The Book of Art for Young People | Page 9

very precious thing indeed to a Florentine of the
thirteenth century, and we may try to imagine ourselves walking
joyfully in that Florentine procession so as the better to understand
Florentine Art.

I have repeated this legend about Cimabue, because he was the master
of Giotto, who is called the Father of Modern Painting. The story is that
Cimabue one day came upon the boy Giotto, who was a shepherd, and
found him drawing a sheep with a pointed piece of stone upon a
smooth surface of rock. He was so much struck with the drawing that
he took the boy home and taught him, and soon he in his turn far
surpassed his master. In order to appreciate Giotto we need to go to
Assisi, Florence, or Padua, for in each place he has painted a series of
wall-paintings. In the great double church of Assisi, built by the
Franciscans over the grave of St. Francis within a few years of his
death, Giotto has illustrated the whole story of his life. An isolated
reproduction of one scene would give you no idea of their power. In
many respects he was an innovator, and by the end of his life had
broken away completely from the Byzantine school of painting. He
composed each one of the scenes from the life of St. Francis in an
original and dramatic manner, and so vividly that a person
unacquainted with the story would know what was going on. Standing
in the nave of the Upper Church, you are able to contrast these
speaking scenes of the lives of people upon earth, with the faded glories
of great-winged angels and noble Madonnas with Greek faces, that
were painted in the Byzantine style when the church was at its newest,
before Giotto was born. These look down upon us still from the east
end of the church.
Giotto died in 1337, and for the next fifty years painters in Italy did
little but imitate him. Scenes from the life of St. Francis and incidents
from the legends of other saints remained in vogue, but they were not
treated in original fashion by succeeding artists. The new men only
tried to paint as Giotto might have painted, and so far from surpassing
him, he was never even equalled by his followers.
We need not burden our memories with the names of these 'Giottesque'
artists; and now, after this glimpse of an almost vanished world, we
will turn our attention to England and to the first picture of our choice.

CHAPTER III
RICHARD II.
Our first picture is a portrait of Richard II. on his coronation day in the
year 1377, when he was ten years old. It is the earliest one selected, and
the eyes of those who see it for the first time will surely look surprised.
The jewel-like effect of the sapphire-winged angels and coral-robed
Richard against the golden background is not at all what we are
accustomed to see. Nowadays it may take some time and a little
patience before we can cast ourselves back to the year 1377 and look at
the picture with the eyes of the person who painted it. Let us begin with
a search for his purpose and meaning at least.
The picture is a diptych--that is to say, it is a painting done upon two
wings or shutters hinged, so as to allow of their being closed together.
You have no doubt been wondering why I called it a portrait, for the
picture is far from being what to-day would commonly be described as
such. Richard himself is not even the most conspicuous figure; and he
is kneeling and praying to the Virgin. What should we think if any
living sovereign, ordering a state portrait, had himself portrayed
surrounded on one side by his predecessors on the throne, and on the
other side by the Virgin and Child and angels? But, in the fourteenth
century, it was nothing strange that the Virgin and Child, the angels,
John the Baptist, Edward the Confessor, Edmund the Martyr, and
Richard II. should be thus depicted. When we have realized that it was
usual for a royal patron to command and an artist to paint such an
assemblage of personages, as though all of them were then living and
in one another's presence, we have learnt something significant and
impressive about a way of thinking in the Middle Ages. Richard II.
thought of himself as the successor of a long line of kings, appointed by
the Divine Power to rule a small portion of the Divine Territories, so
what more natural than that he, as the newly reigning sovereign, should
have his portrait painted, surrounded by his holiest predecessors upon
the throne, and in the act of dedicating his kingdom to the