lies against the
prophet’s right breast. Its purpose is unclear, especially since
the prophet has lost whatever he once held between his
hands, which may have been a scroll fashioned in another
medium. Nevertheless, the intricacy and realism of this small
knot indicates an artistic sensibility keen to those seemingly
incidental quirks that animate a body or describe a fashion or
characterize an attitude. Throughout his career Donatello’s
eccentricity of character shows through in unique moments
of interpretive detail, making his works inimitable.
By February 1408 Donatello had clearly distinguished
himself among the cathedral workshop sculptors and he
donatello 30

received a more exalted commission. By this time he had


formed a close artistic and personal relationship with his col­
league Nanni di Banco. Nanni was probably born around 1374,
making him about twelve years older than Donatello. The two
were so in harmony artistically that Vasari mistook Donatello
for being the older master, and their respective contributions
from this period are still debated. In January 1408 a commis­
sion had been awarded to Nanni and his father Antonio to
make a statue of the prophet Isaiah. This was intended as part
of a grand scheme to create twelve prophets that would grace
the exterior buttress spurs of Florence Cathedral.24 In February
Donatello was awarded the contract to sculpt a companion
prophet, specifically a David. This created a rivalry to be sure,
but a friendly one.
Nanni finished his figure first, in December, and it was
placed on a cathedral spur. Donatello finished his figure the
following June; the plan then took an unexpected turn. Instead
of Donatello’s figure joining Nanni’s atop the cathedral,
Nanni’s figure was removed, leaving all the spurs once again
bare. The life-sized figures proved too small to have their
intended effect at such a great height of display. Nanni’s Isaiah
remained part of the cathedral decorations, first gracing the
facade and then finding its way inside the building, where it
still stands today. The fate of Donatello’s figure remains murky
and it could be one of several extant statues in the cathedral
museum of undetermined provenance and authorship.25
Meanwhile, there was no time to lose in employing Dona­
tello to make more works for the cathedral, and the overseers
(Operai) smartly sought to use competition among their sculp­
tors to everyone’s distinct advantage. A scheme was already
6 Donatello, Prophet, c. 1406, marble.
7 Donatello, St John the Evangelist, 1408–15, marble.
33 Artistic Formation

in progress, with marble being quarried, to place sculptures


of four seated evangelists on the cathedral facade. In December
1408 contracts were signed, giving one statue each to Niccolò
di Piero Lamberti, Nanni di Banco and Donatello. The fourth
statue would be given to the artist whose resultant figure was
determined to be best. This not only encouraged artistic com­
petition but added the nice inducement of another commission
to spur on superior work.
Unfortunately, the Operai eventually learned what they
should have surmised from the start – that the artists would
not deliver on time, and in 1410, with none of the three
statues completed, they gave the fourth to Bernardo di Piero
Ciuffagni. All four figures were finished by 1415, Donatello’s
under threat of a significant fine for further delay. Ciuffagni
had a certain advantage in a late start, having seen progress
made by the others, but his statue of St Matthew is sterile
and unexpressive, and is certainly the least interesting of the
four. Lamberti’s St Mark shows an attempt to enliven the figure
through more attention to drapery and facial detail, but it ulti­
mately remains boring and unresponsive to new tendencies.
Nanni’s statue of St Luke is of a different character. It is
bold, with a distinctively rendered face that implies life study.
The whole conveys a gravitas and monumentality derived
from the study of ancient sculpture almost to exaggeration
in its jutting right elbow and massive lap. The saint’s right
hand dramatically perches on his thigh and the torso exudes
an implied movement as if reacting to a viewer. Donatello’s
St John the Evangelist (illus. 7) is not a radical digression from
the others but offers an effective and original exploration of
the grandly seated subject.26 It is most akin to Nanni’s St Luke
donatello 34

but with an added element of realism that makes his figure


the most convincing and idiosyncratic. A sweep of drapery
crosses the chest and breaks from the normal stylization of
drapery folds; the book is held upright by the wrist rather
than by artificially posed fingers; the neck turns slightly
towards the right while the knees veer to the left: all these
details work in concert in the St John and lead to the most
animated and energetic portrayal of the group. The figure is
best seen from below, which was the original viewpoint –
with its base about 3 m (10 ft) from the ground – and from
this perspective the elongated pyramidal form evens out and
displays one of the first clearly evident uses by Donatello of
optical corrections, which will be a concern for the entirety
of his remaining career.27 The viewer’s experience is essential,
and no sculptor since classical times had taken this realization
to its fruition, especially since it entails the deliberate distor­
tion of form in the process. Visually the figure adjusts when
viewed correctly.
Art is a fiction, and Donatello understood how to manip­
ulate it to best advantage. Ripped from its context and viewed
head-on, the fiction is revealed, rendering the visual effect far
less stunning. Only Donatello and Nanni understood this at
the time. They were engaged in a different conversation from
Lamberti and Ciuffagni, who were left behind while others
marched forward towards a new art.
During his career Donatello rarely worked on one com­
mission at a time, making any strict sequence of his sculptural
development dubious. He also consistently experimented
with varied media. On both issues, a good case in point is
a statue Donatello made of the prophet Joshua.28 It had its
35 Artistic Formation

beginnings in 1410 when the Operai revised their ill-fated


scheme to place twelve prophets atop the cathedral spurs.
Having learned that life-sized figures were too small, this
time they wanted giants. Donatello was to manufacture a
colossal figure of Joshua. A problem, however, was that the
scale they had in mind (about 5 m (16 feet) tall) would make
it difficult to complete in marble, especially since no block of
sufficient size had been quarried since ancient days. Piecing
together smaller blocks of stone was a possibility but an
unpalatable aesthetic choice for most sculptors.
Donatello approached the problem with his typical inven­
tiveness and proceeded with an unprecedented plan. He
constructed his figure with a brick core surrounded by clay,
and he had the whole whitewashed with lead white to imitate
the appearance of marble stone. It worked. The figure carried
the nickname the ‘White Colossus’ or ‘The Large White Man’
and was hoisted to a cathedral spur where it remained until
the eighteenth century, when it strangely disappeared from all
records. We know its appearance from prints, none of which
render much detail but all of which demonstrate its grand
effect. Modern clichés describe innovation in terms like ‘think­
ing outside the box’. For Donatello such innovation became a
norm. He lived in an environment that he helped create, that
prized invention and problem-solving in art, and that put an
emphasis on the novel and daring, even for its own sake.
This dynamic is well illustrated by an incident in which
Donatello took part around 1409–10 – a brilliant ruse per­
petrated by Brunelleschi, Donatello and their friends on an
unsuspecting colleague.29 Antonio Manetti narrates the events,
which centred on a woodworker named Manetto, nicknamed
donatello 36

Il Grasso (The Fat One). Manetto made the mistake of not


attending an arranged dinner with a group of friends that
included Brunelleschi, Donatello, Manetti, the patron Gio­
vanni Rucellai and others who congregated at the house of
Tommaso Pecori, a distinguished aristocrat. In this salon-like
meeting of intellectuals and artists Manetto’s absence was
considered a social slight. As playful revenge, Brunelleschi

8 Brunelleschi, Crucifix, c. 1410–15, polychrome wood. Santa Maria Novella,


Florence.
37 Artistic Formation

orchestrated a rather mean but devilishly clever prank whereby


the group succeeded in fooling Manetto that he was actually
somebody else. The plot entailed the collusion of a judge, a
priest, family members, colleagues, friends and other con­
spirators, all of whom subsequently addressed Manetto as a
mutual acquaintance named Matteo. Donatello played his

9 Donatello, Crucifix, c. 1407–10, polychrome wood. Santa Croce, Florence.


donatello 38

part and laughed heartily at the outcome, which resulted in


a relatively benign ending. He played the prankster, fully
complicit in this group dynamic that was petty on the one
hand and ingenious on the other, with perverse attention to
detail, such as using opiates to induce a deep sleep in the
victim so the perpetrators could rearrange his workshop and
change his sleeping orientation to further confuse the poor
woodworker on awakening. One must dispel the idea of the
solitary Renaissance genius, whether in pranks or in art. It
took many individuals, some with extraordinary intellect and
creativity, to successfully engineer this elaborate ruse, and so
too in making progressive art.
Donatello also took his turn as the lesser player in a pur­
ported instance of artistic one-upmanship. Around the time
of the prank on Manetto, Donatello completed a wooden
crucifix for a chapel in the church of Santa Croce (illus. 9).30
Various sources mention the work, including an embellished
version of events by Vasari. Vasari says that upon finishing
the crucifix Donatello showed it to his friend Brunelleschi,
who criticized the figure for looking more like a peasant than
a Christ. Donatello thus challenged Brunelleschi to make a
better one. Brunelleschi fashioned his work in secret and
one day asked Donatello over to dinner. The pair first went
shopping and Brunelleschi asked Donatello to transport the
food to his house while he ran an errand. Donatello opened
the door to Brunelleschi’s house and beheld the crucifix, at
which point he dropped the food to the floor, breaking the
eggs in the process. The story ends with Donatello declaring
to Brunelleschi, ‘to you it is granted to make Christs and to
me to make peasants.’
39 Artistic Formation

The anecdote, however much exaggerated, raises impor­


tant issues regarding the development of the new Renaissance
aesthetic. Donatello’s crucifix remains in the church of Santa
Croce and Brunelleschi’s rests across the city in Santa Maria
Novella (illus. 8). While neither crucifix can be precisely
dated, they were both produced in this age of transformation
from medieval to Renaissance style. Donatello’s Christ, at its
most basic and important essence, is in fact a study of the male
nude – Donatello’s first realization of the theme.31 Contrary
to popular perception, Donatello did not produce many adult
nudes. He eventually made at least three crucifixes (two in
wood and one in bronze) and a bronze youthful David, while
the rest of his nudes are variations of spiritelli (sprites) of one
sort or another, whether in relief or free-standing. Aside from
the crucifixes, Donatello sculpted no other adult male nudes
and no female nudes approaching life size if we consider that
his wooden Magdalene is clothed in her own hair and reveals
little of her body. This crucifix is thus an important early
statement on the unadorned human body.
What did Brunelleschi mean by accusing Donatello of
manufacturing a peasant? The failing, as implied by Brunel­
leschi, is in what the figure was not. It was not heroic, and
certainly not god-like, as judged by a classical aesthetic. Its
virtues reside in its realism, based in large measure on life
study, but the forms do not coalesce in a way that conforms
to a greater classical ideal. In truth, the two respective cruci­
fixes are not radically different and to the uncritical eye are
rather comparable. The main differences are found in the
respective exploration of the body and the emotion it elicits
in the viewer. Donatello’s figure is more raw and emotive of
donatello 40

suffering, like the German Andachtsbilder (devotional images)


that were so popular in the Middle Ages. Donatello’s Christ
seems haggard, his detailed face rife with pain, and his body
slumped in suffering; the musculature appears exaggerated
and mannered. The addition of polychromy makes the figure
seem more real, and it may have been applied by a painter,
a common means of collaboration.32 Donatello also incorp­
orated a medieval aesthetic in its proportions. One can easily
argue that the head is too large, the legs too short and the arms
rather scrawny. Though optical corrections may be present,
the arms are hinged to pivot at the shoulder, so the figure was
probably meant to serve multiple poses and to be seen from
multiple viewpoints – for example the arms might toggle to
the side when taken down from the cross, as if re-enacting the
Deposition. The crucifix may have served other functions, such
as a featured object in processions, plays or other active cele­
brations in addition to its more passive display as a reverential
sculpture.
By comparison, in Brunelleschi’s crucifix one notices the
classical derivation of idealized proportions, the elegance of
the body and its almost effortless sway. Brunelleschi’s Christ
suffers less and emanates a stoic calm. Modern observers
often prefer the Donatello figure because of its rawness, but
it is not a question of preference. In the early fifteenth cen­
tury Brunelleschi’s sculpture would have seemed more
classical and progressive. It represents the rebirthing of a
classical system in the ultimate Christian figure, arguably still
awkwardly, but at least decidedly. Masaccio, considered the
first true Renaissance painter, saw the revolutionary nature
of Brunelleschi’s crucifix and essentially painted his friend’s
41 Artistic Formation

figure at the centre of his wall fresco known as the Trinity, in


the same church of Santa Maria Novella. Masaccio’s Trinity is
acknowledged as one of the first Renaissance paintings and
it helped introduce Brunelleschi’s system of mathematical
perspective, with the most astounding optical illusion of
three-dimensional space for its time. Masaccio was good
friends with Brunelleschi and Donatello and depicted them
both in a lost fresco in the cloister of Santa Maria del Carmine.
It is cause rather than coincidence that these three, the first
great painter, sculptor and architect of the times, were close
friends and conversed with each other both in words and in
art as the Renaissance took root.

the daw n of r enaissance art


The breakthrough to the dawn of a Renaissance in art was
imminent. As with the critical competition for the Baptistery’s
north doors, this new activity took place at an important build­
ing central to Florence’s civic identity. It is called Orsanmichele.
The building still stands on the via dei Calzaiuoli, the street
that runs from the Baptistery to the Piazza della Signoria, one
of the most trafficked avenues in the city then as now. It had
been the site of an open grain market that was later enclosed
and transformed into an oratory and grain storage facility. It
was not only associated with spirituality and the notion of
miraculous intervention for the citizens of Florence, but served
as a guarantor of the city’s collective health and its ability to
provide food to all its citizens. The building bears fourteen
exterior niches built into the structure, and their embellishment
was assigned to the various civic guilds, both major and minor.
donatello 42

Due to little early progress having been made in decorating


these niches with statuary, a decree in 1406 stipulated that the
niches should be filled within ten years on penalty of forfeiting
patronage rights.
The threat of losing a privilege is a good way to beget
action. The decree sparked immediate competition among
the guilds and their chosen artists to embellish the niches.
The resulting statuary would be highly visible, amounting
to an open art gallery featuring the city’s finest sculpture
and glorifying its benevolent patrons. The minor guilds all
commissioned marble statues while the major guilds pre­
ferred bronzes. Bronze was far more expensive in material
costs and had a higher status, thus giving greater prestige to
those who used it. At this time bronze work in Florence was
synonymous with Lorenzo Ghiberti, whereas marble carving
was associated with those sculptors connected to the cathe­
dral workshop. The main characters all bear familiar names:
Brunelleschi, Lamberti, Nanni di Banco, probably Ciuffagni
and, of course, Donatello.
Progress began in 1406 with an uninspiring Gothic figure
of St Luke made by Lamberti for the niche of the judges’ and
notaries’ guild (Arte dei Giudici e Notai). It set a low bar for
innovation that would be quickly superseded. The guild itself,
sensing some embarrassment, would later replace it with a
bronze statue. A statue of St Peter was next commissioned
by the butchers’ guild (Arte dei Beccai). Older sources attribute
the figure to Brunelleschi or Donatello or both, but it is an
inconsistent statue that makes only incremental contributions
to a new style through its nascent classicism and insistence
on a low viewpoint.
43 Artistic Formation

The truly inspiring creations were those of the second


decade of the fifteenth century. Ghiberti enjoyed an ascend­
ant artistic position, with his work progressing on the north
Baptistery doors, and he was the only sculptor in the city
working extensively in bronze. He became the natural choice
for the major guilds, the most wealthy and politically power­
ful. Ghiberti’s figure of St John the Baptist (illus. 10) for the
Arte di Calimala was a casting tour de force that finally rivalled
the ancient accomplishment of producing large-scale statuary
using the lost-wax process. This massive, larger-than-life figure
exudes an even more monumental presence. It is one of the
most beautiful sculptures cast in the entire fifteenth century,
though it largely speaks the Gothic language of a previous
generation. The drapery makes elegant patterns of curving
lines, much like rippling water, but their flow relates little to
the figure beneath. The pose has a stereotypical medieval sway
rather than a convincing shift of weight indicative of a nat­
uralistic pose. The saint’s stern expression, overwhelming
size and otherworldly sense of presence make it an abstract
and timeless statement, whereas the more progressive trend
of Donatello and the marble sculptors would focus on the
human and the actuality of the natural world.
Where Ghiberti’s bronzes are impressive accomplishments
within an established internationally recognized style, Dona­
tello’s marble figures at Orsanmichele were revolutionary. In
1411 Donatello received a contract from the guild of linen
weavers and used-cloth dealers (Arte dei Linaioli e Rigattieri). This
was a minor guild, and the marble block assigned to Dona­­
tello had actually been quarried for Lamberti two years before.
This block became Donatello’s figure of St Mark (illus. 11),
donatello 44

which has been called the earliest unequivocal Renaissance


work of art in any medium.33 The statue is justly praised for
its classicism, its humanity, its natural pose and its realistically
intense expression. But even an infinite list of these individ­
ual parts will not add up to the whole of what makes this a
transformative figure.
In truth, Donatello’s St Mark is not a statue of absolutes.
It appears defective if seen incorrectly and groundbreaking

10 Ghiberti, St John the Baptist, c. 1412–16, gilt bronze.


45 Artistic Formation

only when recognized as a novel way to create art for the


human eye. Vasari’s narrative about the statue makes this point
vividly. He claims that the guild members were initially dis­
pleased with the statue when they saw it at eye level. Donatello
urged them to let him fix it. For two weeks he did nothing to

11 Donatello, St Mark, 1411–13, marble.


donatello 46

the statue but raise it into the niche at Orsanmichele and


cover it up. When it was newly unveiled at the correct height,
the spectators were duly amazed. Viewpoint and the way
the statue interacted with the observer in time and space
were essential.
The contemporary viewer at Orsanmichele needed to see
this statue in this niche, at this height, with this light, within
these limits of street, surrounding buildings and the context of
fifteenth-century Florence. In such a way, the details coalesced
into a greater whole. St Mark’s contrapposto imitates a natural
pose that most humans enact without any thought, shifting
weight towards one side of the body, as recognized in much
classical statuary. The drapery falls as it does because of the
body underneath, clinging or hanging according to the body’s
movement. One of the most telling details is the cushion on
which the saint stands. It probably refers to the commission­
ing guild and its wares, but more importantly it appears to be
soft, allowing the saint to sink slightly into its supple surface.
In other words, the cushion reveals that the figure has weight.
Donatello’s St Mark was the first statue of the Renaissance
to break down the barriers between reality and artistry. All
previous statues of the type assume an imaginary plane
through which the viewer peers into an unreal world of
spirituality and abstraction. Donatello shatters this barrier
because the reality he depicts seems continuous with the
viewer’s own. The optical correction does not make the aber­
ration go away – it allows it to make sense. All is purposeful
to foster an illusion of merging realities. Both the humanity
and spirituality of the saint are established in rapport with
the viewer, making both seem more present.
47 Artistic Formation

As if to prove the point, the original statue looks decidedly


awkward when viewed straight on in the museum today, while
a copy enjoys the original niche. The body seems elongated
and even the drapery appears contorted. Without the niche
to obstruct our view we see that the back is unfinished. These
are secrets behind the curtain of artistry that would not have
been readily revealed to the original spectator. When first
unveiled, the statue’s effects were magical, as if Donatello had
made a marble figure come to life. Michelangelo took particu­
lar note of this illusionism and, if Vasari is to be believed, said
that ‘he [Michelangelo] had never seen a figure that seemed
more like an honest man and that if St Mark were like the
statue, we could believe all that he had written.’34 With this
statue Donatello inspired belief in the power of art to imi­
tate and even improve upon life experience, and he thereby
ushered in the true rebirth, or Renaissance, of art as an ideal
outgrowth of the natural world.

Donatello thrived on competition, whether competing with


the ancients, with his contemporaries or with himself by
always striving to invent new forms and never falling into
repetitive patterns. Donatello’s only real rival working within
the new style at Orsanmichele was Nanni di Banco, his friend
and companion at the cathedral workshop. Concurrent with
Donatello’s work on St Mark, Nanni worked on a figure of
St Philip for the shoemakers’ guild (Arte dei Calzolai).35 Vasari
relates that the guild first gave the commission to Donatello,
who demanded too much money, and that it subsequently
transferred the commission to Nanni. When Nanni finished
the statue, he requested even more money than Donatello,
donatello 48

whereupon the guild asked Donatello to settle the dispute.


Unexpectedly, Donatello sided with Nanni. His argument was
that it took much more time for Nanni to carve the figure
than Donatello himself would have needed, and therefore
Nanni deserved more money for the additional time he had
spent. It was a tongue-in-cheek response that supported his
friend while at the same time claiming his own artistic supe­
riority. The only real losers were the guild patrons, who had
to pay more money than they desired. Many of Vasari’s tales
are inventions, but this strikes just the right tone of friendly
rivalry in which both sculptors could fairly claim victory.
Nanni made a more notable contribution to the chorus
of activity at Orsanmichele through a group of sculptures
known as the Quattro Santi Coronati (Four Crowned Martyr
Saints, illus. 12).36 Nanni belonged to the sponsoring guild,
the masters of stone and wood (Arte dei Maestri di Pietra e Legname),
and winning the commission from his peers indicated how
far Nanni’s repu­tation had risen both artistically and poli­
tically.37 The martyrs’ story took place under the Emperor
Diocletian (r. 284–305), when this group of Christian sculp­
tors chose death rather than carve statues of the pagan god
Asclepius. Nanni depicts them as heavily classicizing fig­
ures, emanating stoic gravitas. Again, Vasari claims that
Donatello saved his friend because Nanni had initially made
the four-figure group too large for the niche. Donatello
therefore sent Nanni to Prato for a few days, during which
time he and some assistants shaved down the sculptures to
fit. All he asked from Nanni in return was a dinner. The
story is unlikely, especially because two of the figures are
actually carved from the same block, leaving little room for
49 Artistic Formation

modification. But again, the tales of artistic rivalry and sup­


port ring true in spirit.
Donatello’s next revolutionary move came through a figure
of St George (illus. 13) and an accompanying narrative relief
featuring one of the saint’s exploits (illus. 14).38 By legend,
George was a Christian soldier who saved a princess and her
town by capturing a dragon that had been terrorizing the popu­
lace. George slew the dragon once the townspeople converted
to Christianity. Donatello’s statue of St George was made for
display in a shallow niche under the patronage of the guild of
armourers and swordsmiths (Arte dei Corazzai e Spedai). At various
times throughout its subsequent history this has been Dona­
tello’s most admired statue. The Renaissance architect Filarete,
despite criticizing Donatello for other works, called it ‘excel­
lent and perfect’.39 Its original appearance is debated since
drill holes in the head suggest a head covering such as a helmet
or wreath, while holes at the left thigh imply a once-attached
scabbard, and a cavity at the right palm indicates the saint
held an object like a baton, sword or lance. Later visual rep­
resentations inspired by Donatello’s St George add various
objects to all these areas. Considering the nature of the guild
as providing arms and armour, it is logical to suppose that
George did bear their wares. Bronze accoutrements would
have activated the figure both visually and spatially. A sword,
for example, would have jutted out into the street towards
the viewer, while a helmet would have filled the awkwardly
empty space in the uppermost part of the niche.
Generations of critics especially admired the life-like qual­
ities of St George. Vasari says:
donatello 50

In the head can be read the beauty of youth, spirit and


valor in arms, a proud and terrible energy and a mar­
velous sense of movement within the stone. Certainly
in modern figures no such vivacity and spirit is to be
seen in marble as nature and art effected through the
hand of Donatello in this statue.40

12 Nanni di Banco, Quattro Santi Coronati, c. 1409–17, marble (copy in original


setting).
51 Artistic Formation

A passage by the writer Anton Francesco Doni, from 1552,


has the statue actually speaking, asking the viewer, ‘Why do
you resent my beauty? It was impossible that Donatello
should represent me otherwise than as I am.’41 A sexualized
con­notation was given by Anton Francesco Grazzini in the
later sixteenth century when he called the statue ‘my beautiful
Ganymede’, with its homoerotic connotations.42

13 Donatello, St George, c. 1415–17, marble.


donatello 52

One key to the statue is the connotation of impending


action. Donatello posed the statue with subtlety, using nei­
ther a typical contrapposto stance nor one that implies stasis.
George’s legs stand apart while his arms balance the shield,
forming a perfect tripod of stability but not relaxation. He
leans slightly towards his left and forward from the niche.
He arches his shoulders back and his waist forward as if tak­
ing a deep breath of readiness. Put together, St George stands
watchful and alert, and it seems that he could at any moment
confidently move forward to battle. In contrast to the other
statues at Orsanmichele and most other sculptural representa­
tions of saints in the city, Donatello’s St George displays an
ideal of youthful assuredness. Instead of being covered in
voluminous flowing drapery, George wears a cape over clas­
sicizing armour, and the muscled cuirass emphasizes an
idealized athletic body that must lie beneath. The dress and
shield are of a type appropriate for tournaments and pageants,
making explicit that he is on display. 43 Altogether, this unique
interpretation of young manhood, in a city so celebrating of
it, must have been revelatory. With sublimely idealized facial
features, both tender in age and mature in spirit, St George
manifests the perfect embodiment of the active life that
singularly complements the spiritual and contemplative lives

14 Donatello, St George relief, c. 1417, marble.


53 Artistic Formation

denoted in the other contemporary sculptures at Orsanmichele.


St George is thus the exception to the rule, and, if we imagine
the glistening bronze accoutrements complementing white
marble and a sword jutting out from a shallow niche, it is no
wonder he seemed more alive and vibrant than anything yet
seen in Florentine art.
It would be wrong, however, to think of this sculptural
florescence occurring as a series of monologues in which
one sculpture directly succeeded another, with conversation
proceeding in an orderly way. Instead, one must envision a
scrum of activity, with the sculptors frequently arguing and
just as often agreeing, offering friendly challenges, accepting
criticism and sculpting overlapping works that regularly ex­
tended far beyond their expected dates of completion. The
guilds would not have allowed sabotage or subterfuge, but
they certainly encouraged friendly rivalry and serious com­
petition. Only in wishful hindsight do the results seem
inevitable and their contributions distinct or linear. For this
reason, it is understandable that with many of the works we
attribute to Donatello the sources also implicate Brunel­
leschi.44 Brunelleschi was an important part of Donatello’s
early conversations, and when it came to Donatello’s next
challenge Brunelleschi’s innovative thinking about art was
certainly at its core.
While creating his St George statue Donatello made a con­
current breakthrough in the arena of relief sculpture, and his
peers deserve some recognition for stimulating the creativity.45
The revolutionary nature of the art must be seen in relation
to painting and the fundamental challenge of depicting the
three-dimensional world on a two-dimensional plane. This
donatello 54

challenge gave impetus to the development of a mathematical


way to render fictional space, such that Brunelleschi developed
(or discovered, one could argue) single-point perspective
– also called mathematical or Brunelleschian perspective.
Masaccio most famously displayed its use in his painting of
the Trinity in Santa Maria Novella, but Donatello’s relief for
St George precedes it by a decade. Donatello also took the
un­precedented route of starting with a plastic medium and
incorporating the extension of space seemingly afforded only
to those working in one plane.
To understand Donatello’s revolutionary technique one
may again compare his work to that of Nanni di Banco, an
excellent sculptor in his own right. Nanni’s relief beneath the
Quattro Santi Coronati shows the four classical sculptors engaged
in their art. They work on a figure and on architectural orna­
ments. Nanni displays the whole as if the viewer peers into
a box (much like a shoe-box tableau exercise). The whole is
bordered on all sides while we peer through the front into
a space defined by the objects within. The space is as deep
as the width of the person or chair or sawhorse seen depicted.
A back wall parallel to the front plane prevents any further
reading of space. The three-dimensionality of figures and
objects is actual rather than implied. Forms are literal and
exist as well-formed objects in space. The technique, which
has precedents in Roman sarcophagi, has the advantage of
clarity and simplicity, while the execution takes virtuoso
technique to successfully carve with such intricacy.
With its incorporation of single-point perspective and
unorthodox carving, Donatello’s St George relief has no pre­
cedent.46 It is an entirely novel attempt to render space using
55 Artistic Formation

low relief sculpture, or rilievo schiacciato.47 Donatello dispenses


with the rigidly defined spatial box and assumes an ideal view­
point from below, at the average viewer’s actual vantage point.
He carves with varying grades of relief, ranging from the more
fully three-dimensional figure of St George to the description
of trees and clouds barely scratched into the marble surface.
When viewed correctly, the entire scene opens up in time and
space like a play staged immediately for the viewer. On the left
appears the opening to the dragon’s cave and on the right a
classical colonnade. Both conform to mathematical perspec­
tive, following lines that meet at an imaginary vanishing point
at the centre top of the marble panel just above George’s head,
and as if pushing the eye to continue to the statue stand­
ing above. Trees sketched in shallow relief form a backdrop
without closing off space because the hills and clouds among
them continue to recede into the infinite distance. The less
detailed rendering of objects depicted as further within space
establishes the first instance of atmospheric perspective in
the Renaissance and has even been called ‘Impressionist’.48
Nineteenth-century copies better show some of these details
since unfortunately the original has deteriorated greatly.
Mounted on his horse and with full battle gear, St George
looms in the foreground in larger scale and higher relief than
any other detail. This makes him appear closer to the viewer
visually, though the difference in relief may be measured only
in millimetres of marble. His horse pivots on a slight diagonal
into the background, leaving its rump well defined while the
head and neck are only lightly drawn into the surface. Dona­
tello renders the scene by scratching carefully into the surface
and introduces new-found motion and emotion. On the right
donatello 56

side the princess swoons. In the centre George thrusts his


spear and his cape flutters dramatically. To the left the dragon
reels. Donatello thus creates an action-packed scene in a
supposedly static medium. He has effectively destroyed the
perceived superiority of painting to render spatial illusionism.
A revolution in sculpture was now plain to see and experience
on the exterior of Orsanmichele.
two

The Business of Art

S
uccess often brings its own forms of stress. His
genius now clearly apparent, Donatello gradually
found himself in such demand he could not pos­
sibly satisfy all his prospective suitors, especially within the
artificially determined deadlines that patrons predictably
sought. Like a snowball gathering mass as it rolls down a hill,
Donatello’s obligations broadened through commissions at
the cathedral workshop, the guilds embellishing Orsanmichele
and governmental bodies who sought his services as a point
of civic pride. All these patrons were linked through the com­
plicated and close-knit politics of the day, and Donatello’s
uncommon talent helped him negotiate difficult waters as
patrons became more accommodating of his eccentricities
than they might have been for others. Not yet thirty years old,
Donatello had become an authority in the arts and, arguably
– Ghiberti would have disagreed – the most progressive
sculptor in Florence.
15 Donatello, David, c. 1408–12 and modified 1416, marble.
59 The Business of Art

competition and collabor ation


In 1415 the cathedral Operai initiated a final push, complete
with threats, for Donatello to finish the seated St John the
Evangelist for the cathedral facade. At the same time, they made
the task more difficult by diverting the artist to other matters.
Donatello first received commissions for two new figures
intended to decorate the cathedral’s campanile (bell tower).
In October of that year we also learn of an extraordinary
object being created jointly by Donatello and Brunel­leschi.
The Operai still hoped to continue the project of adorn­
ing Florence Cathedral with giant prophets perched on the
twelve spurs that buttress the dome. There was yet only one
reasonably successful figure – Donatello’s multi-media statue
of Joshua, which was weathering poorly since it had already
needed to be re-whitewashed. Brunelleschi and Donatello
were to make a test figure, or scale model, of a giant stone
statue to be covered in gilded lead.
The experimental figure was an episode of geniuses trying
to make lemonade out of lemons. This time it didn’t work
and may have caused temporary friction between the two
protagonists. In January of 1416 the Operai made threats that
Brunelleschi should give the lead to Donatello or face arrest.1
These threats were not idle. In September of 1412 Brunelleschi
had even managed to have Donatello imprisoned because
of a legal dispute between them over 50 florins.2 Time and
again the artists patched up their complicated relationship,
and in 1419 Donatello and Nanni di Banco are found help­
ing Brunelleschi with a model for his greatest achievement,
the dome of Florence Cathedral.3 Donatello and Nanni later
served on a committee to advise on Brunelleschi’s progress.
donatello 60

Even with overwhelming amounts of work in progress for


Orsanmichele and the cathedral, Donatello received addi­
tional demands for sculpture, including from the government.
In July 1416 government officials insisted that the cathedral
Operai immediately turn over a marble statue of David that
was in their possession (illus. 15). Donatello and his assistants
received sums to modify it. The statue was set up in the gov­
ernment palace against a wall painted with the Florentine lily
over a blue ground. This was in the Sala dell’Orologio (room of
the clock). The statue in situ made an impressive sight and
remained in place until the eighteenth century.
The origins of this statue remain unclear, with some claim­
ing it was Donatello’s first attempt to adorn the cathedral
spurs in 1408–9 and others arguing it must be a later statue,
completed around 1412, when he was paid for a figure of a
prophet David.4 The latter suggestion convinces more readily
since the statue has an ill-formed back, indicating it was meant
to be seen within a niche or against a wall rather than high
atop the cathedral, and its base does not match the shape of
the cathedral spurs. Stylistically, however, it must precede the
transformative innovations seen in the St Mark or St George stat­
ues from Orsanmichele. It belongs to an earlier era, around
1408–12, and Donatello’s intervention in 1416 was meant to
prepare this previously carved stone for a new setting.
The statue displays ambivalent tendencies. The overall
stance of David appears awkward, as it leans with a slight
Gothic sway rather than contrapposto, and it has an elon­
gated neck and rubbery-looking arms. Drapery furls around
the figure’s right side and billows around the right arm but
clings glue-like to the leg. The details, though, are beautifully
61 The Business of Art

executed, especially the hair and victor’s wreath on David’s


head, the rippled borders of his clothes and the evocative
head of Goliath. David’s right hand originally held straps that
connected to the sling’s pocket seen resting on Goliath’s head.
The statue also bore gilding. Typical of these early represen­
tations of David is the presence of a stone in Goliath’s head
and again in the sling’s pocket, which eviscerates time in that
the imagery can be read as both celebrating a present victory
and confirming the protagonist as armed and ready to fight
future foes. This was especially appropriate in its new setting
where it took on greater political significance.
Donatello intervened in 1416 to ready the statue for its
final placement in the government palace, and an inscription
was added prior to the end of the sixteenth century which
read: ‘To those who fight bravely for the homeland the gods
will lend aid even against the most terrible foes.’5 Florence
had a long tradition of associating itself with the biblical David,
with Michelangelo’s giant statue being the most famous later
example. It too came out of the cathedral workshop but upon
completion was set in front of the government palace. Dona­
tello’s marble David spoke much earlier as a political statue,
and Michelangelo well knew of this and other precedents
when he composed his masterpiece.6
Another civic symbol for Florence was a lion holding
a shield, called the Marzocco. Actual lions resided in cages
kept behind the Palazzo della Signoria, their behaviour
being consulted in times of war. In front of the palazzo the
Florentines displayed various stone versions of the Marzocco
and, in a theatrical show of subservience to the state, pris­
oners were forced to kiss its behind.7 Donatello received
donatello 62

his commission for a Marzocco (illus. 16) from the cathedral


Operai in anticipation of a visit from the new pope, Martin
v (1417–31), which eventually transpired between 1418 and
1420.8 To prepare for this important event a new papal apart­
ment was built at the church of Santa Maria Novella with a
staircase designed in consultation with Ghiberti. Donatello’s
Marzocco was intended for display at its apex. The stone of
both staircase and lion was the local pietra di macigno, rather
than marble. It is a softer stone and not as weather-resistant,
but it had the advantages of being less expensive and easier
to carve, and served especially well for interiors.
Donatello’s Marzocco follows the traditional format of a
seated lion resting a paw on the Florentine shield. It is not­
able for its detailed and expressive face, which is almost a
mix of the feline and human. Such an anthropomorphic figure
guarding the Florentine republic like a soldier might have
seemed too aggressive and even defiant to a pontiff whose
favour was being cautiously courted. The statue should have
been quick work but Donatello did not complete it in time
for Martin v’s visit. One cannot help but wonder whether the
delay was inten­tional so as not to antagonize the Pope with
such a blatant symbol of Florentine independence.
Martin’s visit was an important event, as no pope had
visited Florence for 150 years. The timing occurred just after
the great Papal or Western Schism, which saw three men
simultaneously claiming to have papal authority. The Council
of Constance settled matters with the election of Martin v
as pope, and he would pass through Florence on his way from
Constance to Rome. A loser in the schism was Baldassare
Cossa, formerly John xxiii and now an antipope. Cossa had
16 Donatello, Marzocco, 1418–20, pietra di macigno.
donatello 64

been supported by the Medici, who remained loyal to Cossa,


and they would later honour the man posthumously by creat­
ing, with the help of Donatello and Michelozzo di Bartolo­meo,
a magnificent tomb monument. The Florence visit witnessed
the theatrical reconciliation of Martin v with Cossa, who
died shortly thereafter, instigating a significant change in
Dona­tello’s career.
Though pulled in all directions, Donatello had to address
the commission for the campanile. Money to Donatello was
being dispersed regularly, and his friend Nanni di Banco
assisted by acting as guarantor for advanced payments. But
Donatello needed help carving and turned to a competent if
uninspiring sculptor, Nanni di Bartolo, nicknamed il Rosso
(the Red).9
The campanile bears four niches on each of its four sides,
and eight of these spaces already contained statues. Donatello
received commissions for two new statues along with the
oppor­tunity to finish an additional figure left incomplete by
Bernardo Ciuffagni. Donatello understandably shifted res­
pons­­­ibility for this statue to il Rosso. Donatello delivered
one of his new statues in 1418 and another in 1420, all the
while working concurrently on his many other projects. The
docu­ments do not specify the identities of these campanile
prophets, and therefore scholars have taken to calling them
the Bearded Prophet and Beardless Prophet, respectively.10
The Bearded Prophet (illus. 17) was probably the earlier of
the two to be finished, since it is most like the statuary on
Orsan­michele, though the individual chronology of these
prophets is less important than the resulting pair, especially
since Dona­tello rarely completed any statue in this period
17 Donatello, Bearded Prophet, 1416–18, marble.
donatello 66

without others in various stages of ideation or execution.


The Bearded Prophet seems serious and self-contained, with
a pose significantly more effective when seen from below,
indicating the same obses­sion with optical considerations as
at Orsanmichele. The right hand at the chin with index finger
across the cheek marks a pensive and quiet figure with gravitas
but without the same attention to the body displayed in the St
Mark. Here the body is more hidden, but a nice detail shows
in the left foot, which overlaps its rocky base and implies a
break in the barrier between its space and the viewer’s.
The Beardless Prophet (illus. 18) appears more animated than
its companion and his drapery cascades over the edge of his
rocky base. The prophet holds a scroll between his hands
and looks down towards the viewer. Donatello gave the face
a portrait-like character with a sombre expression, more com­
pelling than his bearded counterpart’s, and more similar to
ancient portrait busts of Roman senators. The muscles and
veins of the neck stand out, denoting great strain, and thus
the physical tension suggests the psychological and emotional
turmoil borne by this prophet whose identity escapes us today
but would have been known to Donatello’s first audience. Both
figures were well received and gained their respective places
in the campanile niches.
With progress on the campanile project going well, Dona­
tello received another commission for this series. This involved
a two-figure group of Abraham and Isaac to be carved from
one block of stone (illus. 19).11 Donatello again turned to il
Rosso for assistance. The two sculptors made remarkably quick
work of this statue, having begun in March 1421 and finishing
by November, and it shows. Though Donatello must have
67 The Business of Art

had the major role in the statue’s design, he was not respon­
sible for the bulk of the carving. The group lacks the power
of Donatello’s other works of the period. Abraham stands
behind a kneeling Isaac and the father rests a knife’s edge on
his child’s shoulder. It is unique among the campanile stat­
ues for comprising two figures in a narrative situation and
might have been more dynamic in Donatello’s hands alone.
Donatello and il Rosso were well aware of the obvious refer­
ence to the reliefs made twenty years earlier by Brunelleschi
and Ghiberti. This result pales by comparison, and the drama
is so weak that it has been explained away as a depiction after
the event, when Abraham relaxes his arm knowing the sac­
rifice will not proceed. In retrospect it seems an opportunity
had been lost, especially to explore further the male nude in
the figure of Isaac. Still, there is no indication the Operai were
anything but pleased – they paid handsomely (125 florins)
for their work. Il Rosso would soon be given another statue
to carve, depicting Obadiah, and Donatello remained well
employed.
One reason for Donatello working with il Rosso is that
personal and professional tragedy had recently struck in one
blow. In 1421 Nanni di Banco died. The cause remains unknown
but Vasari indicates an aching flank (mal di fianco), or a prob­
able abdominal illness. Nanni’s death must have been unsettling
to Donatello, even in an age accustomed to untimely death
by plague, accident or unexplained causes. Nanni had been
about 47 years old when he died and in a prime position
professionally, politically and socially. Soon after finishing
the Quattro Santi Coronati he was elected to high governmental
offices, which was unusual for a sculptor. Documents show
18 Donatello, Beardless Prophet, 1418–20, marble.
19 Donatello and Nanni di Bartolo, Abraham and Isaac, 1421, marble.
donatello 70

that in Florence he was giving assistance and inspiration to


Donatello, Brunelleschi and others. All the while, Nanni
worked on finishing the cathedral’s Porta della Mandorla.
On his death, Donatello and several other colleagues stepped
in to satisfy the situation.
Nanni had received the Porta della Mandorla commission
in 1414 and work had progressed slowly due to his other artis­
tic and political responsibilities.12 He died with the central and
most important section, the Assumption of the Virgin scene,
mostly complete but needing some installation and finishing
touches. In 1422, after Nanni’s death, Donatello added to the
ensemble by inserting two profile heads of prophets into the
frames. They seem unnecessary unless considered a tribute
of sorts to Nanni or part of Donatello’s desire to finish his
friend’s work exactly as planned.
Nanni’s contributions had a lasting influence on Floren­
tine sculpture, most notably through the work of Luca della
Robbia but also in sculptures by artists such as Bernardo and
Antonio Rossellino and Verrocchio.13 The monumental clas­
sicism of Nanni’s earlier statues was not lost on Donatello,
nor was the new dynamism seen in the Assumption of the Virgin.
The Assumption offered an argument that the exaggeration and
abstraction found in Gothic statuary could be used for good
purpose within the new Renaissance idiom of naturalism.
Nanni’s Assumption has been called Baroque – a descriptive
that characterizes an art two centuries thence – for its dram­
atic movement and theatricality, and these qualities may have
prompted Donatello to try new directions. In the wake of
Nanni’s death, stylistic idiosyncrasies in Donatello’s succeeding
works signal new experimentation.
71 The Business of Art

One of these works is an additional statue for the cam­


panile, carved during the period 1423–5. It depicts the prophet
Jeremiah (illus. 20) and picks up from tendencies seen in
the Beardless Prophet and detected concurrently with the St Louis
of Toulouse. Jeremiah’s drapery shows even greater animation,
almost unnaturally disturbed, with sections so convoluted
they recall the melodramatic sensibility found in Nanni’s
late work. The figure has an exaggerated, manic look, with
facial features that appear intensely personal and portrait-like
but almost like that of a madman. The statue is the product of
distress and virtuosity coming to the fore. Jeremiah is powerful
and emotional but lacks the subtlety of the most celebrated
work Donatello later carved for the campanile – a statue of
Habakkuk, or the so-called Lo Zuccone.
At the same time he worked on Jeremiah, Donatello explored
the possibilities and limitations of a new medium – bronze.
The impetus emerged from the prestigious opportunity to
decorate an additional niche on Orsanmichele – the most
prominent of the entire complex – on the central pier of the
building on the heavily travelled via dei Calzaiuoli. This niche
belonged not to a guild but to a powerful political party called
the Parte Guelfa. Their patron saint was St Louis of Toulouse,
who had renounced his claim to the Kingdom of Naples to
become a Franciscan friar and symbolized papal over imperial
authority. Donatello’s new statue would be flanked on the left
by Ghiberti’s successful bronze St John the Baptist and on the
right by Lamberti’s unremarkable St Luke.
Donatello worked on the St Louis statue (illus. 21) and its
niche between 1423 and 1425.14 He designed the space as the
most authentically classical of all the building’s niches and it is
donatello 72

probable he had the input of Brunelleschi, who had also been


working for the Parte Guelfa at the time. Overall, the niche has
a new sculptural quality, with many relief embellishments that
could only have come from Donatello’s own creative mind.
The St Louis was Donatello’s first major work in bronze,
and it betrays some inexperience with the medium. In many
ways it is a monumental version of goldsmith work, being
intricately pieced together from about a dozen separately cast
pieces. It is open at the back and so unbalanced that it cannot
presently stand on its own without support. Pieces of the statue
are certainly missing, including the figure’s right forearm, his
crozier’s crook and possibly parts of the back. The piecemeal
quality did have the advantage of allowing for greater depth
of drapery folds and protruding parts, such as the crozier and
detailed mitre. It also enabled fire gilding, meaning the entire
figure could be more efficiently covered in gold and would
weather well. Donatello probably favoured the experimental
over the practical, however, in keeping with his unorthodox
artistic character.
Donatello’s work presented a radical alternative for bronze
statuary as compared to those examples by Ghiberti, who in
1423 had just finished another bronze statue for Orsanmichele,
that of St Matthew. Ghiberti’s St Matthew is not especially
innovative but satisfied the confines of a shallow niche and
provided a gesture of dynamic movement towards an entry
door. Ghiberti’s statue is benignly straightforward while
Donatello’s St Louis is a complicated essay in abstraction. In
the latter, the lack of body definition under busy drapery and
the awkwardly mannered hands have purpose. Its greatest
visual advantage at Orsanmichele was that it was the only fully
20 Donatello, Jeremiah, 1423–5, marble.
donatello 74

gilded statue. Early light hitting the golden figure, which faced
east across a wide street, must have made a spectacular sight.
Its convoluted folds catch light and shadow and increase the
flickering effect of sunlight, unlike a smooth bronze surface,
which tends to reflect direct light more blindingly. The mitre
was partly silvered and imbedded with rock crystal and blue
enamel, all increasing the visionary nature of the image in situ,
where the statue became icon-like and the niche an altar-like
setting.15 Though with a political association, Donatello’s St
Louis would have been the only statue on Orsanmichele that
sang as an intensely spiritual figure sparkling in the rays of
divine light, and thus Donatello sacrificed realism for spirit­
uality. Its abstractness was part of its particular message of
a dedicated commune under the watchful eye of a selfless
patron saint.
The statue was moved during Donatello’s lifetime, however,
and later commentators never saw it properly and therefore
disparaged it. The Parte Guelfa’s power diminished with the
rise of the Medici, especially from 1434 onwards when Cosimo
de’ Medici returned from exile. Around 1451 the statue was
removed and the niche later sold to the Mercanzia (the mer­
chant’s court that regulated all the guilds). The St Louis was
then transferred to the facade of Santa Croce, where it made
a poor sight.
Vasari, not knowing Donatello’s original intention, called
the statue the ‘least successful of his works’ and narrates that
when it was accused by a friend of being ‘clumsy’ Donatello
replied ‘that he had made it that way on purpose, since the
Saint had been a clumsy fool to relinquish a kingdom for the
sake of becoming a friar’.16 Though youthful like the St George,
75 The Business of Art

it was never similarly celebrated, being too aloof and distant


in its portrayal. Once it was divorced from its context Vasari
and his contemporaries completely misunderstood the nature
of the statue, which was as unorthodox a work as Donatello
had yet made. Evidence of its initial success, moreover, was
that Donatello soon found himself besieged with commis­
sions to be executed in bronze.
One of these new bronzes was a reliquary bust depicting
San Rossore, cast for the church of Ognissanti in Florence
(illus. 22).17 In 1422 the saint’s head, which had been kept as
a relic in Pisa, was transferred to Florence, and the commis­
sion followed shortly thereafter. Donatello’s tax declaration
(catasto) for 1427 reveals that the friars of Ognissanti still owed
him money and that Donatello in turn owed Giovanni di
Jacopo degli Stroza for the bust’s casting. It is probable that
this same expert also cast the St Louis. Evidently things had not
gone exactly as planned, but an admirable creation resulted
nonetheless.
Donatello’s reliquary bust is cast in at least four pieces,
joined with screws.18 It should be considered an exploratory
work, and Donatello’s innovative ideas would soon be better
realized when he had a more expert collaborator for works in
bronze. These were important early steps, but he had yet to
master fuller possibilities with the medium. The San Ros­sore
bust represents abstract portraiture in the sense that it provides
a visage of the saint, but one whose actual appearance was
completely unknown since he had died over a thousand years
before, during the reign of Diocletian. The implication of
realism, still, is quite strong, and through the details Dona­tello
asks the viewer to suspend doubt for a moment and recognize
21 Donatello, St Louis of Toulouse, 1423–5, gilt bronze.
77 The Business of Art

the soldier-saint’s realistic armour, the finely described facial


hair including the intricately worked eyebrows and the idio­
syncratic nature of the face that suggests use of a live model.19
Such works are often called ‘speaking reliquaries’, and creating
a sculpture that would speak to the viewer was one of Dona­
tello’s obsessive missions, as explored more pointedly in later
work, especially the Zuccone.
The period that included these initial experiments in
bronze were uneasy times for Donatello and other sculptors

22 Donatello, Reliquary Bust of San Rossore, 1422–7, gilt bronze.


donatello 78

in Florence. For political and economic reasons, in September


1423 the Arte della Lana suspended their commissions for stat­
uary, making a few exceptions for works already in progress.20
Donatello’s collaborator, il Rosso, who had finished the statue
of Obadiah in 1422 among various other sculptures, left Florence
for Venice in 1424, at least partly to escape debts.21
With Nanni di Banco deceased, il Rosso gone and Brunel­
leschi fully engaged on constructing the dome for Florence
Cathedral, while having constantly to negotiate artistic terri­
tory with Ghiberti, Donatello achieved a pre-eminent status
in the field of sculpture. He became swamped with commis­
sions, both within Florence and from patrons in other cities.22
He consequently did something that might seem rather
unusual but which in context was perfectly logical: he formed
a long-term partnership with the artist Michelozzo di Bartolo­
meo. Though he must have hated the thought, Donatello
hereby acknowledged that his art had become a business, and
while he was unquestionably a great artist, he had little talent
or patience for managing either his personal or professional
affairs. Michelozzo was a natural manager and worked well
in partnerships. He brought expertise in bronze work and
in architecture. He was also an admirable sculptor. For these
reasons and others, the initial partnership with Michelozzo
proved to be a godsend.

partnership
In his catasto declaration of 1427, Donatello claimed to be 41
years old and supporting his mother, Orsa, his widowed older
sister, Tita, and her eighteen-year-old son Giuliano.23 Though
79 The Business of Art

catasto declarations tend to exaggerate debts and downplay


assets, Donatello appears not to have been in a strong finan­
cial state despite his copious artistic output. He lists money
owed to him for various commissions, including from the
Opera of Siena Cathedral and the friars of Ognissanti in Flo­r­­
ence. He in turn had debts to others, including substantial
obligations for works relating to Sienese commissions and
the sculptor Jacopo della Quercia. Donatello was renting a
home from Guglielmo Adimari, of an old patrician family, in
the corso degli Adimari (part of the present via dei Calzaiuoli
near the cathedral) and owed two years of back rent. This is
not the financial portrait expected of such a successful sculp­
tor. In contrast, for the same year’s catasto return Lorenzo
Ghiberti declared owning a house and workshop in the city,
a plot of land (with olive trees and a vineyard) in the country,
and an impressive 700 florins invested in government bonds.24
Even a sculptor who cared so little for wealth could see he
had created an untenable financial situation that would not
end well. There was no lack of work. On the contrary, with
obligations clearly exceeding Donatello’s available time, he
urgently needed assistance carving stone and exploring the
new medium (for him) of bronze. For financial, practical and
other reasons, Donatello thus sought a partner to help man­
age his affairs and found a faithful and talented collaborator
in the person of Michelozzo.25
In substantial ways, Michelozzo was a perfect complement
to Donatello both in terms of temperament and artistic
expertise. Michelozzo was born in 1396, making him about
ten years younger than Donatello. Historians have emphasized
his work as an architect but he was an artist of wide range
donatello 80

and accomplishment. He showed proficiency in sculpture in


a variety of media, including stone and bronze, and enjoyed
a relationship with the Florentine mint since the age of four­
teen. Furthermore, he proved to be an inspiring and efficient
collaborator, having mutually beneficial artistic relationships
over his long career with Ghiberti, Donatello, Luca della
Robbia and Maso di Bartolomeo. He was a natural manager
and diplomat and adept at negotiating the perilous caprices
of patrons, politicians and colleagues. There was little he could
not do or find a way to get done.
The business arrangement between Donatello and
Michel­­ozzo began around 1425. At that point Donatello was
overburdened, while Michelozzo, for his part, wanted separa­
tion from a working relationship with Ghiberti. Ghiberti was
not pleased, complaining in a letter to the Sienese sculptor
Giovanni Turini of ‘ingratitude’, but the two later reconciled
and Michelozzo was again working with the Ghiberti family
by 1437.26 It seemed nobody could remain estranged from
Michelozzo for long.
Partnerships were normally contracted for three years,
and the one between Donatello and Michelozzo was renewed
twice so that it lasted for a total of nine years. A partnership
brought many benefits, not least of which was greater financial
stability since each partner shared in the earnings of the other.
This created a natural incentive to assist, advise, collaborate
and otherwise act in concert for mutual professional gain. The
accounting was complicated and included several pending
commissions on each side that had been awarded before the
partnership formed, but Michelozzo was more than capable
of dealing fairly and competently with the tallying.
81 The Business of Art

The partnership provided a hedge against the unpredict­


ability of patrons and commissions since Donatello now
profited from Michelozzo’s stable salary at the mint, and
Michelozzo took a share of Donatello’s work for the cathedral.
Michelozzo was clearly the businessman of the two, writing
out all the partnership declarations and business correspond­
ence and even making out Donatello’s catasto declarations.
The partnership also allowed the artists to take on greater
capital risk and expand their operations. Over nine years the
partnership had workshops in several different locations in
Florence, and for limited periods they also kept operations
in Pisa, Prato and possibly Rome.
One tends to think of Michelozzo as the principal manager
and architect and of Donatello as the creative genius and
sculptor, but responsibilities were not so cut and dried and
never spelled out as such in documents. Works produced dur­
ing the partnership arrangement therefore present critical
complications. Clearly, some works are primarily by Donatello
and others mainly by Michelozzo, but the point of the part­
nership meant that each had a vested interest in the success of
the other. To insist on cutting the division of contribution too
finely is to mistake the nature of mutually beneficial collabora­
tion that may not manifest so distinctively in the execution.
The artistic impetus for the partnership emerged with
the opportunity to design and manufacture an elaborate tomb
honouring Baldassare Cossa, the man who had become Pope
John xxiii during the Western Schism and then antipope.
Backed financially by the Medici, during his time in power
Cossa (also spelled Coscia) elevated the priority of the Medici
bank within the papacy, exponentially increasing the wealth of
donatello 82

the family. Though Florence was ostensibly a guild republic,


in actuality the Medici increasingly controlled the city’s politics,
much enabled by this vast new wealth.
When Cossa died in 1419 his will requested burial in the
Florence Baptistery, and to assure such favour he bequeathed
money and a precious relic, a finger of St John the Baptist.
His four executors included Giovanni de’ Medici and other
Medici supporters, and for Cossa’s tomb they chose Dona­
tello and Michelozzo, two artists who were becoming ever
more entwined with the Medici family.
The cathedral’s baptistery was one of the most honoured
sites in Florence. Believed at the time to be a Roman temple
(it was actually begun in the eleventh century), it lay at the
literal and figurative heart of the city, and most children born
in Florence were baptized there.27 Its exterior doors were
then being cast in bronze by Ghiberti, and inside it boasted
extensive decoration, including its ceiling featuring the most
important mosaics in the city. Cossa’s tomb monument was
a unique opportunity to add to this artistic feast.
Donatello and Michelozzo finished the tomb by 1428 and
it bears an important place in the development of the com­
memorative funerary monument (illus. 23).28 In effect it helped
set in motion the basic parameters that continued to develop
through the Renaissance and even into the modern period
with the essential forms intact. It is grand, theatrical, and refer­
ences both Christian and classical precedents. The whole must
be credited to both artists, though there is considerable vari­
ation in the execution of its parts. The emphatically vertical
structure stands sandwiched between two pre-existing col­
umns. It reads best from the top down where one first sees
83 The Business of Art

a giant canopy suspended from a ring. The canopy opens to


reveal a stone relief of the Madonna and Child who preside
over a gilded bronze effigy of the deceased. The former pope
lies on a lion-footed bier over a sarcophagus whose inscribed
surface bears his name flanked by two putti. Descending from

23 Donatello and Michelozzo, Tomb of Baldassare Cossa, 1424–8, marble with


gilt bronze effigy.
donatello 84

the sarcophagus, Cossa’s coats of arms appear above three


personifications of virtues in high relief, and finally a platform
base bears classically inspired garland swags.
The overall architecture, with pieces stacked one atop the
other, is less in keeping with Brunelleschian principles and
Donatello’s niches at Orsanmichele, leading most critics to
credit that aspect to Michelozzo. The carving, being more
intriguing in design than execution, reveals workshop prac­
tice and involved several reliable studio assistants, probably
including Pagno di Lapo di Portigiani. Speed of execution
seems to have been a priority. One feature, nonetheless, dis­
plays palpably different characteristics from all the other parts:
the bronze image of Baldassare Cossa. It is unquestionably
by Donatello.
The medium of bronze looms ever more important for
Donatello from this point on in his career. Donatello had just
finished the gilt bronze figure of St Louis for Orsanmichele, for
which he subcontracted much of the technical work and which
he cast in pieces. Michelozzo brought a wealth of know­ledge
and experience in bronze that proved invaluable for Dona­
tello’s artistic evolution. From his years at the mint and with
Ghiberti, Michelozzo knew how to navigate various technical
challenges, from modelling to casting to finishing. The Cossa
effigy is much like a relief sculpture and more expertly cast
than anything Donatello had previously produced in bronze.
It has few highly projecting surfaces and instead the artist gives
much attention to detail. Cossa’s face in particular suggests
the specificity afforded by study from a life mask or death
mask, the latter frequently being made on the death of famous
persons. Brunelleschi’s death mask, for example, still exists.
85 The Business of Art

The realistic-looking portrayal lends Cossa’s face authenticity,


even if it is idealized. One sees other striking details in the
borders of the pillow on which Cossa’s head rests, and dec­ora­
tive motifs adorn the mitre, gloves and vestments. Donatello
gilded the whole, lending a striking visual glow to the effigy
of the deceased.
The partnership between Donatello and Michelozzo was
now working exactly as planned, with each artist lending
expertise to the other, major commissions proceeding smoothly,
and a certain stability brought to their newly linked careers.
The situation would eventually change, but the beginning
could not have been more auspicious.

the spirits of life


Bronze sculpture opened a new realm of commissions for
Donatello, and he eagerly explored its potential. He achieved
unprecedented results, and Michelozzo must be given some
credit for pouring fuel on Donatello’s creative fire in this
medium. Donatello’s reputation spread quickly, and entities
from other cities now vied for his services. The most important
opportunity came from Florence’s great rival city, Siena, which
had commenced production of the most elaborate and beau­
tifully ornamented baptismal font of the entire Renaissance
in Italy.29
The finished font for Siena’s cathedral baptistery stands
as a towering vertical structure with the contributions of parts
from many important sculptors. Its elements featured marble
and bronze, with both relief sculpture and figures in the round.
Participants included the greatest Sienese sculptor of the
donatello 86

period, Jacopo della Quercia, as well as Lorenzo Ghiberti,


Donatello and slightly lesser local names such as Turino di
Sano and his son Giovanni Turini. Siena clearly wanted to
boast of employing the best sculptors in Italy, including its
own. The sculpture commissions began around 1416, but
Dona­­tello first became involved in 1423 when, for unknown
reasons, Jacopo della Quercia transferred to Donatello respon­
sibility for one of the six narrative relief scenes that adorn the
sides of the font’s hexagonal basin. The two sculptors had a
long-standing professional relationship, Jacopo having taken
part in the 1401 competition, and he personally assisted in
the transfer of the Siena contract to Donatello.
The Sienese had to wait longer than expected for their
art. None of the sculptors made much progress until 1425,
when the cathedral workshop started demanding the return
of sums advanced. The threat of financial penalty had the
intended effect and by 1427 all but one relief was completed,
with the final panel delivered by Jacopo three years later.
Donatello executed his scene between 1425 and 1427 in
Florence and it was then couriered to Siena to be gilded and
polished. All six of the resulting reliefs are beautiful, but none
was as revolutionary as Donatello’s.
Each of the other sculptors took an individual scene and
created a type of still frame tableau, as was common practice.
These scenes are relatively straightforward, with clear and
convincing narrative moments. Donatello took another route.
He constructed a significantly more complex scene, both vis­
ually and interpretively, which contains multiple narratives
(illus. 24). Ostensibly, his scene depicts the Feast of Herod,
during which Herod was so seductively charmed by the
87 The Business of Art

dancing of his stepdaughter, Salome, that he promised her


any gift. Salome’s mother, Herodias, convinced her to ask for
the head of St John the Baptist, which was duly given. Dona­
tello’s relief simultaneously depicts at least three moments
in the story, and it questions time and narrative sequence
suggestively in an unprecedented way.30 The foreground
shows the presentation to Herod of John’s head, displayed
on a platter. The king recoils in shock towards the viewer’s
left while another group of revellers coalesces on the right.
This leaves an open area in the centre of the panel for the
viewer’s eye to travel back in space and time. The middle

24 Donatello, Feast of Herod, 1425–7, gilt bronze.


donatello 88

ground marks a visual interlude during which a musician


plays an instrument before two onlookers – a moment of
peace and sensuality between two scenes of horror. Though
we cannot see the danc­ing Salome, her presence is implied.
Donatello teases us with a dynamic tension in that we know
the dance seduces the king and leads to the death of a holy
man, yet Salome herself is absent. One must imagine the sex­
uality that inspired Herod’s desire. Reality strikes again as
the eye moves to the background where Herodias receives
the platter with the head of John the Baptist. Moreover, the
neck of the severed head is hidden by a pier, denying the
viewer any morbid satisfaction in witnessing the gore.
Donatello encases the whole in an architectural framework
composed of classical arches, but the perspecitve is intention­
ally manipulated such that the viewer must move to properly
investigate the scene. While the foreground floor pattern takes
the eye directly back into space, the arches pull the eye from
side to side as if the viewer were moving deeper inside the
architecture. These arrangements force the viewer to contin­
ually scan the detailed scene, never resting the gaze in any one
place or moving in any single direction. Altogether Donatello
creates a remarkable integration of spatial effects unique for
its time and rarely seen again.
The subsequent stage of the font’s decoration involved six
statuettes meant to stand on the corners of the basin, each
representing a Christian virtue. Donatello received commis­
sions for two of these figures, representing Faith and Hope
respectively. In 1427 he and Michelozzo wrote to Siena to con­
firm their identities, which was important because it meant
that the artists intended to design the figures with symbolism
89 The Business of Art

appropriate to their roles. In other words, the two artists had


decided that their figures would not be generic fare.
Faith (illus. 25) and Hope (illus. 26) are relatively small
sculptures, measuring about 52 cm tall (20½ in.). Donatello
conceived them as free-standing statuettes described fully in
the round, with complementary poses and countenances. Faith
reaches out and downwards with her right hand, which now
holds only a remnant of the original cross, and her left hand
grasps a chalice. She looks downwards solemnly and with her
right foot she subtly steps off her base. Hope, in contrast, brings
her hands upwards and together.31 She tilts her head skyward
and appears almost to float off her base as her spirituality
raises her upwards. Both statuettes exude powerful emotions.
Donatello’s description of physical form gives them a notable
presence, a believability and intensity. Their flowing drapery
is more controlled than that of St Louis of Toulouse and not as
linear as that represented in Cossa’s effigy; with these figures
Donatello has entered a new subtlety of execution, both expres­
sive and commanding. Many critics have noted Donatello’s
developing classicism as well as the distinct influence of
Ghiberti, but the resulting style is not derivative since he has
combined the elements into new and original forms.32
Donatello’s innovations continued with two additional
commissions for the Siena baptistery font. He made a small
door (sportello) in gilt bronze for the tabernacle, but the patrons
rejected his creation in favour of another by Giovanni Turini,
and Donatello’s work has been lost.33 He did receive payment
for his time and trouble, and it intrigues us to consider what
could have been so unusual and challenging about the door as
to make his contemporaries in Siena deem it unacceptable.
25 Donatello, Faith, 1427–9, gilt bronze.
26 Donatello, Hope, 1427–9, gilt bronze.
donatello 92

Donatello’s final works for the font consist of three


youthful nude statuettes. They joined three others made by
Giovanni Turini, for a total of six. Donatello’s figures are clas­
sically derived, and thus the beings are often called putti or,
when transposed into a Christian context, angels. But they are
actually personifications of animating spirits and can more
properly be called sprites, or spiritelli. They are the embod­
iments of abstract concepts such as sensation, inspiration
and love.34
Donatello investigated numerous themes and stylistic
types through his art, but throughout his career he showed a
particular focus on youth, especially in the form of such spir­
itelli. There exists a host of spiritelli attributed to Donatello
and his circle with good plausibility, many of them meant for
domestic interiors and others that formed parts of fountains
or other exterior adornments. These include various forms of
gleeful micturating putti – which are really water sprites who
produce a pure emission, playful sprites that blow pinwheels,
sprites that hold fantastic sea creatures and others that evoke
the essence of love.35 They go by various names (putti, cupids,
angels, bambini and so on), but inevitably they simply augur
positive themes such as good health, fortune, love, fertility,
abundance and wealth. Too often forgotten is that a main
purpose was to elicit joy in the viewer, and prompt smiles
and chuckles in the process. They appealed to the emotions
as much as to the mind.
Donatello’s figures for the Siena font refer to music, dance
and song. Though inspired by classical prototypes, for the
first time since antiquity the spiritelli do not merely decorate
but engage as active participants in divine revelry and function
93 The Business of Art

as conduits to spiritual ecstasy. One spiritello (illus. 27) dances


a familiar choreography that Botticelli would also copy for his
dancing graces in the Primavera. A trumpet player (illus. 28)
blows an instrument recognizable from many pictures of
heaven and the Last Judgment. The third spiritello strikes a
tambourine (illus. 29) and opens his mouth to sing. Together
they resonate with ideas of heavenly bliss.
These spiritelli have been dubbed the first true free-standing
figurines of the Renaissance for good reason.36 Each stands on
a shell of convex surface. Thus the sprites balance precariously
on a curve, which further energizes their poses. They all stand
in variations of classical contrapposto, but not statically in
the least. Of all the figures on the font, these sprites would
be the most widely influential because they symbolized what
was at the heart of the Renaissance – the classical reborn into
the Christian. What followed in Renaissance art were endless
variations of the type, through sprites that referred to the
arts, natural elements, love and more. These figures became
a staple of production for Donatello and even more so for
generations of followers.
Donatello was well regarded in Siena though he executed
most of his work in Florence. He visited the city frequently
and was on good terms with Jacopo della Quercia and Gio­
vanni Turini. In 1429 he travelled to Siena to act as godfather
to the daughter of a Sienese goldsmith, Tommaso di Paolo di
Vannuccio.37 As with his colleagues in Florence, there was an
attitude of competitive respect that Donatello shared with
his Sienese counterparts.
One final work in Siena from this period deserves mention.
In 1426 the bishop of Grosseto, Giovanni Pecci, died shortly
donatello 94

after making a will that called for his eventual burial in Siena
Cathedral. The commission for a bronze tomb slab went to
Donatello sometime in the following years.38 This commission
put Donatello in direct comparison with Ghiberti, who had
recently made a tomb slab for Fra Leonardo Dati in the Floren­
tine church of Santa Maria Novella, the same church with
Brunelleschi’s wooden Crucifix and Masaccio’s Trinity fresco.
Ghiberti’s commemorative slab is rather static and the effigy
looks squashed from any viewpoint. In contrast, Donatello took
viewpoint as a fundamental starting position. The Pecci slab

27 Donatello, Dancing Spiritello, 1429, bronze.


28 Donatello, Spiritello Playing the Trumpet, 1429, bronze.
95 The Business of Art

in Siena Cathedral (illus. 30) originally rested conspicuously


in front of the high altar, and by manipulating the forms of
the relief Donatello created an ideal viewpoint for a viewer
standing at the foot of the effigy.39 The effect is unprecedented
three-dimensionality. Even the soles of Pecci’s shoes are seen
from this angle, and the whole likely evoked the contemporary

29 Donatello, Spiritello Playing the Tambourine, 1429, bronze.


donatello 96

practice of viewing the deceased during the funeral ceremony


before burial. In effect Pecci remains eternally on view in a
true-to-life fashion even to this day.

30 Donatello, Tomb Slab of Giovanni Pecci, c. 1428–30, bronze.


97 The Business of Art

sculptur e as painting: schiacciato r elief


More by circumstance than by design, Donatello and Michel­
ozzo were becoming specialists in funerary monuments.
The Cossa monument had established a new type, and on its
heels Donatello and Michelozzo received two similar com­
missions. One was for the humanist and apostolic secretary
Barolomeo Aragazzi, whose tomb was intended for the Pieve
of Monte­pulciano. The tomb has since been dismantled and
none of the remaining pieces much enlightens our under­
standing of Donatello, but within the partnership he had a
vested interest in its creation between about 1427 and 1438.
Michelozzo clearly took the lead on this commission as well
as on a concurrent one for the tomb of Cardinal Rainaldo
Brancacci, who died in 1427. Brancacci was from Naples,
though he was closely connected with Baldassare Cossa as
well as with the Medici and Brancacci families of Florence.
Brancacci’s tomb was intended for the church of Sant’Angelo
a Nilo in Naples.
Credited primarily to Michelozzo with input from Dona­
tello, the Brancacci tomb bears two features of note. The first
concerns business practices. The tomb was created in Pisa and
its parts were then shipped to Naples. Pisa offered much easier
and less costly shipping while still being close enough to
Florence for Michelozzo and Donatello to exert quality con­
trol over a studio there. The commission progressed quickly
so they did not have to support the extra studio for long. The
partners were thinking like efficient businessmen. In fact, they
jointly owned a mule they declared as a business expense,
and in 1426 Donatello bought a boat to help ship stone from
Carrara to Pisa. In Florence they also employed a studio hand,
donatello 98

a boy named Rinaldo di Giovanni Ghini, who was fourteen


years old in 1427 and lived in the house of Michelozzo. 40
The second item of note is a sculptural passage. Despite the
rather workmanlike craftsmanship on most of the Bran­cacci
monument, one detail, a marble relief, shows the hallmarks of
Donatello and is a virtuoso piece that only he could have con­
tributed. This schiacciato relief features the Assumption of the
Virgin (illus. 31) and was inserted into the most visible section
of the monument, just above eye level.41 In the scene, a melan­
choly Virgin slumps on a throne that appears to emerge from
a background composed entirely of clouds. Angels swoop
towards her, treating the clouds like fluid waves bearing mass
and weight that move due to their presence. One muscular
angel supports the throne from below, with foot perched on
the frame’s edge and arms raised in reverent effort. Other
angels hover nearby, and smaller heads are just perceptible as
if an infinite number of angelic beings continue to multiply
in the heavenly realm.
Donatello continued to explore the potential of relief
sculpture both in bronze and marble to spectacular effect. In
fact, the most elaborate relief from this period is a long hori­
zontal work (40.9 cm × 114.1 cm) showing the Ascension
with Christ giving the keys to St Peter (illus. 32).42 Its original
intended location remains unknown but the Brancacci
chapel in Florence has been plausibly hypothesized. By 1492
the relief formed part of the collection of Lorenzo de’ Medici
as a framed and precious object. One certainty is that it visu­
ally cements a continued artistic connection with Masaccio,
who was working in the Brancacci chapel until 1427 or 1428
and had a close friendship with Donatello as well as with
99 The Business of Art

Brunelleschi. Their association is documented in 1426 when


Donatello, then in Pisa, twice collected payments for Masaccio,
who was working on an altarpiece intended for the church
of Santa Maria del Carmine in that city. 43 Not surprisingly,
Mas­accio’s painting features a Donatellesque Madonna.
Though the specifics of their interaction remain elusive, the
synergies are unquestioned. Masaccio’s most famous narrative
is the Tribute Money in the Brancacci chapel, and many simila­r­­
ities exist with Donatello’s Ascension relief in the disposition
of figures, attention to plastic form, and even the description
of clouds and trees. The two artists were clearly in fruitful
conversation.
Donatello’s Ascension relief offers a wealth of details and
techniques otherwise found only in painting. For example, in
just the few centimetres on the relief’s far left one notices a

31 Donatello, Assumption of the Virgin, 1427–8, marble.


donatello 100

tiny village in the distance, trees in perspective and two angels,


one clapping while the other embraces him with an arm around
the back. Theirs is such a human action it seems palpably real
and derived from spontaneous expressions of camaraderie.
Additional angels appear in the sky amid billowing clouds,
lending an ethereal presence. The main figures converge within
a naturalistic landscape, forming a circular disposition around
a hovering image of Christ, and the whole reflects the influence
of Brunelleschi’s methods of rendering perspective.
Donatello had no peer in the carving of low-relief marble
panels, and his compositions came into high demand. Many
con­cerned the theme of the Madonna and Child. These inde­
pendent panels remain undocumented, though, and extant
examples are often hopefully attributed, but two stand out

32 Donatello, The Ascension with Christ Giving the Keys to St Peter, c. 1426–8,
marble.
101 The Business of Art

as the most likely to have been carved by Donatello. Similar


to the Assumption relief in style and mood is a small relief now
in Boston called the Madonna of the Clouds (illus. 33).44 Again,
the figures come to life when seen from slightly below. The
Virgin cradles the Christ Child with her left arm while draw­
ing up her gown with her right. Angels hover, and one in the
upper right moves out of the frame, thereby implying extended
space.
The other marble relief from this period was carved slightly
earlier. Called the Pazzi Madonna (illus. 34), it is virtually undis­
puted as a masterpiece of the type, but it deals with different
concerns.45 Whereas the Boston relief transports viewers to
a spiritual realm, the Pazzi Madonna places the spiritual in the
here and now. The relief appeals to one’s sense of logic and
donatello 102

reason by insisting on a definite viewpoint, with a vanishing


point located in the centre of the lower parapet rather than
the centre of the relief. From this perspective the relief opens
up as a realistic window into a three-dimensional world. No
haloes adorn the figures, no angels distract and no extensive
narrative intervenes, other than that implied by a mother
showing love to her child. When the relief was seen correctly
in a domestic interior the intimacy of the portrayal must have
been a startling display of reality and spirituality in the early
Renaissance.

33 Donatello, Madonna of the Clouds, c. 1425–30, marble.


103 The Business of Art

With the workshop humming under Donatello and Michel­


ozzo, these Madonna and Child compositions could now be
produced in quantity and in diverse media. Ghiberti had a
significant operation manufacturing similar items. Between
these and related studios, Florence became flooded with
sculpted Madonna and Child reliefs in bronze, stone, terra­­
c­­otta, stucco and other media. At times they were painted or
gilded, and what had once been the staple of painters now
became a speciality also of sculptors. A later generation of art­
ists would produce copious numbers of these images, with
surviving examples primarily in the style of Donatello. These

34 Donatello, Pazzi Madonna, c. 1420–25, marble.


donatello 104

sculptors included Desiderio da Settignano, Antonio Rossellino,


Bene­detto da Maiano, Verrocchio and many others.

pitfalls, disruptions and opportunities


The Donatello and Michelozzo partnership proved profitable
and mutually beneficial, but sustainability eventually became
an issue. The arrangement encouraged collaboration, but
their responsibility for individual projects was not equal. Left
to his own devices, Donatello was clearly the less reliable
partner. Though the partnership dissolved in 1434, there was
never a falling out between the two, and later in life Michel­
ozzo would come to Donatello’s aid. But in the early 1430s
Donatello’s fickleness, in spite of his unquestionable genius,
came to the fore.
The commission that exposed these difficulties began in
1428 for the city of Prato. Prato held an important relic, the
Sacra Cintola, or holy belt (essentially a girdle), that the Virgin
Mary gave to St Thomas as physical proof of her Assumption
into heaven. It was displayed each year from an external pulpit
on the corner of the church of Santo Stefano (then called the
Pieve and now the cathedral). Donatello and Michelozzo
received a commission to construct an innovative new pulpit
for the church’s facade (illus. 35). 46 Thanks to diligent record-
keeping by the Pratese officials, the commission is unusually
well documented and reveals in true scale the exasperation
and frustration of dealing with Donatello when he was not
fully invested in a project.
Things began smoothly enough. Brunelleschi showed up in
Prato in 1429, probably to advise on the unusual architectural
105 The Business of Art

issues. He had previously consulted on the situation as early


as 1412. The pulpit’s impressively original design features a
large round canopy surmounting a pulpit curving around one
corner of the building. It allows large numbers of citizens to
congregate below to see and hear the celebrations. The initial
structural work, probably supervised by Michelozzo, proceeded
without issue and beautiful architectural details complement
the whole from below. The sculptural body of the pulpit was
another matter. The design called for a series of seven convex
panels inserted into the rounded form of the pulpit, and these
were primarily the responsibility of Donatello. To oversee the
on-site work, Donatello and Michelozzo installed a workshop
supervisor in Prato, Pagno di Lapo Portigiani, who had prob­
ably helped them with the Cossa tomb. Pagno specialized in
stone and supervised a team of sculptors to work on the
mouldings and reliefs. Later, when needing bronze expertise
for the pulpit’s roof, the partnership appointed Maso di
Bartolomeo to oversee operations. In concept, the arrange­
ment should have worked well, but Donatello proved dilatory
in seeing to the reliefs, which were the crucial decorative
elements.
Donatello did not delay due to laziness. On the contrary,
he remained exceedingly busy, but for some reason the Prato
commission fell low on his priority list. Donatello’s wherea­
bouts are hard to pin down in the early 1430s. In 1430 both
he and Brunelleschi arrived in Lucca, on assignment from
Flo­­rence, and spent two months supervising construction of
a river wall (a dyke or levee) for military purposes. Unfor­tun­­
ately, it did not work as planned. Later in the year Donatello
visited antiquities near Pisa, Lucca and Rome, which also
donatello 106

implies a purposeful avoidance of Prato. By the end of 1430


he was in Rome, where he spent considerable time for the
next three years. These Roman years had a different character
from those spent there in his youth with Brunelleschi as
‘treasure seekers’, though his interest in the wonders of clas­
sical antiquity remained intense and is well documented. This
time Rome presented opportunities that were drying up in
Florence. Due to political turbulence and a war with Lucca,
money was tight in Florence and the cathedral overseers felt
strapped since they bore considerable obligations to pay for
military architecture. Brunelleschi saw his salary slashed in
half for his work on the cathedral’s dome and his workers
fared far worse. New commissions of significant scale would
be hard to come by in Florence.
An important development for Donatello during this
period was his expanding relationship with certain patrons,
particularly members of the Martelli and Medici families, who
were closely linked through business and artistic patronage.47
Vasari erroneously claimed that Donatello was brought up in
the house of Roberto Martelli, probably confusing the hospi­
tality that the Florentine patron showed Donatello in Rome in
the 1430s. Roberto worked for the Medici bank in various loca­
tions, eventually becoming branch manager in Rome. Roberto’s
siblings served the Medici bank in Venice, Pisa and Ancona,
and the two families assisted each other in contacting artists,
managing accounts and overseeing commissions. These power­
ful patrons, especially the Medici, would be crucial for the rest
of Donatello’s career. It was probably in this period that Dona­
tello worked on a marble statue of David, which he reportedly
gifted to Roberto Martelli, and which features in the background
107 The Business of Art

of a sixteenth-century picture of Ugolino Martelli painted by


Bronzino. The inconsistently carved work may have been re­
worked from an ancient block and even altered after Donatello’s
intervention, but there is no doubting the high regard the family
had for it or that the theme of a victorious David conformed
nicely to Florentine and Medicean propaganda that the Martelli
were eager to support.48

35 Donatello and Michelozzo, exterior pulpit of Prato Cathedral, 1428–38.


36 Donatello, Tabernacle, c. 1432–3, marble.
109 The Business of Art

During his stay in Rome, Donatello was constantly badg­


ered by officials from Prato, and various members of the Medici
family lent voice to vouch for him and assist with financial
matters. In April 1433 the Prato officials sent Pagno to Rome
to retrieve Donatello. It seems to have had a positive effect,
and both Donatello and Roberto Martelli left Rome later that
year. Roberto went to manage business affairs in Basel while
Donatello returned to Florence.
Donatello left two works in Rome that are extant there.
July 1432 saw the death of Giovanni Crivelli, archdeacon of
Aquileia, and Donatello carved a tomb slab for the deceased,
which was placed in Santa Maria in Aracoeli. Damaged and
worn, and traditional in style, it would be a dubious attrib­
ution were it not for an inscription identifying Donatello as
its author. It did have the effect, nonetheless, of publicly
intro­­ducing Donatello’s style to a Roman audience. The more
consequential work was a tabernacle for St Peter’s, now situ­
ated in the Sagrestia dei Beneficiati (illus. 36).49 We lack hard
evidence of a Roman studio, and it is possible Donatello
carved the works in Florence and had them shipped to Rome.
The tabernacle displays an authentically classical architectural
vocabulary populated by youthful angels in various engaging
poses indicative of Donatello’s mind if not always his hand.
A relief at the apex of the tabernacle serves as the highlight,
where flanking angels pull back a canopy to reveal the Entomb­
ment of Christ. Joseph of Arimethea and Nicodemus lower the
body into a sarcophagus while mourners react to the episode
with intense emotion. The work proves that this type of
crushed relief still had power, but Donatello would soon turn
in a new direction.
donatello 110

Back in Florence, Donatello faced new challenges of both


personal and public natures. The partnership with Michelozzo
had been mutually beneficial, but due to personalities and
politics it had essentially run its most useful course. In 1434
the partnership was allowed to expire and the two artists went
their own ways, the friendship apparently still intact. Dona­
tello began renting a house with a studio from Cosimo and
Lorenzo di Giovanni de’ Medici. He still needed to finish
the Prato pulpit reliefs, but, despite this obligation, political
disruption and more compelling commissions continued to
distract him. The Prato situation would not end satisfactorily,
and this must be accepted rather than excused because, in
addition to achievements, failings also help define an artist.
three

Adorning the City of


Florence

F
lorence in the early 1430s was a city in political tur­
moil. Though it was ostensibly a republic, Cosimo
de’ Medici had consolidated such power that in
September of 1433 adversaries had him imprisoned and then
exiled. Cosimo went first to Padua and then Venice before
changes in the political situation, and various financial crises,
brought him back to Florence in 1434 with increased power
and influence. By contemporary accounts, Michelozzo accom­
panied Cosimo abroad, and this loyalty certainly earned him
favours. Michelozzo became the unequivocally preferred Medi­­
cean architect, employed on many of the most important
building projects of the subsequent decades.
Donatello also entered more emphatically into the Medici
sphere of patronage. Though their partnership had expired,
Donatello and Michelozzo remained closely allied, especially
through the Medici, and there is no indication that their per­
sonal and professional relationships remained anything but
amicable. Cosimo used his extensive artistic patronage for
various purposes, and both Michelozzo and Donatello would
become primary beneficiaries of his largesse.
donatello 112

speaking sculptur es
The decade between 1434 and 1444 became one of Dona­
tello’s most productive. Unfortunately, few works other than
the most public commissions are well documented. Many
important pieces are attributed and dated by their relation­
ship to the fixed works, but in reality Donatello was by no
means an artist with a linear artistic development. Com­­
mis­sions often overlapped, works once initiated were often
delayed for long periods, and our understanding of the
nature of his workshop assistance remains incomplete. Never­
the­­less, recognizing these limitations, most of Donatello’s
more significant works can be put into a viable context of
artistic activity.
At the start of the 1430s the elephant in the room was the
Prato pulpit. Though the Prato contract had stipulated com­
pletion by 1429, Donatello did not even begin carving the
main reliefs until 1434, and they were considered finished
only in 1438. Cosimo de’ Medici had become involved by 1433,
and both protected and prodded Donatello on the matter
even before his exile. The Prato situation needed resolution
but, unfortunately for the insistent and hopeful Pratesi, other
commissions in Florence soon complicated the picture.
Again the Operai of Florence Cathedral devised ambitious
new plans for the cathedral’s embellishment that included
Donatello. The sculptor had already contributed significantly
to the exterior decoration of the building and, though it was
still unfinished (one can argue that it was never completely
finished), the Operai now focused renewed attention on its
interior. They initiated a project to construct two new organ
lofts. The first would be placed over the north sacristy and
113 Adorning the City of Florence

was awarded to Luca della Robbia by 1431. The other would


go above the south sacristy, and in 1433 Donatello received
this commission with the recognition that his work would be
compared to Luca’s. The Operai deliberately cultivated compe­
tition by authorizing more money for Donatello – 50 rather
than 40 florins per relief – if his finished work was more
beautiful than Luca’s. Donatello and Luca were friends. Both
sculptors admired the work of Nanni di Banco and worked
profitably with Michelozzo. Their rivalry was a good-natured
one and would continue in future years.1
These creations are often called cantorie or choir lofts due
to the singing and dancing figures that populate the reliefs.
Both structures have been dismantled and subsequently re­
stored numerous times, beginning in the seventeenth century,
and thus mostly but inexactly mimic their original appear­
ances.2 Luca followed a traditional format in creating ten
separate relief panels featuring musicians, singers and dancers
(illus. 37). They illustrate Psalm 150 (‘Praise the Lord’ or Laudate
Dominum), whose opening lines are inscribed as frieze decor­
ation on the structure’s front. The psalm describes praising
the Lord with trumpets, the lute and harp, tambourine and
dance, strings and pipe, and sounding cymbals, all of which
Luca effectively depicts in the scenes. These square panels rest
between pilasters on the upper organ level and between
supporting consoles below. They subtly blend heavenly and
earthly as the angelic figures project off the panels in fairly
high relief so as to be reasonably visible by a viewer standing
far below, thus implying mutual participation in praising the
spiritual through music and dance. In a sign of artistic synergy,
adding to Luca’s cantoria, Donatello contributed two gilded
donatello 114

bronze spiritelli holding candles, which offered further visual


accents to the work.3 The light from their candles would have
flickered off their fine golden surfaces, making one wonder
whether they even distracted the eye from Luca’s reliefs, a
competitive trick that would not have been beyond Donatello’s
wily personality.
Donatello’s own cantoria (illus. 38) takes each reasonable
artistic assumption of Luca and reveals its limitation.
Donatello does not provide separate individual panels for the
main body of the loft itself. He illustrates no single passage
of text. Instead, he makes us witnesses to an active celebration,

37 Luca della Robbia, Cantoria, 1431–8, marble.


115 Adorning the City of Florence

highlighting the physicality of dance, its visual beauty and the


spiritual ecstasy that church music might inspire. Donatello
dispensed with the idea of separating the individual relief
panels (though indeed several are pieced together) and instead
creates a continuous frieze of action along the exterior upper
surface of the loft. The angels form a troupe of revellers who
glide in a narrow space between exterior columns and the
mosaic-lined wall of the loft itself, making the organ space
seem like the innermost chamber (naos) of a classical Greek
temple. The dancers, here transformed into Christian spirits,
perform in this space between columns and naos (called the
pteroma), at times seeming to materialize by emerging through
the mosaic-lined wall itself. They float above a ground of

38 Donatello, Cantoria, 1433–9, marble with gold and mosaic inlay.


donatello 116

vegetal ornament – leaves, fruits and nuts – which emphasizes


their intercessory role between heaven and earth, and their
actions proclaim that music and dance can help one experi­
ence the divine. There had been nothing remotely comparable
to this frieze of dancers since the passing of the classical age
(illus. 39).
The supporting unit consists of five consoles, beautifully
adorned with floral motifs, and the spaces between are filled
with two reliefs of festively paired sprites and two panels with
bronze heads, based on antique prototypes and mounted on
porphyry. 4 The ordinary compartmentalized nature of the
support contrasts the extraordinary and unified activity in the
loft’s frieze above. Studio assistance makes itself evident, even
between the right and left sides of the loft, but the quality

39 Donatello, detail of Cantoria (illus. 38).


117 Adorning the City of Florence

control is of a high order. Aside from carvers, other artisans


contributed gilding and Brunelleschi even helped procure
proper stone. Everything comes together under Donatello’s
direction in a multi-media unity of innovative style and spiri­
tual substance of the type especially admired in the Baroque
and called a bel composto.
What astonishing disappointment must have been felt by
the officials from Prato when they saw this work finished in
1439, just a year after their own project was essentially com­
pleted. Donatello’s Florence cantoria displayed all the genius
they wanted for their pulpit, which celebrated one of the
greatest relics in all of Tuscany, the Sacra Cintola. Instead,
Donatello delivered to Prato something of significant promise
in its overall scheme, with its panels of celebrating spiritelli, but
showing ambivalent attention to the details of its execution.
Most unfortunate is the evident overreliance on assistants for
the carving, which too often displays little of Donatello’s own
fine dexterity with the chisel despite a revised agreement in
1434 demanding his own hand (illus. 40). The pulpit reliefs
have also suffered from deterioration from the elements due
to their outdoor display over five centuries, making comparison
to the cantoria that much more disadvantageous.
Donatello had whetted the appetite of his Pratesi com­
missioners by designing a classicizing capital for the underside
of the pulpit.5 Brought to fruition by Michelozzo in 1433 and
later gilded, it shows playful spiritelli of various sizes and poses,
including one who peeks down at the others as if emerging
from the pulpit itself to see what is transpiring (illus. 41). If
this were any indication of Donatello’s intentions, anticipa­
tion of the marbles would have been great indeed. But their
donatello 118

production was clearly Donatello’s own responsibility, and


without Michelozzo’s supervisory assistance the sculptures
due from Donatello lagged in every way.
In plan, the seven Prato panels read as seven individual
reliefs separated by paired pilasters in a circular arrangement
circumscribing the southwest corner of the church. They again
feature dancing spiritelli similar to those Donatello designed
for his cantoria in Florence and there are definite passages of
artistic inspiration. Playfulness and joy emerge at welcome
moments, as figures challenge the confines of their frames
and bustle with frenetic energy, but in execution they too often
seem perfunctory rather than committed. The mosaic-like

40 Donatello and Assistants, detail of exterior pulpit of Prato Cathedral


(illus. 35), 1433–8, marble with mosaic inlay.
119 Adorning the City of Florence

background, as seen in the cantoria, lends an ethereal and time­


less quality to their appearance and must have sparkled nicely
in the outdoor setting. Overall the figures remain mostly dis­
passionate spectacles to be observed rather than joined, and
this is where the Florence cantoria calls the viewer infinitely
closer, because to miss the confluence of details would be to
miss a moment of artistic grace.
Constant bitterness poisoned the air of the Prato officials,
with one expense account from 1436 ending with, ‘he made a
fool of us’.6 Donatello and Michelozzo must have felt some
guilt, and twenty years later they sent an extraordinary letter
to Prato respectfully offering their services to make right any
deficiencies.7 The offer was ignored.

41 Donatello and Michelozzo, capital from exterior pulpit of Prato


Cathedral (illus. 35), c. 1433, gilt bronze.
donatello 120

The Prato officials were not the only ones to be disap­


pointed by Donatello’s dilatory ways. The Operai at Florence
Cathedral also had their share of dashed hopes. Most notably,
in 1437 Donatello signed a contract to make two sets of bronze
doors for the cathedral sacristies. He received money, assis­
tance and materials, but he accomplished little before leaving
for Padua about seven years later. One door was eventually
executed by his friends Michelozzo, Luca della Robbia and
Maso di Bartolomeo, surely with Donatello’s approval. Dona­
tello retained the other door commission, but it remained
unfinished (if even begun) at his death. As late as 1459 the
Operai still hopefully referred to him as master of the sacristy
doors, but it was never to be.
In 1439 Donatello also received the commission to design
marble altars for two of the fifteen chapels that surround the
cathedral’s crossing, and he consulted on obtaining coloured
stones for the new choir.8 The Operai eventually transferred
the chapel reliefs to Luca della Robbia, following Donatello’s
model, but the works were never fully completed as planned.
As for the choir, we hear no more of Donatello’s involvement.
Despite his unquestioned talent, Donatello’s pattern of delay­
ing or abandoning commissions was not confined to the Prato
pulpit and only became more pronounced. His bad habits
were further enabled in subsequent years by patrons growing
ever more desperate for even the chance to receive a signifi­
cant work by the artist.
Donatello did, however, complete an additional commis­
sion for the cathedral complex that ranks among his most
famous figures. Made for the campanile, and complementing
his other statues on that structure, this statue depicts the
121 Adorning the City of Florence

prophet Habakkuk (illus. 42), but due to its distinctive head


it has been known since the Renaissance by the nickname
Zuccone (literally ‘Big Pumpkin’ or more commonly ‘Pumpkin
Head’).9 In January 1434 Donatello received money for the
statue in progress, and further payments continued until
1436, when it was finished. Vasari considered it Donatello’s
finest work, characterizing it as ‘more beautiful than anything
else he ever did’.
The admiration and affection for the Zuccone stem from
the realistic depiction. Around 1550 the chronicler Giovanni
Battista Gelli wrote about the lifelike nature of the statue,
even claiming it was a portrait of Giovanni di Barduccio Cheri­­
chini, though this is unlikely since Cherichini was a political
adversary of the Medici who died in 1416.10 More insightfully,
Gelli also said of the statue that it ‘seems to lack only the
power of speech’. Gelli continues, ‘Donatello was aware of
this too, according to an assistant of his who was present when
he carved that figure, he kept saying, “Speak! Speak!”’11 Vasari,
as usual, embellished the story, having Donatello shout at the
statue, ‘Speak, speak or I’ll give you dysentery.’12 In effect, Vasari
has Donatello threatening Zuccone with eternal discomfort if
he would not confirm to be alive.
The issue of being lifelike is at the heart of the work – we
might be fooled into thinking, if only for a moment, that the
statue can talk – and fidelity to nature resonates as a con­
stant acclamation of Donatello’s art. Bartolomeo Fazio, in
his De viris illustribus (On Illustrious Men) of 1456, writes that
Donatello ‘seems to form faces that live, and to be approach­
ing very near to the glory of the ancients’.13 Great art has the
power to suspend disbelief, making the unreal seem real.
42 Donatello, Habakkuk (Zuccone), 1427–36, marble.
123 Adorning the City of Florence

Zuccone’s lean body appears sturdy and sinewy. He tilts his


head down as if to converse with the viewer. He is not actually
bald, but the description of hair is carved only lightly upon
the scalp and from a vantage point far below is practically
invisible. More clear is the facial expression, with open mouth
deeply incised and teeth visible from close up, a prominent
nose (now chipped), and the furrowed brow of someone deep
in reflection, seeming almost in pain from emotional turmoil.
Donatello’s depiction has a timelessness about it, both reflec­
tive of the here and now and believable as a description of a
prophet who lived in the distant past. It evokes empathy for
the prophet’s suffering because the prophet seems so much
like us. This made it unusually powerful and relevant in an
age focused more and more on an art of believability and on
creations that seem an extension of real existence.
With the Zuccone, Donatello cemented his reputation as
having no equal in carving life-size figures from marble. In
fact, in typical Donatello fashion, this would be among the last
major free-standing figures he would make in stone. His com­
petitive nature drove him to other media and other themes,
as would the nature of future patronage. One such new chal­
lenge appeared through a commission for a stained-glass
window for the cathedral and put him in direct com­pe­­tition
with the formidable Ghiberti. Ghiberti was in constant entan­
glements with Brunelleschi over work at the cathedral and
had once employed the young Donatello. Donatello had
clearly developed a contrasting artistic sensibility and may
have expressed a low estimation of Ghiberti’s art if the fol­
lowing anecdote is to be believed. The story goes that, after
Ghiberti sold an unproductive property called Lepricino:
donatello 124

‘Donatello was asked what was the best thing – meaning in


sculpture – Lorenzo had ever done; Donatello answered:
“Selling Lepricino.”’14 The two men had implicitly competed
through their respective contributions at Orsanmichele, the
Siena baptistery font and other venues. This competition
would be more direct. The arena, moreover, would play out
not in sculpture but through design.

the art of design


Drawing and, more broadly, design, were understood to be
at the heart of good art. The Italian word disegno denotes both.
One could not paint, sculpt or design buildings without a
good sense of disegno. Pomponius Gauricus, in his 1504 book
De sculptura (On Sculpture), claims that Donatello advised
his students as follows: ‘the whole art of sculpture could be
taught with one word: “Disegnate!” [draw!]’15 Unfortunately,
there are no surviving drawings convincingly attributed to
Donatello.16
In 1433 the cathedral Operai decided to create a stained-
glass window for the east end of the building. It is one of eight
windows that pierce the drum supporting Brunelleschi’s dome,
and this particular window would, in effect, be the most visible
work of art for all congregants when looking down the nave
of the church towards the high altar. Its theme was the Coron­
ation of the Virgin, and the cathedral is in fact dedicated to
Mary as Santa Maria del Fiore (Holy Mary of the Flower).
Two designated officials initially chose a design submitted by
Ghiberti, but the next year found them considering one by
Donatello. The decision was of such importance that outside
125 Adorning the City of Florence

consultants were called in and they included intellectuals,


theologians and painters.17 Eventually the Operai judged Dona­­
tello’s design more honourable and magnificent (or more
appropriate and beautiful) than Ghiberti’s. Though the huge
window, 3.8 m in diameter (12½ ft), has suffered over the
years, with much colour and detail lost, it impressed with its
artful simplicity (illus. 43). Against a blue background, Christ
crowns Mary queen of heaven while surrounded by a circle of
winged seraph heads. Nothing distracts from the protagonists,
where bodies and action are easily legible from a great distance,
especially with the light rising from the east whereby the holy
figures seem to hover in a timeless, spaceless dimension.
Donatello received 18 florins for his window design for
Florence Cathedral while Ghiberti had earlier received only
15. Greater artistry evidently translated into money. Two glass
specialists took the design and transformed it into the actual
stained-glass window. Meanwhile, another name of impor­
tance emerges from the documents as rendering paid assistance
– Paolo Uccello, who later received commissions for addi­
tional cathedral windows.18 Uccello was a leading painter in
Florence and an expert in perspective. His obsession with
perspective was such that Vasari claims he would stay in his
study all night and that when Uccello’s wife called the painter
to bed, he longingly lamented, ‘Oh what a sweet thing is this
perspective.’
Vasari describes Uccello as a sensitive man, but exagger­
ates Uccello’s overreaction when criticized by Donatello in
the following story. In the main market in Florence, known as
the Mercato Vecchio, stood a church dedicated to St Thomas.
Paolo Uccello received the commission to paint a scene of
donatello 126

the Doubting Thomas on its facade. When Donatello saw


that Uccello’s scaffolding affected undue secrecy he asked the
painter what he was covering, and Uccello told his friend he
would have to wait and see. When Uccello finally finished the
work and took down the scaffolding, Donatello commented,
‘Now that it’s time to cover it you’re revealing it.’ This deri­
sive comment must have been meant as tongue in cheek and
taken as such, for when Paolo’s son was born, in 1451, the

43 Donatello, Coronation Window, designed in 1434 and completed in 1438,


stained glass.
127 Adorning the City of Florence

child received the name Donato, and one likes to think it was
in honour of both the painter’s father (called Dono) and his
good friend Donatello.19
In the same market area as Uccello’s mural Donatello
created a work, now lost, that had a significant resonance
during the Renaissance. It depicted a figure of abundance,
called Dovizia, which translates roughly as ‘wealth’ in a civic
sense.20 It symbolized the city’s prosperity and charity, as well
as the peaceful trade of plentiful food bought and sold in the
market. In effect, Dovizia was the personification of Florence
herself, or as the citizens believed the city to be. Donatello
based the figure on ancient Roman precedent, such as the
personified imagery of Alimenta, the symbol of the Roman state
charity instituted by the Emperor Trajan. Donatello’s Dovizia
was thus among the first overt Renaissance expressions of
classical form and content in a statue that was not overtly
Judaeo-Christian.
The market where Dovizia stood was located in an area
destroyed in the nineteenth century to make way for the
present Piazza della Repubblica. It had been the site of the
ancient Roman forum now transformed into a centre of
commerce. In 1429 an ancient column was relocated from a
position near the campanile to the market entry and Donatello
then received the commission to make the statue of Dovizia
to stand atop this column. The column stood as an impor­
tant marker but also became the site of spectacle when
condemned prisoners were chained to it for public display.
Donatello’s Dovizia therefore became one of the more visible
outdoor statues in the city. Instead of marble, Donatello used
a softer stone, pietra di macigno, probably because it was local
donatello 128

and carried civic importance.21 Unfortunately, the statue


deteriorated over the centuries until being replaced around
1720. Its remnants are lost.
The Dovizia can be dated to about 1428–30, in part by way
of a play written around 1450. The relevant passage concerns
a fictional account of King Nebuchadnezzar, who desires the
greatest sculptor to create a gold statue of him. The king sum­
mons Donatello, who declares, ‘I must depart soon because
I have to do the Pulpit of Prato . . . but I must also do the
Dovizia for the market that is to be placed on the column.’22
By this time the delay in the Prato pulpit was infamous and
probably even humorous to many, excepting the Pratesi. The
significance of the contemporary Dovizia, however, must not
be underestimated. We know Dovizia’s appearance through the
many copies and variants it inspired as well as through paint­
ings of the market. Judging from the replacement, the original
statue was about 2.35 m tall (about 7 ft). The copies agree
that Dovizia held a fruit-filled cornucopia in her left hand and
with her right hand balanced a basket of fruit atop her head.
In effect she represented an early advertisement for a great
place of commerce whose prosperity inspired civic pride as
well as an obligation for communal charity. The profusion
of small-scale copies and derivatives of the statue shows that
this sense of pride in prosperity extended to the private home.
The Della Robbia family, in particular, produced several sim­
ilarly themed small statuettes, still extant, for a proud and
growing merchant-class populace (illus. 44).23
During the manufacturing stage of Donatello’s Coron­
ation window, his friend Paolo Uccello won the commission
for the large and impressive fresco of Sir John Hawkwood to
44 Giovanni della Robbia, Dovizia, c. 1520 (after an original of Donatello,
c. 1428–30), glazed terracotta.
donatello 130

be painted on the north wall inside Florence Cathedral (illus.


45). Hawkwood was an English mercenary soldier who served
Florence repeatedly in the late fourteenth century. The gov­
ernment promised him a marble tomb, but a cheaper and
more efficient option prevailed instead. With Uccello’s great
mastery of Brunelleschian perspective, he painted an eques­
trian tribute on the cathedral’s interior left wall with such
impression of three-dimensionality that it evokes sculpture.
Furthermore, the fictitious monument appears to be made
of the grander medium of bronze rather than marble. The
Operai knew that nobody would actually be fooled, but it shows
the extraordinary impact of single-point perspective on the
eye of the observer in this period. It is inconceivable that
Donatello was not involved in the designing of the Hawkwood
monument. Years later, Uccello accompanied Donatello to
Padua, where Donatello’s famous equestrian statue of Gatta­
melata shows distinct reference to the ideas expressed in this
painting. Important conversations between Donatello and
Uccello thus played out within their art, and, helping to insti­
gate such discussion, another strong voice emerged, that of
their mutual friend, Leon Battista Alberti.
Donatello and Alberti may have first met in Rome, where
Alberti served as a papal secretary. In Florence their relation­
ship became truly consequential to Donatello’s art. Alberti’s
family had been exiled from Florence for political reasons,
but the ban was eventually lifted and Alberti safely entered
Florence in the retinue of Pope Eugenius iv in 1434. A year
later, Alberti completed the Latin version of his treatise on
painting, De pictura (On Painting), which revealed the won­
ders of perspective as formulated by Brunelleschi.24 A Tuscan
131 Adorning the City of Florence

version appeared in 1436, dedicated to Brunelleschi, and


concurrent with both were the completion of Uccello’s Hawk­­
wood fresco and the consecration of Florence Cathedral.
This latter event occurred on 25 March 1436, the feast day of
the Annunciation and, for Florentines, the beginning of the
New Year. There was still some construction in progress, but
the main structure of the dome was almost complete and
would be considered Brunelleschi’s finest achievement. As
Alberti wrote in On Painting, ‘Who could ever be hard or envi­
ous enough to fail to praise [Brunelleschi] the architect on
seeing here such a large structure, rising above the skies,
ample to cover with its shadow all the Tuscan people?’25
Alberti’s treatise, ostensibly about painting, recognizes the
synergy inherent in creative human endeavours. Painting was
deeply affected by the developments in architecture and sculp­
ture as well as new revelations in mathematics and science,
and all were linked in the extraordinary setting of Renaissance
Florence. Conversations about perspective and new modes of
creativity were developing at a rapid pace, and the unmistak­
able nexus was the group of artists swirling around Donatello
and Brunelleschi. As Alberti says in his preface,

I have come to understand that in many men, but


especially in you, Filippo [Brunelleschi], and in our
close friend Donatello the sculptor and in others like
Ghiberti, Luca della Robbia, and Masaccio, there is a
genius for [accomplishing] every praiseworthy thing.26

Too often the breakthroughs of one individual overshadow


the contributions of the group that made such innovations
45 Paolo Uccello, Sir John Hawkwood, 1436, fresco.
133 Adorning the City of Florence

possible, and though Alberti gets credit for writing down


certain artistic principles, his debt to others was substantial
and he acknowledged it.
As if to complement aspects of Alberti’s treatise, Dona­
tello created a sculptural response in the form of a relief
sculpture, now in Lille, which depicts the Feast of Herod
(illus. 46).27 The original context for the Lille relief remains
unknown, but it ended up in Medici possession by 1492 and
was probably intended from the start as a demonstration piece
in sculpture of the principles Alberti describes in reference
to painting. It was becoming more common to apply the new
rules of perspective to painting, and Donatello had first shown
its application to sculpture in his schiacciato relief of St George
and the Dragon, using planes of low relief and delicate surface
scratches as opposed to painted lines and coloured fields. The
Lille relief pushes these techniques even further. It ostensibly
illustrates the same story as the bronze relief Donatello com­
pleted years earlier for the Siena baptistery font featuring the
story of Herod and the beheading of St John the Baptist.
The key to any work executed according to Alberti’s trea­
tise is the location of an ideal vantage point for viewing. This
is usually a precise distance directly opposite the object’s
vanishing point. Single-point perspective mimics the optical
illusion that parallel lines moving away from a viewer appear
to converge when in fact they remain parallel in actual space.
The classic example is that of looking directly down railway
tracks – the sides appear to converge towards the horizon line
though they do not in truth. In the Lille panel the conver­
gence of these lines, called orthogonals, occurs just above the
head of the seated woman whose back faces the viewer. She
donatello 134

is the closest figure in the foreground plane, and we look over


her from a distance about two and a half times the width of
the panel to see the scene correctly. If the viewer goes an extra
step to close one eye, making vision monocular, the scene’s
three-dimensionality opens up almost magically. The archi­
tecture makes logical sense, the stairway adjusts accordingly,
and the many figures become well integrated into space. It is
not perfect, to be sure, but makes as strong a statement about
perspective as seen in any Renaissance relief sculpture, or
painting, for that matter.
One cannot remain at a distance for long, however, because
the relief overflows with details so delicately carved they
must be inspected up close. A child huddles, as if bored, at
the bottom of the staircase; St John’s head beckons a glimpse
as it rests on a platter; and, amazingly, Donatello seems to

46 Donatello, Feast of Herod, c. 1435, marble.


135 Adorning the City of Florence

describe a tapestry or painted fresco decoration behind


Herod’s table. Many animated participants populate Herod’s
table in the foreground; a procession appears in the middle-
ground; and relief decorations adorn the truncated archi­tecture
in the back­ground. Every glimpse of something new compels

47 Michelangelo, Madonna of the Stairs, c. 1491, marble.


donatello 136

the viewer onward. In this way Donatello pulls the viewer back
and forth, activating not only the illusionary space within the
sculpture but the actual space of the viewer experiencing the
work, first dispassionately from a ‘correct’ viewpoint and
then passionately while experiencing the aesthetic beauty of
virtuoso carving. Neither Donatello nor any other Renais­
sance sculptor ever accomplished anything quite like it
again. When the youthful Michelangelo looked for inspir­
ation while carving his most Donatellesque relief, known as
the Madonna of the Stairs (illus. 47), he looked to this work –
but even he never mastered rilievo schiacciato in quite the same
manner.

gender , sexualit\, \outh and age


It is no surprise that the Lille relief ended up in Medici hands,
since almost everything Donatello produced in Florence after
Cosimo’s return had Medici approval if not direct involvement.
Frustratingly, most of these works remain poorly documented.
A case in point is the brilliant Cavalcanti Annunciation (c. 1436–
40) in the church of Santa Croce (illus. 48). The family patron
was Niccolò di Giovanni Cavalcanti, whose sister Ginevra
married Lorenzo di Giovanni de’ Medici (Cosimo’s younger
brother).28 Donatello’s work originally served as an altarpiece
for a more elaborate chapel, with an altar table just below it.
The main structure features a classically inspired architec­
tural framework that mimics a decorative window unit as seen
from the outside of a building. Donatello defies the stylistic
subjugation to prescribed architectural orders by creating his
own stylistic embellishments, such as the pilasters with their
48 Donatello, Cavalcanti Annunciation, c. 1436–40, pietra di macigno with
gilding and terracotta spiritelli.
donatello 138

adornment of rose-like petals, their bases made of volutes and


capitals sporting fanciful heads. This fantastical combination
does not conform to any pre-existing formula. It is a new and
original evocation of antiquity.
Inside the frame we witness the Annunciation. The enact­
ment occurs against a decoratively panelled wall that closes off
any background space and creates a clearly defined box-like
enclosure. The Archangel Gabriel begins the action by kneel­
ing before Mary to deliver his message and Mary responds by
recoiling in surprise while securing a book against her body
with her left hand and bringing her right hand to her breast.
The outlines of a lectern appear behind her, and both lectern
and book traditionally refer to Christian interpretations of
the prophecies of Isaiah in the Old Testament.29 Finally, six
spiritelli sculpted in terracotta populate the rounded pediment
above the main scene.
Stylistically the work is consistent with the Zuccone, which
Donatello finished between 1434 and 1436. In a telltale detail,
the description of the back of Zuccone’s left leg closely matches
that of the Cavalcanti Virgin’s right leg. Rather than marble,
Donatello used the softer pietra di macigno, found also in the
Dovizia and Marzocco. Some of the original gilding remains, and
conservation work has revealed that much of the stone sur­
face bore a coating to make it look more like marble. Though
the tabernacle remains in its original location, the spiritelli
have been moved over the years and have suffered some dam­
age. Still, they provide a key visual dynamic and add subtle
commentary by expressing wonder and astonishment while
conversing with each other and reacting with dramatic body
language to the scene below.
139 Adorning the City of Florence

Throughout his career Donatello showed a willingness to


experiment and employ the style most appropriate for the
commission. Here he was not afraid to incorporate a Gothi­
cizing aesthetic, as seen in the exaggerated sway of the Virgin
and tilt of the Archangel Gabriel’s neck. He does this for
dramatic impact rather than as stylistic convention since the
bodies are otherwise believable. The space-box also references
a medieval format, and it stands in stark contrast to spatial
concerns explored in works such as the Lille relief. This is em­
phatically not a perspectival scene that appeals to reason – it
is a vision of spiritual truth. The figures in the Cavalcanti
altarpiece also present unexpected challenges by way of a
subtle androgyny in their forms. All these features might appear
awkward if one expects Donatello’s art to have developed in
a linear fashion towards greater realism and naturalism. But
this is a false assumption. Part of artistic genius is knowing
what methods to employ in a given situation. Like an expert
fisherman, a great artist uses more than one lure.
A lure in art can be ambiguity – not indecisiveness, but the
intentional suggestion of formal and interpretive variability.
Art might suggest change rather than an absolute. For exam­
ple, critics regularly praise the art of Leonardo da Vinci as
expressing variability and even mystery.30 Donatello preceded
Leonardo on this course by at least a generation, and he dem­
onstrated how to exploit such mystery – not to resolve it but
to explore its interpretive possibilities.
In evoking such nuances of variability, no work by Dona­
tello is more misunderstood than his bronze David (illus.
49). The David is more analogous to poetry than to prose,
making suggestions rather than declarations. Vasari meant
49 Donatello, David, c. 1434–40, bronze.
141 Adorning the City of Florence

the ultimate compliment when he praised the statue’s fidelity


to nature by stating, ‘This figure is so natural in its liveliness
and its softness that it seems impossible to artists that it was
not crafted from life.’31 Yet Vasari knew it was a fiction whose
actual form could not possibly exist in nature. The artistry
therefore lies, in part, in making viewers believe a being existed
that never was nor could be. The work is undocumented but
sources and provenance suggest that it was a Medici commis­
sion, prob­ably from about 1434–40 and originally intended
for the old Medici palace that stood on the via Larga, further
up the street from the structure we see today.32 Its earliest
description has it mounted atop a column in the courtyard of
the new Medici palace, which was in progress by 1444.
This David is generally regarded as the first nude free-
standing large-scale figure that had been cast in bronze since
antiquity, and each of these aspects bore significance in early
Renaissance Florence. In formal terms, the statue repre­
sents a rebirth of the style and spirit of an ancient ideal. The
nude figure was the most celebrated subject in classical sculp­
ture, and Dona­tello met this theme head on. While the
biblical David was rarely if ever depicted nude in Florentine
art up to this time, Hercules – a figure considered a classical
counterpart to David – almost always was, along with the
most admired classical statuary. Thus nudity reinforced the
classical associations. Its scale is about life-size or slightly
less, and while Donatello’s spiritelli do provide some prece­
dent for the nude figure, they were all considerably smaller
in scale. The revival of bronze statuary had ample precedent
at Orsanmichele but none of those figures were nude.
Simply put, no previous sculpture of the fifteenth century
donatello 142

yet contained all of the classicizing elements found in


Donatello’s bronze David.
The subject was well chosen since Florence had long made
much of David as a civic symbol.33 By 1416 a marble figure of
David by Donatello had been taken to the Palazzo Vecchio,
the official seat of government, and another was long intended
to stand atop the cathedral. Other images of David existed
in both public and private spaces. Donatello’s bronze David,
however, has garnered a unique kind of fame among all the
early Renaissance images of David. In many ways it is an
enigma that demands interpretation but remains frustrat­
ingly resistant to it. While clearly male, the statue seems to
bear characteristics that many observers consider feminine
– particularly the protruding breasts, rounded belly and cur­
vaceous buttocks.34 Other related aspects of the statue’s
iconography are indeed sensuous if not overtly erotic and, as
yet, have defied definitive explanation. For example, David
appears completely nude except for knee-high boots and a
soft hat bearing a garland. These features have been inter­
preted as innocuous at one extreme and at the other have been
likened to fetishizing props. David stands in contrapposto,
with his right leg straight and his left foot resting on the
decapitated head of Goliath. In details some find provocative,
the moustache of Goliath falls gently over David’s toes (illus.
50), and a wing from Goliath’s helmet caresses David’s right
thigh and rises well into the groin area. One leading textbook
in the twentieth century once went so far as to refer to the
‘lascivious content of the statue’.35
Today’s audience increasingly understands beyond binary
descriptions of gender and sexual preference in people as
143 Adorning the City of Florence

well as art. That a statue might incorporate both masculine


and feminine aspects of being seems more reasonable today
than it did only a brief time ago, and, for various reasons, this
greater acceptance of fluidity correlates more closely to a
fifteenth-century mindset that was also attuned to a certain
ambivalence of gender and sexuality. Furthermore, neither
physical attraction nor the admiration of beauty is the same
thing as sexual desire or its implied consummation, and this
was also well understood in the Renaissance. Modern critics,
however, have been obsessed with categorizing the David’s
sexuality and defining Donatello in light of it.36 In retro­
spect, most of these interpretations say more about the
critics and their time than they do about the statue, and are
often anachronistic.
Nevertheless, it is legitimate to address the question,
raised repeatedly over the past century, of whether the bronze
David explicitly refers to male homoeroticism and whether
this sheds any light on Donatello’s own sexual preferences.
The evidence is scant. In truth, this is Donatello’s only statue
that exudes such sexuality through a young male nude and is
therefore a singular visual expression. The bronze David may
certainly be taken as an ideal of physical form but not the
ideal any more than any other statue by the artist. St Mark
represents an ideal, as do the Zuccone, Judith and Mary
Magdalene. In fact, Donatello was so inventive that no two of
his statues are very much alike, and there is little constancy
in his idealization of figures. This stands in stark contrast to
Michelangelo, for example, where most of his figures depict
similar heroic male nudes, epitomized by his giant marble
version of David.37
donatello 144

No document directly addresses Donatello’s sexual pref­


erences. The literary evidence once used in this regard is
equivocal and mostly concerns excerpts from a book of anec­
dotes compiled in the 1470s.38 One story from this source
begins with Donatello having quarrelled with an assistant and
chased him all the way to Ferrara with intent to kill him. On
the recommendation of Cosimo de’ Medici, Donatello gained
permission from the Marchese of Ferrara to carry out the
murder. When later asked by the marchese whether he had
indeed killed the boy, Donatello responded, ‘No, dammit. He
laughed at me, and I at him.’ A second story concerns a barb
attributed to Donatello when he declined the studio services
of an attractive assistant’s more handsome brother with the
line, ‘The less long will he stay with me!’ A final story offers
that, ‘Donatello used to tint [apply make-up to] his assistants,
so others would not take a fancy to them.’ These hardly pro­
vide conclusive evidence that Donatello desired his assistants
sexually. They mainly indicate Donatello’s fiery temper, that
the more handsome young males were likely to receive other
offers of employment or otherwise leave his studio, and that
Donatello took steps to make them appear less attractive. We
simply do not know Donatello’s own sexual preferences or
how they manifested over many years – he was at least 44
years of age when he began work on the bronze David and
possibly close to fifty when he finished.
During the Renaissance, Florence was certainly consid­
ered a bastion of alternative sexual practices, but the public
accusation of sodomy could have harsh consequences, as
Leonardo and Botticelli, among other artists, learned at first
hand.39 If Donatello did harbour male sexual preferences it
145 Adorning the City of Florence

was in his interest to keep that private, and it is unthink­


able that a statue in the Medici palace could advocate such
behaviour.40
It would be a mistake, all the same, to ignore the raw
sexuality of Donatello’s bronze David, for it is real and potent.
The David may not be an overt statement of male homoerotic
desire, yet it is very much a statue charged with blunt sexual­
ity that was certainly meaningful in the context of its other
associations. The theme of David slaying Goliath had direct
political resonance. Politically, Florentines saw themselves
reflected in the youthful underdog, the implication being that
they had to battle countless Goliaths who could potentially
bring tyranny to the citizenry. As in Donatello’s marble David,
the artist here implies many narrative moments, referencing
both past and present: David holds a rock but no sling; neither
Goliath’s head nor his helmet reveal a gash from being struck;
David holds a sword beside Goliath’s severed head. One foe
has been vanquished but David stands ready to repeat the act
for any future would-be tyrant.
Most emphatically, Donatello’s bronze David does not
concern singularity or stasis. It is about transformation, or
metamorphosis, with room for the physical, political, sexual
and social implications that may come with it.41 The future
of Florence was seen as embodied in its young males, who
were often paraded and celebrated in processions, orations
and art. Donatello’s bronze David features a male coming of
age, a fact evinced as much through physical change and
physical beauty as through propitious action. Budding sexu­
ality is not denied but highlighted, and it forms an important
part of the statue’s iconography, as epicene youth blooms
donatello 146

into manhood through the deed of slaying Goliath. David’s


name translates as ‘beloved’, and the wings that spread from
Goliath’s helmet might be interpreted as arms and hands,
with feathers bearing finger-like projections that brush along
the leg. Yet while one wing rises against the right thigh, the
other is pinned down by the same leg and the sword, frus­
trating any advance.42 Sexual desire is thus acknowledged yet
controlled, and this important theme resurfaces in much
Medicean art, such as Botticelli’s Pallas and the Centaur (c. 1482),
which has a similar theme of mediated sexuality. Donatello’s
bronze David demonstrates, moreover, the classically derived
belief that an individual expressed one’s nature along a spec­
trum from the feminine to the masculine. One’s manliness
was not just a function of physical characteristics but was also
expressed through action, specifically accomplishing mas­
culine deeds and denying actions that would be considered
feminine, including those that were sexual in nature. With the
defeat of Goliath, David transitions decisively from feminine
to masculine and from boy to man.43
It was a clever move for Cosimo de’ Medici to visually pro­
claim Davidic associations, especially so soon after he himself
had been labelled a tyrant. In truth, David does represent a
future monarch, and that too might have been subtly appeal­
ing to Cosimo.44 The political dimensions thus intertwine
with the statue’s other associations, including those highlight­
ing human sexuality. The best art functions on many levels
simultaneously.
An intriguing hypothesis that resurfaces periodically and
bears reconsideration is that Donatello may have portrayed
himself in the head of Goliath (illus. 50). 45 Though this is
147 Adorning the City of Florence

conjectural, one is certainly struck by the similarities between


the statue’s high cheekbones, facial hair and even knitted brow,
and the corresponding features of the representation of Dona­
tello in the Louvre panel. There exists a long subsequent
tradition of artists portraying themselves as Goliath, most
famously Caravaggio, and Donatello may have begun that
tradition here.46
Art has a life different from its makers, and Donatello’s
bronze David is no exception. A new Medici palace was
under construction by 1444, probably under the direction of

50 Detail of bronze David (illus. 49) showing the severed head of Goliath.
51 Donatello, Spiritello (Atys-Amorino), c. 1440, bronze.
149 Adorning the City of Florence

Michel­ozzo, and when finished the bronze David eventually


found itself in its open courtyard on a magnificent ped­
estal completed by Desiderio da Settignano. By 1469 it bore
the following inscription: ‘The victor is the defender of the
homeland. God crushes the wrath of an enormous foe. Behold!
A boy overcame a great tyrant. Triumph, o citizens.’47 Embrac­ing
the cult of youth, the statue explicitly proclaimed deliverance
from tyranny by way of the bravery of a boy, one transforming
into a man. 48
With the theme of youth of such paramount importance
in Florence, Donatello brilliantly portrayed it repeatedly, with
optimism and gusto. The bronze David certainly complements
the recurrent theme of spiritelli that Donatello introduced as
early as the Siena baptistery font, and he even included spiritelli
triumphantly processing with a chariot on Goliath’s helmet
as part of the bronze David composition. We see early spiritelli
on the crozier of St Louis of Toulouse, spiritelli who play music
and dance in Siena, and similar images in relief on the Prato
pulpit and Florence cantoria. The Cavalcanti altar offers emo­
tive spiritelli witnessing a Christian miracle. The great French
illuminator Jean Fouquet, who visited Florence and Rome,
was overwhelmed by Donatello’s use of spiritelli to enlighten
and animate architectural settings.49 Donatello invented new
spiritelli throughout his career, like a signature move. All are
meaningful and not merely decorative, and consistently
enhance viewing spaces both public and private, and both
secular and spiritual.
The most famous and enigmatic of Donatello’s free-
standing spiritelli is the awkwardly misnamed Atys-Amorino
(illus. 51).50 Though assuredly by Donatello, its iconography
donatello 150

remains elusive. Vasari saw it in the house of Giovanni Battista


Doni, though it may have been commissioned by a different
family, such as the Bartolini Salimbeni.51 Vasari shows confu­
sion over its subject when he describes it as ‘a metal statue of
Mercury by Donatello, 1½ braccia [c. 87 cm] tall and clothed
in a certain bizarre fashion’.52
Indeed the statue is unusual, as is much by Donatello,
which is why overly complicated interpretations are unpal­
atable. The viewer of Donatello’s art must accept vagaries.
Artists like Donatello surprise, and issue creations that are
un­­predictable and inimitable. They imagine the mythical uni­
corns when others can only envision real horses. This figure
is a sprite, with wings on his back and winged sandals on
his feet. Associations with Bacchus (the tail) or Aphrodite
(wings) need not be interpreted too explicitly or literally.
Spiritelli can move freely within classical realms like angels do
in the Christian worlds.
A snake entangles the figure’s feet while he raises his
arms in a pose that has never been adequately deciphered.53
The arm positions appear to be original, and there is no
evidence that he ever held an object, though it is not impos­
sible; perhaps he grasped some item made of a soft material.
His arms might reference a long-forgotten gesture or a
youthful game such as civettino (a slapping game played with
the feet held stationary), as seen on contemporary birth
trays (deschi da parto). The dress does seem unusual to a later
audience, with the breeches clearly designed to leave his sex
revealed. To Dona­­tello’s contemporaries, this was a crucial
point. Sprites are innocent, with no shame in their nudity or
awareness of sexual desire. They were perfect specimens to
151 Adorning the City of Florence

celebrate the purity of love, procreation and childhood


inno­cence. As with the common water sprites, here the
explicit display of the genitalia straightforwardly references
health and prosperity.
The statue must have been made in the context of a mar­
riage or the birth of children. This is clear from evidence of
other statuary and imagery on domestic items like birth trays,
where young males urinate, tug on one another’s penises or
otherwise display their genitals innocently but purposefully.
Poppies are commonly shown with these naked youths, since
the plant’s seeds denote fertility, and Donatello’s spiritello bears
stalks of the plant on his belt. The symbols together declare
that this being represents the health of a family, one that will
procreate and extend the line’s existence.
The spiritello statue references familial concerns, as do
contemporary paintings such as Botticelli’s beautiful Venus
and Mars (painted later, in 1483), with its accompanying
sprites sometimes described as little satyrs.54 They are mis­
chievous, to be sure, but not malevolent. The snake at the
feet of Donatello’s statue denotes the conquering of danger
and baseness in the context of love and children, as again
referenced much later in a painting of Venus and Cupid (1525)
by Lorenzo Lotto. In this painting, a snake appears below
Venus while, in an action that seems bizarre to the modern
viewer, Cupid micturates onto her body as a gesture of health
and fertility.55
Youth and sexuality are celebrated in Donatello’s bronzes
as in no other artworks from the period. A different medium,
wood, offered explorations of other significant themes. Wood
is carved rather than modelled, it was generally less expensive
52 Donatello, St John the Baptist, 1438, polychrome wood.
153 Adorning the City of Florence

to procure, and the process from drawing to finished product


proved speedier. Wood could be painted to appear more
life­like and easily gilded for added effect. The sculptor might
even incorporate other media, such as real cloth, hair or
stucco additions. Large-scale wooden statuary tended to
prompt different patronage and display from marble or
bronze, and such works were usually made for the interiors
of churches.
There exist two surviving wooden sculptures securely
attributable to Donatello that he made before leaving for
Padua in the winter of 1443–4. The first is a figure of St John
the Baptist (illus. 52), carved in Florence and shipped to
Venice for a Florentine confraternity that met in the church
of the Frari.56 Though it was formerly considered a late work,
conservation of the statue in 1972–3 uncovered Donatello’s
name and the date of 1438 on its pedestal.57 Adding his name
to sculptures was something Donatello did only occasionally,
particularly for works to be seen outside Florence. St John the
Baptist was a patron saint of Florence, and his image appeared
on one side of the city’s famous currency, the gold florin. His
feast day on 24 June is still celebrated in Florence with
much pomp and ceremony. This figure of John the Baptist
thus fittingly served the expatriate Florentine community
in Venice, and the Florentine merchants who commissioned
it must have been proud to have a statue made by their city’s
leading sculptor.
The sculpture appears lifelike due to its vivid painting,
but it feels rather subdued and the body conservatively posed
compared to the great figure of the Magdalene that would
follow, or even the moving image of the dead Christ that
donatello 154

Donatello would soon carve for Padua. Both of these other


wooden statues brim with implied energy and evoke great
pathos. Instead, the wooden Baptist remains more static. His
drapery hangs over the left shoulder and right arm in a rather
clunky manner, and the contrapposto hardly animates.58 The
dramatic face, though, exudes a sincere and thought­­ful ex­
pres­­­sion of religious fervour and conviction. Wood allowed
Dona­­tello to experiment with telling detail. One such detail,
which only Donatello would attempt, concerns the eyes. Where­­­­
as the right eyelid opens alertly and the eye stares straight
ahead, the left eye falls downwards and to the left. Assuming
it is based on life study, the model suffered a medical condition
known as ptosis – a drooping of the upper eyelid – and due
to the facial asymmetry it would have been most likely caused
by an orbital fracture.59 Donatello thus emphasizes human
spirituality through the idiosyncratic realism of the statue’s
physical appearance. Fully capable of creating an ideal, here
Donatello chose instead a broken and imperfect man on
which to model a saint.
The other wooden statue Donatello carved before leaving
for Padua has long been hailed as a masterpiece. Mentioned
in copious early sources, it depicts Mary Magdalene (illus.
53) in an interpretation without extant sculptural prece­
dent and with no comparable progeny.60 Brunelleschi had
carved an early wooden statue of Mary Magdalene for the
Corbin­elli chapel in the church of Santo Spirito, but it
perished in a fire of 1471. Though we have no indication of
its pose or appearance, it made a striking impact on con­
temporaries, and according to Antonio Billi, writing around
1530, the Magdalene statues by Brunelleschi and Donatello
155 Adorning the City of Florence

respectively were seen as rivals.61 Echoing praise similarly


afforded to the St George and the Zuccone, Francesco Bocchi, in
1591, declared Donatello’s Magdalene the most beautiful statue
in the Florence Baptistery, ‘and so beautifully designed that
she resembles nature in every way and seems alive’.62 It is, in
fact, the most celebrated early Renaissance statue of a female
apart from the Virgin Mary, and, significantly, Donatello’s
version in no way celebrates outward feminine beauty or
female sexuality.
Unfortunately, much about Donatello’s Magdalene remains
unknown. There is no documentation of its patronage or of
its provenance before 1500, when it was returned to the bap­
tistery after an unexplained absence, and it may be that the
bap­­tistery was not its original location. There is no doubt,
however, that it could only have been carved by Donatello, and,
mostly for its stylistic similarity to the wooden Baptist, the
Magdalene may be dated near it in time. Consistent in technique
with the Baptist, it consists primarily of poplar wood supple­
mented by the application of gesso, with the whole finished
with paint and gilding. Its interpretation, in addition, strikes
a complementary if more intense and dramatic chord.
Donatello’s Magdalene is a staggeringly innovative artistic
contradiction. On the one hand, it is conventional in theme
and general pose – a standing Mary Magdalene with hands
clasped together in prayer, demonstrating penitence. On the
other hand, it is unique in its expressive power. The physical
manifestations of the Magdalene’s hardship, suffering and
facial decrepitude become vehicles to understand the ecstatic
nature of her spiritual awakening. Donatello thus transforms
external ugliness into an expression of inner saintliness, and
53 Donatello, Mary Magdalene, c. 1438, polychrome wood.
157 Adorning the City of Florence

thereby beauty. The Magdalene’s body seems haggard but


sinu­ously lithe. It is rugged but not emaciated, like a mara­
thon runner whose limbs bear no extra flesh and whose taut
muscles reveal their tireless strength with each powerful
exertion. She has been called masculine by some, but this
misses the point; her example subsumes her gender into a
universal symbol of repentance. Her hands come together
in prayer while her long tresses of hair clothe her entire body,
thus denying any sexual tension. Her face bears the tragic
truth of her utter humanity.
Donatello’s Mary Magdalene stands on a rock, where
she seeks divine guidance in her penitence. The depiction is
heart-rending, but not pessimistic, as she brings us face to
face with the reality of pain, the ravages of time and the effects
of self-deprivation. This sculpture says that our suffering is
nothing compared to hers, and that if she ultimately finds
spiri­tual bliss, so can we. Its unorthodox portrayal is typical of
Dona­tello in that it disrupts the mundane and presents a chal­
lenge that must have left younger sculptors astonished and
humbled.

the or deal
In some ways, Donatello followed a path remarkably like the
classic hero’s journey.63 Having passed through early stages of
adventures, gaining powers, meeting mentors and surviving
challenges, he inevitably faced an ordeal. This involved work
in the Old Sacristy of the church of San Lorenzo. It helped
precipitate a sort of exile in a far-away place – Padua – from
which he would return to face new tests of his art and character.
donatello 158

San Lorenzo is one of the oldest and most important


churches in Florence, with origins dating back to the fourth
century. In the early fifteenth century Cosimo de’ Medici
initiated its modification and rebuilding as part of a grand
process of urban revitalization in the immediate neighbour­
hood. The new Medici palace rose in the 1440s not far from
the northeast corner of the church, but before the palace
could be built Cosimo had to buy up adjacent properties. From
1433 onwards, Donatello rented one of these large spaces
near the church as a studio. Cosimo and his brother Lorenzo
di Gio­vanni charged the sculptor an annual rent of 5 florins,
far below market prices. Donatello’s obligations in turn were
artistic in nature.
Designed by Brunelleschi, San Lorenzo is considered
one of the first expressions of a new, Renaissance style of
architecture. The church’s Old Sacristy, so named because a
sub­­­sequent (new) sacristy was built in the sixteenth century,
was begun in about 1422 after Brunelleschi’s design and was
the first part of the new church structure to be completed. It
received its roof in 1428. The sacristy served various pur­
poses, both ecclesiastical and commemorative. One function
was as a family memorial, since it contained the sarcoph­­
agus of Gio­vanni di Bicci de’ Medici and Piccarda Bueri, the
parents of Cosimo and Lorenzo de’ Medici.64 The whole bears
a dedication to Giovanni di Bicci’s patron saint, John the
Evangelist.
The beauty of the architectural space resides in the math­
ematical purity of its forms, based on perfect squares, circles,
cubes and spheres (illus. 54). The architectural details are
minimal, with each supporting unit carved from pietra di
159 Adorning the City of Florence

macigno stone and declaring itself as an essential component


of support against white plaster walls. It is the sense of archi­
tectural perfection and ornamental discretion that Donatello
was accused of violating, both in concept and detail, through
works he made for the space.
The original sculptural ornament, though spare, included
some significant embellishments. Brunelleschi’s famous com­
petition panel featuring the Sacrifice of Isaac ornamented the
back of the altar.65 In the centre of the room stands a large
vesting table, under which resides the sarcophagus of Gio­
vanni di Bicci, de’ Medici and Piccarda Bueri. This is generally
attributed to Brunelleschi’s adopted son, called Buggiano,
and all these displays clearly had Brunelleschi’s approval.
Donatello added decorations in four general areas and it
is understandable to see them as intrusions. From uppermost
placement to lowest, one encounters four roundels with scenes
of the legend of St John the Evangelist (located in the dome’s
pendentives), four evangelist roundels (one in each of the wall
lunettes), two reliefs of paired saints (above the doors flanking
the altar niche) and two sets of bronze doors with elaborate
surrounds (below the paired saints). The copious and colour­
ful decoration contrasts rather glaringly with the small and
intimate sacristy space, whose basic colours had been grey and
white, with a conspicuous roundel of red porphyry in the
centre of the vesting table. Much of the added decoration
seems appended rather than integrated, especially the new
door frames, which injected prominent architectural elements
on a scale and in a style that run counter to Brunelleschi’s
overall vision of an architecture based on a logical arrangement
of forms with no extraneous decorative members.
54 Donatello, decorations in the Old Sacristy of San Lorenzo, Florence,
c. 1439–43.
161 Adorning the City of Florence

Early commentators pulled no punches. Antonio Manetti,


in his biography of Brunelleschi (c. 1475), accuses Donatello
of working ‘with such pride and arrogance that he installed
[doorway decorations] without ever consulting Brunelleschi’.
Manetti, a staunch Brunelleschi partisan, added, ‘What he did
in the sacristy, individually and collectively, utterly lacked the
grace of Brunelleschi’s forms.’ Manetti claims that Brunel­
leschi even composed sonnets to exonerate himself from any
blame having to do with Donatello’s interventions. In his
book on architecture, written between 1461 and 1464, Filarete,
who praised Donatello’s St George as ‘perfect’, criticized Dona­
tello’s figures on the bronze doors on either side of the altar
space by stating, ‘If you have to do apostles, do not make
them look like fencers, as Donatello did in the two bronze
doors in the sacristy of S. Lorenzo in Florence.’66 Antonio
Billi, a sixteenth-century biographer of artists, mentions the
Old Sacristy doors around 1530, ‘even though they are not
very graceful’. The Florentine artist Baccio Bandinelli wrote
to Duke Cosimo i de’ Medici in 1547 criticizing the Old
Sacristy doors and bronze pulpits as coarse. Other artists
and commentators also praised Donatello’s work in the Old
Sacristy. Vasari, in particular, had no reservations about its
beauty, and Francesco Bocchi, in his guidebook of 1591,
describes individual works as well as the whole and concludes
that, ‘artists visiting this place enjoy the sweetest delight
imaginable’.
Creatively, Donatello tried some daring and original
tech­niques for the time, and it is easy to lose sight of that
fact. The upper stucco work is the most innovative. With
the stucco, Donatello explored the possibilities of adding a
donatello 162

varied palette of colour to the three-dimensionality of relief


sculpture. It was not new to paint stucco or even terracotta,
but to do so with narrative scenes using the progressive new
techniques of mathematical perspective was unprecedented.
In effect, Donatello sought a logical next step forward from
rilievo schiacciato by adding colour to relief sculpture. In hind­
sight, it is easy to see glazed terracotta, as developed by Luca
della Robbia, as the more elegant and beautiful development
in this type of sculptural appendage, but mastery of the tech­
nique was still almost a decade away and its success was far
from evident at the time of the Old Sacristy decoration.67
Still, Donatello never again went back to painted stucco on
this scale.
For practical reasons, interior decoration was traditionally
installed from the top of the interior downwards, and that is
a logical way to assess the Old Sacristy decorations because,
except for modelling the wax forms from which the bronze
doors were cast, Donatello worked in situ. The narrative roun­
dels in the pendentives comprise the most daring parts of the
overall decoration and presented difficult challenges because
their surfaces are concave as they follow the curvature of the
pendentives. They also betray extreme experimentation under­­
taken in a context where speed was of the essence. Conservation
work has shown in detail how Dona­tello used nails to support
the damp stucco, which he worked by hand, leaving finger­
prints in the process.68 Stucco could be painted while wet or
dry, and Donatello used both techniques. Some of the meth­
ods employed have ancient precedent while others suggest
consultation with a contemporary painter who well knew
fresco technique. The perspectives are formidable, with lines
163 Adorning the City of Florence

still evident where an artist scratched guides into the stucco


surfaces. Donatello must have worked with an expert in per­
spective – and there were plenty to choose from, including
Brunelleschi, Alberti and Uccello. A case could be made for
each of them as a friendly collaborator, but the aesthetic is
closest to Uccello, who also offered expertise working with
fresco and pigments.
The figures appear in white against blue and red back­
grounds, yet their stories remain difficult to read from afar
and often seem cluttered even in reproduction. The Raising of
Drusiana, in which St John resurrects the woman from the
dead, offers the most drama. For her cloak Donatello used
the only dark pigment in the entire chapel, which makes her
stand out significantly and reminds the viewer that this
space is, in fact, also a mausoleum.69 The architecture in this
scene is the most successful, as Donatello creates a grand
stage for the action, all beneath a barrel vault that comple­
ments the roundel form and helps aim the viewer’s attention
towards Drusiana. Surrounding figures, impressively mod­
elled, show much dynamic action. The other scenes vary in
their dramatic intensity, often too busy to read clearly,
though the scene of St John on Patmos offers a welcome visual
contrast through the sparse landscape setting of the saint’s
mystical vision.
The four evangelists that occupy the lunettes present
quieter and more simplified scenes. Their collective mood
suggests deep contemplation. Donatello poses each as seated
and reading at an altar-like lectern accompanied by their
appropriate symbol. They contain wonderful classical-inspired
details and evocative facial expressions, though they also
donatello 164

display languid, weary body language. The most acclaimed,


St John, slumps forward from his seat with an anguished look
of concentration.
The pairs of saints that occupy the spaces above the
doorways receive ambivalent assessment due to stylistic incon­
sistencies. The faces of saints Lawrence and Stephen evoke
remarkable energy and pathos, and the detailed decorations
on their vestments bring to life otherwise flattened bodies.
These features differ in the figures of saints Cosmas and
Damian, with their stoic faces and drapery that contains little
detail even as wonderfully dynamic bodies show movement
beneath. There was apparent indecision about how the sur­
faces should appear, and ultimately Donatello decided to
brighten the faces with lead white.70 Technical studies also
show two different artists at work. One hand both added and
subtracted material while a second hand only subtracted.
Though the saints by this second hand are often attributed to
Michelozzo or an assistant, Donatello had overall responsibility
and no document specifies shared authorship.
The two sets of bronze doors in the sacristy present myriad
problems of style and iconography.71 Contemporary sources
identify them, along with their surrounds, as the main targets
of critical disapproval, though the doors are, in fact, remark­
able works for their time. Donatello always left the casting
of bronze to others, and Michelozzo may have taken on that
important role here. Though their partnership had long
ended, their working relationship continued. From 1437 on,
Michelozzo assisted Ghiberti on the famous Gates of Paradise,
the final set of doors for the Baptistery. Work on these respec­
tive sets of bronze doors overlapped and were concurrent
165 Adorning the City of Florence

with the commission for two additional sets of bronze doors


for the sacristies in Florence Cathedral. The growing desire
for bronze doors in ecclesiastical spaces thus presented
heightened expectations of the artists involved, and in this
battleground Ghiberti most definitely took home the prize.
Donatello’s bronze doors for San Lorenzo appear conserv­
ative in nature and may be based on precedents found in early
illuminated manuscripts. Each respective set features ten
panels, and within each panel two figures face one another
in animated debate. The left set is usually called the Martyrs’
Doors and the right set the Apostles’ Doors, but few figures
on any of the panels can be specifically identified. As a whole
the doors might seem rather dull in their repetitive pairing
of saints, and the interaction of figures is often uncompelling.
But among the forty individual figures one finds moments of
sheer brilliance. At his best, Donatello attempts to achieve in
bronze relief what rilievo schiacciato proffered in marble; that
is, the suggestion that figures exist in extended space and are
not mere protrusions on a flat surface. He gives the bodies
classical proportions, seen through clinging transparent dra­
pery, and invents interesting individual poses. Some figures
overlap or deny the frame, while others reaffirm the frame by
resting on it. To be sure, some poses appear more dynamic
while others seem stale, and disappointing figures might be
excused by the claim that other hands were involved – and
surely they were. Donatello, however, was responsible for the
quality control expected of his studio, and he clearly com­
posed some beautiful notes even if they often fail to come
together as song. Alberti may have been criticizing Donatello’s
work when he wrote in On Painting, ‘A runner is expected to
donatello 166

lunge with his hands and feet, but I prefer a philosopher


while he is talking to show much more modesty than skill in
fencing.’72 Fronds held by characters on the Martyrs’ Doors
indeed look like swords, though Alberti’s words would have
cut more deeply.
Criticism from a colleague need not imply an adversarial
relationship. Alberti and Donatello certainly continued their
fruitful interactions long after completion of the Old Sacristy
decorations. Donatello’s subsequent relationship with Brunel­­
leschi is murkier. Antonio Manetti, Brunelleschi’s biographer,
writes that Donatello’s works in the Old Sacristy never had
Brunelleschi’s approval. Manetti also claims that Donatello’s
indignation against his friend caused Brunelleschi to compose
sonnets to make clear which parts were his and which were
Donatello’s. These sonnets are lost but there exists one poem,
possibly related though probably earlier, addressed to Dona­
tello and attributed to Brunelleschi. It is difficult to interpret
and must contain innuendos fully understandable only to
their close circle, but it basically tells Donatello to stop talk­
ing and get back to his work, which is something that justly
earns him praise. It has a biting tone of telling someone to
stick to what they know and do best.73
In the winter of 1443–4 Donatello left Florence rather
abruptly for Padua. Why did Donatello leave? There are
two basic hypotheses, not mutually exclusive: he may have
been running from something in Florence or running to new
opportunity in Padua. Most biographers emphasize the latter,
but there is some reason to consider the former. His depar­
ture was sudden: documents place Donatello in Florence as
late as October 1443, associated with Fra Filippo Lippi, but
167 Adorning the City of Florence

he appears in Padua by January of 1444.74 He had many com­


missions in progress, especially for the cathedral, and more
pending that he simply left hanging.
Later comments by Donatello indicate ambivalent feel­
ings about his artistic reception in his home city. Vasari offers
that Donatello appreciated the drive to excel that criticism
might inspire and that Donatello returned to Florence from
Padua precisely to regain critical appraisal, even if censorious:

Because he was taken to be a wonder and praised by


all critics, he decided to return to Florence, saying that
if he stayed any longer he would forget everything that
he knew, being so greatly praised by all, and he would
willingly return to his homeland and continue to be
criticized, since such criticism would give cause to study,
and consequently bring greater glory.75

Criticism might inspire greatness but it can also leave a


sting, and Donatello was human. The carping from work at
San Lorenzo must have taken a toll, especially if his good friend
Brunelleschi was composing critical poems and Alberti
obliquely criticizing the poses of his religious figures as more
appropriate to athletes. Still, there does not seem to be wide­
spread alienation in Donatello’s leaving. Certainly Michelozzo
remained friends with Donatello and helped him upon the
sculptor’s return from Padua. Cosimo de’ Medici also welcomed
Donatello back with open arms. Paolo Uccello reportedly
joined Donatello in Padua at some point, proving that the
sculptor did not leave Florence friendless. But Donatello left
Florence nonetheless.
donatello 168

The other hypothesis for Donatello’s departure maintains


that there was an opportunity in Padua so irresistible that he
dropped everything in order to pursue it. With or without
some dissatisfaction in Florence, this is the more intriguing
possibility.
four

The Paduan Journey

P
adua welcomed Donatello. The city lies on the
mainland side of Venice and from 1405 onwards
was considered Venetian territory. Cosimo de’
Medici spent time there during his brief exile from Florence
(1433–4) and reportedly received good treatment from both
the Paduans and Venetians. Cosimo’s original exile required
him to spend ten years in Padua but he remained only two
months before transferring to Venice to be with his brother
and his bank. Cosimo’s wealth made him desirable and he
knew the disastrous state of finances in Florence would
help facilitate any eventual return, so he tended to business
assiduously. Cosimo eventually left the region with good
connections and a sound reputation such that his favourite
sculptor would be well accommodated in turn.
For the artist to go to any foreign city without Cosimo’s
approval would have been perceived as a dangerous and
unac­ceptable slight. Padua was safe, despite the fact that an
anti-Medicean faction also resided in the city. The leader of
this constituency was Palla Strozzi, a significant patron of the
arts who may have been a distant relation to Donatello. An
artist of Donatello’s talent and character could move tactfully
between feuding political forces, and Palla’s son, Onofrio,
donatello 170

eventually provided valuable assistance by facilitating payments


while Donatello worked on the Gattamelata.

heroic sculptur e
In Padua, Donatello found a cultured and prosperous city
with many benefits. It boasted a celebrated university, one of
the most respected in Europe at the time and whose origins
go back to 1222. The university maintained particular exper­
tise in law and medicine, including human anatomy. The
latter may have been of particular benefit to a sculptor so
devoted to the realistic portrayal of the human body. The city
had wealth and thus a fair amount of patronage and collect­
ing, with much interest in antiquity due to the many respected
humanists living there and an ancient connection to the
Roman historian Livy, who was born there. Local artisans
included the influential painter Francesco Squarcione, who
also collected antiquities in a studio where Andrea Mantegna
later trained. Padua possessed the Arena (Scrovegni) Chapel,
which housed frescoes by Giotto justly lauded for their artis­
tic significance. With a stimulating intellectual and artistic
environment, associations with rich and powerful patrons and
little competition in the realm of sculpture, Donatello still
needed one crucial element to attract him there: a great com­
mission. This emerged in the form of an equestrian monument
to a mercenary soldier named Erasmo da Narni, better known
as Gattamelata (Calico or Honeyed Cat).1
Erasmo da Narni was one of the famous mercenary sol­
diers (condottieri) who conducted war on behalf of various
Italian states. At one point he had commanded an army that
171 The Paduan Journey

served Florence, and thus Cosimo de’ Medici considered him


an ally.2 Gattamelata began serving Venice in 1434, having
helped orchestrate some significant victories. Though highly
celebrated, in many ways Gattamelata was an unlikely subject
through whom Donatello would create one of the great
monuments in Western art. Gattamelata was a commoner, a
mercenary rather than a ruler, not even Venetian or Paduan.
He was from Narni, in central Italy, and served Venice for only
a short time before his death in 1443. Similarly, Lisa Gherardini
and her merchant husband Francesco del Giocondo were of
little historical significance; the portrait of his wife which
Francesco commissioned from Leonardo da Vinci, however,
has become the world’s most famous picture, the Mona Lisa.
Leonardo made Lisa immortal in paint as Donatello would
do for Gattamelata in bronze. Such is the power of art.
Gattamelata, who died in 1443 after a long illness, left
a will with instructions for a relatively modest burial in the
Santo, the church in Padua dedicated to St Anthony and the
most impressive ecclesiastical structure in the city. He was
indeed buried there. The Venetian state went further still and
gave him an elaborate funeral and sanctioned the commission
of an equestrian statue in his honour. The Gattamelata statue
was to be erected in the square directly in front of the Santo
just to the north.
Though officially a state commission, what few documents
exist indicate that much of the financing and management
of it went through Gattamelata’s executors, which included
his widow, personal secretary and a relative.3 Documentation
beginning in 1447 indicates that casting occurred during the
spring and summer of that year. Given the magnitude of the
donatello 172

planning, modelling and preparation for the casting of such


a huge piece, the design probably began in 1444 and likely
prompted Donatello’s relocation from Florence, as claimed
by Vasari. Donatello had begun a quest to revive the ancient
form of the equestrian monument.
Though one tends to think of artists working individually,
the crafting of Renaissance sculpture was often the result of
teamwork. Donatello’s collaborators in Florence had included
Brunelleschi, Nanni di Banco, il Rosso and Michelozzo, to
name a few. In Padua, Donatello worked mainly in bronze
and used the able services of an expert caster named Andrea
del Caldiere. Donatello’s Paduan studio, located near the
church of the Santo, must have employed many other indi­
viduals, and the Florentine artist Baccio Bandinelli later
claimed – probably with some exaggeration – that Donatello
had had eighteen or twenty assistants.4 Donatello’s residence
in Padua did not mean he did not travel extensively, including
trips back to Florence, where he appears in October 1445
helping to estimate a work for Florence Cathedral carved by
Brunelleschi’s adopted son, Buggiano. Brunelleschi died six
months later, in April 1446.
Donatello’s most important early collaborator in Padua
was his friend Paolo Uccello. Uccello’s presence in Padua has
been vastly undervalued, partly because it is undocumented.
In 1443 he finished painting a clock face with four heads for
the interior of Florence Cathedral and then had ample oppor­
tunity to periodically join Donatello in Padua. In Padua,
Uccello reportedly executed lost paintings of giants in the
courtyard of the Casa Vitaliani, a commission possibly secured
by Donatello, but his main reason for visiting the city would
173 The Paduan Journey

have been for the two artists to consult while formulating the
Gattamelata monument.5 Donatello had assisted Uccello pre­
viously in designing the great Hawkwood fresco in Florence
Cathedral, and the two must have relished the thought of
bringing the equestrian idea to life in the third dimension.
With Donatello, collaboration and competition brought
forth some of his most creative moments. Uccello and local
artists provided the former. Competition appeared in the
form of a contemporaneous and equally ambitious equestrian
monu­ment then under way in Ferrara. The Ferrarese monu­
ment commemorated Niccolò iii d’Este, who died in 1441.
It was commissioned in 1443 by his heir, Leonello d’Este, from
two Tuscan sculptors, Antonio di Cristoforo and Niccolò
Baron­celli, and the work was installed in 1451.6 Though they
are far from household names today, Donatello knew these
two sculptors well. Antonio di Cristoforo trained and then
collaborated with Luca della Robbia. Niccolò Baroncelli had
been an apprentice to Donatello, the two even living together
for a time, as recorded in 1427, and the younger artist had
been working in Padua for about eight years before Dona­
tello’s arrival. The success of the Ferrarese horse would be
such that Niccolò earned the nickname Niccolò del cavallo
(Nicholas of the horse). Niccolò’s exit from Padua at the same
moment as Donatello’s entrance to the city cannot have been
coin­­cidental.
The final link in this nexus of equestrian interest, serving
as both collaborator and competitor, was the all-purpose
instigator Alberti. Alberti spent much time in Ferrara during
this period and consulted on the d’Este monument. Moreover,
at the same time he composed a treatise, dedicated to Leonello
donatello 174

d’Este, called The Living Horse.7 In this work Alberti stressed


the ideal nature and behaviour of the horse, both in battle
and on parade, and by implication what an ideal equestrian
monument should evoke – a proper bearing and comport­
ment of the protagonists rather than mere description of
appearances. Unfortunately, the Ferrarese monument suf­
fered destruction by Napoleonic forces in 1796 and we know
its appearance only at second hand. Donatello’s statue, how­
ever, survives in excellent condition and conforms well to
Alberti’s theories, suggesting the two artists continued to be
in fruitful contact even outside of Florence.
The challenge that excited all these artists was to revive
the equestrian monument as known from classical antiquity
and to do so in the commemoration of a contemporary per­
son. In effect, the recently deceased would be likened to the
great emperors of old. Donatello’s ultimate success in this
regard resonates through the words of an early commentator,
Michele Savonarola, who shortly after the statue’s completion
declared that Gattamelata was ‘seated just like a triumphant
Caesar, and with scarcely less magnificence’.8 Some medieval
equestrian sculptures did exist, but none had the realism or,
more importantly, the heroic bearing of the ancient models.
Visual precedents from antiquity available to Donatello sur­
vived in the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius in Rome
and in four bronze horses, probably Roman and acquired
from Constantinople, that then stood on the facade of San
Marco in Venice. Another ancient statue, called the Regisole,
stood in Pavia, not a terribly difficult journey from Padua.
Like the Ferrarese monument, the Pavia statue also suffered
destruction in 1796.
175 The Paduan Journey

Donatello relished the challenge of reviving the equestrian


monument and took it up with much vigour. It is easy to lose
sight of the prodigious amounts of planning and prepara­
tion between the time he arrived in Padua, in early 1444,
and the casting of the monument three years later. The
process involved careful study of actual horses, making draw­
ings and small models, and the dreaded practical aspects, for
Dona­tello, of setting up a studio and finding assistants. The
preparation for bronze casting eventually necessitated a model
of actual size, the construction of an armature, the modelling
of forms in clay and the working out of even the most minor
details. Further steps needed to prepare the model for cast­
ing were taken under the direction of Andrea del Caldiere,
but with the full cooperation of Donatello as the master art­
ist. At no point could Donatello rest until the work reached
final fruition, and that did not occur until 1453.
The result is magnificent (illus. 55). Horse and rider form
a partnership as in classical dressage, where the harmony
between them generates maximum performance with seem­
ingly minimal exertion. Their every movement seems graceful
and effortless. Gattamelata’s horse appears to have been slowly
walking as if on parade until stopping to perch its left front
hoof on a small sphere. The sphere helps balance the bronze
while evoking the image of both the battlefield cannonball
and, more obliquely, the orb often held by emperors and
Christ. Aside from the orb, Donatello’s sculpture in profile
view practically forms a mirror image to Uccello’s Hawkwood
monument, but the Gattamelata displays greater refinement
and realism. Much artistic ground had been covered in the
decade between these two monuments.
donatello 176

Gattamelata’s horse turns his head towards his left, with


open mouth, and protruding veins pulsing across his muzzle
to his neck, all further animating his presence. The horse
stands as a massive and powerful specimen but one well
trained and groomed. In a stylized antique manner, the
trimmed mane bears a topknot on the horse’s head, while the
tail has been carefully combed and the hair gathered with a
ribbon at its end.
The human rider sits with formality and grace in an upright
posture with confident bearing. The careful modelling of
Gattamelata’s face suggests a realistic portrait, with beetling
brow and idiosyncratically heavy jowls.9 With his right hand,
Gattamelata gently extends a baton while with the left he
grips the horse’s reigns. His armour combines inventions of
both modern and antique motifs and should not be construed
as actual. It is a brilliant fantasy, and in that sense timeless.
Yet it was criticized by Filarete for its anachronistic details,
proving even contemporaries often mistook the novelty of
Donatello’s art. Though he renders the armour with much
detail, Donatello exercises enough restraint to let each motif
breathe. The cuirass features a Medusa head on its centre
strap, reliefs of spiritelli adorn the sitter’s mid-section, and
additional figures seem to cling to the rider’s side. Each articu­
lated piece of armour offers a new visual treasure: animated
faces, individualized plates, and fringes that contrast the evo­
cation of heavier materials with those of cloth. Admittedly,
the astonishing amount of detail is almost impossible to see
without photographs, especially with the principal view from
below (the height of the pedestal is about 7.8 m (25½ ft)
tall).10 As with the best stained-glass windows, where the
177 The Paduan Journey

overall effect is heighted by the details the average viewer will


never see up close, the effects of Donatello’s meticulously
rendered statue are overwhelming. The parts become less
important than the whole and the effect of the whole is easily
understood. This is an image of power and invincibility, but
also of a human, eminently believable as a great commander,
indeed as the epitome of the ideal warrior.
Donatello placed the bronze group on an elaborate stone
pedestal. The uppermost part bears reliefs on each side

55 Donatello, Equestrian Statue of Gattamelata, 1444–53, bronze.


donatello 178

showing Gattamelata’s heraldic device and military honours,


respectively. The lower parts show fictive doorways, one slightly
ajar – a motif found on ancient sarcophagi. The whole overtly
references funerary imagery, though as a cenotaph rather than
a mausoleum since the deceased was actually buried inside
the adjacent church.11 The monument stood on the site of a
medieval cemetery and thus the funerary imagery was quite
appropriate. Donatello must have been especially proud of his
work, since he left an inscription on the front of the marble
base that reads: opvs donatelli·flo (work of Donatello
the Florentine).
Constructing the Gattamelata monument did not come
without its own trials, with the most predictable concerning
money. A story from the time, found in various sources with
minor variation, begins with Donatello either being pestered
to finish the statue or not receiving money for it in a timely
fashion. The story continues,

he took a hammer and smashed its head. When the


Signoria of Venice heard this, they summoned the art­
ist and told him, among other threats, that his own
head was going to be smashed, like that of the statue.
And Donatello replied ‘That’s all right with me, pro­
vided you can restore my head as I shall restore that
of your Captain’.12

There is normally some truth to these tales of disagreement


over time and money, which abound in the literature. Patrons
were loath to part with money and artists reluctant to pro­
ceed without it. Artists, always feeling rushed, could never
179 The Paduan Journey

deliver fast enough for their impatient clients. Donatello


presents a special case since the artist was as careless and
arbitrary with his finances, and as capricious with his working
priorities, as his patrons were insistent about receiving timely
value for their expenditures. He was as frustrating a character
as could be imagined, but by the time the Gattamelata neared
completion there was no doubting his unparalleled talent as a
sculptor on a grand scale. In its final stages eight arbiters were
appointed to decide on the statue’s worth. They praised it for
‘the great mastery and ingenuity that there had been in the
making and casting of the said horse and rider’ and awarded
the artist 1,650 ducats, a substantial sum.13
While in Padua, Donatello’s services were constantly
being sought in other cities.14 Prospective patrons also knew
of Donatello’s habitual dilatoriness in completing work
promised and that it was better to induce than to threaten.
The examples of his frustrating behaviour are many. In 1450
Donatello visited Mantua at the behest of Ludovico Gon­
zaga for a commission to make a bronze reliquary called the
Arca di Sant’ Anselmo. Donatello made models in various
media, including images of the Madonna in tufo (a volcanic
stone) and terracotta. Despite promises made over the next
eight years to finish the work, there is no evidence that any­
thing was ever completed. In 1451 the Bishop of Ferrara
paid the sculptor for unidentified work – possibly a crucifix
– that was later assigned to Niccolò Baroncelli.15 In the same
year, Donatello travelled to Modena to secure a commission
for a sculpture honouring Borso d’Este.16 He convinced the
city to use bronze instead of marble, but despite the artist
making initial progress and receiving some payments, neither
donatello 180

documents nor objects show that it was ever brought even


close to fruition. On 26 May 1452 Alfonso i of Naples wrote
to the Venetian Doge, Francesco Foscari, seeking Donatello’s
services.17 This did not come to pass but it reminded the
Venetians that the sculptor had other prestigious options. In
sum, Donatello had no shortage of customers, and while this
did not excuse his unreliable behaviour it certainly enabled
his eccentricities to be indulged.
Despite these offers from elsewhere, until finishing the
Gattamelata Donatello remained domiciled in Padua with much
other work always to be done. Donatello’s most elaborate
creations, besides the equestrian monument, were intended
for the Santo, the church dedicated to St Anthony that
formed the backdrop for the Gattamelata. He first completed
a bronze Crucifix (illus. 56).18 Donatello received the commis­
sion immediately upon his arrival in Padua and had already
begun work on it by the end of January 1444. This work pro­
ceeded unevenly, as far as we know, but by 1449 it was complete
and being prepared for installation.
Today Donatello’s bronze Crucifix is integrated with the
high altar complex of the church, but it was originally placed
midway down the nave, either above the entrance to the fri­
ar’s choir or atop the rood screen just to its west.19 The bronze
figure of Christ was mounted on a wooden cross painted blue
by Niccolò Pizzolo, a talented artist also associated with major
names in Padua such as Squarcione and Mantegna.20 Pizzolo
gilded the cross with the help of an unidentified woman
described only as ‘donna’. Pizzolo himself presented a col­
ourful figure, as interested in weaponry as in art. According
to Vasari, in 1453 he was treacherously slain by an enemy
181 The Paduan Journey

when returning to his studio. Afterwards, Donatello had to


retrieve some works from Pizzolo’s brother, indicating that
the sculptor and painter had retained a collaborative relation­
ship from 1449 until Pizzolo’s death. Another documented
collaborator was Andrea del Caldiere, who not only helped
with the casting but furnished a ‘diadem’ for the crucifix,

56 Donatello, Crucifix, 1444–9, bronze.


donatello 182

probably a halo, which was then gilded by Fra Bartolomeo da


Casteganaro. This object has since disappeared.
Donatello’s Paduan creation presides as the first life-sized
bronze crucifix of the Renaissance. Many precedents existed
in wood, including Donatello’s own version in Santa Croce,
completed thirty years earlier and mocked by Brunelleschi.
Bronze, however, offered greater material splendour for the
period viewer. Together, Donatello’s Padua and Florence
images of Christ present a rare opportunity to compare the
same theme as expressed by a single artist at diverse stages of
his career. Furthermore, the analysis benefits from a recently

57 Donatello, Crucifix, c. 1440–45, polychrome wood.


183 The Paduan Journey

rediscovered wooden crucifix in the church of Santa Maria


dei Servi that is contemporary with the bronze and convinc­
ingly attributed to Donatello (illus. 57).21 These Paduan works
are siblings – not quite twins, but clearly of the same parent.
Donatello may have carved the wooden crucifix just before
leaving Florence, which would have expedited the realization
of the variant in bronze once in Padua.22 These are no peas­
ants! They evoke a heroic presence that Brunelleschi had
perceived as missing from Donatello’s early attempt at the
theme in Florence.
The Paduan works demonstrate what marvellous develop­
ments Donatello made in his style and in understanding the
expressive force of the male nude. In retrospect, the Florence
work shows a tentative investigation of the body. The Paduan
works show greater confidence, even to the point of occa­
sional exaggeration. The faces of the two later Paduan figures
more directly address the suffering of Christ and evoke pathos
in the viewer. In the bronze, a Y-shaped vein protrudes on
Christ’s forehead, the mouth hints at a last breath, and the
details of hair and beard are described with a rugged realism.
The Paduan wood shows even greater modulation of form in
the sunken cheeks and skin that seems to droop as the human
life force expires. Little wonder the image was seen to weep
blood in 1512, as proof of its miraculous nature.
The torsos of both Paduan works form a protruding semi­
circle at the thorax, revealing the edge of the ribcage and
heavily defined abdominal muscles. These parts seem unnat­
urally exaggerated, even anatomically questionable, but evoke
a powerful dramatic effect where the bodies, especially the
bronze, seem ready to explode from the torture of crucifixion.
donatello 184

Donatello understood the seeming paradox of realistic art


– that realism is effective to the extent that descriptions
appeal to perception, even at the expense of truth. Not until
Caravaggio would an artist build more emphatically on this
principle.

sculptur e as theatr e
Donatello’s realism was one of several characteristics of his
art that anticipated the Baroque style to come 150 years later.
In his most elaborate Paduan endeavour, Donatello gave
rise to such theatricality, and challenged space and time so
thoroughly, that he called to mind much later artists, such as
Bernini in sculpture and Rubens in painting. The venue for
this display was the fashioning of a new altar ensemble for the
church of St Anthony.23 The church housed the tomb of St
Anthony, who died in 1231. It became both a significant pil­
grimage site and a considerable point of pride for the city,
and millions still visit the church annually.
We do not know the precise original appearance of Dona­
tello’s altar, since it has been disassembled and reassembled
several times and the present organization dates only from
1895 (illus. 58). Still, certain parameters are determinable
from what survives. Donatello contributed seven large bronze
statues (the Madonna and Child enthroned, and saints
Francis, Anthony, Louis of Toulouse, Prosdocimus, Daniel
and Justina); four narrative reliefs with stories of St Anthony;
four reliefs with symbols of the evangelists; twelve reliefs with
angels (some with two angels each); and a relief of the Pietà.
He also completed a stone relief of the Entombment. These
185 The Paduan Journey

individual pieces coordinated with additional elements within


an elaborate architectural setting. Donatello worked over a
relatively short period, starting by 1446 and installing at least
the majority of sculptures in time for the feast of St Anthony
on 13 June 1450. Adjustments continued afterwards and the
unequal quality of finish both within individual figures and
between them leads one to question whether it was ever actu­
ally finished to plan. Indeed Donatello was still owed money
when he left Padua in 1454, indicating at a minimum a lack
of closure.
To understand the magnitude of Donatello’s attempted
innovations, certain traditions must be identified. The first was

58 High altar (modern arrangement of 1895), San Antonio, Padua.


donatello 186

the widespread practice in Italy of displaying painted altar­


pieces over the high altar of churches. These were often large
and elaborate, such as Duccio’s Maestà altarpiece in Siena
which originally measured around 5 m (about 16½ ft) in both
height and width, and sculpture was generally included only
as an enhancement, for example by adding candle bearers.24
The basic iconographic format is called a sacra conversazione, or
holy conversation.25 This composition included a Madonna

59 Mantegna, San Zeno Altarpiece, 1456–9, panel.


187 The Paduan Journey

and Child enthroned in the centre of the painting and saints


surrounding them in equal numbers on respective sides. These
altarpieces generally rested on a narrow horizontal base called
a predella, which often contained stories of saints important to
the setting or patron. Mantegna’s San Zeno Altarpiece in Verona
stands as a fine example of this type of altarpiece in the Veneto
(illus. 59). The artist painted the work between 1456 and
1459 and was highly informed by Donatello’s Paduan altar.26
Mantegna’s work features an enthroned Madonna and Child
flanked by four saints on each side and set within a believ­
able architectural space. The predella bears three scenes of
Christ. The whole conforms magnificently to the expectations
Donatello sought to challenge by way of sculpture.
Donatello’s altar design transformed the assumptions of
the altarpiece from a fictional representation of a spiritual
world on a two-dimensional surface to a thrilling new stage
that offered the third dimension in real space. In this regard
Donatello thrust a riposte to Alberti and his thesis, articulated
in On Painting, that the picture functions as a window through
which one envisions the historia, or the narrative scene. This
thesis forms the basis of much European painting until the
early twentieth century when artists like Picasso and Braque
destroyed that window through Cubism. Donatello confronts
Alberti with this work of sculpture, staged in a temple-like
setting informed in part by Alberti’s architectural theories,
but that had as much to do with theatre and ceremony as
architecture and painting.27 It relates to staged Nativity scenes
and Passion plays and anticipates the later calvary scenes that
became popular pilgrimage sites in northern Italy in subse­
quent generations. This alternative reality of holy figures was
donatello 188

contiguous with the viewer’s own and thus formed part of an


actual physical experience. The setting is more literal than
any painting, in the here and now and in three dimensions,
and the spectator could be part of this miracle of art and faith.
A modern analogy would be the difference between watching
a live play from front-row seats and watching a movie from
the back row. The immediacy of the former can be simulated
through special effects in the latter but not equalled. And in
this case the ultimate performance was the solemn Christian
ritual of the ceremonial Mass.
Each part of Donatello’s ensemble humbles itself to the
greater whole, but many of the individual contributions are
masterpieces in and of themselves. The Madonna and Child
literally take centre stage on a proscenium (illus. 60), high­
lighted by the Madonna’s ethereal face and Christ’s naturalistic
body. In an unusual feature, the Madonna does not appear to
remain seated but instead begins the process of rising. With
this action she implicitly inches the Christ Child forward into
the viewer’s space, subtly recalling a miracle of St Anthony
when the Christ Child appeared to him in bodily form. This
extraordinary interpretation was never repeated in exact form
in fifteenth-century sculpture. The Virgin’s throne features
sphinx-like heads on the arm rests and her unusual crown
adds to the exoticism of her appearance. Critics have pointed
out various precedents in the art of classical Greece and
Rome, or in Byzantine and Etruscan objects, or have explained
idiosyncrasies by way of patrons or local preferences, but,
whatever his sources, Donatello’s art is uniquely informed by
a tremendous recall of precedent which he reinterprets into
new forms and endows with new relevance.
189 The Paduan Journey

The six saints display a remarkable variety of expression,


admittedly unequal in effect. They clearly show other hands
alternating with Donatello’s, but all hold to a high standard.
The rugged realism of the faces of saints Francis and Anthony
contrast with the genuine sincerity and simplicity of Daniel’s.
The excited, almost agitated movement in the clothes and
body of Justina, who stands in exaggerated contrapposto,

60 Donatello, detail of Madonna and Child with St Anthony and St Francis from high
altar (illus. 58), San Antonio, Padua, 1446–50, bronze.
donatello 190

contrasts with the rather unexpressively posed Louis and the


almost retrograde Prosdocimus, the first Bishop of Padua.
Some of the variation can be attributed to Donatello’s
assistants and to the unfinished nature of the work when
Donatello left Padua. Documents of 1447 reveal the names of
many of these collaborators. Niccolò Pizzolo emerges as a
familiar name, and as a painter he probably helped with sketches
and with the narrative reliefs. Sculptors included Urbano da
Cortona, Giovanni da Pisa, Antonio Chellini and Francesco
del Valente, men of differing talent and artistic temperament.28
Donatello gave them particular freedom with the reliefs of
the Evangelists and some of the angels, and the occasional
banality of these reliefs highlights the contrast between their
capable mediocrity and Donatello’s genius.
Where Donatello remained fully engaged, the results
explain why his capriciousness was so tolerated by patrons.
The relief featuring an angel playing double pipes provides
a good example. This angel – a spiritello at heart – displays a
dynamic cross-axial composition as he strides to his left (view­
er’s right) while turning his torso in the other direction. The
difficult contortion is handled as effortlessly as the expert turn
of a Parthian bowman. The angel’s body displays not so much
a contrapposto as a helical figura serpentinata, more fully realized
in the round only in the next century by artists such as Michel­
angelo and Giambologna. Many of the angels have elements
that project off the relief plane, but the movement of this
figure exudes an uncommon agility as his right foot extends
from the frame as if poised to pivot his body into our space.
The graceful and effortless athleticism of this movement is
unseen elsewhere.
191 The Paduan Journey

The reliefs depicting miracles of St Anthony present a


different matter of personal involvement. Donatello fully
absorbed himself in their realization and consistently showed
his indisputable genius. He here achieves a symphony of per­
spective, narrative power, spiritual consequence and masterful
technique. Money says something both in our century and in
theirs, and in fact Donatello received 85 ducats for each of
these reliefs versus 40 ducats for some of the individual fig­
ures. Some of these latter were much larger in size but less
daring in scope, thus the monetary difference may be accorded
at least in part to the value of the artistry.
Donatello based the reliefs on a remarkable textual source
written about 1435, the Sancti Antonii confessoris de Padua vita (Life
of St Anthony of Padua) by Sicco Polenton.29 Shortly there­
after, in 1439, an illuminated manuscript containing the Life
was chained to a reading desk in the sacristy of the church,
and Donatello could have easily consulted it, perhaps together
with his patrons and advisers. From this source, Donatello
interpreted in bronze relief four representative miracles of
St Anthony.
Each scene takes place in an elaborate and individualized
architectural setting, generally configured with the action in
the centre and onlookers reacting at the sides. The format re­­
inforces the nature of the reliefs as analogous to predella
panels complementing the sacra conversazione presented in the
free-standing figures above. The architecture throughout
the panels shows complex and progressive powers of inven­
tion. Donatello had already proven his talents in Florence in
sculpture of all types as well as in designs for other objects,
such as stained glass. In Padua he achieved some recognition
donatello 192

for his independent architectural ideas. In 1447 he even


engaged in making a model, in wood covered in wax, for a
chapel to be erected in Venice for an unnamed Florentine
confraternity, but it never came to fruition.30 While he may
have drawn information from other buildings and the theo­
ries of Brunelleschi, Alberti, Vitruvius and others, ultimately
Donatello laid claim to his own unique architectural
designs.
193 The Paduan Journey

The Miracle of the Mule presents the clearest narration. In


this story the donkey of a non-believer chose to kneel before
the host rather than seek an offering of food, giving evidence
of the sanctity of the Eucharist and the primacy of spiritual
nourishment. Donatello creates a stage set with three barrel
vaults, with the effect of peering through a triumphal arch,
giving gravity to the central theme. Excited onlookers popu­
late either side, and in the centre Anthony offers the host to

61 Donatello, detail of Relief of the Miracle of the Repentant Son from high altar
(illus. 58), San Antonio, Padua, 1446–50, gilded bronze.
donatello 194

the kneeling animal. The scene carries all the grandeur and
majesty of ancient Rome transformed into a triumph of Chris­
tian faith through the Eucharistic host.
The Miracle of the New-born Child offers an architectural
complement featuring a tableau with a flat coffered ceiling
supported by a series of arches. This time the architecture ref­
erences domestic buildings. In this miraculous story a man
accused his pregnant wife of adultery, but when the baby was
born Anthony had the child speak the name of his father,
which was indeed that of his mother’s husband. The scene thus
celebrates the triumph of truth through faith and the essence
of the familial unit.
The third scene evokes ecclesiastical architecture in the
centre and palatial architecture on the sides, defining a con­
trast because this miracle emphasizes the primacy of spiritual
wealth over material greed. Upon the death of a rich man in
Florence, Anthony quoted Matthew 6:21: ‘Where your treas­
ure is, there is your heart.’ The man’s heart was then found
in his coffers rather than his body’s empty chest cavity. This
Miracle of the Miser’s Heart affirmed church policy against usury
and, of course, advocated for enrichment of the spirit above
worldly concerns.
The final scene occurs in the most distinctive setting (illus.
61). It takes place out of doors in a space surrounded by steps
or tiered seating as if constructed for public spectacle, evoking
an actual theatre or, more explicitly here, a surgical theatre.31
The sun appears prominently in the sky and is the key ele­
ment in this affirmation of the truth of miracles enacted by
humans with the help of God. In this Miracle of the Repentant
Son a boy who had kicked his mother confessed to St Anthony,
195 The Paduan Journey

earning a rebuke as well as absolution. Misunderstanding


Anthony’s words, the simple-minded boy cut off his own foot
with an axe. Anthony was summoned and reattached the foot.
The story’s themes combine issues of the divine power of
confession, the repentance and forgiveness of sin, and the
miraculous ability to find healing with the assistance of faith.
In each scene Donatello marries the overall setting to its
theme and in the details offers insightful moments revealing
a wide range of human emotion. Through the onlookers we
find amazement at a kneeling mule, intense relief when a baby
speaks his father’s name, horror at finding a human heart in a
miser’s treasure chest and inestimable grief for an injured boy.
Donatello took no shortcuts, as each scene contains some­
where between twenty and fifty individuals, or more, since
it is impossible to count accurately due to the complexity of
arrangements. Architectural details provide practically lim­
itless opportunities for visual exploration. Collectively, the
reliefs comprise parts of a sculpted predella that reinforce the
power of the miracle seen above them – that of the Madonna
and Child surrounded by saints. As once granted to Anthony,
a miracle manifests itself to the present audience.
We will never know the precise arrangement of Donatello’s
Paduan altar as originally intended, particularly the full scope
of the architecture and how the individual parts precisely
coalesced into a greater whole. On the bronze surfaces, only
part of the original gilding and silvering remain, with enough
indication that Donatello both applied the metals over the
base bronze and inlaid them though damascening techniques.
The reliefs were thus less monochromatic than seen today and,
as with all his techniques, were enriched to enhance meaning
donatello 196

in addition to visual delight. One additional highlight exists


in a stone relief of the Entombment that probably served as a
centrepiece on one side of the altar. The scene, largely carved
by Donatello himself, evokes an engaging emotional intensity,
with a frenzy of activity surrounding the burial of Christ.
Executed in a local material, pietra di Nanto, a stone of often red­
dish hue, the relief contains green and purple inlays and offers
a striking visual complement to the bronzes, thus embellishing
the altar’s surrounds with a jewel at its core.
Issues of viewership and meaning remain. We would profit
from knowing the precise arrangement of saints, how they
affected the altar’s perspective and sense of depth, and how
they contributed to the altar as religious theatre, especially for
an audience accustomed to miracle plays, elaborate Eucharistic
ceremonies and other Church spectacles. Knowing the orig­
inal arrangement might help to understand better how the
altar may have referenced the tomb of St Anthony and evoked
funereal imagery or even the idea of the Virgin’s Immaculate
Conception.32 Viewing and access may have differed substan­
tially according to the participant’s social position, from
pilgrims to clergy, elites to commoners, and from locals to
foreign visitors.33 Despite all these unknowns, it is certain that
by the time Donatello left Padua he had indeed created a
masterpiece – dare one say a miracle – of art.34

intimate encounters
The Gattamelata and works for the church of the Santo are
sculptures on a large monumental scale, but throughout his
career Donatello also spent considerable efforts on smaller
197 The Paduan Journey

and more intimate objects. They could be produced rapidly,


were likely quite profitable, being in high demand, and they
provided opportunities for experimentation that offered
minimal risk and considerable gain. The most successful of
these objects he was loath to part with, keeping some until his
return to Florence, where they could be immediately revealed
to show his mastery and artistic growth while in Padua. Vasari
mentions various other works that Donatello completed in
Padua, though he is highly inaccurate about this part of Dona­­
tello’s life. He lists a wooden skeleton of a horse, a wooden
statue of St Sebastian, and other figures in clay, stucco and
marble, including a Madonna.
One such precious artefact from Donatello’s Paduan
workshop is a small bronze relief depicting the Martyrdom
of St Sebastian (illus. 62).35 Despite its diminutive size, about
26 × 24 cm (10½ × 9½ in.), it carries a grandiosity of spirit in
its masterful depiction of the event. Sebastian’s body appears
actual and vulnerable, the angel sincere and the archers deter­
mined. Sebastian’s vividly described face seems resigned to
his torture yet not defeated in his faith. Donatello’s greatest
expressive moments prove equally effective whether seen as
part of a grand public display or in the more intimate setting
of a private object meant to be held and inspected up close.
He found ways to pull the viewer into a world of the spiritual
no matter the medium, scale or religious subject.
The Madonna and Child was the most popular single artis­
tic theme of the Renaissance and Donatello certainly catered
to this market. In 1450 Ludovico Gonzaga ordered, among
other objects, three Madonna reliefs from Donatello’s studio,
two in terracotta and one in tufo stone.36 Donatello produced
62 Donatello, Martyrdom of St Sebastian, c. 1450, bronze.
199 The Paduan Journey

reliefs in large quantities and in almost every reasonably


conceivable medium. For example, we know of about two
dozen versions of the so-called Verona Madonna in materials
including terracotta, stucco and cartapesta (a paper medium
similar to papier mâché), and some of them bear added pig­
ment or gilding.37 Not all the present productions are from
the fifteenth century, but the overall designs must be based
on Donatello originals.38 One of these reliefs is embedded
in the exterior of a building in Verona (hence the name) on
the via delle Fogge at the corner of corso Santa Anastasia,
installed between casts of two angels from the Padua altar
(illus. 63). It serves as an important reminder of the ubiquity
of these reliefs, both inside the home and in churches, and
also on the exterior of architectural structures, such as houses,
shops, gates and loggias. The Verona Madonna type has unusual
intensity as the Madonna clutches the child close to her body.
The fingers of her left hand form a protective brace around
his fragile neck and head while her right hand grips the child’s
rear, making sure he is safe and secure at her bosom. With her
cheek she caresses his forehead. Its design cannot have been
conceived without the careful observation of actual women
and children.
A more intimate work that Donatello kept with him until
he returned to Florence is the remarkable Chellini Madonna
(illus. 64). When Donatello left Padua he suffered from var­
ious maladies and did not consider himself fully cured until
receiving treatment from a doctor in Florence named Gio­
vanni Chellini. The two became friends and we know Chellini’s
appearance through his portrait bust sculpted in 1456 by
Antonio Rossel­lino. In that same year Donatello presented
63 After Donatello, Verona Madonna, original design c. 1450, stucco.
201 The Paduan Journey

to Chellini one of the most unusual sculpted objects of the


Italian Renaissance, a bronze roundel about 28.5 cm (11¼
inches) in diameter.39 On one side it features a beautiful relief
of the Madonna and Child – a remarkable work in and of
itself. The Madonna holds the child and they sit before a
parapet, which seems the only barrier to the figures emerging
fully into the viewer’s space. Excited angels appear on either
side and the border contains decorative pseudo-Kufic script.
The size, shape and portability of the object relate it to trad­
itional birth trays that were used to serve meals to a new
mother just after the birth of a child.40 In the relief, one angel
pats the stomach of a companion angel who holds a tray of

64 Donatello, Madonna and Child Roundel (Chellini Madonna), c. 1450, gilt bronze.
donatello 202

this type, furthering this association. Another angel, on the


left, claps as if offering congratulations.
Making the object even more unusual is that its reverse
serves as a mould, specifically to make glass replicas (though
other media could be used) that exactly reproduce the obverse
image. In this medium its round format recalls stained-glass
rose windows devoted to the Virgin Mary, and light passing
through the glass roundel would have immediately called to
mind frequent analogies made to the Virgin Mary, such as
the popular hymn sung during the feast of the Nativity and
referenced on the frame of a Madonna picture by Jan van
Eyck: ‘As the sunbeam through the glass passes but not stains,
thus the Virgin, as she was, virgin still remains.’41 Whether
reflecting off the partially gilded bronze or shining through
the glass casts, light and its manipulation was a thrilling way to
instil spiritual meaning into an object, especially the Madonna
and Child relief, which always risked seeming stale and ordin­
ary. The bronze roundel, with its capacity for replication,
was an extraordinary gift, and it must have been difficult for
Donatello to part with such a precious and unique object,
though he was not an overly sentimental individual. Perhaps
an enlightened doctor was the perfect recipient, but there
was no anticipating this when Donatello packed the object
to ship to Florence. It was likely meant to keep, but cheating
death precipitates unusual impulses.
A telling example of how Donatello thought about media
like no other artist exists in an unusual terracotta relief of
the Madonna and Child produced around the same time and
called the Madonna Piot, after a former collector (illus. 65). 42
Like other similarly shaped and composed objects, including
203 The Paduan Journey

the Chellini Madonna, it was probably intended for domestic


display. The intense dynamic between the Madonna and
Child engages in its own right – with meaningful eye contact,
expressive faces and body positions in perfect harmony with
each other. The delicate description of the Madonna’s veil
and elaborate fabric of her clothing suggest it may be the
Donatello relief described similarly by Vasari in the sixteenth
century as then residing in the Florentine palace of Bartolo­
meo Gondi, who possessed an impressive art collection.43 But
the most extraordinary and unprecedented feature is the
use of glass to populate the backdrop, giving visual energy
to a standard composition that must often have seemed
formulaic. Donatello followed no pre-existing model for this
invention. He here developed a unique background pattern
for the relief, featuring vases and heads of angels, by using the
technique of gold or wax embedded beneath glass (sometimes
called verre églomisé). As with the Chellini Madonna, with which
the Madonna Piot shares stylistic and other affinities, Don­
atello here exploited the effects of glass and could have easily
looked for expertise from the formidable glass industry in
Venice. The Madonna Piot once bore traces of gilding and in
its original condition the optical effects of the various media
must have made the relief one of the most striking Madonna
and Child displays of the Renaissance.
The impact of Donatello’s Madonna reliefs is seen not just
in the considerable number of works of the kind but also in
the effects they had in transmitting his ideas to other artists
and through them to a wider public. Andrea Mantegna’s paint­
ings, for example, profoundly affected the course of Western
art and the artist was deeply influenced by the innovations of
donatello 204

Donatello. Mantegna’s compositions of the Madonna and


Child, in particular, show the arrangements and emotional
intensity that so defined Donatello’s particular articulations
of the scene.44 Jacopo Bellini (father-in-law to Mantegna and
father of Gentile and Giovanni Bellini) may have met Dona­
tello in Florence in 1423, but the greatest effects on his art
are seen after Donatello’s arrival in Padua.45 These are manifest

65 Donatello, Madonna Piot, c. 1450, terracotta with traces of gilding and


medallions with wax beneath glass.
205 The Paduan Journey

in images not only of the Madonna and Child but in Jacopo’s


studies of equestrian themes, spiritelli, and the use of archi­
tecture as believable stage settings. Many other artists were
equally affected by Donatello’s presence in Padua, which must
have been gratifying to the artist, but peer approval was not
enough to convince him to remain. It may even have been an
inducement to leave.
Donatello left Padua with some ambivalence. Vasari has
him acknowledging his celebrity in the city but also bemoan­
ing the lack of critical stimulus. Things may have become too
routine for an artist who valued challenges, competition and
honest feedback. Another reason for his move may have been
health-related, as implied by his later medical treatment and
a musing after the fact related in a letter of 1458 when he com­
mented about his return to Tuscany (he was in Siena at the
time) that it was ‘so as not to die among those Paduan frogs’. 46
This may also have been a slight against his Padua hosts for
being relatively unsophisticated. Whatever the reasons, he
left as precipitously as he had arrived. He had come to create
the Gattamelata statue, a challenge he successfully completed.
Once certain accounts were settled, in October 1453, he made
plans to leave the city even with money still owed and sculp­
tures unfinished for the Santo. In November he sought the
return of marble slabs from the brother of the painter Niccolò
Pizzolo. There was some reason to go to Modena instead of
Florence. That March an emissary from Modena arrived in
Padua to convince Donatello to complete the statue of Borso
d’Este and reported back that the sculptor would soon arrive.
Typical of Donatello, he went to Florence instead, and nothing
more is heard of the Modena commission.
donatello 206

By November 1454 Donatello was renting a new home and


studio in Florence, so it is generally assumed that he returned
to his native city earlier that year. He probably expected a cele­
bratory homecoming and a multitude of commissions falling
his way. The reality turned out to be rather different.
five

Homecoming

A
hero’s return is never easy. In myths and legends
he generally comes home to find it much different
from when he left. Typically, new circumstances
and new expectations present unexpected difficulties. The
hero often leaves again. Such was the case with Donatello.

fashioning a legacY
A frustrating dearth of documentation obscures Donatello’s
initial return to Florence, with neither major new commis­
sions nor renewed activity on lapsed ones recorded. Other
than the Medici, interest in Donatello’s services came from
outside Florence – from Siena, Naples and Mantua.
Donatello’s health may hold a key to understanding his
activity, because his known work and documented activity
pick up dramatically after he received cures from Giovanni
Chellini, as the doctor recorded in 1456. At this point Dona­
tello was about seventy years old, an impressively advanced
age in the fifteenth century. Lack of steady income plagued
Donatello, and art may have been what little he possessed to
offer in exchange for services, as when he gifted the doctor the
remarkable bronze Madonna and Child roundel. The few
donatello 208

documentary references in these early post-Paduan years are


informative, however. In September 1454 a letter from Piero
di Cosimo de’ Medici, in Faenza, to a business associate lists
the shipment of three objects belonging to Donatello: a
bronze relief, a bronze portrait head and an old container
(perhaps an antiquity).1 It confirms that Donatello returned
from Padua with his Medici associations intact and with
portable works of art in transit.
In November 1454 Donatello rented a house with studio
space near the cathedral workshop. They probably encom­
passed the same premises he had occupied before leaving
Florence, which had also been used by Michelozzo, who was
due reimbursement for having fixed the roof. In fact, the two
artists re-established their friendship, though with their per­
sonal circumstances substantially altered. Michelozzo had
married in 1441 and now had children and enjoyed consistent
patronage from the Medici. Donatello arrived in Florence
without new commissions, sick, and with no close family to
speak of. In April 1455 he and Michelozzo sent a letter to Prato
offering to make amends for any deficiencies with the pulpit
there, an undertaking that still seemed to haunt them, but it
came to naught. In October of that year Donatello travelled
briefly to Volterra on business for the Medici. Just before he
left, he was paid – or underpaid in Donatello’s estimation – for
two images of the Virgin Mary, and he went to oversee marble
work for a studio or writing desk intended for a property at
Fiesole belonging to Giovanni de’ Medici.2 The Madonnas
were also intended for Fiesole. Clearly Donatello was well
ensconced with the Medici but the works mentioned are
rather minor. In March 1456 Donatello named a representative
209 Homecoming

to intervene on his behalf to make claims for money owed


from Padua. Finally, in August that year Chellini records his
cure for Donatello and the gift of the bronze roundel. Common
to these documents is a concern for money and the fact that
Donatello did not take on anything of major importance or
exertion. Donatello’s tax return of 1457 lists no commissions
and few assets.
Here we face a critical conundrum, because many works
attributed to Donatello fall precisely during this period of
documentary paucity. In this regard most of the relevant
objects concern either Madonna and Child reliefs or decora­
tive furnishings. Between health issues and the need for
immediate money, Donatello may have turned to the produc­
tion of small and quickly produced objects, especially since he
could delegate much of the sculpting to assistants. Vasari lists
Donatello’s many reliefs of the Madonna and Child, plus
assorted smaller-scale ecclesiastical and domestic works,
and affirms,

He put his hand not only to great things . . . but also to


the smallest things of art, making the arms of families
on the chimney-pieces and on the fronts of the houses
of citizens . . . For the family of the Martelli, moreover,
he made a coffin in the form of a cradle wrought of
wicker-work, to serve for a tomb.3

Donatello had always been a collaborator, especially with works


in bronze, and it stands to reason that he sought assistance in
manufacturing various objects upon his return to Florence,
either out of necessity or by temperament.
66 Donatello and Assistant (Desiderio da Settignano),
Boni Family Coat of Arms, c. 1454–7, pietra di macigno.
211 Homecoming

Some of these extant works of the type mentioned by


Vasari bear this out. Two beautiful examples of coats of arms
belonged to the Martelli and the Boni families respectively.4
Modern critics generally accept that they may both be works
of Donatello’s design executed by another sculptor. We lack
precise definitions for these relationships and whether the
carvers should be thought of as students, followers, assistants,
subcontractors or simply collaborating colleagues. We know
Donatello eventually formulated all of these relationships
after his return to Florence, while period documents con­
sistently attribute the resulting work solely to the master from
whom it was commissioned.
The coats of arms present cases in point. Coats of arms
normally included a shield with the family insignia, often
presented by a spiritello, as seen on many tombs. The Boni and
Martelli examples play upon these precedents but also break
the mould of conformity. Both are carved in pietra di macigno, a
popular stone choice for this type of object in Florence because
it was an economical local product and made a positive civic
statement by way of materiality. The Boni Family Coat of Arms
shows a rampant lion on the shield (illus. 66). The lion in turn
wears a smaller shield that originally bore the Angevin lily.
What sets this work apart, in the end, is the unprecedented
arrangement of the spiritello, who stands amid clouds and, with
a wide grin, struggles to lift the large shield upward with the
help of a strap that wraps around the back of his neck. Typical
of Donatello, the putto is not a mere accoutrement but an
active protagonist who animates what would normally be a
rather staid display of heraldry. The carving of this element
seems less in the style of Donatello, however, and more like
donatello 212

that of one of the most talented carvers of the 1450s, a young


man named Desiderio da Settignano, who entered the sculp­
tors’ guild in 1453. On Donatello’s return from Padua,
Desiderio would not have been a student or workshop assis­
tant but a colleague and the only Florentine sculptor who
might have rivalled Donatello in the carving of rilievo schiacciato.
Unfortunately, Desiderio died in his thirties, two years before
Donatello.5
The Martelli Family Coat of Arms displays similar composi­
tional and stylistic traits (illus. 67). In this case the shield
features the Martelli gryphon. A spiritello struggles to support
the shield via a strap around his neck and is partly obscured
in the process. His face bears deep-set eyes and an open
mouth, as if groaning, while his left fingers grip the shield
tightly. These exaggerations are typical of Donatello and
appropriate for a work that was to be seen out of doors
and at a distance from below. The carving itself again re­
calls Desi­derio more than Donatello, suggesting another
collaboration.
Desiderio was a virtuoso stone carver and almost certainly
executed the elaborate sarcophagus of Niccolò and Fioretta
Martelli (illus. 69) found in San Lorenzo and attributed by
Vasari to Donatello.6 Its lower portion displays a woven pat­
tern, as if the object were made of wicker rather than marble.
This mimetic conceit, whereby one substance might be seen
to magically transform into another, loomed central in Dona­
tello’s thinking. The carving of the work, however, presents
more of a technical challenge than an expressive one and
offered a perfect opportunity to let younger and more nimble
hands complete the task.
67 Donatello and Assistant (Desiderio da Settignano), Martelli Family
Coat of Arms, c. 1454–7, pietra di macigno.
68 Donatello and Assistant (Desiderio da Settignano),
St John the Baptist (Martelli Baptist), c. 1454–7, marble.
215 Homecoming

Various members of the Martelli family were close allies


and business partners with the Medici, and Donatello had
already received assistance from Roberto Martelli in Rome in
the 1430s. One additional Martelli work from this period is a
marble statue of St John the Baptist commissioned by Roberto
Martelli (illus. 68).7 Though all the older sources attribute the
work to Donatello, the visual evidence again suggests the
ambivalent nature of a collaborative work initiated by
Donatello and executed by Desiderio da Settignano. It is even
possible that the Martelli Baptist was designed by Donatello
while still in Padua but that its execution had to wait until he
had the following elements in place: an expert carver to real­
ize the figure, high-quality marble as a worthy medium and
a willing patron to finance its making. The figure has a nervous
energy, with even the tufts on the camel-hair cloak bristling
with excitement and conveying spiritual revelation. Once
completed, the family so treasured the work that Roberto’s
son included it in his will with the express desire that the
statue never be alienated from Martelli possession.

69 Donatello and Assistant (Desiderio da Settignano), Martelli sarcophagus,


c. 1454–7, marble.
donatello 216

The role of Donatello as mentor and exemplar, both


directly and indirectly, once he returned to Florence from
Padua cannot be overstated. In 1454 Donatello was roughly 68
years old and certainly the elder statesman of his profession.
What he may have lacked in manual dexterity he made up for
with experience, reputation and unquestionable talent. And if

70 Donatello, Judith and Holofernes, c. 1456, bronze.


217 Homecoming

only a fraction of the quips attributed to him are true, he must


have been one of the most witty and colourful of characters
with whom to associate.
Florence in the 1450s boasted many promising young
sculptors, but none of Donatello’s brilliance. The old guard
consisted of figures like Lorenzo Ghiberti, who died in 1455,
leaving a capable but less creative son named Vittorio in
charge of the studio. Vittorio concentrated more on heavy
bronze foundry work, such as making bells and cannon, rather
than on statuary. Luca della Robbia still practised as a sculptor,
but his most lasting innovations moving forward belonged to
his family’s manufacturing of glazed terracotta. Michelozzo
mostly confined his later activity to the field of architecture.
A generation after the death of Donatello, Lorenzo de’
Medici (called Lorenzo the Magnificent) would mourn the
dearth of great young sculptors and set in motion a course of
corrective action through a Donatello assistant named Ber­
toldo di Giovanni, who taught the young Michelangelo and
Pietro Torrigiano, among others. Bertoldo established the
connection between Donatello and Michelangelo and the
perception, however unfair, that between these two great fig­
ures lay much talent but little genius. Vasari lists some of these
followers as Bertoldo, Nanni di Banco (clearly inaccurate),
Antonio Rossellino, Desiderio da Settignano and Bar­­t­o­­lomeo
Bellano. Many additional sculptors followed in Donatello’s
footsteps – Verrocchio and Antonio Pollaiuolo deserve
mention – but the fact was that in mid-century Florence
Dona­tello’s influence was so powerful as to be inescapable,
and no other sculptor rose to his level of prominence during
the master’s lifetime.
donatello 218

The younger generation witnessed Donatello bringing


to complete fruition only one masterpiece in this late period:
the bronze statue of Judith and Holofernes (illus. 70).8 Donatello’s
pride in the artistry of this work led him to the rare act of
signing his work, as he had done on the marble base of the
Gattamelata statue. Beneath the limply hanging hands of
Holofernes it reads: opvs donatelli·flo (work of Dona­
tello the Florentine). Probably initiated around 1456, Donatello
finished the bronze either just before or just after he made a
new sojourn to Siena. The commission is undocumented,
and the work is first mentioned as residing in the garden of
the Medici palace.9 A visitor to the palace in the mid-fifteenth
century would have entered into its courtyard to find Dona­
tello’s bronze David (transferred from the former Medici palace),
and invited guests would have proceeded into the garden to
be greeted by the Judith and Holofernes. Of the many sculptures
in these spaces, including antiquities restored by Donatello,
these great bronzes stood out as the most conspicuous and
prestigious objects. During the Renaissance, David and Judith
were seen as counterparts. Both were willing to sacrifice
themselves for their people and both defeated, even humili­
ated, their enemy through the act of decapitation. In the
Renaissance context their acts represented justifiable and
honourable tyrannicide.
Donatello’s depiction of Judith and Holofernes is blatantly
violent, provocatively sexual and implicitly political. In the
biblical story the beautiful Jewish widow named Judith, from
Bethulia, determines to rescue her town and people then
under siege by the formidable Assyrian and pagan general
Holofernes. She seduces the general though never actually
219 Homecoming

delivers him sexual gratification. Instead, Judith encourages


Holofernes to overindulge in food and wine and the antici­
pation of sex until he eventually passes out. She uses his own
sword to strike his neck not once but twice in order to sever
it. Her actions ultimately save her people.
Donatello’s depiction shows Judith straddling Holofernes
over his left shoulder, allowing his head to rest against her
upper thigh. She plants her right leg firmly at his crotch and
left leg at his back while she wields the sword to strike the
second blow to sever the head. A gruesome gash on Holofernes’
neck shows where the first blow had struck, and Judith’s face
carries the determination and purpose necessary to repeat the
violent act. Donatello perches the two figures atop a soft
pillow and this rests in turn upon a triangular pedestal pop­
ulated with spiritelli engaged in a bacchanalia featuring scenes
of wine, drunkenness and even vomiting from excessive alco­
hol.10 Donatello thereby weaves together the themes of
violence, indulgence, drink, sex and power. He makes much
of contrasts, between the semi-nude male and demurely cov­
ered female, the active heroine and passive foe, and purposeful
action and slothful indulgence. Possibilities to find meaningful
difference among the main characters are almost limitless.
The political dimension is implicit, but very real and pow­
erful. The statue embraces the idea of individual sacrifice for
one’s people, of humbling oneself for the greater good, and of
individual citizens standing up to tyrants and their lieutenants.
Both Judith and David represent the irrepressible underdog
and ultimately Florentine republicanism triumphing over
tyranny; thus the symbolism of the two statues becomes easily
intertwined.
donatello 220

To make the domestic political associations more con­


crete, the Medici added two early inscriptions to the statue’s
base. The first read, ‘Realms fall through luxury, cities rise
through their virtues. You see the proud neck cut by humility’s
hand.’11 By this means the Medici associated themselves with
the humble Judith, willing to dispense justice, even a violent
one, on those who fell into vice. A second inscription was
added by Piero de’ Medici sometime after the death of his
father Cosimo in 1464. It said:

Public Health [Salus Publicus]. Piero de’ Medici, son of


Cosimo, dedicated this statue of a woman to union of
strength and liberty, so that the citizens might be led
back via an invincible and constant spirit to the defence
of the republic.

‘Medici’ literally means medical doctors, and Salus Publicus,


or public health, was an often-used phrase.12 The explicit
reference to this female figure as personifying the union of
strength and liberty carries meaning that transcends the ages
in Western art, from Donatello’s fifteenth-century liberator
in Florence, who wields a sword, to nineteenth-century France
where Delacroix’s painted Liberty leads with a flag, and to the
United States of America where Bartholdi’s colossal statue
in New York Harbor promises liberty with her torch.
Ultimately, the Medici wished to be seen as defenders of
Florentine liberty at a time when they might have been
alternatively judged as looming closer to tyrants. Though a
private rather than a government building, the Palazzo
Medici was the real centre of political power. The ostensible
221 Homecoming

seat of government, the Palazzo della Signoria, had housed


Donatello’s marble statue of David since 1416, which by the
sixteenth century carried an inscription celebrating patriot­
ism while invoking divine intervention. By identifying with
Judith and David, the Medici created their own iconography
as liberators rather than oppressors and moulded public per­
ception to their liking. The disingenuousness of the statue
was not lost on the Florentines. To many, the Medici came
to be seen as despotic and their palace a den of luxury. Once
the Medici were expelled from the city in 1494 the state
confiscated the Judith and Holofernes statue, setting it the
following year in front of the Palazzo della Signoria with a
newly inscribed pedestal. The new words read: ‘An example
of public health, placed by the citizens, 1495’.13 Donatello’s
bronze David was also moved to the courtyard of the same
palazzo. At this point the Medici came to be identified with
Holo­fernes and Goliath rather than with Judith and David,
thus inverting the original intentions of both statues.

r ejuvenation in siena
As proud as he was to be a Florentine, and as well ensconced
as he was with the city’s leading citizens, Donatello left Flo­
rence in September 1457 with no intention to return. He
moved to Siena, where he reportedly ‘wished to live and die
. . . and make something singular’.14 Commissions for Siena
had been instrumental in Donatello’s early career though
he had never actually lived there. For Siena’s cathedral bap­
tistery he had created the moving figures of Faith and Hope,
developed the first true Renaissance spiritelli and established
donatello 222

a masterpiece of bronze relief with the Feast of Herod. He had


also sculpted the bronze tomb slab of Bishop Giovanni Pecci.
Donatello hoped this second phase of work for Siena would
prove to be as productive, and he had ample opportunity to
make it so.
The Sienese documents continually stress the desire for
Donatello to live and work there until the end of his life. The
Sienese generously accommodated the sculptor and the cath­
edral Operai provided for his living expenses. Unfortunately
for them, the relationship proved too volatile to be sustained
and only a few years later Donatello returned to Florence
with little of significance accomplished. A work that exempli­
fies the ambivalence of his Sienese sojourn is the bronze
statue of St John the Baptist commissioned for Siena Cathedral
(illus. 71).15 In 1457 the work arrived from Florence in three
pieces: the head and upper body, the rest of the torso down
to the knees and the knees down to the base. The right arm,
however, was missing. Our earliest sources explain this by
claiming a dispute over payment:

[Donatello] said he did not finish it because he had not


received the rest of his pay. And when he left Siena he
said that if they wanted him to finish the statue they
would have to pay him as much as they had paid for the
rest of the figure. Thus he left it incomplete.16

Donatello was certainly not above spite, nor did he readily


accept being underpaid for his services. The fact remains that
during Donatello’s lifetime the statue remained in storage,
probably because of the missing piece.
223 Homecoming

The present arm, an addition of unknown date, probably


mimics the position originally intended, which would have
been known from drawings or models.17 Compared to the
wooden statue of St John that Donatello sent to Venice, the
Siena version depicts a slightly older and more rugged interpre­
tation of the saint. The figure bears an awkward construction,
and it is pieced together such that the cloak seems stiffly
draped over the figure rather than conforming organically to
a body beneath. The face, though, bears much raw emotion,
as psychological investigation became ever more paramount
for Donatello in this final phase of his career. This moving
work in Siena describes suffering but not despair, and a
spiritual assuredness in the face of adversity.
Since the bronze St John the Baptist was cast in Florence, it
did not yet require Donatello to relocate from Florence, but
a larger commission beckoned and did just that. This was the
opportunity to cast a set of bronze doors for Siena Cathedral.
A major challenge, the doors would inevitably be compared
to those of the Florence Baptistery – both Ghiberti’s north
set, for which Donatello witnessed the competition between
Brunelleschi and Ghiberti, and Ghiberti’s east doors, which
are now known as the Gates of Paradise. Donatello had
previously completed two sets of bronze doors for the Old
Sacristy in San Lorenzo and still had a pending commission
to finish one of the two sets of sacristy doors for the interior
of Florence Cathedral, but none of these commanded the
same imposing scale or the added prominence of exterior
public viewing as would be the case in Siena. The Siena doors
could truly be works of singular accomplishment if that is
what he desired. The prestige of such a commission is hard to
71 Donatello, St John the Baptist, c. 1457, bronze.
225 Homecoming

exaggerate. In 1458 a letter by the Sienese statesman Leonardo


Benvoglienti calls the sculptor ‘Donatello, master of the doors’,
despite the sculptor’s many other claims to fame.18 Donatello’s
competitive spirit must have been piqued by the fact that
Siena and Florence saw themselves as rivals in every way, and
this work would adorn the most important building in Siena
– its magnificent cathedral.
Donatello threw himself into the work with enthusiasm,
and documents mention the making of wax panels that may
have served as demonstration pieces or as works in progress
being readied for casting. Heartbreakingly, these designs have
been lost forever, and Donatello left the city with nothing
from the doors having come to final fruition. The only extant
work that might be a remnant of relevant ideas is a relief of
the Lamentation now in the Victoria & Albert Museum in
London (illus. 72).19 Though dated to various periods of
Dona­tello’s career, the relief seems most consistent with
Donatello’s post-Paduan use of bronze. It is oddly constructed,
with its background intentionally excised so the piece could
be mounted to a complementary surface. It bears an experi­
mental quality, perhaps being a test piece since Donatello was
compelled to use a new foundry in Siena. In the Lamentation
Donatello created a moving and mysterious work, showing a
central Pietà consisting of Christ and the Virgin Mary, with
four surrounding figures. Again he explores the human psyche
with an emphasis on psychological pain and emotional suf­
fering. One mourner wrenches her hair and screams, another
holds his hands against his face, obliterating our view but
conveying emotion through theatrical body language. The
Virgin Mary displays unquenchable sorrow for the loss of her
donatello 226

son while his once powerful body slumps in death. It is a tour


de force of art that captures the complexity of human anguish.
Though only hypothetically connected to the cathedral door
project, the tone of this relief is consistent with Donatello’s
darker themes during his later years and it remains a tanta­
lizing suggestion of what these doors might have revealed.
The only other work brought to fruition in Siena is a
large round relief of the Virgin and Child sculpted in marble
for the chapel of the Madonna delle Grazie in Siena Cath­edral
(illus. 73).20 It did not begin as Donatello’s commission. In 1451
Urbano da Cortona and his brother, Bartolomeo, had con­
tracted to construct an ornate architectural framework for

72 Donatello, Lamentation, c. 1458–9, bronze.


227 Homecoming

the chapel’s entrance that was to include a sculpted Madonna


and Child. Urbano had previously worked with Donatello in
Padua and proved to be a trusted collaborator throughout the
Sienese years, especially with activity in bronze.21 By 1457,
with work in the chapel still incomplete, the Sienese dangled
a piece of this commission to Donatello as one of the entice­
ments for him to relocate from Florence to Siena. Donatello’s
involvement did come at some expense to Urbano, who had
to alter his structure and displace his own, vastly inferior,
Madonna and Child relief, but he ended up well compensated

73 Donatello and Assistant, Madonna delle Grazie, 1457–9, marble with


blue glass inlay.
donatello 228

for his troubles. The artists completed the work in 1459,


giving us a rare surviving and datable object from this period
in Donatello’s career, even if much of the work was executed
by collaborators.
Donatello’s relief, called the Madonna delle Grazie, includes
lovely details in the faces of the main figures, while work on
the bodies and four angel heads in low relief do not live up to
the brilliant rilievo schiacciato effects the artist pioneered. Thus
Donatello received some carving assistance, perhaps much of
it from Urbano. The design of the Madonna relief, however,
is pure Donatello, as seen for example in the way the Christ
Child clutches the Virgin’s left shoulder in a manner so natural
and precious that it could only be derived from direct obser­
vation of such acts. The relief boasts a compelling perspective,
as if the viewer peers obliquely through an oculus from far
below. Its side coffers feature an inlay of dark green marble,
further enhancing the spatial effects, as does the placement
of the Virgin’s head, which overlaps the relief’s border and
emphasizes her forward projection into the viewer’s space. The
stylistic incongruities in the Madonna delle Grazie give us valuable
evidence that during his Sienese sojourn Donatello continued
his practice of substantial collaboration. This was always nec­
essary for work in bronze, but carving was probably taking an
ever greater toll on the determined but aged sculptor.22
Donatello needed the help of others in part because after
Chellini’s cures took full effect, interest in Donatello’s services
started to surge. Ludovico Gonzaga tried hard to bring the
sculptor to Mantua, prompting a flurry of correspondence in
1458 in which Donatello seems teasingly willing to go and
finish the ill-fated Arca di Sant’Anselmo. Meanwhile, from
229 Homecoming

1456 until 1458 Donatello was collaborating with the art dealer
Bartolomeo di Paolo Serragli, who had an impressive business
sending Florentine art to Naples and shipping classical art
from the Italian south up to Florence. Serragli acted as an
agent and intermediary between Alfonso v of Aragon, King
of Naples, and Donatello regarding the commissioning of a
bronze equestrian statue of the king. Both the king and
Serragli died in 1458, however, thus ending the project. The
only remnant of this scheme is a bronze horse’s head that
ended up with the Medici until being sent by Lorenzo the
Magnificent as a gift to an important dignitary in Naples.23
The Sienese initiated still more commissions, including a
marble statue of San Bernardino planned for the Loggia di
San Paolo, a prominent site that fronted the palace of the
powerful merchant’s guild. Donatello thus found himself with
no shortage of potential work and had purposely chosen Siena
when he relocated in 1457. His sudden departure after two
years therefore seems suspicious but, considering his past
behaviour, is perhaps not surprising.

the r eturn to san lor enzo


Always one to do the unanticipated, in 1459 Donatello
abruptly left Siena with the cathedral’s bronze doors still pend­
ing. The reasons for his departure remain murky. In April
the cathedral officials of Siena called Donatello ‘maker of
the bronze doors’ and gave him a bed and other objects for
his use as long as he was working there, yet on 1 June the cathe­
dral officials of Florence call him ‘carver and maker of the
sacristy doors’ while paying his rent due for a house on via
donatello 230

del Cocomero in Florence. The theme of doors had evidently


become a bone of civic contention.
There are various thoughts as to why Donatello aban­
doned Siena and returned to Florence. One account, from
Renaissance sources, has civic pride as the impetus, when an
emissary from Florence convinced Donatello that work as
consequential as cathedral doors belonged in Florence rather
than Siena and he should not so honour the Sienese. Patriot­
ism is often a convenient cover for self-interest, however.
More modern hypotheses argue that the reasons had to do
with money and ego. Each served as a constant Achilles heel
for Donatello, and documents do suggest that the Sienese were
having trouble funding the doors project in the midst of eco­
nomic difficulties.24 Donatello seems habitually unhappy with
his circumstances later in life, criticizing Florentines to the
Sienese, and vice versa, and even taking a swipe at Padua when
he told a Sienese patron in 1458 that he wanted to return to
Tuscany rather than die among Paduan frogs.25 The reasons
for leaving Siena may simply have been as straightforward as
homesickness or persistent health issues, as noted in letters.
The most likely impetus for Donatello’s departure, though,
is a summons from Cosimo de’ Medici. Like Donatello, Cosimo
was at an advanced age and may have realized that the two of
them had little time left to collaborate on another major
project. Cosimo had a spectacular one in mind. Donatello
thus headed home.
When Donatello made his final return to Florence he did
so under the full protection and sponsorship of Cosimo de’
Medici. The book merchant and biographer Vespasiano da
Bisticci wrote that ‘Cosimo, in order not to have Donatello
231 Homecoming

be idle, commissioned him to do some bronze pulpits for


San Lorenzo and some doors which were in the sacristy. He
ordered the bank to pay every week enough money for the
master and his four assistants, and in this way supported
him.’26 The story seems to be essentially correct, except that
the San Lorenzo doors had been done earlier, and Vasari adds
further details, writing:

[Donatello] passed his old age most joyously, and,


having become decrepit, he had to be succoured by
Cosimo and by others of his friends, being no longer
able to work. It is said that Cosimo, being at the point
of death, recommended him to the care of his son
Piero, who, as a most diligent executor of his father’s
wishes, gave him a farm at Cafaggiuolo, which pro­
duced enough to enable him to live in comfort.

True to character, Donatello returned the farm because it


involved too many mundane cares, saying he would rather
die of hunger. Vasari continues:

Piero laughed at the simplicity of Donato; and in order


to deliver him from this torment, he accepted the
farm (for on this Donato insisted), and assigned him
an allowance of the same value or more from his own
bank, to be paid in cash, which was handed over to
him every week in the due proportion owing to him;
whereby he was greatly contented. Thus, as a servant
and friend of the house of Medici, he lived happily and
free from care for the rest of his life.27
donatello 232

Vasari contrasts Donatello’s situation with that of his old


friend Michelozzo, who was always the more prudent of the
two and lived a more traditional family and financial life.
The San Lorenzo pulpits comprise the only major extant
sculptures undertaken by Donatello during his final years. It
is somehow fitting that they became a final artistic statement
in the same church where previous works (for the Old
Sacristy) had suffered such intense criticism that they may
have contributed to the artist once leaving Florence. The
pulpits are among the most difficult of Donatello’s works to
analyse, not least because it remains unclear whether they
were even intended to be pulpits at all. They achieved their
pres­ent form only at the beginning of the sixteenth century.
It is also quite possible that at least one of the present pulpits
was cobbled together from reliefs originally intended to form
part of an elaborate altar and tomb at the heart of this church,
which served as a Medici family mausoleum. Some scenes
clearly work better when seen from above rather than below,
and Donatello always kept viewpoint in mind.28 Vasari indi­
cates that Donatello had made a ‘model of the high altar with
the tomb of Cosimo at its foot’.29 These ambitions may have
proved too grand even for Cosimo, who on his death in 1464
was eventually buried in the crypt beneath the high altar.30 In
an unprecedented fashion, Donatello was buried next to
Cosimo two years later.
In understanding the art of Donatello, the panels that
make up the present pulpits are best considered as a series of
reliefs that demonstrate intriguing tendencies and artistic
choices made at the end of the sculptor’s career (illus. 74).
The scenes show great stylistic variety, and more disparity
233 Homecoming

than homogeneity. We find moments of rapture and moments


of banality inexplicable but for the fact that Donatello had
many assistants who contributed to the reliefs and ultimately
brought them to fruition. The scenes show episodes from the
Passion of Christ with the addition of a compelling Martyrdom
of St Lawrence. The finely crafted scene of St Lawrence is the
only relief to bear a date (1465), which probably records when
the moulds for this relief were ready for casting (illus. 75). The
martyrdom takes place in a well-defined architectural space
and possesses a narrative clarity reminiscent of Donatello’s
Paduan altar reliefs. The calming architecture and rational
perspective stand in contrast to the perverse central action,
whereby a torturer mercilessly thrusts a forked lance to pin
Lawrence’s neck and prevent any escape from the searing grill
on which the saint is being roasted alive. An angel rushes from
the opposite side to confer the palm of martyrdom. Both the
drama and accent on enduring pain typify this last stage of
Donatello’s creative output. The debt to religious theatre
also accelerates from his earlier explorations seen in the
Padua altar.31
Unfortunately, sources indicate the pulpits were unfinished
on Donatello’s death and assembled posthumously. Donatello
must have left preliminary designs and models in progress
and there are moments that cause one to wonder about mar­
vels that could have been. Some panels disappoint. The scene
of the Crucifixion is so jumbled that the lower portion is almost
unreadable; the Christ in Gethsemane relief lacks the proper
narrative energy to contrast the lethargy of its many sleeping
figures; and the crude execution of the Pentecost fails to con­
vince the viewer in the reality of its space or interpretive action
donatello 234

despite the originality of its composition. Other scenes point


to new possible directions for sculpture and reveal sensibil­
ities more expressionistically modern than typical of the
fifteenth century. Donatello’s assistants must be credited for
retaining these suggestive hints of artistic direction rather than
finishing them as final statements. For example, the grand

74 Donatello and Assistants, south pulpit, San Lorenzo, Florence,


c. 1459–66, finished posthumously by assistants, bronze.
235 Homecoming

and imposing scene of Christ’s Resurrection features a huge


figure of Christ bursting through the scene’s confines and
whose outsized scale seems purposely composed to emphasize
the greater power of the spirit over the materiality of the
mundane world. One could argue that it harks back to medi­
eval hierarchies of scale or looks forward to modern distortions
of form for dramatic effect. Christ’s Descent into Limbo works
similarly, and the foreground characters practically fall off the
relief surface, implicitly obliterating the distance between
viewer and viewed.
The rough sensibility and unfinished character of some
reliefs, cast with their designs only sketched into the wax and
then barely worked after translation to bronze, seem more
similar to Rodin’s work than to that of any fifteenth-century
sculptor. This may have been unplanned and unanticipated,

75 Donatello and Assistants, detail of north pulpit with Martyrdom


of St Lawrence, c. 1465, bronze.
donatello 236

but it became the reality of these late works, thus engendering


both praise and criticism. Baccio Bandinelli, a remarkably
unperceptive critic for a leading artist of the sixteenth cen­
tury, sums up one prevailing view:

When he did the pulpits and doors of bronze in S.


Lorenzo for Cosimo il Vecchio, Donatello was so old
that his eyesight no longer permitted him to judge
them properly and to give them a beautiful finish; and
although their conception is good, Donatello never
did coarser work.32

Vasari, in 1550, offers generous praise for their concep­


tion and an excuse for their final appearance by way of using
assistants:

These have design, force, invention, and an abundance


of figures and buildings. As he could no longer work
on them because of his age, his pupil Bertoldo finished
them and added the final touches.33

No matter one’s judgement of the ‘coarse’ quality, the


pronounced participation of assistants and collaborators tells
us much about Donatello’s character and condition in his final
years. His drive to work at all costs and through all circum­
stances emerges as paramount. He needed to continue making
art. It also shows the devotion of his followers to bring his
final outpourings of genius to some sort of fruition. These
assistants included Bellano, a young sculptor from Padua who
had followed Donatello to Florence, and Bertoldo, who carried
237 Homecoming

on Donatello’s legacy so his lessons did not end when the


great sculptor died.
With the death of Cosimo de’ Medici in 1464, Donatello
continued to be supported by Cosimo’s son, Piero. Donatello
in turn gave an artistic thank you to his prior patron, if the
elderly couple in the Pietà panel who look down at the holy
figures are none other than Cosimo de’ Medici and his wife
Contessina de’ Bardi (illus. 76), as has been suggested.34 If so,
it is also possible that we see the image of Donatello himself,
perhaps subconsciously manifested in the figure of the dead
Christ, with the high cheekbones and full facial hair as in the
Louvre portrait.35
The coarseness of the work, as articulated by Bandinelli,
elicits a certain reflection on what historians in various fields
often term the ‘old age style’.36 The idea is that what we per­
ceive as a less precise technique in artists of older age without
cognitive impairment might in part express a greater harmony
of ideas or an inner awareness that only time confers and the
ageing body can only obliquely demonstrate. To the modern
viewer the late work of an artist often speaks differently and
more profoundly than the earlier work – less literally and
more poetically.37 Well-known artists regularly studied in this
context include individuals from the Renaissance to the pres­
ent, such as Michelangelo, Titian, Rembrandt, Goya, Monet
and Picasso.38 The art historian Kenneth Clark credited Dona­
tello as the first artist to develop an old age style, describing
the modelling of the San Lorenzo pulpits ‘as free and expres­
sive as the stroke of a pen in an impassioned drawing’.39 In
fact, many of the reliefs display lines only scratched into the
wax and cast into bronze without further finishing. A better
donatello 238

way to look at it, especially with an artist such as Donatello


who always adapted to circumstance, is that he continued to
experiment with expressive effects with whatever physical
faculties still allowed in a quickly deteriorating body. He used
a resourcefulness that defies age. Picasso, when he was eighty
years old, and in supposed imitation of the elderly Michelangelo,
wrote on a drawing, ‘I’m still learning.’40 Donatello’s pulpit
reliefs declare the same.

76 Donatello and Assistants, detail of south pulpit with Pietà,


c. 1465, bronze.
239 Homecoming

death and after life

Vasari vividly describes Donatello’s final days as follows:

When he had reached the age of eighty-three, however,


he was so palsied that he could no longer work in any
fashion, and took to spending all his time in bed in a
poor little house that he had in the Via del Cocomero,
near the Nunnery of San Niccolo; where, growing
worse from day to day and wasting away little by little,
he died on December 13, 1466.41

As often occurs with eccentrics who disrupt and go their


own way, Donatello was more formally celebrated in death
than while alive. Vasari, though writing a century after the fact,
seems to have been well informed about Donatello’s passing
and offers several epigrams composed in the sculptor’s honour,
including the following:

What many skilled hands once did for sculpture, Dona­


tello has accomplished alone. To the marble he has
given life, emotion, movement. What more can nature
give, save speech?42

Pomponio Gaurico offered unqualified praise for the artist


in 1504, writing, ‘Donatello is most esteemed for his work in
bronze, in wood, in marble; there exist more works by him than
of all the other artists of his time up until the present day.’43
No other sculptor achieved such high acclaim until Michel­­
angelo. Despite the considerable talent of followers, no sculptor
donatello 240

rivalled the innovations and virtuosity of Donatello and no


artist was again as prolific or so sought after in the fifteenth
century. Desiderio da Settignano might have successfully
continued Donatello’s exploration of rilievo schiacciato, but he
predeceased Donatello in 1464 at approximately 34 years
of age. In Florence, other stonecarvers who followed closely
included Antonio Rossellino, Mino da Fiesole and Bene­detto
da Maiano; all contributed to the development of themes
Dona­tello had introduced, but none were as transformative. In
bronze, the followers were even fewer, with Bertoldo carry­ing
on Donatello’s legacy and Verrocchio and Antonio Pol­­lai­­uolo
offering works that pushed the medium, albeit without the
same prolific output. Only Leonardo da Vinci offered compa­
rable daring and innovation in this field, but there are no
confirmed surviving works by him in sculpture.44 The della
Robbia family, immensely prolific artistically, largely remained
in their own speciality niche of glazed terra­cotta. Their admir­
ation for Donatello, however, was acknowledged by Andrea
della Robbia (nephew of Luca), who considered it an honour
to have been one of Donatello’s pall bearers.45
Donatello’s accomplishments were never again seriously
questioned and in fact became more legendary owing to the
difficulty of finding comparable peers. The list of famous
Western sculptors is rather small compared to the list of
painters and includes names such as Michelangelo, Bernini,
Canova, Rodin and Brancusi, all of whom unequivocally
looked to Donatello for inspiration.
Donatello’s death therefore does not end his story, and
one example in particular illustrates this nicely. Though the
pulpits are normally considered Donatello’s final works, since
241 Homecoming

he died with them still in progress, they were not the only
commission that concerned him at the end of his life. Another
project in progress brought him back to the beginning of his
career and provided a link to the future. 46 This project traces
its roots to Donatello’s youth when the Operai of Florence
Cathedral decided to create twelve prophets to grace the cath­­
edral’s spurs. In 1408 Nanni di Banco carved his figure of Isaiah
and Donatello began a companion figure of David. Neither
statue ended up residing atop the cathedral.
In 1410 Donatello began his giant figure of Joshua, an
innovative statue of whitewashed clay, and this successful work
did achieve installation on a spur and remained in place until
the eighteenth century. The solitary figure called for his eleven
companions but remained alone despite an attempt by Dona­
tello and Brunelleschi to create an experimental statue in
stone and lead. Donatello made some progress but was never
able to bring even one companion figure to fruition. For about
fifty years little more transpired in this decorative scheme
until Donatello’s return from Siena to Florence.
At that point activity suddenly resumed, and this can
be no coincidence. In 1459 the cathedral Operai agreed to
pay Donatello’s rent. They called him master of the sac­
risty doors, though there was no activity on them and little
chance that Donatello would bring the project to fruition; it
was a way to snub the Sienese. Instead, the Operai had other
reasons to pay Donatello, certainly with the approval and
even encouragement of Cosimo de’ Medici. Donatello must
have been working on something special.
The prophet scheme revived in 1463 when a gifted but
troubled and itinerant sculptor returned to Florence, from
donatello 242

where he had been expelled for stealing silver objects from


the church of Santissima Annunciata. His name was Agos­tino
di Duccio. Agostino quickly matriculated into the sculptors’
guild and then received the most prestigious commission
in the entire city: it was for a companion to Donatello’s
Joshua. The contract specified that the resulting statue was
to be the same shape, style, height and size as Donatello’s
existing work, and it was probably meant to represent Daniel.47
Agos­­tino was certainly a brilliant stone carver but the medium
for this new work was terracotta, for which we have no prior
evidence of Agostino’s experience. He finished it in the
remark­ably short time of seven months and we have evidence
of its appearance from later prints. Giovanni Chellini con­
firms Dona­tello’s involvement in the project, when the doctor
in 1456 records Donatello as already working on another
giant figure for the cathedral. 48 The sculptor may have pro­
vided models and expertise, given that he could no longer
work the medium with precision, especially on such a scale as
a figure measuring over 5 m (17 ft) in height. Donatello had
always been a collaborator, and seeing the buttress project
revived must have given him great satisfaction.
Revelling in their success, the Operai immediately com­
missioned Agostino to create another figure, this time in
marble. It was to be a statue of David. Agostino agreed to a
contract that specified the quarrying of four blocks of stone
to be joined together to create the desired scale. Instead, he
obtained one giant block – the largest quarried since antiquity
– from which to make his colossal figure. He would challenge
the ancients. The stone, somewhat compromised, arrived in
Florence and caused a sensation. Expectations could not have
243 Homecoming

been higher. And then on 13 December 1466 Donatello died.


A week later Agostino received payment for his quarrying
work, and ten days after that accounts were settled and he
was relieved of the project entirely. It seems clear that Dona­
tello had been orchestrating the daring project of a colossal
marble David and without his presence the commission
faltered.
A document of 1525 informs that Donatello did not want
to carve the block when it came to Florence and claims that
there was not another master who ‘had enough spirit’ to work
on it. 49 In truth, the commission was inherently political,
especially given the theme. With Donatello’s marble David
in the Palazzo della Signoria and his bronze version in the
Palazzo Medici, a third and colossal demonstration on the
cathedral would have united the three most powerful entities
of the city through sculptures by Donatello. The project was
bound to falter without Donatello or Cosimo de’ Medici to
shepherd it through. Piero de’ Medici exerted a more perilous
grip on power than had his father, and earlier in 1466 he had
just escaped a coup attempt. The David project stalled just
when a statue should have begun emerging from the giant
block of marble.
Instead, the block remained in the cathedral workshop,
largely neglected, until 1501, when a precocious young sculp­
tor returned from Rome to Florence. Having been trained
by Donatello’s pupil Bertoldo, the young man from the Buona­­
rroti family proceeded to carve the stone until it became the
statue known today as Michelangelo’s David. In both spirit and
substance Michelangelo’s David is an ode and a challenge to
Donatello. Through its aesthetic ideal and virtuoso technique
donatello 244

it shows respect for both the immediate and the ancient past
while offering a new way forward in the course of sculpture.
Indeed this David gives final testament to the Renaissance
dictum that Donatello’s legacy continued to prosper through
Michelangelo: ‘Either the spirit of Donatello works in Buona­
rroti, or that of Buonarroti began by working in Donatello.’50
Chronology

1386 Donatello’s probable birth date, as derived from his later


tax declarations
1401 Earliest extant document concerning Donatello locates
him in Pistoia, accused of assault. Brunelleschi is also in
Pistoia. Later that year, in Florence, the Arte di Calimala
initiates a competition for bronze doors for the Cathedral
Baptistery. The finalists are Ghiberti and Brunelleschi, both
of whom play formative roles in Donatello’s early career
1402–4 Periodically joins Brunelleschi in Rome
1404–7 During an unspecified period between these years
Donatello works for Ghiberti
1406 Begins work in marble for Florence Cathedral and will
intermittently participate on various sculptural projects
for this building for the rest of his career. Sculptures for
the cathedral from this earliest period will include the
seated John the Evangelist
1409–10 Participates in an elaborate social ruse, with Brunelleschi
and others, immortalized by Antonio Manetti as the story
of the Fat Woodworker
1411 Receives commission for the marble figure of St Mark
to be placed in a niche at Orsanmichele. For the same
building he will also complete a marble figure of St George
and a later gilded bronze statue of St Louis of Toulouse
1412 Joins the Company of St Luke as a goldsmith and stone
carver. Guild membership is probably a co-requisite
1415 Receives the first of several commissions to produce
figures for the campanile (bell tower) of Florence
donatello 248

Cathedral. They will number four individual prophets


(including the famous Zuccone) and a two-figure group
of Abraham and Isaac completed with the help of Nanni di
Bartolo
1416 Florentine senate requisitions Donatello’s marble figure
of David from the cathedral workshop. Donatello modifies
the sculpture for its new setting in the Palazzo della
Signoria
1419 Death of Baldassare Cossa, which precipitates the
manufacture of his tomb by Donatello and Michelozzo for
the Florence Baptistery
1421 Death of Nanni di Banco, leaving the cathedral’s Porta
della Mandorla project unfinished. Donatello will
complete some elements
1423 Begins bronze work intended for the Siena baptistery
font. Donatello will eventually contribute a relief of the
Feast of Herod, figures of Faith and Hope, and three spiritelli
statues
1425 In or near this year Donatello forms a partnership with
Michelozzo, lasting for nine years
1427 Michelozzo compiles Donatello’s tax declaration, noting
Donatello is caring for his mother, widowed sister and an
eighteen-year-old nephew. Among works mentioned is the
bust of San Rossore for the church of Ognissanti
1428 Donatello and Michelozzo receive the commission for
the exterior pulpit of Prato Cathedral. Donatello delays
finishing his work until 1438
1430 Donatello spends time in Rome. Remaining works there
include a tomb slab for Giovanni Crivelli in Santa Maria
in Aracoeli and a tabernacle in St Peter’s
1433 Receives commission for a cantoria in Florence Cathedral as
a complement to another under way by Luca della Robbia
begun two years earlier. Cosimo de’ Medici exiled from
Florence only to return the following year. Michelozzo
joins him in exile for some time
1434–43 In these poorly documented years Donatello probably
works on several overlapping commissions including
249 Chronology

the Cavalcanti altarpiece, bronze David, various reliefs,


and works in diverse media for the Old Sacristy of San
Lorenzo
1434–6 Leon Battista Alberti resides in Florence and completes
De pictura. The Latin text is subsequently translated into
Italian
1436 Consecration of Florence Cathedral in March. Paolo
Uccello executes the John Hawkwood fresco inside the
building
1438 Date found on the wooden figure of St John the Baptist that
Donatello ships from Florence to Venice. Close in time
the artist probably creates the wooden Mary Magdalene and
later a wooden crucifix now in Padua
1444 Donatello in Padua by January and will principally reside
in this city until 1454. He immediately begins work on
a bronze crucifix for San Antonio
1446 Death of Brunelleschi in April. Donatello at work on the
high altar of San Antonio
1447 Casting under way for the Gattamelata statue, finished
in 1453
1450 Ludovico Gonzaga, in Mantua, orders Madonna and
Child reliefs in different media, indicating Donatello’s
considerable and diverse production of these objects while
in Padua. The Chellini Madonna probably comes from this
period. Other foreign clients vie for his services
1453 Donatello settles accounts for the Gattamelata, probably in
preparation for leaving Padua
1454 By November Donatello has left Padua and is domiciled in
Florence
1456 The Florentine doctor Giovanni Chellini records in his
diary that he has treated Donatello for illness and has
received as a gift a Madonna and Child roundel (the
Chellini Madonna) in bronze. The bronze Judith and Holofernes
statue is probably under way at this time
1457 Donatello moves to Siena with no intention of returning
to Florence. The bronze St John the Baptist is shipped from
Florence to Siena missing the right arm. The artist begins
donatello 250

work on bronze doors for Siena Cathedral, a project that


never comes to fruition. With assistance he completes a
marble Madonna and Child relief for the chapel of the
Madonna delle Grazie before leaving the city
1459 Donatello returns to Florence from Siena. He will be
supported henceforth by the Medici family. Commissions
include various works for Florence Cathedral and bronzes
for San Lorenzo, resulting in two pulpits assembled
posthumously
1464 Death of Cosimo de’ Medici. Donatello continues to be
supported by his son, Piero de’ Medici
1465 Date found on the Martyrdom of St Lawrence relief on
the north pulpit in San Lorenzo
1466 Donatello dies on 13 December. He is buried near Cosimo
de’ Medici in the crypt of San Lorenzo
references

1 Artistic Formation
1 Pomponio Gaurico, De sculptura, ed. Paolo Cutolo (Naples, 1999),
pp. 134–5. Vasari copies Gaurico. Comprehensive compilation
of literary references to Donatello 1424–1556 (excluding Vasari)
in original languages appears in Ulrich Pfisterer, Donatello und die
Entdeckung der Stile, 1430–1445 (Munich, 2002), pp. 488–529.
2 Ludovico Domenichi, Facetiae, motti e burle di diversi Signori e persone
private (Florence, 1548). John Pope-Hennessy, Donatello (New York,
1993), pp. 12–13, 319 n.5. Pfisterer, Donatello, p. 502.
3 Translation in Creighton Gilbert, Italian Art, 1400–1500 (Englewood
Cliffs, nj, 1980); and Bonnie A. Bennett and David G. Wilkins,
Donatello (Mt Kisco, ny, 1984), p. 31. The patriarch in question is
assumed to be Giovanni Vitelleschi, for whom see John E. Law,
‘Giovanni Vitelleschi: “prelate guerriero”’, Renaissance Studies, xii/1
(1998), pp. 40–66.
4 Vespasiano da Bisticci, Vite di uomini illustri, ed. Ludovico Frati
(Bologna, 1893), vol. iii, p. 57. The phrase used is ‘Gli pareva
essere dilegiato’, which is difficult to translate but implies
discomfort with his appearance.
5 Full translation in Bennett and Wilkins, Donatello, p. 55.
6 Vasari attributed it to Masaccio in 1550 and to Uccello in 1568.
Previous bibliography appears in Hugh Hudson, Paolo Uccello: Artist
of the Florentine Renaissance Republic (Saarbrücken, 2008), cat. 64.
7 A convenient map appears in Bennett and Wilkins, Donatello, p. 30.
8 Gaurico, De sculptura, p. 253.
9 Original text in Pfisterer, Donatello, p. 499; translation in
E. H. Gombrich, Norm and Form (London, 1966), p. 2. The quote
donatello 252

continues, ‘Still, Luca Della Robbia and Lorenzo di Bartoluccio


[Ghiberti] were not to be despised either, as the great renowned
of their works bears witness.’
10 Giorgio Vasari, Le vite de’ più eccellente pittori, scultori ed architettori,
ed. Gaetano Milanesi, 9 vols (Florence, 1878–85), vol. ii,
pp. 395–6.
11 Ibid.
12 Gaetano Milanesi, Catalogo delle opere di Donatello e bibliografia degli autori
che ne hanno scritto (Florence, 1887), p. 46.
13 Perugino’s St Michael from the Certosa of Pavia essentially copies
Donatello’s St George. On Raphael, see Carmen C. Bambach,
‘A New Drawing by the Young Raphael and its Source in
Donatello’, Burlington Magazine, clxix/1256 (November 2007),
pp. 772–8.
14 This transpired in Pisa in 1380. The victim was Matteo Corbizzi
and the account is narrated in the diary of Bunaccorso Pitti.
15 I thank Amy Bloch for clarification of Donatello’s family
background.
16 Volker Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, Rivista dell’Istituto Nazionale
d’Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte, iii/2 (1979), pp. 169–228, doc. 99.
Original transcription in Rufus Graves Mather, ‘Donatello
debitore oltre la tomba’, Rivista d’arte, xix/2 (1937), pp. 181–92;
trans. Creighton Gilbert, as in Bennett and Wilkins, Donatello,
pp. 35, 52–3.
17 Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects,
trans. Gaston du C. de Vere, 10 vols (London, 1912–15), vol. ii,
p. 197.
18 Ibid., p. 199.
19 The name refers both to heaven and to the space between the
Baptistery and cathedral, which was called the paradiso. For the east
doors see Amy R. Bloch, Lorenzo Ghiberti’s Gates of Paradise: Humanism,
History and Artistic Philosophy in the Italian Renaissance (Cambridge,
2016). On the south doors see Amy R. Bloch, ‘Baptism and the
Frame of the South Door of the Baptistery, Florence’, and A.
Victor Coonin, ‘Vittorio Ghiberti and the Frame of the South
Doors of the Florence Baptistery’, Sculpture Journal, xviii/1 (2009),
pp. 24–51.
253 References

20 Antonio di Tuccio Manetti, The Life of Brunelleschi, trans. Catherine


Enggass, ed. Howard Saalman (University Park, pa, and London,
1970).
21 De Vere, vol. ii, p. 201.
22 The precise dates are no more specific than c. 1404–7.
23 Summary discussion and essential bibliography are provided in
Sculpture in the Age of Donatello, ed. Timothy Verdon and Daniel M.
Zolli (New York, 2015), cat. v; and The Springtime of the Renaissance,
ed. Beatrice Paolozzi Strozzi and Marc Bormand (Florence, 2013),
cat. iii.10. Doubts are raised in H. W. Janson, The Sculpture of
Donatello (Princeton, nj, 1963), pp. 219–22. Other contributions
to the Porta della Mandorla are more speculative. The figures of
Hercules and Christ as the Man of Sorrows are more likely by
Nanni di Banco.
24 For a fuller discussion see A. Victor Coonin, From Marble to Flesh:
The Biography of Michelangelo’s David (Florence, 2014).
25 Pope-Hennessy (Donatello, pp. 17–20) reasonably suggests one
such prophet and is generally convincing.
26 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 12–16; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 20–27; Sculpture in the Age of Donatello, cat. 10. Note that
the right hand probably originally held a quill pen.
27 See discussion of optics by Daniel M. Zolli in Sculpture in the Age of
Donatello, pp. 53–61, and Robert Munman, Optical Corrections in the
Sculpture of Donatello (Philadelphia, pa, 1985). The side view shows
the extreme shallowness of the stone.
28 Coonin, From Marble to Flesh, pp. 27–31.
29 Antonio Manetti, The Fat Woodworker, trans. Robert L. Martone and
Valerie Martone (New York, 1991). Excellent discussion appears
in Mary Bergstein, The Sculpture of Nanni di Banco (Princeton, nj,
2000), pp. 11–13.
30 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 7–12; Pope-Hennessy, Donatello,
pp. 27–8; Aldo Galli provides a good catalogue entry with
bibliography in ‘Fece di scoltura di legname e colorì’: scultura del Quattrocento
in legno dipinto a Firenze, exh. cat., Galleria degli Uffizi (Florence,
2016), cat. 1. Also see Giovanni Giura, ‘Il Crocifisso di Donatello
e la cappella del Beato Gherardo da Villamagna in Santa Croce:
indagini per una ricostruzione’, in Santa Croce: oltre le apparenze, ed.
donatello 254

Andrea De Marchi and Giocomo Piraz (Pistoia, 2011), pp. 73–111;


and a forthcoming study by Geraldine Johnson which should
provide new perspectives.
31 An early dating is preferred, c. 1408–9.
32 Vasari claims Donatello worked for both Lorenzo di Bicci and Dello
Delli, neither of whom is likely to have been a formative teacher.
33 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 16–21; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 34–40.
34 Vasari, Le Vite, ed. Milanesi, vol. viii, p. 278.
35 Bergstein, The Sculpture of Nanni di Banco, pp. 125–31.
36 Ibid., pp. 115–23.
37 There is no record of Donatello’s guild matriculation. However,
in 1412 he joined the Company of St Luke as goldsmith and
stone carver, for which guild membership was almost always a
co-requisite. Nanni joined the Maestri di Pietra e Legname in 1405.
Goldsmiths, including Brunelleschi, normally belonged to the Arte
della Seta (Arte di Por Santa Maria) and painters to the Arte dei Medici e
Speziali, but there was some fluidity and it is possible that Donatello
even belonged to multiple guilds. It is extremely unlikely that
he belonged to no guild. See Rufus Graves Mather, ‘Documents
Mostly New Relating to Florentine Painters and Sculptors of the
Fifteenth Century’, Art Bulletin, xxx/1 (1948), pp. 20–65.
38 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 23–32; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 46–8, 116–18.
39 ‘Ottima e perfetta’ as in Filarete, Treatise on Architecture, ed. John
R. Spencer (New Haven, ct, 1965), vol. i, p. 306.
40 Translation in Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, pp. 47–8.
41 Ibid., pp. 48, 324 n. 12.
42 Ibid.
43 Stuart W. Pyhrr and José-A. Godoy, Heroic Armor of the
Italian Renaissance: Filippo Negroli and his Contemporaries, exh. cat.,
Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, 1998), pp. 9–10.
44 This includes St Peter, St Mark and assistance in the design of
niches.
45 The guild purchased the block in February 1417 and Donatello’s
relief may be dated to the months following. Basic discussion and
bibliography appear in The Springtime, cat. vii.2.
255 References

46 Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, p. 116.


47 The Tuscan variant stiacciato is also widely used. See Michael
Godby, ‘A Note on Schiacciato’, Art Bulletin, lxii/4 (1980),
pp. 635–7. On relief sculpture, see Depth of Field: Relief Sculpture
in Renaissance Italy, ed. Donal Cooper and Marika Leino (Bern,
2007); and Depth of Field: The Place of Relief in the Time of Donatello
(Leeds, 2004).
48 Ludwig Goldscheider, Donatello (London, 1941), pp. 12–13. He
also notes that nineteenth-century copies better show some of its
details since the original has deteriorated greatly and was probably
gilded as well. To be sure, some of the manufacture is imperfect
and improvised. For a critique, see Arjan R. De Koomen, ‘Predella
and Prontezza: On the Expressionism of Donatello’s Saint George’, in
Orsanmichele and the History and Preservation of the Civic Monument,
ed. Carl Brandon Strehlke (Washington, dc, 2012), pp. 259–78.

2 The Business of Art


1 Volker Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, Rivista dell’Istituto Nazionale
d’Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte, iii/2 (1979), doc. 42.
2 Lorenz Böninger, ‘Brunelleschi, Donatello e la Mercanzia’, Archivio
storico italiano, clxxiv/648 (2016), pp. 317–26, 416.
3 Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, doc. 58.
4 H. W. Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello (Princeton, nj, 1963),
pp. 3–7; John Pope-Hennessy, Donatello (New York, 1993),
pp. 40–46. A good overview of the primary issues is found in
Edward J. Olszewski, ‘Prophecy and Prolepsis in Donatello’s
Marble “David”’, Artibus et Historiae, xviii/36 (1997), pp. 63–79.
The document of 1412 is found in Volker Herzner, ‘Regesti
donatelliani’, doc. 30.
5 Translation in Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 4. The inscription
was added sometime between 1416 and 1592.
6 A. Victor Coonin, From Marble to Flesh: The Biography of Michelangelo’s
David (Florence, 2014).
7 Sarah Blake McHam, ‘Public Sculpture in Renaissance Florence’,
in Looking at Italian Renaissance Sculpture, ed. Sarah Blake McHam
(Cambridge, 1998), p. 160.
donatello 256

8 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 41–3; and Pope-Hennessy,


Donatello, pp. 61–2.
9 Anne Markham Schulz, Nanni di Bartolo e il portale di San Nicola a
Tolentino (Florence, 1997), esp. pp. 21–33.
10 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 33–41; and Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 62–70.
11 Catalogue entry with bibliography appears in Beatrice Paolozzi
Strozzi and Marc Bormand, eds, The Springtime of the Renaissance
(Florence, 2013), cat. iii.20.
12 Mary Bergstein, The Sculpture of Nanni di Banco (Princeton, nj,
2000), pp. 153–63.
13 Ibid., pp. 160–62.
14 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 45–56; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 48–55; catalogue entry with other bibliography
in The Springtime, cat. iii.19; and especially David Boffa, ‘Divine
Illumination and the Portrayal of the Miraculous in Donatello’s
St Louis of Toulouse’, Simiolus: Netherlands Quarterly for the History of Art,
xxxi/4 (2004–5), pp. 279–91.
15 Photo of original installation (from 1946) appears in Boffa.
16 Translation in Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 47.
17 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 56–9; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 71–3; catalogue entry in The Springtime, cat. iii.23; and
especially Anita Moskowitz, ‘Donatello’s Reliquary Bust of Saint
Rossore’, Art Bulletin, lxiii/1 (1981), pp. 41–8.
18 There is some disagreement over the originality of the collar, and
a brooch was added later.
19 Moskowitz (‘Donatello’s Reliquary Bust’, pp. 46–7) suggests this
may be a self-portrait.
20 Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, p. 65.
21 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 36–7 n.1.
22 For example, documents from 1423 discuss a gilded bronze statue
of St John the Baptist commissioned for the cathedral of Orvieto.
This never came to fruition.
23 Rufus G. Mather, ‘Donatello: debitore oltre la tomba’, Rivista d’arte,
xix/2 (1937), pp. 181–92.
24 Richard Krautheimer, Lorenzo Ghiberti (Princeton, nj, 1982), pp. 7–8.
Ghiberti became unusually wealthy for an artist of his time.
257 References

25 Partnerships are well explained by Harriet McNeal Caplow,


‘Sculptors’ Partnerships in Michelozzo’s Florence’, Studies in
the Renaissance, xxi (1974), pp. 145–75; and Ronald Lightbown,
Donatello and Michelozzo: An Artistic Partnership and its Patrons in the Early
Renaissance, 2 vols (London, 1980).
26 Krautheimer, Lorenzo Ghiberti, pp. 164–7 and doc. 155.
27 Exceptions were made for those born sick and for other
extenuating circumstances.
28 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 59–65; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 73–7; and Lightbown, Donatello and Michelozzo, vol. i,
pp. 4–51.
29 John T. Paoletti, The Siena Baptistery Font: A Study of an Early Renaissance
Collaborative Program (York, 1979). For Donatello’s individual
contributions see Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 65–75; and
Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, pp. 77–87.
30 Multiple narrative moments were common in the art of the
Middle Ages, but not as employed by Donatello.
31 She has lost a piece of her left thumb.
32 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 72.
33 Giovanni Turini took just a few months to deliver a stylish if
uninspiring relief of the Madonna and Child between 1434 and
1435.
34 See especially Charles Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto
(Chapel Hill, nc, and London, 2001); Arnold Victor Coonin,
‘The Spirit of Water: Reconsidering the Putto Mictans Sculpture
in Renaissance Florence’, in A Scarlett Renaissance: Essays in Honor of
Sarah McHam, ed. A. Victor Coonin (New York, 2013), pp. 81–110;
Francesco Caglioti, ‘Donatello e il Fonte Battesimale di Siena. Per
una rivalutazione dello “Spiritello danzante” nel Museo Nazionale
di Firenze’, Prospettiva, no. 110–11 (2003), pp. 18–29; and Caglioti,
‘A Spiritello Rediscovered’, in Donatello in Motion: A Spiritello
Rediscovered, ed. Andrew Butterfield (Minneapolis, mn, 2015),
pp. 14–43.
35 See especially Coonin, ‘The Spirit of Water’. Other plausible
attributions to Donatello or his circle appear in, Donatello in Motion;
The Springtime, ed. Butterfield, cat. iv.8, iv.9; Metropolitan Museum
of Art, New York, ‘Sprite’, www.metmuseum.org; Victoria & Albert
donatello 258

Museum, London, ‘Winged Putto with a Fantastic Fish’, http://


collections.vam.ac.uk, accessed 15 November 2018.
36 Dempsey, Inventing, p. 18. The tiny figures on the crozier of St Louis
are of a different magnitude.
37 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 66. Also see Herzner, ‘Regesti
donatelliani’, doc. 117.
38 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 75–7; Pope-Hennessy, Donatello,
pp. 90–91.
39 Geraldine A. Johnson, ‘Activating the Effigy: Donatello’s Pecci
Tomb in Siena Cathedral’, Art Bulletin, lxxvii/3 (1995), pp. 445–
59. I follow Janson’s reasoning for the dating.
40 Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, doc. 100.
41 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 88–92; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 91, 118–23.
42 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 92–5; Pope-Hennessy, Donatello,
pp. 123–9; Victoria & Albert Museum, London, ‘The Ascension
with Christ giving the Keys to St Peter’, http://collections.vam.
ac.uk, accessed 15 November 2018.
43 James Beck, Masaccio: The Documents (New York, 1978), p. 19, doc.
19; and Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, doc. 91.
44 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 86–8; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 256–9. Though with hypothetical conclusions, see
Paola Barocchi, ed., Il giardino di San Marco (Florence, 1992), no. 13,
pp. 69–82.
45 Neville Rowley, ‘Madonna und Kind (die Pazzi Madonna) / The
Virgin and Child (The Pazzi Madonna)’, www.smb-digital.de,
10 February 2016; Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 44–5; and
Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, pp. 254–6.
46 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 108–18; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 92–103.
47 Coonin, ‘Donatello, Desiderio da Settignano and the Martelli’.
48 Ibid.
49 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, pp. 95–101; Pope-Hennessy,
Donatello, pp. 129–32.
259 References

3 Adorning the City of Florence


1 In 1434 Luca and Donatello were each commissioned
to submit a model for a terracotta head intended for the
cathedral dome. See Volker Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’,
Rivista dell’Istituto Nazionale d’Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte, iii/2 (1979),
doc. 172.
2 Luisa Becherucci and Giulia Brunetti, Il Museo dell’Opera del Duomo
a Firenze (Milan, 1969–70), vol. i, pp. 277–82.
3 Catalogue entry in Beatrice Paolozzi Strozzi and Marc Bormand,
eds, The Springtime of the Renaissance: Sculpture and the Arts in Florence,
1400–1600 (Florence, 2013), cat. iv.7; and especially Francesco
Caglioti, ‘Tra dispersion e ricomparse: gli “Spiritelli” bronzei di
Donatello sul pergamo di Luca della Robbia’, in Santa Maria del
Fiore: The Cathedral and its Sculpture, ed. Margaret Haines (Fiesole,
2001), pp. 263–87.
4 These are probably the heads now in the Museo dell’Opera
del Duomo. See Timothy Verdon and Daniel M. Zolli, eds,
Sculpture in the Age of Donatello: Renaissance Masterpieces from Florence
Cathedral (New York, 2015), cat. 13–14; and Stefania Agnoletti
et al., ‘Le teste in bronzo della Cantoria di Donatello: aspetti
conoscitivi e conservativi’, opd Restauro, xxv (2013), pp. 201–12.
5 Catalogue entry in Paolozzi Strozzi and Bormand, The Springtime,
iv.2.
6 John Pope-Hennessy, Donatello (New York, 1993), p. 95.
7 Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, doc. 350; translation in Pope-
Hennessy, Donatello, p. 103.
8 Pope-Hennessy, Luca della Robbia (Oxford, 1980), pp. 31–2, 258–61;
Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, docs 236–8; Paolozzi Strozzi and
Bormand, The Springtime, vii.5.
9 Catalogue entry appears in Verdon and Zolli, Sculpture in the Age
of Donatello, pp. 152–4.
10 Gelli also claimed that Donatello based his statue of Jeremiah
on Cherichini’s ally, Francesco Soderini.
11 Translation in H. W. Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello (Princeton,
nj, 1963), p. 35.
12 The term is cacasangue.
donatello 260

13 Translation in Michael Baxandall, Giotto and the Orators


(Oxford, 1971), p. 109. Latin transcription is found in
Ulrich Pfisterer, Donatello und die Entdeckung der Stile, 1430–1445
(Munich, 2002), p. 492.
14 Translation in Creighton Gilbert, Italian Art, 1400–1500
(Englewood Cliffs, nj, 1980), p. 171. The story is repeated
by Poliziano, who calls the property Lepriano. Original
transcriptions in Pfisterer, Donatello, pp. 500–502.
15 Pomponio Gaurico, De sculptura, ed. Paolo Cutolo (Naples,
1999), pp. 148–51.
16 Michael Cole, ed., Donatello, Michelangelo, Cellini: Sculptors’ Drawings
from Renaissance Italy (Boston, ma, 2014). Vasari’s writing on
the one sheet attributed to Donatello more likely refers to
authorship of the source image.
17 Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, docs 165, 166.
18 Ibid., doc. 177.
19 On the artist generally and the painting in particular see Hugh
Hudson, Paolo Uccello: Artist of the Florentine Renaissance Republic
(Saarbrücken, 2008), cat. 90.
20 David G. Wilkins, ‘Donatello’s Lost Dovizia for the Mercato
Vecchio: Wealth and Charity as Florentine Civic Virtues’, Art
Bulletin, lxv/3 (1983), pp. 401–23; Sarah Blake Wilk, ‘Donatello’s
Dovizia as an Image of Florentine Political Propaganda’, Artibus et
Historiae, vii/14 (1986), pp. 9–28; and Adrian W. B. Randolph,
Engaging Symbols: Gender, Politics and Public Art in Fifteenth-century
Florence (New Haven, ct, and London, 2002), pp. 19–75.
21 Wilkins, ‘Donatello’s Lost Dovizia’.
22 Transcribed and translated in Janson, Donatello, pp. 111–12.
Also see Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, pp. 143–4.
23 Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History, Metropolitan Museum
of Art, New York, ‘Dovizia’, www.metmuseum.org/toah, accessed
15 November 2018. In such works a child was commonly added
aside Dovizia’s left leg and in this case it has broken off. An
alternative view of the relative dating of the Latin and Tuscan
editions is found in Leon Battista Alberti, On Painting: A New
Translation and Critical Edition, ed. and trans. Rocco Sinisgalli
(Cambridge, 2011).
261 References

24 Sarah Blake McHam, Pliny and the Artistic Culture of the Italian
Renaissance (New Haven, ct, and London, 2013), p. 104.
An alternative view of the relative dating of the Latin and
Tuscan editions is found in Leon Battista Alberti, ­Leon Battista
Alberti: On Painting. A New Translation and Critical Edition, ed. and
trans. Rocco Sinisgalli (Cambridge, 2011).
25 Leon Battista Alberti, On Painting, trans. John R. Spencer
(New Haven, ct, 1970), p. 8.
26 Ibid.
27 The relief in Lille is often dated earlier but must be c. 1436 owing
to its response to Alberti. See Masterworks from the Musée Des Beaux-
arts, Lille, exh. cat., Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
(New York, 1992), pp. 180–83; and Paolozzi Strozzi and
Bormand, The Springtime, cat. vii.6.
28 Diane Finiello Zervas and Brenda Preyer, ‘Donatello’s “Nunziata
del Sasso”: The Cavalcanti Chapel at S. Croce and its Patrons’,
Burlington Magazine, cl/1260 (2008), pp. 152–65.
29 Isaiah 7:14 and 29:11–12, respectively.
30 For example, see Kenneth Clark, Leonardo da Vinci (London, 1989).
31 Translated from Vasari, Le Vite, ed. Milanesi, vol. ii, p. 406.
32 See discussion and prior bibliography in Andrea Ciaroni, Dai
Medici al Bargello, vol. ii: i Bronzi del Rinascimento Il Quattrocento
(Bologna, 2007), pp. 30–53; Francesco Caglioti, Donatello e i Medici:
storia del ‘David’ e della ‘Giuditta’ (Florence, 2000); and Randolph,
Engaging Symbols, pp. 139–92.
33 A. Victor Coonin, From Marble to Flesh: The Biography of Michelangelo’s
David (Florence, 2014).
34 Michael Greenhalgh, Donatello and his Sources (New York, 1982),
pp. 166–7.
35 Frederick Hartt, History of Italian Renaissance Art, 3rd edn
(Upper Saddle River, nj, 1987) p. 237. This was expunged
by David Wilkins in the fourth and subsequent editions.
36 A good overview appears in Peter Weller, ‘A Reassessment in
Historiography and Gender: Donatello’s Bronze “David” in the
Twenty-first Century’, Artibus et Historiae, xxxiii/65 (2012),
pp. 43–77; and Robert Williams, ‘“Virtus perficitur”: On
the Meaning of Donatello’s Bronze David’, Mitteilungen des
donatello 262

Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz, liii/2–3 (2009), pp. 217–28;


and Randolph, Engaging Symbols, pp. 139–92.
37 Coonin, From Marble to Flesh.
38 Janson, Donatello, p. 85; Pfisterer, Donatello, pp. 500–502.
39 On male same-sex desire in Florence, see Michael Rocke, Forbidden
Friendships: Homosexuality and Male Culture in Renaissance Florence
(New York and Oxford, 1996).
40 This is well expressed by Christopher Fulton, ‘The Boy Stripped
Bare by his Elders: Art and Adolescence in Renaissance Florence’,
Art Journal, lvi/2 (1997), pp. 31–40.
41 An apt reference is Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, which is also about
transformation, as matter is fertilized by divinity, which gives rise
to the goddess of love.
42 The hat might even refer to a sexualized game involving an older
male stealing the hat of a younger male and returning it after
being granted sexual favours, but David’s hat remains in place.
See Rocke, Forbidden Friendships, pp. 155–61; and Randolph, Engaging
Symbols, pp. 188–90.
43 Related aspects of gender fluidity are discussed in L. Stephanie
Cobb, Dying to Be Men (New York, 2008).
44 John Shearman, Only Connect . . . : Art and the Spectator in the Italian
Renaissance (Princeton, nj, 1989), pp. 17–27.
45 John Shearman, acknowledging he is not the first to propose
this, presents a clear and reasonable argument in Only Connect,
pp. 17–27. Also see Adrian Randolph, review of Ulrich Pfisterer,
Donatello und die Entdeckung der Stile, 1430–1445 (Munich, 2002),
caa Reviews, 24 September 2004, CrossRef doi 10.3202/caa.
reviews.2004.82.
46 Other proposed self-portraits are offered in discussions of the
San Lorenzo Pulpits and San Rossore.
47 Francesco Caglioti, Donatello e i Medici, pp. 1–12; translation, with
slight modifications, from Williams, ‘“Virtus perficitur”’, p. 218.
48 The statue was later moved to the courtyard of the Palazzo
Vecchio in 1495 when the Medici were expelled from the city. See
Francesco Caglioti, ‘Il David bronzeo di Donatello’, in Donatello:
il David restaurato, ed. Beatrice Paolozzi Strozzi (Florence, 2008),
pp. 26–85.
263 References

49 Caglioti in Donatello in Motion: A Spiritello Rediscovered, ed. Andrew


Butterfield (Minneapolis, mn, 2015), pp. 14–43.
50 Beatrice Paolozzi-Strozzi, Il ritorno d’Amore, l’Attis di Donatello
restaurato (Florence, 2004). Catalogue entry in Ciaroni, I Bronzi
del Rinascimento: Il Quattrogento (Bologna, 2007), pp. 54–79.
51 Francesco Caglioti, ‘L’Amore-Attis di Donatello, caso esemplare
di un’iconografia “d’autore”’, in Paolozzi-Strozzi, Il ritorno d’Amore,
pp. 31–74.
52 Translation in Janson, Donatello, p. 143.
53 Another spiritello, holding two snakes, that has been attributed to
Donatello or a follower appears in Davide Banzato, Donatello e il
suo tempo: il bronzetto a Padova nel Quattrocento e nel Cinquecento (Padua,
2001), cat. i, pp. 48–9.
54 National Gallery, London, ‘Venus and Mars’, www.nationalgallery.
org.uk/paintings, accessed 14 November 2018.
55 Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History, Metropolitan Museum of
Art, New York, ‘Paintings of Love and Marriage in the Italian
Renaissance’, www.metmuseum.org/toah, accessed 14 November
2018.
56 Anne Markham Schulz, Woodcarving and Woodcarvers in Venice,
1350–1550 (Florence, 2011), pp. 253–9; and ‘Fece di scoltura di legname
e colorì’: scultura del Quattrocento in legno dipinto a Firenze, exh. cat., Uffizi,
Florence (Florence, 2016), cat. ii. A notable wooden sculpture
disputed as a work by Donatello is a wooden figure of St Jerome
in Faenza. It is unlikely to have been carved by the master. See ibid.,
cat. iii. The confraternity in Venice likely had Medici support.
57 ‘mccccxxx viii opus donati de flo rentia’ (1438 work of
Donato of Florence).
58 Schulz adds that the figure’s back has been mutilated, half of the
right index finger is lost, and he may have originally held an object
in the left hand.
59 I thank David Wilkins for this observation and Drs Bradford
Pendley and Jeffrey Warren for their medical consultation.
60 Fece di scoltura . . ., p. 264; Deborah Phyl Strom, ‘A New Chronology
for Donatello’s Wooden Sculpture’, Pantheon, 38 (1980), pp. 239–47;
Giovan Battista Fidanza, ‘Donatellos Maria Magdalena: Technik
und Theologie einer Holzfigur’, Wiener Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte,
donatello 264

62 (2014), pp. 127–44; Kelly Barnes Oliver, ‘Legendary Penance:


Donatello’s Wooden Magdalen’, Athanor, 17 (1999), pp. 25–33;
and Martha Levine Dunkelman, ‘Donatello’s Mary Magdalen:
A Model of Courage and Survival’, Woman’s Art Journal, xxvi/2
(2005–6), pp. 10–13. Recent conservation insights appear in
Elisabetta Francescutti, ed., Il restauro del Crocifisso ligneo di Donatello
della Chiesa dei Servi di Padova (Padua, 2016).
61 Il Libro di Antonio Billi, ed. Fabio Benedettucci (Anzio, 1991), p. 32.
62 Translation in Janson, Donatello, p. 190.
63 For example, see Joseph Campbell, The Hero with a Thousand Faces,
2nd edn (Princeton, nj, 1968).
64 Giovanni di Bicci was the original patron and on his death in 1429
work continued under his sons, Cosimo and Lorenzo. Lorenzo
died in 1440.
65 Richard Krautheimer, Lorenzo Ghiberti (Princeton, nj, 1982), p. 43.
66 The following historical references and translations are culled
from Janson, Donatello, pp. 132–3. Relevant excerpts from Filarete
are found in Pfisterer, Donatello, pp. 494–6.
67 John Pope-Hennessy, Luca della Robbia (Ithaca, ny, 1980); and
Marietta Cambareri, Della Robbia: Sculpting with Color in Renaissance
Florence (Boston, ma, 2016).
68 Fabrizio Bandini, ed., Donatello at Close Range: An Initial View of the
Restoration of the Stuccoes in the Old Sacristy, S. Lorenzo, Florence (New
York, 1987).
69 Roger J. Crum, ‘Donatello’s “Ascension of St John the Evangelist”
and the Old Sacristy as Sepulchre’, Artibus et Historiae, xvi/32
(1995), pp. 141–61.
70 Bandini, Donatello at Close Range, pp. 48–9.
71 John T. Paoletti, ‘Donatello’s Bronze Doors for the Old Sacristy
of San Lorenzo’, Artibus et Historiae, xi/21 (1990), pp. 39–69.
72 Alberti, On Painting, p. 73. I have changed ‘throw’ to ‘lunge with’
to better reflect the fencing analogy. The original term is gittare.
73 See Janson, Donatello, pp. 139–40; Pfisterer, Donatello, p. 490; and
Eugenio Battisti, Filippo Brunelleschi: The Complete Work (Milan, 1981),
p. 325.
74 On 15 October 1443 Donatello received money from Fra Filippo
Lippi, who was then working on the Coronation altarpiece for
265 References

Sant’Ambrogio. See Keith Christiansen, ed., From Filippo Lippi to


Piero Della Francesca: Fra Carnevale and the Making of a Renaissance Master,
exh. cat., Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (New York,
2005), pp. 290–98. For Donatello’s relationship with the
organ-maker Matteo degli Organi, see Cesare Guasti, ‘Di un
maestro d’organi del secolo xv nato in Prato e vissuto in Firenze’,
Archivio storico italiano, iii/2 (1865), pp. 53–5.
75 Vasari-Milanese, vol. ii, p. 413.

4 The Paduan Journey


1 H. W. Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello (Princeton, nj, 1963),
pp. 151–61; John Pope-Hennessy, Donatello (New York, 1993),
pp. 199–210; Michael Greenhalgh, Donatello and his Sources (New
York, 1982), pp. 132–47; and Mary Bergstein, ‘Donatello’s
“Gattamelata” and its Humanist Audience’, Renaissance Quarterly,
lv/3 (2002), pp. 833–68. Gattamelata was a pun based on his
mother’s family name.
2 Apparently, Lorenzo de’ Medici kept a Venetian portrait of
Gattamelata in his bedchamber in the Palazzo Medici, as in
Bergstein, ‘Donatello’s “Gattamelata”’, p. 858 n.81.
3 Gattamelata was also survived by a son, underage at the time
of the general’s death and who died in 1455.
4 Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, p. 339 n.17.
5 Uccello’s Paduan activity is undocumented but referenced in at
least two literary sources. Discussion appears in Hugh Hudson,
Paolo Uccello: Artist of the Florentine Renaissance Republic (Saarbrücken,
2008), p. 195 n.1 and cat. 89.
6 Aldo Galli, ‘Vocazione e prime esperienze di Antonio di
Cristoforo e Niccolò Baroncelli, scultori fiorentini a Ferrara’,
Prospettiva, no. 139–40 (2010), pp. 35–57.
7 Leon Battista Alberti, De equo animante (Il cavallo vivo), trans. Antonio
Videtta (Naples, 1991).
8 Translation in Greenhalgh, Donatello and his Sources, p. 132.
9 There must have been painted or sculpted portraits of
Gattamelata for Donatello to consult. He also had many witnesses,
including the general’s widow and young son.
donatello 266

10 It is best viewed from its profile with the observer facing the
church facade and it is principally photographed from this angle.
11 The present tomb inside the basilica, by Gregorio d’Allegretto,
is generally dated 1456–8.
12 The earlier 1470 version is translated in Bonnie A. Bennett and
David G. Wilkins, Donatello (Mt Kisco, ny, 1984), p. 31. Other
translated sources are found in Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello,
pp. 153–5.
13 Volker Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, Rivista dell’Istituto Nazionale
d’Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte, iii/2 (1979), doc. 345b. We do not know
how much of that sum was net profit to the artist.
14 Bennett and Wilkins, Donatello, p. 30.
15 Geraldine A. Johnson, ‘The Original Placement of Donatello’s
Bronze Crucifix in the Santo in Padua’, Burlington Magazine,
cxxxix/1137 (1997), p. 862.
16 Charles M. Rosenberg, ‘Some New Documents Concerning
Donatello’s Unexecuted Monument to Borso d’Este in Modena’,
Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz, xvii/1 (1973),
pp. 149–52.
17 Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, doc. 340.
18 Both the bronze and wood crucifixes are well treated, including
previous bibliography, in Donatello Svelato: Capolavori a confront, ed. M.
Mercalli and A. Nante (Padua, 2015). See especially Francesco
Caglioti, ‘Il Crocifisso ligneo di Donatello’, in La Chiesa di Santa
Maria dei Servi in Padova, ed. Girolamo Zampieri (Rome, 2012),
pp. 153–70.
19 Johnson, ‘The Original Placement’, pp. 860–62.
20 A good biography of Niccolò Pizzolo is Mattia Vinco, ‘Pizzolo
Nicolò di Pietro di Giovanni, detto Nicolò Pizzolo o Pizolo’,
Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, vol. lxxxiv (2015), www.treccani.it,
accessed 15 November 2018.
21 Elisabetta Francescutti, ed., Il restauro del Crocifisso ligneo di Donatello
della Chiesa dei Servi di Padova (Padua, 2016); and Donatello Svelato.
22 The loincloth on the bronze is probably original. The wooden
example was once painted to appear as bronze.
23 The vast literature on the Paduan altar is supplemented most
recently by Geraldine A. Johnson, ‘Approaching the Altar:
267 References

Donatello’s Sculpture in the Santo’, Renaissance Quarterly, lii/3


(1999), pp. 627–66; Creighton E. Gilbert, ‘The Original
Assembly of Donatello’s Padua Altar’, Artibus et Historiae,
xxviii/55, Part 1 (2007), pp. 11–22; and Sarah Blake McHam,
‘Visualizing the Immaculate Conception: Donatello, Francesco
della Rovere, and the High Altar and Choir Screen at the Church
of the Santo in Padua’, Renaissance Quarterly, lxix/3 (2016),
pp. 831–64.
24 John White, Art and Architecture in Italy, 1250–1400 (Harmondsworth,
1987), p. 294.
25 A good summary and bibliography (updated 2010) appears in
Nigel Gauk-Roger, ‘Sacra conversazione’, Grove Art Online,
14 December 2017, www.oxfordartonline.com.
26 The influence of Donatello on Mantegna is well acknowledged
and his Padua altar may be the model for Mantegna’s fictive
architecture as seen in the San Zeno work. See Keith Christiansen,
‘The Genius of Andrea Mantegna’, Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin,
n.s. lxvii/2 (2009), pp. 4–64.
27 Donatello and theatre in the context of the San Lorenzo pulpits is
discussed by Timothy Verdon, ‘Donatello and the Theater: Stage
Space and Projected Space in the San Lorenzo Pulpits’, Artibus et
Historiae, vii/14 (1986), pp. 29–55. His essential argument is also
relevant here. Reconstructions of the original altar are discussed
most recently and with previous bibliography by Gilbert, ‘The
Original Assembly’.
28 It is tempting to speculate a family tie between Antonio Chellini
and Giovanni Chellini, though there is as yet no evidence. I thank
Alison Luchs for bringing this to my attention.
29 Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, pp. 223, 342 n.33. On the manuscripts,
dating and bibliography see Alison Knowles Frazier, Possible
Lives: Authors and Saints in Renaissance Italy (New York, 2005),
pp. 454–5. The miracles are well introduced by Cesìra Gasparotto,
‘Iconografia antoniana: i “miracoli” dell’altare di Donatello’,
Il Santo, n.s. 8 (1968), pp. 79–91.
30 Summarized in Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, pp. 244–7. Documents
in Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, docs 323 and 324.
31 Verdon, ‘Donatello and the Theater’, p. 49.
donatello 268

32 McHam, ‘Visualizing the Immaculate Conception’ and ‘Donatello’s


High Altar in the Santo, Padua’, Verrocchio and Late Quattrocento Italian
Sculpture, ed. S. Bule et al. (Florence, 1992), pp. 259–69.
33 Johnson, ‘Approaching the Altar’.
34 Janson (The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 187) writes, ‘What has
happened here seems so utterly beyond the ordinary scope
of the Quattrocento, so prophetic of the High Renaissance,
that it can be described only as a “mutation” . . . incalculable
in its consequences’.
35 Now in the Musée Jacquemart-André, Paris: Cristina Giannini,
ed., Donatello e una ‘casa’ del Rinascimento: Capolavori dal Jacquemart-
André (Florence, 2007), p. 110; Musée Jacquemart-André, ‘The
Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian’, www.musee-jacquemart-andre.
com/en, accessed 15 November 2018.
36 Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, p. 211, doc. 326.
37 Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, ‘Madonna and Child’,
www.metmuseum.org/art/collection, accessed 15 November 2018;
John Pope-Hennessy, ‘The Madonna Reliefs of Donatello’, in
The Study and Criticism of Italian Sculpture (New York and Princeton,
nj, 1980), pp. 71–105, especially p. 80; and John Pope-Hennessy,
assisted by Ronald Lightbown, Catalogue of Italian Sculpture in the
Victoria and Albert Museum, no. 69, pp. 84–5. The Victoria & Albert
Museum example can be found as ‘The Virgin and Child’,
museum number a.1-1932, at http://collections.vam.ac.uk,
accessed 15 November 2018.
38 Due caution with ample discussion is provided by Lynn Catterson,
‘Stefano Bardini and the Taxonomic Branding of Marketplace
Style: From the Gallery of a Dealer to the Institutional Canon’,
in Images of the Art Museum, ed. Eva-Maria Troelenberg and Melania
Savino (Berlin and Boston, ma, 2017), pp. 41–63. Some of these
examples seem to have been manufactured for the art market
starting in the nineteenth century.
39 Victoria & Albert Museum , ‘The Virgin and Child with Four
Angels’, https://collections.vam.ac.uk, accessed 15 November 2018;
The Springtime of the Renaissance, ed. Beatrice Paolozzi Strozzi and
Marc Bormand (Florence, 2013), cat. viii.7; and Amy R. Bloch,
‘Donatello’s “Chellini Madonna”: Light and Vision’, in Renaissance
269 References

Theories of Vision, ed. John Hendrix and Charles Carman (Farnham-


Burlington, vt, 2010), pp. 63–87. Also see Pope-Hennessy, ‘The
Madonna Reliefs’.
40 Anthony Radcliffe and Charles Avery, ‘The “Chellini Madonna”
by Donatello’, Burlington Magazine, cxviii/879 (1976), pp. 377–87.
41 Translation slightly modernized from Millard Meiss, ‘Light as
Form and Symbol in Some Fifteenth-century Paintings’, Art
Bulletin, xxviii/3 (1945), pp. 175–81; analogy based on Bloch,
‘Donatello’s “Chellini Madonna”’.
42 Marc Bormand, Donatello: La Vierge et l’Enfant, deux reliefs en terre cuite
(Paris, 2008); and Pope-Hennessy, Donatello, pp. 267–9. It was
heavily restored in 1959 and conserved more delicately in 2009.
Other versions of the work exist in the Morgan Library (New
York) and the Collection of Sir Harold Acton (Florence), now
part of New York University.
43 Pope-Hennessy, ‘The Madonna Reliefs’, pp. 95–9.
44 For example, see Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York,
‘Madonna and Child with Seraphim and Cherubim’,
www.metmuseum.org, 15 November 2018, and discussion in
Christiansen, ‘The Genius of Andrea Mantegna’. It compares
favourably in concept and mood to a pigmented terracotta example
in Berlin, heavily damaged, but still able to convey the affection of
the holy figures in ways only Donatello produced at this time.
45 Colin Eisler, The Genius of Jacopo Bellini (New York, 1989).
46 Gaetano Milanesi, Documenti per la storia dell’arte senese, 3 vols (Siena,
1854), vol. ii, pp. 299–300, no. 210.

5 Homecoming
1 Philip Foster, ‘Donatello Notices in Medici Letters’, Art Bulletin,
lxii/1 (1980), pp. 148–50.
2 Ibid.
3 Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, Sculptors and Architects,
10 vols, trans. Gaston du C. de Vere (London, 1912–15), vol. ii,
p. 150; vol. iv, pp. 151–2. In his life of Fra Bartolommeo, Vasari
also claims, ‘Piero del Pugliese had a little Madonna of marble,
in very low relief, a very rare work by the hand of Donatello, for
donatello 270

which, in order to do it honour, he caused a wooden tabernacle to


be made, with two little doors to enclose it.’ Donatello’s relief has
yet to be identified definitively.
4 Bonnie A. Bennett and David G. Wilkins, Donatello (Mt Kisco,
ny, 1984), pp. 59–60; Alan Phipps Darr and Brenda Preyer,
‘Donatello, Desiderio da Settignano and his Brothers and
“Macigno” Sculpture for a Boni Palace in Florence’, Burlington
Magazine, cxli/1161 (1999), pp. 720–31; and Arnold Victor Coonin,
‘Donatello, Desiderio da Settignano, and the Martelli’, in Desiderio
da Settignano, ed. J. Connors et al. (Venice, 2011), pp. 43–60.
5 Arnold Victor Coonin, The Sculpture of Desiderio da Settignano, PhD
thesis, Rutgers University, New Brunswick (Ann Arbor, mi,
1995); Darr and Preyer, ‘Donatello, Desiderio da Settignano’;
and Desiderio da Settignano: Sculptor of Renaissance Florence, ed. Marc
Bormand, Beatrice Paolozzi Strozzi and Nicholas Penny
(Washington, dc, 2007).
6 Coonin, ‘Donatello, Desiderio da Settignano, and the Martelli’,
pp. 45–7.
7 Ibid., pp. 47–50.
8 Francesco Caglioti, Donatello e i Medici: storia del David e della Giuditta
(Florence, 2000); Sarah Blake McHam, ‘Donatello’s Bronze
“David” and “Judith” as Metaphors of Medici Rule in Florence’,
Art Bulletin, lxxxiii/1 (2001), pp. 32–47; Sarah Blake McHam,
‘Donatello’s Judith as the Emblem of God’s Chosen People’, in
The Sword of Judith, ed. Kevin R. Brine et al. (Cambridge, 2010),
pp. 307–24; Roger J. Crum, ‘Severing the Neck of Pride: Donatello’s
“Judith and Holofernes” and the Recollection of Albizzi Shame in
Medicean Florence’, Artibus et Historiae, xxii/44 (2001), pp. 23–9;
and ‘Judith between the Private and Public Realms in Renaissance
Florence’, in Kevin R. Brine et al., The Sword of Judith, pp. 291–306.
Valuable context is provided by Adrian W. B. Randolph, Engaging
Symbols (New Haven, ct, and London, 2002), esp. pp. 242–85.
9 In September 1457 Donatello received money from the Siena
Cathedral Operai for a ‘Guliatte’, which might have been a head
of Goliath or possibly the initiation of the Judith and Holofernes,
which never left Florence. See Volker Herzner, ‘Regesti
donatelliani’, Rivista dell’Istituto Nazionale d’Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte,
271 References

iii/2 (1979), doc. 355; with correct spelling in Volker Herzner,


‘Donatello in Siena’, Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes
in Florenz, xv/2 (1971), pp. 161–86. Also see H. W. Janson,
The Sculpture of Donatello (Princeton, nj, 1963), pp. 198–205; and
John Pope-Hennessy, Donatello (New York, 1993), pp. 277–88.
10 Though the base implies a fountain there is no evidence it ever
served or could have served as such.
11 Translation of the inscriptions, especially into English, is
notoriously difficult. I have followed those offered by Randolph,
Engaging Symbols, p. 252.
12 Ibid. The phrase Salus Publicus was also used on the medal
commemorating Lorenzo de’ Medici (son of Piero) after the Pazzi
conspiracy of 1478. Salus Publicus is here translated literally but
more broadly would imply public salvation or public deliverance.
13 ‘exemplum sal[us] pub[licae] cives pos[uerunt]
mccccxcv’.
14 Herzner, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, doc. 356.
15 Essential documents and discussion are provided by Volker
Herzner, ‘Donatello in Siena’. On the Baptist see Elinor M.
Richter, ‘Donatello’s “Saint John the Baptist” in Siena’, Source:
Notes in the History of Art, v/3 (1986), pp. 21–6.
16 Billi, as translated in Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 196.
17 Arguments have been made that the present arm is in fact by
Donatello but it is not conclusively referenced until 1474 and
thus unlikely to be by the master.
18 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 206.
19 A good overview with sources is found online at the Victoria
& Albert Museum: ‘Lamentation of the Dead Christ’, http://
collections.vam.ac.uk, accessed 15 November 2018.
20 Monika Butzek, ‘The Donatello Tondo and its Original Location’,
in Donatello: Maria mater gratiae, mater misericordiae (Siena, 2015),
pp. 10–21. Butzek clarifies the original destination of the work.
21 Robert Munman, ‘Urbano da Cortona: Corrections and
Contributions’, in Verrocchio, pp. 225–41.
22 It is possible, as noted by Butzek, that the Madonna was begun in
Florence. Stylistically, the Virgin’s face compares favourably to the
face of the bronze Judith, thus linking them to the same period.
donatello 272

23 Discussion appears in The Springtime of the Renaissance, ed. Beatrice


Paolozzi Strozzi and Marc Bormand (Florence, 2013), cat. v.2; and
Francesco Caglioti in In the Light of Apollo: Italian Renaissance and Greece,
ed. Mina Gregori (Milan, 2003), pp. 198–200.
24 Herzner, ‘Donatello in Siena’.
25 Herzner, Regesti, doc. 371.
26 Translation in Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 209.
27 Vasari, Lives, trans. de Vere, vol. ii, pp. 251–2.
28 Bennett and Wilkins, Donatello, p. 14.
29 ‘e le cere da far gittare di bronzo I pergami di San Lorenzo, e il
modello dell’altar maggiore, con la sepoltura di Cosimo a’ piedi’.
Giorgio Vasari, Ragionamenti (Pisa, 1863), pp. 105–6.
30 The architectural development of San Lorenzo is covered by
Marvin Trachtenberg, ‘Building and Writing S. Lorenzo in
Florence: Architect, Biographer, Patron and Prior’, Art Bulletin,
xcvii/2 (2015), pp. 140–72. On the pulpit and tomb issue see
Luisa Beccherucci, I pergami di S. Lorenzo (Florence, 1979); and Janis
Clearfield, ‘The Tomb of Cosimo de’ Medici in San Lorenzo’,
Rutgers Art Review, 2 (1981), pp. 13–30.
31 Timothy Verdon, ‘Donatello and the Theater: Stage Space and
Projected Space in the San Lorenzo Pulpits’, Artibus et Historiae,
vii/14 (1986), pp. 29–55.
32 Janson, The Sculpture of Donatello, p. 209.
33 Ibid., p. 210.
34 Howard Saalman, ‘The San Lorenzo Pulpits: A Cosimo Portrait?’,
Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz, xxx/3 (1986),
pp. 587–9.
35 This is also similar to the head of Goliath at the feet of the bronze
David. It would not have been appropriate, however, for the artist
to deliberately render his own features as Christ. The Bust of
San Rossore as a self-portrait is found in Moskowitz, ‘Donatello’s
Reliquary Bust of Saint Rossore’, Art Bulletin, lxiii/1 (1981),
pp. 46–7. Ludwig Goldscheider in Donatello (London, 1941)
suggests a self-portrait in the Pentecost scene in the figure of Peter,
due to sculptor’s tools on the floor in front of him (p. 39).
36 Philip Sohn, The Artist Grows Old: The Aging of Art and Artists in Italy,
1500–1800 (New Haven, ct, and London, 2007); David Rosand,
273 References

‘Style and the Aging Artist’, Art Journal, xlvi/2 (1987), pp. 91–3;
Kenneth Clark, ‘The Artist Grows Old’, Daedalus, cxxxv/1
(2006), pp. 77–90; and Rudolph Arnheim, New Essays on the
Psychology of Art (Berkeley, ca, 1986), pp. 285–94.
37 Sohn, The Artist Grows Old, p. 8.
38 Interviews on the subject with contemporary artists appear in
Art Journal, liii/1 (1994).
39 Clark, ‘The Artist Grows Old’, p. 81.
40 Rosand, ‘Style and the Aging Artist’, p. 93 n.5. The ascription of
the phrase to Michelangelo is probably apocryphal, though still
highly cited, and Picasso would have been following popular belief.
41 Vasari, Lives, trans. DeVere, vol. ii, p. 252.
42 Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Artists, trans. George Bull (New York,
1965), p. 189.
43 Pomponio Gaurico, De sculptura, ed. Paolo Cutolo (Naples, 1999),
p. 253.
44 See Gary M. Radke, ed., Leonardo da Vinci and the Art of Sculpture
(New Haven, ct, and London, 2009).
45 As recounted by Vasari in his life of Luca della Robbia.
46 A. Victor Coonin, From Marble to Flesh: The Biography of Michelangelo’s
David (Florence, 2014); and with rich documentation in John
T. Paoletti, Michelangelo’s David: Florentine History and Civic Identity
(Cambridge, 2015). The thesis is first explored in Charles
Seymour, Michelangelo’s David: A Search for Identity (New York, 1967).
47 Another document offers Hercules, which is less likely but
certainly possible.
48 Document transcribed with discussion in H. W. Janson, ‘Giovanni
Chellini’s “libro” and Donatello’, Studien zur Toskanischen Kunst
(Munich, 1964), pp. 131–8.
49 Giovanni Gaye, Carteggio inedito d’artisti dei secoli xiv, xv, xvi
(Florence, 1839–40), vol. ii, p. 465. Discussion in Coonin, From
Marble to Flesh, pp. 32–48; and Seymour, Michelangelo’s David, pp. 36–8.
50 Vasari, Lives, trans. de Vere, vol. ii, p. 255. Vasari gives the source
as a notation in a book of drawings owned by Vincenzo Borghini
where examples of the two artists were shown side by side. For
clarity I have modernized the spelling of the artists’ names.
select bibliography

Alberti, Leon Battista, On Painting, trans. John R. Spencer


(New Haven, ct, 1970)
Avery, Charles, Donatello: An Introduction (New York, 1994)
Becherucci, Luisa, and Giulia Brunetti, eds, Il Museo dell’Opera del Duomo
a Firenze, 2 vols (Milan, 1969–70)
Bennett, Bonnie A., and David G. Wilkins, Donatello (Mt Kisco,
ny, 1984)
Bergstein, Mary, The Sculpture of Nanni di Banco (Princeton, nj, 2000)
Bormand, Marc, Beatrice Paolozzi Strozzi and Nicholas Penny, eds,
Desiderio da Settignano: Sculptor of Renaissance Florence (Washington,
dc, 2007)
Butterfield, Andrew, ed., Donatello in Motion: A Spiritello Rediscovered
(Minneapolis, mn, 2015)
Caglioti, Francesco, Donatello e i Medici: storia del ‘David’ e della ‘Giuditta’
(Florence, 2000)
Connors, J., A. Nova, B. Paolozzi Strozzi and G. Wolf, eds, Desiderio da
Settignano (Venice, 2011)
Coonin, A. Victor, From Marble to Flesh: The Biography of Michelangelo’s David
(Florence, 2014)
—, ‘Donatello, Desiderio da Settignano, and the Martelli’, in Desiderio
da Settignano, ed. J. Connors, A. Nova, B. Paolozzi Strozzi and
G. Wolf (Venice, 2011), pp. 43–60
—, ‘The Sculpture of Desiderio da Settignano’, PhD thesis, Rutgers,
New Brunswick (Ann Arbor, mi, 1995)
—, ‘The Spirit of Water: Reconsidering the Putto Mictans Sculpture
in Renaissance Florence’, in A Scarlett Renaissance: Essays in Honor of
Sarah McHam, ed. A. Victor Coonin (New York, 2013), pp. 81–110
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Goldscheider, Ludwig, Donatello (London, 1941)
Greenhalgh, Michael, Donatello and his Sources (New York, 1982)
Hartt, Frederick, Donatello: Prophet of Modern Vision (New York, 1973)
Herzner, Volker, ‘Regesti donatelliani’, Rivista dell’Istituto Nazionale
d’Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte, iii/2 (1979), pp. 169–228
Hudson, Hugh, Paolo Uccello: Artist of the Florentine Renaissance Republic
(Saarbrücken, 2008)
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Kunst (Munich, 1964), pp. 131–8
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Main, 1998)
Krautheimer, Richard, Lorenzo Ghiberti (Princeton, nj, 1982)
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Patrons in the Early Renaissance, 2 vols (London, 1980)
Manetti, Antonio di Tuccio, The Fat Woodworker, trans. Robert L.
Martone and Valerie Martone (New York, 1991)
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(Padua, 2015)
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(Munich, 2002)
Pope-Hennessy, John, Donatello (New York, 1993)
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––, The Study and Criticism of Italian Sculpture (New York and Princeton,
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in Fifteenth-century Florence (New Haven, ct, and London, 2002)
Rosenauer, Artur, Donatello (Milan, 1993)
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Works of Art Formerly in the Berlin Museums’, Jahrbuch Preußischer
Kulturbesitz, 51 (2015), pp. 140–63
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Bormand (Florence, 2013)
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ed. Gaetano Milanesi, 9 vols (Florence, 1878–85)
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acknowledgements

Many people deserve thanks for helping to make this long-gestating


book a reality. I first thank Michael Leaman and the staff at Reaktion
Books for fortuitously encouraging a monograph of Donatello after
many years of my preparing for just such an opportunity. I hope to have
made the artist more human and his contributions more understand­
able in the process. My academic readers have been indispensable and
all went well beyond the call of collegiality to save me from pitfalls, offer
suggestions and better inform me about the artist and his times. For their
forthright edits, heartfelt appreciation goes to Amy Bloch, Alison Luchs,
John Paoletti and David Wilkins. Gary Radke, as always, offered enthu­
si­astic encouragement at crucial moments. As a group that has always
spurred my thinking about Donatello, I thank the participants in the
quad­­­rennial Italian Renaissance Sculpture Confer­ence. Behind the
scenes I thank Kenan Padgett for her superla­tive and ever cheerful
help procuring source materials, and Emily Wehby and Clare Misko for
some last-minute proofreading. Rhodes College generously funded my
research, especially through the James F. Ruffin Professorship of Art.
My family, as usual, indulged me heroically. My friends encouraged me
unconditionally, especially those not in the field. A special note of appre­
ciation goes to the photographer known as Sailko for generously donating
his innumerable images of sculpture into the public domain and to all
those who have done similarly. Finally, my stu­dents never cease to prove
that there are always new questions to be asked and new ways to consider
art. I hope to have given back to them as much as I have received.
photo acknowledgements

The author and publishers wish to express their thanks to the below
sources of illustrative material and/or permission to reproduce it.
Some locations of artworks are also given below, in the interests of
brevity:

Photo A. Victor Coonin: 15; akg-images/Rabatti & Domingie: 1;


Archive Timothy McCarthy/Art Resource, ny: 11; bpk Bildagentur/
Skulpturensammlung und Museum für Byzantinische Kunst, Berlin,
photo Jörg P. Anders/Art Resource, ny: 29; photo David Lown: 23; ©
dea/g nimatallah/De Agostini Editore/age fotostock: 76; Detroit
Institute of Arts, Gift of Mr and Mrs Edsel B. Ford: 66; Erich Lessing/
Art Resource, ny: 2, 68; © Institut de France/Musée Jacquemart André:
62; The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York/Rogers Fund, 1912: 63;
Ministero dei beni e delle attività culturali e del turismo per il Veneto:
57; The Minneapolis Institute of Art, The William Hood Dunwoody
Fund: 44; Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Florence: 6, 17, 18, 19, 20, 42,
53; Museum of Fine Arts, Boston: 33; © Hans Ollermann: 67; Palais des
Beaux-Arts, Lille: 46; Scala/Art Resource, ny: 10, 14, 31, 36, 49, 50, 51,
56, 60, 61, 70, 71, 75; Scala/Ministero per i Beni e le Attività culturali/
Art Resource, ny: 13; photo Scala, Florence: 9; © Victoria and Albert
Museum, London: 32, 64, 72; Volkova Natalia/Shutterstock.com: 58.

MattiasKabel, the copyright holder of image 25; Richardfabi, the copy­


right holder of images 4, 7; and Sailko, the copyright holder of images
3, 5, 8, 21, 24, 26, 27, 28, 30, 34, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 43, 45, 47, 48, 54,
65, 69, 74 have published them online under conditions imposed by a
279 Photo Acknowledgements

Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License; Andrzej Otrębski,


the copy­­­right holder of image 35; Chris Light, the copyright holder of
image 55; Didier Descouens, the copyright holder of image 52; Jordi­
ferrer, the copyright holder of image 12; José Luiz Bernardes Ribeiro, the
copyright holder of image 59; and Miguel Hermoso Cuesta, the copyright
holder of images 16, 22, 73; have published them online under conditions
imposed by a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 Interna­
tional License.
Readers are free:
to share – to copy and redistribute the material in any medium
or format.
to adapt – remix, transform, and build upon the material for
any purpose, even commercially.
Under the following conditions:
attribution – You must give appropriate credit, provide a link to
the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so
in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the
licensor endorses you or your use.
share alike – If you remix, transform, or build upon the material,
you must distribute your contributions under the same license as
the original.
index

Illustration numbers are indicated by italics.

Abraham and Isaac 66–7, 69, 19 Baroncelli, Niccolò 173, 179


abstraction 72, 74, 75–7 Bearded Prophet 64–6, 17
Agostino di Duccio 242 Beardless Prophet 66, 68, 71, 18
David commission 243 Bellano, Bartolomeo 217, 236
Joshua companion figure 242 Bellini, Jacopo 204–5
Alberti, Leon Battista 130–31, Benedetto da Maiano 104,
165–6, 173–4 240
On Painting 12–13, 130–33, 187 Bertoldo di Giovanni 12, 217,
Alfonso v of Aragon commission 236–7, 240, 243
229 Boni Family Coat of Arms 210,
Andrea del Caldiere 172, 175, 181 211–12, 66
androgyny and ambiguity 139–46 Botticelli 93, 146, 151
Antonio di Cristoforo 173 Brancacci, Rainaldo tomb 97–8,
Aragazzi, Barolomeo tomb 97 99, 31
architectural designs 191–2 bronze roundel, reverse as mould
Ascension with Christ Giving the Keys 199–202, 64
to St Peter 98–101, 32 Brunelleschi, Filippo 12, 13,
Assumption of the Virgin 98, 99, 31 18–20, 25–6, 35–7, 72
Assumption of the Virgin (Nanni) 70 Crucifix 36, 38–9, 40, 8
Atys-Amorino (Spiritello) 148, death 172
149–51, 51 Donatello friendship 18–20,
22, 24–5, 166
Bandinelli, Baccio 161, 172, 236, experimental figure in gilded
237 lead 59–60
Bardi, Niccolò di Betto Florence Cathedral dome 59,
(Donatello’s father) 17–18 106, 131
281 Index

Manetto prank 35–8 Dati tomb slab (Ghiberti) 94


Mary Magdalene 154–5 David
perspective 18, 19, 25, 41, 54, bronze 16–17, 39, 139–49,
100, 130, 131 218–19, 49–50
Prato Cathedral pulpit marble 29, 58, 60–61, 106–7,
104–5 243, 15
Sacrifice of Isaac 20–22, 23, 159, 3 David (Michelangelo) 16, 61, 143,
San Lorenzo church, Old 243–4
Sacristy 158, 159, 161, 166 Della Robbia family 240
Della Robbia, Giovanni, Dovizia
Cavalcanti Annunciation 136–9, 149, 128, 129, 44
48 Della Robbia, Luca 12, 13, 70, 80,
Chellini, Giovanni 207, 209, 242 120, 162, 173, 217
Chellini Madonna 199–202, 203, 64 Florence Cathedral, organ
Ciuffagni, Bernardo di Piero (choir) lofts 112–13, 114, 37
28–9, 33, 34, 64 Desiderio da Settignano 12, 104,
classicism 25–6, 89, 106, 127, 141 149, 217, 240
collaborations 59–85, 113, 123–4, Boni Family Coat of Arms 210,
128–31, 166, 172–3, 180–82, 212, 66
211–15, 227–9 Martelli Family Coat of Arms 212,
Coronation Window 123, 124–5, 213, 67
126, 43 Martelli sarcophagus 212, 215,
Cosimo de’ Medici 11, 74, 110, 69
111–12, 144, 146, 167, 171, St John the Baptist (Martelli
230–31, 241 Baptist) 214, 68
death 220, 232, 237 design, art of 124–36
exile 169 Donatello
urban revitalization 158 artistic identity, fashioning
Cossa, Baldassare 62–3, 64 26–41
tomb 81–5, 89, 97, 105, 23 birth and birth name 18
Crivelli, Giovanni, tomb slab 109 Brunelleschi friendship
Crucifix 18–20, 22, 24–5, 59
bronze 180–83, 56 classicism 25–6, 89, 106, 127,
wooden 37, 38–40, 182, 183, 9, 141
57 collaborations 59–85, 113,
Crucifix (Brunelleschi) 36, 38–9, 123–4, 128–31, 166, 172–3,
40, 8 180–82, 211–15, 227–9
donatello 282

death 17, 239, 243 Coronation Window 123, 124–5,


eccentricities 9–11 126, 43
financial situation 78–9, Crucifix, bronze 180–83, 56
178–9, 191, 207, 208, 209, Crucifix, wooden 37, 38–40,
230, 241 182, 183, 9, 57
Florence homecoming 207–44 David, bronze 16–17, 39, 139–
Florence, reasons for leaving 49, 218–19, 49–50
166–8 David, marble 29, 58, 60–61,
generosity 9, 10, 11 106–7, 243, 15
goldsmithing 18, 19, 25, 72 Dovizia 127–8, 138
as Goliath 146–7, 50 Entombment 196
health concerns 205, 207, 208, Faith 88–9, 90, 221, 25
209, 230 Feast of Herod 86–7, 222, 24
imprisonment 59 Feast of Herod, Lille relief 133–6,
legacy 16–17, 216–17, 236–7, 139, 46
239–41, 243–4 Gattamelata 130, 170–72,
old age 231, 237–8 173–9, 180, 55
portrait 11–12, 14–15, 2 Habakkuk (Zuccone) 71, 77,
sexuality 143–5 120–23, 138, 143, 42
unreliability 117–20, 178–80 Hope 88–9, 91, 221, 26
volatile temperament 17–18 Jeremiah 71, 73, 20
Donatello, works of art Joshua 34–5, 59, 241
Abraham and Isaac 66–7, 69, 19 Judith and Holofernes 143, 216,
Ascension with Christ Giving the 218–21, 70
Keys to St Peter 98–101, 32 Lamentation 225, 226, 72
Assumption of the Virgin 98, 99, Madonna and Child with St
31 Anthony and St Francis 188, 189,
Atys-Amorino (Spiritello) 148, 60
149–51, 51 Madonna of the Clouds 101, 102,
Bearded Prophet 64–6, 17 33
Beardless Prophet 66, 68, 71, 18 Madonna delle Grazie 226–8, 73
Boni Family Coat of Arms 210, Madonna Piot 202–3, 204, 65
211–12, 66 Martelli Baptist 214, 215, 68
Cavalcanti Annunciation 136–9, Martelli Family Coat of Arms 211,
149, 48 212, 213, 67
Chellini Madonna 199–202, 203, Martyrdom of St Lawrence 233,
64 235, 75
283 Index

Martyrdom of St Sebastian 197, Entombment 196


198, 62 equestrian monument revival 14,
Mary Magdalene 39, 143, 154–7, 17, 130, 170–75
53
Marzocco 61–4, 138, 16 Faith 88–9, 90, 221, 25
Miracle of the Miser’s Heart 194 Feast of Herod 86–7, 222, 24
Miracle of the Mule 193–4 Lille relief 133–6, 139, 46
Miracle of the New-born Child 194 Filarete 49
Miracle of the Repentant Son Five Florentine Men 11–12, 14–15, 2
192–3, 194–5, 61 Florence
Pazzi Madonna 101–2, 103, 34 Brancacci chapel 98–9
Primavera 93 Donatello’s homecoming
Prophet 29, 31, 6 207–44
The Raising of Drusiana 163 Donatello’s reasons for
St George 29, 49–53, 54–5, 60, leaving 166–8
133, 161, 13–14 government palace, Sala
St John the Baptist, bronze 222–3, dell’Orologio 60, 61
224, 71 Medici palace 10, 141, 145,
St John the Baptist (Martelli 147–8, 158, 218, 220–21
Baptist) 214, 215, 68 Medici palace, Judith and
St John the Baptist, wooden 152, Holofernes 216, 218–21, 70
153–4, 155, 52 Mercato Vecchio mural
St John the Evangelist 32, 33–4, (Uccello) 125–7
59, 7 Ognissanti church 75, 79
St John on Patmos 163 Orsanmichele 41–53, 54–6,
St Louis of Toulouse 71–5, 76, 84, 60, 64, 66, 71–4, 84
89, 149, 21 Florence, Baptistery
St Mark 16, 43–7, 60, 66, 143, 11 Cossa tomb 81–5, 89, 97,
San Rossore 75–7, 22 105, 23
Spiritello (Atys-Amorino) 148, doors 20–24, 26, 164–5, 3–4
149–51, 51 Mary Magdalene 154–7, 53
Tabernacle 108, 109, 36 Florence Cathedral
Verona Madonna 199, 200, 63 buttress spurs commissions
Zuccone 71, 77, 120–23, 138, 30, 35, 59, 60, 241
143, 42 campanile (bell tower) 59,
Dovizia 127–8, 138 64–7, 71, 120–21
Dovizia (Della Robbia) 128, 129, 44 chapel reliefs 120
donatello 284

consecration 131 Gattamelata 130, 170–72, 173–9,


dome (Brunelleschi) 59, 106, 180, 55
131 Gaurico, Pomponio 9, 13, 239
Hawkwood fresco (Uccello) Ghiberti, Lorenzo 12, 13, 42, 62,
128–30, 132, 173, 175, 45 80, 85, 89
Opera del Duomo workshop Dati tomb slab 94
27–33, 59, 61 death 217
organ (choir) lofts 112–17, Donatello, working with
118–19, 149, 37–9 26–7
Porta della Mandorla 27, 28, financial situation 79
29, 31, 70, 5–6 Florence Baptistry doors
sacristy doors 120 22–4, 26, 223, 4
seated evangelists on facade Florence Cathedral
33 stained-glass window 123–4,
stained-glass window 123–5, 125
126, 43 Gates of Paradise 164–5
Florence, San Lorenzo church, Sacrifice of Isaac 20, 22–3, 4
Old Sacristy 157–66, 167, 54 St John the Baptist 43, 44, 71, 10
bronze doors 165–6, 223 St Matthew 72
bronze pulpits 231, 232–8, Ghiberti, Vittorio 217
240–41, 74–6 goldsmithing 18, 19, 25, 72
Florence, Santa Croce church
74 Habakkuk (Zuccone) 71, 77, 120–23,
Cavalcanti Annunciation 138, 143, 42
altarpiece 136–9, 149, 48 Hawkwood, Sir John, fresco
Crucifix 37, 38–40, 182, 183, 9 (Uccello) 128–30, 132, 173,
Florence, Santa Maria Novella 175, 45
church Hope 88–9, 91, 221, 26
crucifix (Brunelleschi) 36,
38–9, 8 Isaiah (Nanni) 30, 241
Dati tomb slab (Ghiberti) 94
Marzocco 61–4, 16 Jacopo della Quercia 79, 86, 93
Trinity fresco (Masaccio) Jeremiah 71, 73, 20
40–41, 54 Joshua 34–5, 59, 241
companion figure 242
Gates of Paradise (Ghiberti) Judith and Holofernes 143, 216,
164–5 218–21, 70
285 Index

Lamberti, Niccolò di Piero 28–9, Mary Magdalene (Brunelleschi)


34 154–5
St Luke 42 Marzocco 61–4, 138, 16
St Mark 33 Masaccio 12, 13, 98–9
Lamentation 225, 226, 72 Tribute Money 99
legacy 16–17, 216–17, 236–7, Trinity fresco 40–41, 54
239–41, 243–4 Maso di Bartolomeo 80, 105,
Lille relief, Feast of Herod 133–6, 120
139, 46 Michelangelo 47, 217
Lotto, Lorenzo, Venus and Cupid 151 David 16, 61, 143, 243–4
Madonna of the Stairs 135, 136, 47
Madonna and Child with St Anthony Michelozzo di Bartolomeo 12, 64,
and St Francis 188, 189, 60 111, 113, 120, 164, 167, 217, 232
Madonna of the Clouds 101, 102, 33 Donatello partnership 78,
Madonna delle Grazie 226–8, 73 79–85, 88–9, 97, 208
Madonna Piot 202–3, 204, 65 Prato Cathedral pulpit 104–6,
Madonna of the Stairs 107, 110, 112, 117–19, 149, 35,
(Michelangelo) 135, 136, 47 40–41
Manetti, Antonio 12, 24–5, Miracle of the Miser’s Heart 194
35–7, 161, 166 Miracle of the Mule 193–4
Manetto prank 35–8 Miracle of the New-born Child 194
Mantegna, Andrea 170, 180, Miracle of the Repentant Son 192–3,
203–5 194–5, 61
San Zeno Altarpiece 186, 187, Modena, Borso d’Este
59 commission 179–80, 205
Mantua, Arca di Sant’ Anselmo
commission 179, 228 Nanni di Banco 12, 28–9, 59, 64,
Martelli, Roberto 106–7, 109, 71, 113, 217
215 Assumption of the Virgin 70
Martelli Baptist 214, 215, 68 death 67–70
Martelli Family Coat of Arms 211, 212, Isaiah 30, 241
213, 67 legacy 70
Martelli sarcophagus 212, 215, 69 Porta della Mandorla 70
Martin v 62–4 Quattro Santi Coronati 48–9, 50,
Martyrdom of St Lawrence 233, 235, 75 54, 67, 12
Martyrdom of St Sebastian 197, 198, 62 St Luke 33–4
Mary Magdalene 39, 143, 154–7, 53 St Philip 47–8
donatello 286

Nanni di Bartolo (il Rosso) 64, 78 Pazzi Madonna 101–2, 103, 34


Abraham and Isaac 66–7, 69, 19 Pecci, Giovanni, tomb slab 93–6,
Obadiah 67, 78 222, 30
Naples, Sant’Angelo a Nilo perspective 13, 54–6, 88, 131,
church, Brancacci tomb 97–8, 133–4, 162–3, 228
99, 31 atmospheric 55–6
nudes 39, 141–2, 143, 183 Brunelleschi 18, 19, 25, 41, 54,
nudity 141–2, 150–51, 183 100, 130, 131
Uccello 125, 130
Obadiah (Nanni (il Rosso)) 67, 78 see also optical corrections, use
optical corrections, use of 34, 40, of
45–7, 54–5, 66 perspective (Brunelleschi) 54,
see also perspective 100, 130, 131
Perugino 17
Padua 169–70, 205–6 Petrini, Francesco and Raffaello,
Ferrarese horse 173, 174 Chain Map 6, 1
Santa Maria dei Servi church, Pistoia 17, 18–19
Crucifix 183, 57 Pizzolo, Niccolò 180–81, 190, 205
Santo church, Crucifix 180–83, Pollaiuolo, Antonio 217, 240
56 Prato Cathedral pulpit 104–6,
Santo church, Gattamelata 130, 107, 110, 112, 117–19, 149, 35,
170–72, 173–9, 55 40–41
Padua, St Anthony church altar Primavera 93
184–5, 187–96, 58 Prophet 29, 31, 6
Entombment 196
Madonna and Child with St Quattro Santi Coronati (Nanni)
Anthony and St Francis 188, 189, 48–9, 50, 54, 67, 12
60
Miracle of the Miser’s Heart 194 The Raising of Drusiana 163
Miracle of the Mule 193–4 Raphael 17
Miracle of the New-born Child 194 relief sculpture (schiacciato) 13,
Miracle of the Repentant Son 192– 53–5, 97–104, 133–6, 162, 165
3, 194–5, 61 Renaissance art, dawn of 41–56
textual source 191 Rinuccini, Alamanno 14–15, 16
Pagno di Lapo di Portigiani 84, Rome 24–5
105, 109 St Peter’s tabernacle 108,
painted stucco 161–4 109, 36
287 Index

Santa Maria in Aracoeli, bronze doors 223–6, 229–30,


Crivelli tomb slab 109 72
Rossellino, Antonio 12, 70, 104, font 85–93, 133, 221–2, 24–9
199, 217, 240 Madonna delle Grazie chapel
226–8, 73
Sacrifice of Isaac (Brunelleschi) Pecci tomb slab 93–6, 222, 30
20–22, 23, 159, 3 St John the Baptist 222–3, 224, 71
Sacrifice of Isaac (Ghiberti) 20, small-scale objects 196–206, 209
22–3, 4 speaking sculptures 112–24
St George 29, 49–53, 54–5, 60, 133, spiritelli 39, 92–3, 94, 95, 141, 27–8
161, 13–14 Boni Family Coat of Arms 210,
St John the Baptist 211, 66
bronze 222–3, 224, 71 Cavalcanti Annunciation 137, 138,
wooden 152, 153–4, 155, 52 149, 48
St John the Baptist (Ghiberti) 43, choir lofts 113
44, 71, 10 Gattamelata 176
St John the Baptist (Martelli Baptist) Judith and Holofernes 216, 219,
214, 215, 68 70
St John the Evangelist 32, 33–4, 59, 7 Martelli Family Coat of Arms 212,
St John on Patmos 163 213, 67
St Louis of Toulouse 71–5, 76, 84, 89, Prato Cathedral 117–18, 119,
149, 21 40–41
St Luke (Lamberti) 42 Siena Cathedral 221
St Luke (Nanni) 33–4 Spiritello (Atys-Amorino) 148,
St Mark 16, 43–7, 60, 66, 143, 11 149–51, 51
St Mark (Lamberti) 33
St Matthew (Ghiberti) 72 Tabernacle 108, 109, 36
St Philip (Nanni) 47–8 Tribute Money (Masaccio) 99
San Rossore 75–7, 22 Trinity fresco (Masaccio) 40–41,
San Zeno Altarpiece (Mantegna) 54
186, 187, 59 Turini, Giovanni 80, 86, 89, 92,
schiacciato (relief sculpture) 13, 93
53–5, 98–102, 133–6, 162, 165
sculpture as theatre 184–96 Uccello, Paolo 11–12, 163, 167
Serragli, Bartolomeo di Paolo 229 Mercato Vecchio mural 125–7
Siena 221–2, 229–30 in Padua 172–3
Siena Cathedral 79 perspective 125, 130
donatello 288

Sir John Hawkwood fresco Vespasiano da Bisticci 11


128–30, 132, 173, 175, 45 Vitelleschi, Giovanni 10
Urbano da Cortona 190, 226–8
youth theme 139–52
Vasari, Giorgio observations
Atys-Amorino 149–50 Zuccone 71, 77, 120–23, 138, 143, 42
Brunelleschi friendship 19,
24–5
Chellini Madonna 203
David 139–41
Donatello as force of nature
15–16
Donatello’s character 9, 10
Donatello’s legacy 217
Donatello’s old age 231–2,
236, 239
Donatello’s portrait 12
Donatello’s return to Florence
167, 172, 205
Manetto prank 38
Martelli sarcophagus 212
Nanni di Banco 30, 48, 67
Paduan works 197
Pizzolo, Niccolò 180–81
St George 49–50
St Louis 74–5
St Mark 45–6, 47–8
small objects, production of
209, 211
Uccello, Paolo 125
Zuccone 121
Venice, Frari church, St John the
Baptist 152, 153–4, 52
Venus and Cupid (Lotto) 151
Verona Madonna 199, 200, 63
verre églomisé technique 203
Verrocchio 70, 104, 217, 240

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