The Madonna in Art | Page 4

Estelle M. Hurll
possible way,
the half-length portrait picture. Several of these he painted upon the
walls of his own convent, glorifying that dim place of prayer and
fasting with visions of radiant and happy motherhood. One of these
may still be seen in the cell sometimes called the Capella Giovanato. It
instantly recalls the Tempi Madonna of Raphael, both in the pose of the
figure and in the genuineness of feeling exhibited. Damp and decay
have warred in vain against it, and the modern visitor lingers before the
Mother and Babe with hushed admiration.
Two other similar frescoes have been removed to the Academy. They
show the same motherly tenderness, the same innocent and beautiful
babyhood. The mother holds her child close in her arms, pressing her
forehead to his, or bending her cheek to receive his kiss. He throws his
little arm about her neck, clinging to her veil or caressing her face.
Besides this group of pictures by Bartolommeo, there are other
scattered instances of portrait Madonnas during the Italian Renaissance,
by men too great to be tied to the fashions of their day. Mantegna was

such a painter, and Luini another. All told, however, their pictures of
this sort make up a class too rare to deserve longer description.
A century later, the Spanish school occasionally reverted to the same
style of treatment. A pair of notable pictures are the Madonna of
Bethlehem, by Alonzo Cano, and the Madonna of the Napkin, by
Murillo. Both are in Seville, the latter in the museum, the former still
hanging in its original place in the cathedral.
Of Cano's work, a great authority[1] on Spanish art has written, that,
"in serene, celestial beauty, it is excelled by no image of the blessed
Mary ever devised in Spain." Murillo's picture is better known, and has
a curious interest from its history. The cook in the Capuchin monastery,
where the artist had been painting, begged a picture as a parting gift.
No canvas being at hand, a napkin was offered instead, on which the
master painted a Madonna, unexcelled among his works in brilliancy of
color.
[Footnote 1: Stirling-Maxwell, in "Annals of the Artists of Spain."]
[Illustration: GABRIEL MAX.--MADONNA AND CHILD.]
As the portrait picture was the first style of Madonna known to art, so,
also, it is the last. By a leap of nearly a thousand years, we have
returned, in our own day, to the method of the tenth century. It is
strange that what was once a matter of necessity should at last become
an object of choice. In the beginning of Madonna art, the limited
resources of technique precluded any attempts to make a more
elaborate setting. Such difficulties no longer stand in the way, and
where we now see a portrait Madonna, the artist has deliberately
discarded all accessories in order better to idealize his theme.
Take, for instance, the portrait Madonnas by Gabriel Max. Here are no
details to divert the attention from motherhood, pure and simple. We do
not ask of the subject whether she is of high or of low estate, a queen or
a peasant. We have only to look into the earnest, loving face to read
that here is a mother. There are two pictures of this sort, evidently
studied from the same Bohemian models. In one, the mother looks

down at her babe; in the other, directly at the spectator, with a
singularly visionary expression. When weary with the senseless
repetition of the set compositions of past ages, we turn with relief to a
simple portrait mother like this, at once the most primitive and the most
advanced form of Madonna art. It is only another case where the
simplest is the best.
CHAPTER II.
THE MADONNA ENTHRONED.
In every true home the mother is queen, enthroned in the hearts of her
loving children. There is, therefore, a beautiful double significance,
which we should always have in mind, in looking at the Madonna
enthroned. According to the theological conception of the period in
which it was first produced, the picture stands for the Virgin Mother as
Queen of Heaven. Understood typically, it represents the exaltation of
motherhood.
In the history of art development, the enthroned Madonna begins where
the portrait Madonna ends. We may date it from the thirteenth century,
when Cimabue, of Florence, and Guido, of Siena, produced their
famous pictures. Similar types had previously appeared in the mosaic
decorations of churches, but now, for the first time, they were worthily
set forth in panel pictures.
The story of Cimabue's Madonna is one of the oft-told tales we like to
hear repeated. How on a certain day, about 1270, Charles of Anjou was
passing through Florence; how he honored the studio of Cimabue by a
visit; how the Madonna was then first uncovered; how
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