20
49 Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009 In his treatise De pictura of 1435, Leon Battista Alberti not only describes the fundamentals and procedures of painting, but also discusses what a picture is. In the first of his three books, Alberti offers what is perhaps the most widely known definition of the early modern concept of a pic- ture: »First of all, on the surface on which I am going to paint, I draw a rectangle of whatever size I want, which I regard as an open window through which the historia is seen.« 1 Alberti’s rather casual description is generally regarded as the origin of the metaphorical com- parison of the window and picture which has significantly shaped modern thinking about im- ages. As the window comparison influenced the discourse about images over time, the postulated relationship between a window and picture in- creasingly became a matter of fact. Yet what are the characteristics that make a window appear comparable to a picture? And when Alberti spoke of an open window, did he ›picture‹ the same object we imagine when we read his treatise today? Although Alberti’s comparison might seem straightforward at first glance, it actually poses more questions than it answers. His words seem to suggest a new potential of a picture that opens a transparent view of a depicted scene so that the viewer forgets the medium itself and its condi- tions. 2 However, this interpretation of Alberti’s brief description is based on a concept of the window which was certainly not obvious in the quattrocento. Gérard Wajcman and Anne Fried- berg, for example, have pointed out that the forms and types of windows, with which Alberti was familiar in his practical and theoretical study of architecture, were neither transparent nor rec- tangular as described in his treatise De pictura. 3 In the quattrocento, windows were not made of large, transparent glass panes, nor were they generally constructed in a rectangular form. In addition to these historical details, comparing a picture to a window results in a number of other problems. If a picture were regarded as an open window, we would have to clarify its relation- ship to architecture, or more specifically, to a wall on which it hangs or is standing against. What status of reality can the depicted scenes in a picture attain if viewing it is comparable to looking out of a window? Earlier in his treatise, Alberti compares the surface of a picture with the cross-section of a visual pyramid, and then likens this cross-section with a transparent glass surface. Therefore, it * An earlier version of this article was presented at the Fifty-Third Annual Meeting of the Renaissance Society of America on March 24, 2007. I’m grateful to Andreas Beyer, Gerd Blum and Matteo Burioni for helpful sug- gestions. Robert Brambeer provided indispensable help in preparing the English version of this text. 1 Alberti, De pictura I, 19; Cecil Grayson (ed.), Leon Battista Alberti. On Painting and Sculpture. The Latin Texts of De Pictura and De Statua Edited with Trans- lations, Introduction and Notes, London 1972, 55; the translation has been slightly modified. 2 See Klaus Krüger, Das Bild als Schleier des Unsicht- baren. Ästhetische Illusion in der Kunst der frühen Neuzeit in Italien, München 2001, 34; and Lambert Wiesing, Fenster, Fernseher und Windows, in: Lambert Wiesing, Artifizielle Präsenz. Studien zur Philosophie des Bildes, Frankfurt a. M. 2005, 99 – 106. For a funda- mentally different interpretation of Alberti’s window- metaphor see Joseph Masheck, Alberti’s »Window«. Art-Historiographic Note on an Antimodernist Mis- prision, in: Art Journal 50/1, 1991, 35– 41. Alberti’s window-picture comparison should be distinguished from technical devices such as the velo or the perspec- tive window; see James Elkins, The Poetics of Perspec- tive, Ithaca 1994, 46 – 52. 3 Gérard Wajcman, Fenêtre. Chroniques du regard et de l’intime, Lagrasse 2004, 51 – 80; and Anne Friedberg, The Virtual Window. From Alberti to Microsoft, Cam- bridge (Mass.) 2006, 26 – 35. Johannes Grave Reframing the »finestra aperta«. Venetian Variations on the Comparison of Picture and Window*

Johannes Grave Reframing the »finestra aperta«. … · by a large, rectangular central panel painting, a quadrangulum, using Alberti’s term, accompa-nied by a predella, small

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49Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

In his treatise De pictura of 1435, Leon Battista

Alberti not only describes the fundamentals and

procedures of painting, but also discusses what a

picture is. In the first of his three books, Alberti

offers what is perhaps the most widely known

definition of the early modern concept of a pic-

ture: »First of all, on the surface on which I am

going to paint, I draw a rectangle of whatever

size I want, which I regard as an open window

through which the historia is seen.«1

Alberti’s rather casual description is generally

regarded as the origin of the metaphorical com-

parison of the window and picture which has

significantly shaped modern thinking about im-

ages. As the window comparison influenced the

discourse about images over time, the postulated

relationship between a window and picture in-

creasingly became a matter of fact. Yet what are

the characteristics that make a window appear

comparable to a picture? And when Alberti

spoke of an open window, did he ›picture‹ the

same object we imagine when we read his treatise

today?

Although Alberti’s comparison might seem

straightforward at first glance, it actually poses

more questions than it answers. His words seem

to suggest a new potential of a picture that opens

a transparent view of a depicted scene so that the

viewer forgets the medium itself and its condi-

tions.2 However, this interpretation of Alberti’s

brief description is based on a concept of the

window which was certainly not obvious in the

quattrocento. Gérard Wajcman and Anne Fried-

berg, for example, have pointed out that the

forms and types of windows, with which Alberti

was familiar in his practical and theoretical study

of architecture, were neither transparent nor rec-

tangular as described in his treatise De pictura.3

In the quattrocento, windows were not made of

large, transparent glass panes, nor were they

generally constructed in a rectangular form. In

addition to these historical details, comparing a

picture to a window results in a number of other

problems. If a picture were regarded as an open

window, we would have to clarify its relation-

ship to architecture, or more specifically, to a

wall on which it hangs or is standing against.

What status of reality can the depicted scenes in

a picture attain if viewing it is comparable to

looking out of a window?

Earlier in his treatise, Alberti compares the

surface of a picture with the cross-section of a

visual pyramid, and then likens this cross-section

with a transparent glass surface. Therefore, it

* An earlier version of this article was presented at theFifty-Third Annual Meeting of the Renaissance Societyof America on March 24, 2007. I’m grateful to AndreasBeyer, Gerd Blum and Matteo Burioni for helpful sug-gestions. Robert Brambeer provided indispensable helpin preparing the English version of this text.

1 Alberti, De pictura I, 19; Cecil Grayson (ed.), LeonBattista Alberti. On Painting and Sculpture. The LatinTexts of De Pictura and De Statua Edited with Trans-lations, Introduction and Notes, London 1972, 55; thetranslation has been slightly modified.

2 See Klaus Krüger, Das Bild als Schleier des Unsicht-baren. Ästhetische Illusion in der Kunst der frühenNeuzeit in Italien, München 2001, 34; and LambertWiesing, Fenster, Fernseher und Windows, in: Lambert

Wiesing, Artifizielle Präsenz. Studien zur Philosophiedes Bildes, Frankfurt a.M. 2005, 99 –106. For a funda-mentally different interpretation of Alberti’s window-metaphor see Joseph Masheck, Alberti’s »Window«.Art-Historiographic Note on an Antimodernist Mis-prision, in: Art Journal 50/1, 1991, 35– 41. Alberti’swindow-picture comparison should be distinguishedfrom technical devices such as the velo or the perspec-tive window; see James Elkins, The Poetics of Perspec-tive, Ithaca 1994, 46 –52.

3 Gérard Wajcman, Fenêtre. Chroniques du regard et del’intime, Lagrasse 2004, 51–80; and Anne Friedberg,The Virtual Window. From Alberti to Microsoft, Cam-bridge (Mass.) 2006, 26 –35.

Johannes Grave

Reframing the »finestra aperta«. Venetian Variations on the Comparison of Picture and Window*

50

To find answers to these questions, it is im-

perative to assess the viewer’s distance from that

which is portrayed. Alberti’s concept of the win-

dow-picture assumes a certain distance which the

recipient is not supposed to consciously realize.

In order to create the illusion of looking through

a window, the picture has to ensure that it won’t

be touched by the viewer. Although the viewer is

not permitted to cross the distance to the picture

and the image therein, it is a distance that is

perfectly quantifiable. For Alberti, the picture

presents the scene as being potentially reachable,

yet has to protect itself from the realization of

this virtual accessibility. This certainly does not

imply that every picture is an illusionistic rep-

resentation which gives the impression that the

pictorial space and real space merge. The win-

dow–picture comparison, however, suggests that

the structure of the space in front of the picture

and the space portrayed by the picture are based

on the same principles.6 Alberti also postulated

that »both the viewers and the objects in the

painting will seem to be on the same plane«,7

which he stressed as one of the main effects of

the central-perspective construction. In line with

the geometrically constructed perspective as the

basic arrangement of representation, Alberti’s

picture contains no incommensurability, no

spaces or zones that elude a comprehensive

measurability.8 Within this pictorial concept, the

viewer’s distance from the picture is precisely

determined by the perspective construction, the

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

would seem the window metaphor emphasizes

the almost perfect transparency of a picture.4

However, Alberti seems to have overlooked an

important dimension of meaning behind the

window–picture relationship, because a window

is inconceivable without an architectural context,

in particular, without an enclosing wall. There-

fore, the intentional, carefully considered use of

the window-picture concept does not necessarily

imply that the picture is an ideal medium of

transparent representation. Rather, it equally re-

fers to the wall which is assumed by the existence

of the window. The picture could then be viewed

as a two-dimensional, opaque object.5 From the

start, Alberti’s window–picture comparison is

characterized by potential ambiguity which is

not considered in the treatise De pictura itself.

The picture as an open window is a concept

Alberti tied to the new possibilities of represen-

tation using his prescribed central perspective. If

we look at the paintings of the quattrocento, it

appears that the central perspective was mainly

used for pictures with a divine, religious subject.

Many of these pictures depict saints or scenes

of salvific history whose appearance and reality

status were made to be clearly distinguishable

from the viewer’s here and now. Yet how could

Alberti’s window-picture be used to represent

divine or otherworldly subjects? How could one

differentiate the categorically different levels of

reality and various modes of seeing by means of

Alberti’s pictorial concept?

4 Klaus Krüger and Barnaby Nygren have pointed outthat there is a subtle difference between Alberti’s no-tion of the window-image and the metaphor of theplane of glass; see Krüger (as note 2), 29 –34; and Bar-naby Nygren, Fra Angelico’s San Marco Altarpiece andthe Metaphors of Perspective, in: Source 22/1, 2002/03,25–32.

5 Louis Marin has written numerous texts on the rela-tionship between transparency and opacity of pictures;see, e.g., Louis Marin, Mimésis et description, in: LouisMarin, De la représentation, ed. Daniel Arasse et al.,Paris 1994, 251–266; and Louis Marin, De l’entretien,Paris 1997, 59 –73.

6 See, e.g., John Shearman, Only connect… Art and theSpectator in the Italian Renaissance, Princeton 1992, 67.

7 Alberti, De pictura, I, 19; Grayson (ed.), Leon BattistaAlberti (as note 1), 55.

8 This characteristic of perspective has been pointedout by several scholars, e.g., Joel Snyder, PicturingVision, in: Critical Inquiry 6/3, 1980, 499–526; andDaniel Arasse, Perspective régulière: Rupture histo-rique?, in: Jean Galard (ed.), Ruptures. De la discon-tinuité dans la vie artistique, Paris 2002, 58–71.

9 Alberti, De pictura, II, 25; Grayson (as note 1), 61.10 Walter Benjamin, Das Kunstwerk im Zeitalter seiner

technischen Reproduzierbarkeit, in: Walter Benjamin,Gesammelte Schriften, vol. I/2, ed. Rolf Tiedemannand Hermann Schweppenhäuser, Frankfurt a.M.21978, 471–508, esp. 480, n. 7: »[…] einmalige Er-scheinung einer Ferne, so nah sie sein mag […]«.

11 See Alberti, De re aedificatoria, I.12; Leon BattistaAlberti, On the Art of Building in Ten Books, trans.Joseph Rykwert, Neil Leach and Robert Tavernor,Cambridge (Mass.) 1988, 28. – Alberti does not ex-

51

Alberti’s De re aedificatoria, is to provide light

and air,11 the window was a Christian allegorical

figura that could symbolize the threshold to the

absolute Other, to God. Mary for the most part,

but also Christ, were often described as fenestracoeli in hymns and allegorical writings based on

biblical texts, such as the Song of Songs.12 There-

fore, Alberti’s window-picture could be regarded

as a basic challenge to cases in which the picture

was meant to represent the absolute Other and

the window was mainly considered an allegorical

figure.

Giovanni Bellini: The mise en abyme

of the window–picture comparison

Giovanni Bellini’s altarpiece he made for the

church of San Francesco in Pesaro (fig. 1)13 ap-

pears to have several aspects in common with

Alberti’s considerations. The altar is dominated

by a large, rectangular central panel painting, a

quadrangulum, using Alberti’s term, accompa-

nied by a predella, small panels on the pilasters

and, probably, a mounted picture on top.14 Clas-

sical architectural forms do not only play a

prominent role in the structure of the altarpiece,

but also in the central painting itself. The ground

with its rich, varied pattern allows the viewer to

fathom the central perspective and provides the

pictorial space a measurable depth. The lavish

throne, also characterized by classical architec-

ture, dominates the picture. The artist also in-

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

result being that the portrayed scenes appear to

be reachable, graspable or really happening.

But what if it is inappropriate to create this

accessibility and reachability to the portrayed

scene? Is Alberti’s pictorial concept applicable to

other subjects that are (as a matter of principle)

inaccessible to the viewer and are not based on

the usual logic of space and time? In other

words, how can insurmountable distances be

represented which have no corresponding mea-

surable length? Although Alberti praises painting

for being able to »make the absent present« and

allowing even to represent »the dead to the living

many centuries later«,9 surmounting one’s bonds

to the here and now says nothing about how one

can reflect on the distinction between the world-

ly and otherworldly in a picture. While Alberti

emphasizes the effect of ›presence‹ in images,

there are a large number of Christian subjects

whose depictions are clearly inaccessible. In a

religious context, an image is characterized –

using Walter Benjamin’s words – by a »unique

appearance of distance regardless of how close it

may be.«10 Alberti’s concept strengthens the

accessibility to the picture as it lets the viewer

forget its medial conditions, the connection to

the material, the surface, to a wall or table. His

window–picture comparison not only stands at

odds with the concept of the cultic image, but

also competes with the established notions of the

window. In addition to the architectural concept

of a window, the function of which, according to

plicitly mention that windows could serve to offeroutside views. Only a few paragraphs of De re aedifi-catoria (e.g., V. 17) are dealing with specific architec-tural arrangements for the prospectus; see GerdBlum, Fenestra prospectiva. Das Fenster als symboli-sche Form bei Leon Battista Alberti und im Herzogs-palast von Urbino, in: Joachim Poeschke and CandidaSyndikus (eds.), Leon Battista Alberti. Humanist,Architekt, Kunsttheoretiker, Münster 2008, 77–122.

12 See Carla Gottlieb, The Window in Art. From theWindow of God to the Vanity of Man. A Survey ofWindow Symbolism in Western Painting, New York1981, esp. 69 –82; Sixten Ringbom, Icon to Narrative.The Rise of Dramatic Close-Up in Fifteenth CenturyDevotional Painting, Doornspijk 21984, 42– 43.

13 There is no written documentation verifying the dateof Bellini’s Pala di Pesaro. Most likely, Bellini worked

on the altarpiece around 1475; see Carolyn CampbellWilson, Bellini’s Pesaro Altarpiece. A Study in Con-text and Meaning, Ann Arbor 1977, 490 – 492; RonaGoffen, Giovanni Bellini, New Haven 1989, 122; andMaria Rosaria Valazzi, Giovanni Bellini e la pala diPesaro, in: Valter Curzi (ed.), Pittura veneta nelleMarche, Cinisello Balsamo 2000, 101–115, esp. 112–114; Oskar Bätschmann, Giovanni Bellini, London2008, 150.

14 It is still a matter of discussion whether the Pietà ofthe Pinacoteca Vaticana should be regarded as part ofthe Pala di Pesaro; see Wilson (as note 13), 279 –292,348–353, 413– 421; Maria Rosaria Valazzi (ed.), Lapala ricostituita. L’incoronazione della Vergine e lacimasa vaticana di Giovanni Bellini. Indagini erestauri, Venezia 1988; Valazzi (as note 13), 106.

52

question what seems to be a clear hierarchical

arrangement consisting of a dominant altarpiece

architecture, panel paintings and individual levels

within the middle panel. In its similarity to the

frame of the altar painting, the back of the throne

functions like a mise en abyme within the pic-

ture. A characteristic feature of the entire paint-

ing, the frame, appears as a part of the represent-

ed scene. Thus, the hierarchy between the entire

representation and represented parts, which

should be established by means of the frame, is

subverted. The effect of the mise en abyme,

therefore, inevitably disrupts the stringency and

economy of the representation.17

Bellini’s inclusion of the back of the throne

does not only establish a mise en abyme. The

structural analogy between the back of the

throne and the altarpiece gives us reason to con-

clude that the reality status of the fortress framed

by the throne is comparable to the reality status

of the painting on the whole. Yet, in what way is

the viewer shown the fortress? Scholars have

suggested several possible ways to interpret its

appearance.18 The idea that it could be a reflec-

tion in a mirror was rejected because Christ and

Mary are not reflected in it. Most of the inter-

pretations suggest that the back of the throne is

an opening in a stone frame. Of course, many

have considered the possibility that there is a pic-

ture in the middle of the throne. Even at closer

inspection, there seems to be no conclusive

answer to this question. The mountains sur-

rounding the fortress are also hinted at outside

the frame which would suggest there is, in fact,

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

cluded a view of a fortress in the background.

Despite how well-constructed the pictorial space

is and how realistically portrayed the figures are,

the viewer cannot help noticing certain pictorial

elements, e.g., the Holy Spirit in the form of a

dove and the heads of the cherubim in the

clouds, which weaken the reality status of the

picture. The central motif of the picture, Mary’s

coronation and the company of saints with

whom she has formed a sacra conversazione, is

clearly a reference to a heavenly occurrence. The

question the viewer is confronted with is, in

what way was Bellini able to depict this event

with pictorial techniques as described in Alberti’s

treatise? Art historians who have studied Bel-

lini’s Pesaro Altarpiece are familiar with the

problems that arise from this form of represen-

tation. Norbert Huse, for instance, noted that

Bellini »moved the coronation from heaven to

earth«.15 Only the fact that the picture’s archi-

tecture is »unlike any real building« prevents

»profanation«.16

A key to understanding the picture lies in the

conspicous design of the throne. Despite all the

slight deviations in detail, the back of the throne

unmistakably mirrors the structure of the altar-

piece, so that any interpretation of the throne

corresponds to that of the entire pala. However,

the fact that just one element of the picture

resembles the picture in its entirety creates a

problem for the receptive process. The frame-

like design of the back of the throne with the

fortress in its center is not merely a reflexive

reference to the picture itself, but also calls into

15 Norbert Huse, Studien zu Giovanni Bellini, Berlin1972, 29.

16 Huse (as note 15), 29 –30, see also Deborah Howard,Bellini and Architecture, in: Peter Humfrey (ed.), TheCambridge Companion to Giovanni Bellini, Cam-bridge 2004, 143–166, esp. 149.

17 For definitions and analyses of the mise en abyme,see, e.g., Lucien Dällenbach, Le récit spéculaire. Con-tribution a l’étude de la mise en abyme, Paris 1977;Lucien Dällenbach, Reflexivity and Reading, in: NewLiterary History 11/3, 1980, 435– 449; Mieke Bal,Mise en abyme et iconicité, in: Litterature. Revue tri-mestrielle 29, 1978, 116 –128; and Moshe Ron, TheRestricted Abyss. Nine Problems in the Theory of

Mise en Abyme, in: Poetics today 8/2, 1987, 417– 438.An alternative definition was recently proposed byPaisley Livingston, Nested Art, in: The Journal ofAesthetics and Art Criticism 61/3, 2003, 233–245, esp.240.

18 See Giles Robertson, Giovanni Bellini, Oxford 1968,70; Wilson (as note 13), 161–164; Gottlieb (asnote 12), 77–78; Goffen (as note 13), 133; and Clau-dia Cieri Via, A proposito della pala di Giovanni Bel-lini a Pesaro. Considerazioni sulla simbologia delquadro d’altare, in: Antonio Cadei et al. (eds.), Arted’Occidente. Temi e metodi. Studi in onore di AngiolaMaria Romanini, 3 vols., Rome 1999, here vol. 3,1031–1041, esp. 1036.

53Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

1. Giovanni Bellini, Coronation of the Virgin (Pala di Pesaro), oil and tempera on wood,c. 1475, 262 × 240 cm (central panel). Pesaro, Museo Civico

54

torians have identified (though not completely

convincingly) as the Gradara Fortress near Pe-

saro.22 The viewers are confronted with the ques-

tion of whether they are looking at a real fortress

through an opening or merely looking at a pic-

ture of one. More importantly, the beholder

questions the reality status of the entire picture

because of the throne’s function as the mise enabyme of the picture. If the architectural framing

and the central perspective of the pictorial space

initially suggest that the altar painting is com-

pletely comparable to a window and the depicted

scenery adheres to the spatial logic with which

we are familiar, then the analogy between the

back of the throne and the entire altarpiece

would call this impression into question. The

large panel painting would then no longer appear

only as an open window in Alberti’s sense. Be-

cause of the uncertain status of the depicted for-

tress, our view of the entire altar painting alter-

nates between a transparent window and opaque

painted surface. Through his unique design of

the throne, Bellini combines two aesthetic strate-

gies – the mise en abyme with its reflexive ref-

erence to the entire painting and the oscillation

between the window view and picture. In this

way, the viewer discovers that the suggested win-

dow view is actually the result of a two-dimen-

sional opaque picture, while at the same time,

recognizes that the depiction does not comply

with the familiar logic of the here and now.

The other panels of the altarpiece also demon-

strate similar forms of oscillation between optical

illusions and two-dimensional painting. Especial-

ly the eight smaller pictures on the pilasters have

an illusory effect in that they are all subjected to

the same lighting and perspective. Some of the

saints’ attributes even go beyond the borders of

the niches, creating what appears to be a continu-

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

a window-like opening in the back of the throne.

It is strange, however, that the fortress is very

calculated, yes, almost picture-perfectly situated

within the frame and that the unusual, thin-

streaked clouds in the sky do not continue out-

side it. If we conclude from these observations

that we can suddenly perceive as a picture what

previously seemed to be a window, the lack of

depth of the innermost frame strengthens this

impression. Such a combination of furniture and

picture may remind the viewer of spalliera paint-

ings which were designed as integral parts of a

lettuccio or cassone.19 In this case, however, we

notice that the backrest is lacking the supporting

wall against which it usually leans. Where we

might expect a wall, we actually see the con-

tinuing silhouette of the mountains. In the end,

the viewer has to accept the fact that there is no

irrefutable interpretation regarding the appear-

ance of the fortress – be it a window or picture.

Bellini obviously wanted to achieve this ambig-

uous visual effect. Eugenio Battisti and Deborah

Howard were right to emphasize that Bellini

consciously utilized the ambiguity of the win-

dow and picture to produce a feeling of uncer-

tainty in the viewer.20 And even as long ago as

1899, Roger Fry pointed out that the effect Belli-

ni produced is reminiscent of perplexing mirror

effects that astonish the beholder: »For here the

landscape has by virtue of the carved frame

which encloses it, something of the unfamiliarity

and impressiveness of a landscape seen unexpec-

tedly in a mirror.«21

But what could be the purpose of such con-

fusion in a picture which otherwise appears so

perfectly constructed and well arranged? The

resulting oscillation between these poles when

viewing the picture not only affects the inter-

pretation of the fortress, which various art his-

19 See Anne B. Barriault, Spalliera Paintings of Renais-sance Tuscany. Fables of Poets for Patrician Houses,University Park (Pa.) 1994; and Maddalena TrionfiHonorati, A proposito del ›lettuccio‹, in: Antichitàviva 20/3, 1980, 39 – 47.

20 See Eugenio Battisti, Ricostruendo la complessità, in:Valazzi (as note 14), 6 –14, esp. 8; Howard (asnote 16), 150; and Blum (as note 11), 114–117. Blum

shows that the design of the frame gives further evi-dence of the ambiguity between picture and window.The large rectangular frame not only corresponds toAlberti’s concept of the picture, but also shows strik-ing parallels to window frames of the Palazzo Ducalein Urbino (giardino pensile) and of the Palazzo Sforza(Palazzo Prefettizio) in Pesaro.

55Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

um between the pictorial space and the space of

the viewer (fig. 2). The fact that the portrayed

figures significantly differ in size compared to

those in the main panel, and that the pictures are

applied to two pilasters reveal that they are two-

dimensional paintings. Both in the main panel

and the altarpiece’s entire arrangement, Bellini

worked hard to create effects of ›presence‹ while

at the same time, attempted to counteract the

effect of forced pictorial transparency in key

positions in the picture. What is especially signif-

icant, however, is that he does not permanently

destroy the illusory effect with any single act of

disillusionment. The parts of the picture which

could appear two-dimensional and opaque, as

the example of the back of the throne demon-

strates, can also be related to the logic of the pic-

torial illusion.

The closer analysis of the Pala di Pesaro shows

that Bellini’s work is not completely consistent

with Alberti’s window-picture concept. None-

theless, the placement of the fortress in the back

of the throne inevitably calls to mind Alberti’s

description of the picture as an open window. It

is practically impossible to verify whether Gio-

vanni Bellini was familiar with Alberti’s De pic-tura. Yet it is probable Bellini had heard about

Alberti’s treatise, as there is evidence that his

father Jacopo and brother-in-law Andrea Man-

tegna were familiar with Alberti’s ideas, and,

perhaps, were even acquainted with him per-

sonally.

Jacopo Bellini’s two sketchbooks, located in

Paris and London today, contain drawings with

several characteristics that have led scholars to

believe they may have been influenced by Alber-

ti’s treatise. Despite minor deviations in detail,

one can recognize Alberti’s major concepts in the

almost demonstrative (though not always accu-

rate) perspective construction of the pictorial

space, in the conspicuous variation of the figures’

21 Roger E. Fry, Giovanni Bellini, New York 1995(reprint of the 1st edn London 1899), 36.

22 The ongoing discussion on the identification of thefortress is summarized by Wilson (as note 13),

161–209; Patrizia Castelli, »Imago potestatis«. Poterecivile e religioso nella Pala Pesarese del Giambellino,in: Valazzi (as note 14), 15–28, esp. 18; and AnchiseTempestini, Giovanni Bellini, Milan 2000, 63.

2. Giovanni Bellini, St. Catherine(part of the Pala di Pesaro), oil and tempera on wood,

c. 1475, 61 × 25 cm. Pesaro, Museo Civico

56

Alberti himself had maintained close contacts

with the Este court around 1440.24 Furthermore,

there is scattered evidence indicating the Ferra-

rese were familiar with his painting treatise.25

It is difficult to determine how well Jacopo

Bellini remembered Alberti’s concept of the pic-

ture as an open window and to what extent he

made it a theme of his own reflections. The refer-

ence to this concept in Filarete’s architectural

treatise (book XXIII) is evidence, however, that

Alberti’s window–picture comparison was taken

up by some of his contemporaries.26 Perhaps the

window–picture analogy had already become

widely established. Yet if this were truly the case,

it would not have been necessary to study Alber-

ti’s treatise in order to become acquainted with

this comparison.

The claim that Jacopo Bellini was somehow

familiar with considerations regarding the win-

dow-picture is supported by several significant

features in his sketchbooks, in particular his

marked interest in depicting views through and

out of openings and his examination of the

frame-picture relationship. He worked on pic-

torial elements which had to be of crucial impor-

tance if he was indeed trying to bring the con-

cepts of the picture and window closer together

or separate them from one another. For instance,

in a drawing depicting the Lamentation of Christ(fig. 3), he experiments with the receptive-aes-

thetic effect of a classically framed, rectangular

panel.27 Jacopo Bellini also experimented with

window-like effects in several drawings, empha-

sizing background occurrences by framing them

with an arched structure in the foreground. This

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

facial expressions, gestures and postures, and in

experiments with various forms of pictorial nar-

ration.23 In 1441, Jacopo Bellini resided in Fer-

rara to participate in an artists’ competition with

Pisanello. There, Giovanni Bellini’s father could

have heard about Alberti’s painting treatise as

23 See Samuel Y. Edgerton, Alberti’s Perspective: A NewDiscovery and a New Evaluation, in: Art Bulletin48/3, 1966, 367–378, esp. 375–377; Christiane L.Joost-Gaugier, The Tuscanization of Jacopo Bellini.Part II: The Relation of Jacopo Bellini to Problems ofthe 1430’s and 1440’s, in: Acta Historiae Artium 23/3,1977, 291–313, esp. 294 –301; Colin Eisler, The Gen-ius of Jacopo Bellini. The Complete Paintings andDrawings, New York 1989, esp. 87 and 443– 448. Formore on Jacopo Bellini’s application of perspective,see Bernhard Degenhart and Annegrit Schmitt, Cor-pus der italienischen Zeichnungen 1300 –1450,vol. II/5: Jacopo Bellini. Text, Berlin 1990, 59 – 94.

24 See Eisler (as note 23), 197. – Some years before, in1437, Alberti stayed for a short time in Venice. Butthere is no documentary evidence that he becameacquainted with Venetian painters; see, e.g., GirolamoMancini, Vita di Leon Battista Alberti, Florence21911, 139 –141; Luca Boschetto, Leon Battista Alber-ti e Firenze. Biografia, storia, letteratura, Florence2000, 114; and Lucia Bertolini, Leon Battista Alberti,in: Nuova informazione bibliografica 1/2, 2004, 245–287, esp. 254.

25 There are traces of a reception of De pictura in Depolitia litteraria by the Ferrarese humanist AngeloDecembrio, see Michael Baxandall, A Dialogue on

3. Jacopo Bellini, Lamentation of Christ, silverpoint, brown ink, c. 1455, 42,5 × 28,8 cm.

Paris, Musée du Louvre

57

andall, Hans Belting, Keith Christiansen and

Jack M. Greenstein, regard Mantegna as a painter

who ideally fits Alberti’s image of the artist,30

Leo Steinberg has shown that, in some cases,

Mantegna’s adaptation of Alberti’s principles

could actually have a critical character. For exam-

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

technique is particularly evident on a sheet de-

picting the Sermon of John the Baptist (fig. 4).28

It is obvious Bellini consciously used the arch

motif in this drawing to create ambiguity. The

function of the arch oscillates between the archi-

tecture within the picture and that of the frame

of the sketched scene. This ambiguity is also due

to the fact that the very first level of the picture,

i.e., the surface of the drawing, and the front side

of the arch are merged into one. Furthermore,

the lavishly decorated and detailed archway

resembles more of a portal rather than a free-

standing triumphal arch in a city. At the very

bottom of the foreground, Bellini himself hints

at a threshold of checkered stonework which the

viewer would hardly expect in an urban environ-

ment. Rather, the threshold gives the impression

of being part of a frame. Since the artistic exe-

cution of this drawing reveals no recognizable

differences in material nor differentiation be-

tween the sketched depiction and the three-

dimensional elements, it remains unclear whether

the arch represents an architectural feature with-

in the picture or is itself the frame for the image

within. Drawings like this indicate that Jacopo

Bellini critical examined the concept of the win-

dow–picture comparison in his sketchbooks to

some extent.29 Given the ambivalence of the arch

motif, there is no way to completely clarify the

relationship between the viewer’s space, the pic-

ture-frame and the image.

Andrea Mantegna appears to have been even

more influenced by the basic concepts in Alber-

ti’s painting treatise than Jacopo Bellini. While a

large group of scholars, including Michael Bax-

Art from the Court of Leonello d’Este. AngeloDecembrio’s De politia Litteraria Pars LXVIII, in:Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes26/3, 1963, 304 –326. A manuscript of the treatise,stored at the Biblioteca Classense in Ravenna, con-tains marginal notes by Lodovico Carbone and Bat-tista Panetti, both prominent members of the d’Estecircle in Ferrara. See Edgerton (as note 23); and KatjaConradi, Malerei am Hofe der Este. Cosme Tura,Francesco del Cossa, Ercole de’ Roberti, Hildesheim1997, 116. For more on Alberti’s connections withFerrara, see also Anthony Grafton, Leon Battista Al-berti. Master Builder of the Italian Renaissance, New

York 2000, 189 –224; Franco and Stefano Borsi, Al-berti. Une biographie intellectuelle, trans. Katia Bien-venu, Paris 2006, 83– 91.

26 Anna Maria Finoli and Liliana Grassi (eds.), AntonioAverlino. Trattato di architettura, 2 vols., Milan 1972,here vol. 2, 650 – 651.

27 Eisler (as note 23), 352–353; Bernhard Degenhart andAnnegrit Schmitt, Corpus der italienischen Zeichnun-gen 1300 –1450, vol. II/6: Jacopo Bellini. Katalog,Berlin 1990, 303–310.

28 Eisler (as note 23), 403 and 414; Degenhart/Schmitt(as note 27), 315–316.

29 See Joost-Gaugier (as note 23), 299.

4. Jacopo Bellini, Saint John the Baptist Preaching,brown ink, c. 1440, 42,5 × 28,8 cm.

Paris, Musée du Louvre

58 Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

5. Andrea Mantegna, Saint James led to Martyrdom, fresco, c. 1454 –5. Formerly: Padua, Chiesa degli Eremitani, Ovetari Chapel

59

a practically inconclusive process of reception in

motion. At the same time, this strategy calls into

question the measurable, depicted distance sepa-

rating the viewer from the painted image.

Giovanni Bellini must have believed this re-

ceptive-aesthetic subversion of the window–pic-

ture comparison was essential for the subject of

his picture. Although the setting of Mary’s coro-

nation may seem earth-bound and worldly, Belli-

ni must have felt it necessary to portray the fun-

damentally different reality status. This divine

event, which is presented from what seems to be

the objective perspective of a knowledgeable

observer, turns out at closer inspection to be far

from perfectly understandable. The central image

of the fortress – at one moment, a view through

a window, at the next, a picture within a picture

– is deprived of an unambiguous visibility. The

result is a moment of confusion, which the oper-

ation of the mise en abyme transfers to the entire

picture. What appears completely transparent at

first is blurred by this indistinguishability. The

oscillation between the picture and window

opening caused by the fortress inevitably in-

fluences the interpretation of the entire middle

panel because of the structural parallels between

the back of the throne and the altarpiece con-

struction. Obviously, what the viewer sees is not

presented in the same way one would look out of

a window. This creates a break in logic between

the coronation of Mary and the viewer’s here and

now.

In this sense, the ambivalent appearance of the

back of the throne – oscillating between a picture

and a window – points to a common allegory of

Mary. As the verse in the gospel of St. Luke

»Intravit Jesus in quoddam castellum«32 was

associated with the Virgin and with God’s in-

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

ple, in his fresco in the Mantuan Ovetari Chapel

depicting St. Jacob on his way to his execution

(fig. 5), Mantegna painted several depth contours

on the magnificent triumphal arch that are so

perfectly vertical they give no impression of pic-

torial depth. As these contours run parallel to the

outside borders of the picture, they actually

emphasize its two-dimensionality.31 If Mantegna

had known about Alberti’s treatise this early in

his artistic career, this would mean he had fol-

lowed Alberti’s recommendations concerning the

use of central perspective in order to create an

effect that contradicted Alberti’s intention.

Although there are no remaining records of

the reception of Alberti’s painting treatise in

Venice, it is likely that Giovanni Bellini had

become acquainted with its basic ideas through

his father Jacopo, or at the latest, through An-

drea Mantegna. Moreover, a discussion of the

window–picture comparison did not necessarily

depend on the reception of Alberti’s treatise. Ei-

ther Jacopo Bellini or Mantegna could have

sparked a critical debate about the concept of the

image that was implied by the analogy between

the picture and window. In particular, Jacopo

Bellini’s sketches indicate that his reflections on

the window–picture comparison led him in a

new direction continued by his son Giovanni

Bellini in the Pesaro Altarpiece. In the same way

Jacopo Bellini used the window–picture parallel

to create ambiguity with the arch motif in his

sketch of the sermon of John the Baptist, Gio-

vanni Bellini consciously created an ambiguous

vacillation between window opening and picture

in the middle panel of the Pesaro Altarpiece. In

both cases, the model of representation that

Alberti suggested to help clarify the relationship

between the viewer and the picture is used to set

30 See Michael Baxandall, Giotto and the Orators. Hu-manist Observers of Painting in Italy and the Discov-ery of Pictorial Composition, Oxford 1971, 133–134;Hans Belting, Giovanni Bellini. Pietà. Ikone undBilderzählung in der venezianischen Malerei, Frank-furt a.M. 1985, 36 – 48; Jack M. Greenstein, Mantegnaand Painting as Historical Narrative, Chicago 1992,85; and Keith Christiansen, Rapporti presunti, proba-

bili e (forse anche) effettivi fra Alberti e Mantegna, in:Joseph Rykwert and Anke Engel (eds), Leon BattistaAlberti, Milan 1994, 336 –357.

31 See Leo Steinberg, Leon Battista Alberti e AndreaMantegna, in: Rykwert/Engel (as note 30), 330 –335,esp. 334 –335.

32 Lk 10, 38.

60

that resembles Jacopo Bellini’s drawing of the

sermon of John the Baptist. The architectural

arrangements depicted within Bellini’s large

Venetian altarpiece paintings, including the Pala

di San Zaccaria completed about the same time,

almost exactly correspond to the forms of the

sculptural frame, suggesting a practically unin-

terrupted continuum between the painting, the

frame and the viewer’s space.35 Cima da Cone-

gliano built on a large range of architectural

motifs which Giovanni Bellini had previously

developed in several variations,36 yet he changed

the foreground–background relationship in an

important way. Although one can only see a

small portion of the landscape in the background

– blocked by the three figures in the foreground

–, the architectural opening with its broad view

of the sky takes on an unusual degree of signifi-

cance. At first glance, it seems Jesus, Thomas and

St. Magnus are standing in a loggia with a view to

the outside. However, there are several details

here that lead the viewer to doubt that the struc-

ture is a normal loggia. Barely visible at the mar-

gins, there are narrow strips of marble next to

the pillars topped by the Corinthian capitals,

indicating a continuing wall that encloses the

room in the foreground. Therefore, this is appar-

ently not a traditional arcade with several open-

ings to the outside – a fact that makes the back-

ground view behind the three figures somewhat

doubtful. On closer examination, one can notice

that the flagstone floor in the foreground,

though extremely flush, is not closed off at the

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

carnation, Mary has often been represented as

impregnable fortress.33 Especially the Franciscan

order appreciated this allegorical analogy because

it served to propagate the immaculate conception

of Mary. Obviously Bellini’s painting not merely

refers to this widespread allegory in a rather sim-

ple conventional manner. The ambiguous repre-

sentation of the fortress distinguishes the build-

ing from the viewer’s space and, in this way,

accentuates its impregnability. As we have seen,

the ambiguity of the representation is not limited

to the appearance of the fortress at the back of

the throne, but also affects the entire pictorial

representation. Therefore, the viewer is prompt-

ed to conclude that both the fortress as an alleg-

ory of the Virgin and the Coronation of Mary

are present, but inaccessible to him.

Cima da Conegliano: »Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed!«

Giovanni Bellini’s Pesaro Altarpiece was not the

only work of quattrocento Venetian art to use

interchangeable window–picture backgrounds.

Two paintings by Giovanni Battista Cima da

Conegliano and Bartolomeo Montagna demon-

strate that certain problematic subjects required

reflection on the status of the image. In his de-

piction of Doubting Thomas (fig. 6), completed

around 1505 for the chapel of the Venetian Scuo-la dei Muratori,34 Cima da Conegliano adopted

the basic structure of Giovanni Bellini’s classical

sacre conversazioni in order to modify it in a way

33 See Wilson (as note 13), 192–200; and Bätschmann (asnote 13), 156. Evidence for the wide diffusion of thecomparison between Mary and the impregnable for-tress is given by Anselm Salzer, Die Sinnbilder undBeiworte Mariens in der deutschen Literatur und la-teinischen Hymnenposie des Mittelalters, Darmstadt1967, 12 and 284 –291. Salzer not only cites hymnsbut also refers to theological literature. See, for exam-ple, the chapter De assumptione Sanctae Mariae inHonorius Augustodunensis, Speculum ecclesiae; Jac-ques-Paul Migne (ed.), Patrologia cursus completus …series latina, 221 vols., Paris 1844 – 65, here vol. 172,col. 991– 994.

34 See Luigi Coletti, Cima da Conegliano, Venice 1959,53 and 85; Luigi Menegazzi, Cima da Conegliano,

Treviso 1981, 44 and 118–119; and Peter Humfrey,Cima da Conegliano, Cambridge 1983, 41– 42 and151–152.

35 See, e.g., Peter Humfrey, The Altarpiece in Renais-sance Venice, New Haven 1993, 146 –147; and Shear-man (as note 6), 97– 98.

36 See Humfrey (as note 35). In his recent article onGiorgione’s Pala di Castelfranco, Salvatore Settis pre-sented an impressive overview of the wealth of varia-tion in architectural inventions in the Venetian sacreconversazioni around 1500; see Salvatore Settis, Gior-gione in Sicilia. Sulla data e la compositione della Paladi Castelfranco, in: Giovanna Nepi Scirè and SandraRossi (eds.), Giorgione. »Le maraviglie dell’arte«,Venice 2003, 33– 63.

61Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

6. Giovanni Battista Cima da Conegliano, The Incredulity of Thomas with St. Magnus, oil on panel, c. 1504 –5, 215 × 151 cm. Venice, Gallerie dell’Accademia

62

intrados of the arch seems conspicuously narrow.

Furthermore, the strong light and shadows in the

foreground do not appear to correspond to the

landscape lighting. If we disregard the fact that

two arches extend over the pilasters toward us,

then the architecture is reminiscent of the stone

or wooden frames of the large Venetian pale.

This analogy also supports the theory that the

area behind the arch can be regarded as a picture.

Like Bellini’s Pesaro Altarpiece, Cima da Cone-

gliano’s depiction of doubting Thomas confronts

the viewer with the dilemma of deciding whether

the pictorial background is a view through an ar-

chitectural opening or a picture within a picture.

We can guess how well Cima da Conegliano

considered this solution if we take a look at the

London picture which depicts the same subject

and was most likely completed shortly before-

hand (fig. 7).37 For the first version, he drafted a

clearly constructed space, in which the scene

takes place according to the biblical story. In

contrast to his later Venetian version, his first

draft features all eleven apostles in what is clearly

a secluded, closed room – despite the conspic-

uous window openings. In the second version of

this subject, Cima da Conegliano moves away

from the biblical source with which he was well

acquainted. Not only are ten apostles missing,

but the addition of St. Magnus breaks the nar-

rative stringency of the depiction. More impor-

tantly, the viewer no longer sees the closed room

into which the frightened apostles retreated, but

rather an architecture that seems to open up to a

landscape. Comparing the two works, there is no

doubt that the use of the arch motif was a con-

scious deviation from the central element of tra-

ditional iconography. Cima da Conegliano pur-

posely chose this strategy to create the effect of

uncertainty in the beholder as described above.

As in Bellini’s Pesaro Altarpiece, the reality

status of the entire picture begins to vacillate if

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

back by a recognizable threshold. Consequently,

there is no transition between the architecturally

designed room and the landscape; there are nei-

ther stones nor pebbles nor overhanging plants

which indicate that nature begins where the flag-

stone floor ends. Though clearly marked, the

missing architectural transition between the flag-

stones and the landscape should make us ques-

tion whether the opening behind the figures

truly reveals a view to the outside, or whether

the scene is actually taking place in front of a

landscape depiction. If we examine the architec-

tural supports more closely, we notice they do

not appear to be fully three-dimensional pillars,

but rather decorative pilasters, and the shaded

37 See Coletti (as note 34), 85; Menegazzi (as note 34),117–118; Humfrey (as note 34), 110 –111; Glenn W.Most, Doubting Thomas, Cambridge (Mass.) 2005,180 –187.

38 See David Rosand, Painting in Cinquecento Venice.

Titian, Veronese, Tintoretto, New Haven 1982, 35; forfundamental considerations about the »second-orderobserver«, see Niklas Luhmann, Die Kunst derGesellschaft, Frankfurt a.M. 1997, 92–164.

39 »Beati, qui non viderunt et crediderunt!« (Jn 20,29).

7. Giovanni Battista Cima da Conegliano, The Incredulity of Thomas, oil on panel, 1502– 4,

294 × 200 cm. London, National Gallery

63

ture comparison is critically examined on three

separate levels: By focusing on the exchange of

looks and on Thomas touching Christ’s wound,

Cima calls to mind the biblical story and the

blessing of those who have not seen, yet believe.

In addition to this direct reference to sight in the

bible verse, the artist also reflects on the concept

of seeing at the pictorial level by including

St. Magnus in the role of a second-order observer.

The uncertainty the viewer feels when looking at

the picture – caused by the vague status of the

landscape in the background – is the third and

performative level of this critical examination of

sight. Cima counters the desire to use all of one’s

senses to verify one’s faith with contemplative

observation, represented by St. Magnus.

Cima’s response to the challenge of critically

examining the act of viewing was taken up by

Marco Basaiti a short time later (c. 1516).40 In his

altarpiece for the church of San Giobbe (fig. 8),

not far from Giovanni Bellini’s famous Pala di

S. Giobbe, Basaiti places the four saints in the

foreground (St. Louis of Toulouse, St. Francis,

St. Dominic and St. Mark) against a background

depicting Christ praying in the garden – an

arrangement similar to that of Cima’s painting.

Again, the transition between the foreground

architecture and the background landscape is

depicted in such a way that it is impossible to

ascertain whether one is looking through an

architectural opening at the scene on the Mount

of Olives, or at a picture within a picture.41

Bartolomeo Montagna: Touching Christ without bodily contact

Bartolomeo Montagna was confronted with a

similar challenge – probably in the 1490s – when

he was working on an altar painting that de-

picted the resurrected Christ with Mary Magda-

lene (fig. 9).42 Even more so than the depiction of

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

the viewer ascertains that the landscape in the

background can be a view through an architec-

tural opening as well as a picture. The viewers

will either regard the entire painting as a contin-

uation of the real space, or as an opaque, painted

surface depending on whether they see the back-

ground as a view or picture.

Cima da Conegliano did not only attempt to

make the receptive process more complex. He

also reflected on various degrees and qualities of

perception in the interaction of the pictorial fig-

ures. Thomas’ gesture of placing his finger into

Christ’s wound is combined with the act of look-

ing, evident in their intensive and mutual gaze.

The emphasized immediacy of this look is con-

trasted by St. Magnus’ rather contemplative pose

as he watches this personal moment. To a certain

extent, he takes on the role of a second-order

observer. As he watches Christ and Thomas

looking at each other, his own gaze gains a re-

flexive capacity.38 Not only does St. Magnus

witness the exchange of looks, but he also hears

Christ’s words at the moment Thomas touches

his wound: »Blessed are those who have not seen

and yet have believed!«39

Perhaps while working on his first London

version of Doubting Thomas, Cima da Coneglia-

no noticed the problems which arise when por-

traying Christ’s words through the medium of an

altarpiece. Because the portrayals of this scene

inevitably evoked this bible verse in the minds of

contemporary viewers, they called into question

the relationship between the viewer and the altar-

piece itself. The viewer was confronted with the

question whether he or she would be able to

believe without having seen. Cima da Coneglia-

no’s picture highlights this biblical criticism of

falsely trusting one’s sense of vision as the oscil-

lating background instills a feeling of uncertainty

in the viewer. The problematic suggestion of po-

tential accessibility inherent in the window–pic-

40 See Bernard Bonario, Marco Basaiti. A Study of theVenetian Painter and a Catalogue of his Works, AnnArbor 1974, 38–39 and 116 –119; and Rosand (asnote 38), 34 –38.

41 The fact that Basaiti, like Cima, incorporates a critical

attitude toward seeing in his picture could have beenprompted by the biblical text. In the Gospel accord-ing to St. Matthew, the failure of the three apostles,who are overpowered by sleep, is explained by their»heavy eyes« (»oculi gravati«, Mt 26,43).

64 Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

8. Marco Basaiti, The Agony in the Garden, oil on panel, c. 1516, 371 × 224 cm. Venice, Gallerie dell’Accademia

65

to touch.43 When Mary Magdalene encounters

Christ at the tomb, her eyes are deceived for she

doesn’t immediately recognize him as Christ, but

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

Doubting Thomas, this Noli me tangere scene,

named after Christ’s words, examines the decep-

tive nature of sight and the problematic desire

42 See Lionello Puppi, Bartolomeo Montagna, Venice1962, 50 and 98; Kai-Uwe Nielsen, Bartolomeo Mon-tagna und die venezianische Malerei des spätenQuattrocento, München 1995, 110 –112. – The exactdate of the painting is unknown, but the suggestionsrange from 1484 to the beginning of the sixteenthcentury. Nielsen compares the integration of the bib-lical scene into the painting to Bellini’s Pesaro Altar-piece as a »picture within a picture« (111), without

drawing any conclusions about the interpretation ofthe picture.

43 See Mary Pardo, The Subject of Savoldo’s Magdalene,in: Art Bulletin 71/1, 1989, 67– 91; Krüger (as note 2),104 –106; Daniel Arasse, L’excès des images, in: Ma-rianne Alphant, Guy Lafon and Daniel Arasse, L’Ap-parition à Marie-Madeleine. Noli me tangere, Paris2001, 79 –126; Jean-Luc Nancy, Noli me tangere.Essay sur la levée du corps, Paris 2003; Barbara Baert,

9. Bartolomeo Montagna, Noli me tangere, oil on panel, c. 1490 –1500, 160 × 172 cm. Berlin, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Gemäldegalerie

66

way that you think I am merely human. ›For

I have not yet ascended to the Father.‹ I shall

ascend to my Father, and you shall touch me,

that is, go forth, see me as equal to the Father,

then touch me and you will be redeemed.«48

Christ’s aequalitas to God, upon which Au-

gustine bases his considerations, is no longer per-

ceptible through the usual senses of sight and

touch. It even exceeds the imago, the image, as

Augustine remarks in another context.49 There-

fore, it makes sense that Mary Magdalene’s vita

in the Legenda aurea not only reports how she

was able to heal the blind, but also repeatedly

describes her as being an iconoclast of heathen

images.50 But, pictorial depictions of Mary Mag-

dalene’s and Christ’s encounter also ran the risk

of misjudging the divine nature of Christ, as

Augustine believed Maria Magdalene had. The

image also had to distance itself from the viewer.

It required an inherent distinction that would

force the viewer to no longer rely on the sense of

sight. An encounter with the resurrected Christ

had to be as untouchable for the viewer as Christ

was for Mary Magdalene.

With his altarpiece for the church of San Lo-

renzo in Vicenza, Bartolomeo Montagna at-

tempted to portray the theological gist of the

scene by involving the viewer in a process of

reception in which seeing is not necessarily be-

lieving. Although the picture is clearly structured

in two layers – the foreground with John the

Baptist and St. Jerome, and the landscape back-

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

rather thinks he is the gardener. It only takes one

word – his salutation »Mary!« – to reveal his true

identity as the resurrected Christ. Only after

Christ reveals himself in conversation, can Mary

Magdalene report back to the apostles »I have

seen the Lord!«44

The way Mary Magdalene has »seen the

Lord«, however, no longer corresponds to the

way she saw the man whom she first took to be

the gardener. In revealing himself, Christ also

forbids her to touch him: Noli me tangere. Yet,

in the Gospel according to Matthew, the two

women at the tomb report that they were not

hindered from touching Christ’s feet,45 which

confronted exegetic and homiletic literature with

the problem of deciphering what Christ meant

by Noli me tangere. Both Augustine46 and Greg-

ory the Great47 attempted to explain Christ’s

words by suggesting that Mary Magdalene

would have only been able to touch and feel

Christ in his human form. By distancing himself

from her, Christ emphasizes his aequalitas, his

equality in nature, to God the Father. In a ser-

mon, Augustine imagined how Christ himself

would have explained his words: »What did he

mean then, when he said: ›Do not touch me, for

I have not yet ascended to the Father‹? The way

you see me is the way you think I am – ›I have

not yet ascended to the Father‹. You see me as

a human being, and you regard me as a human

being. Of course, I am human, but do not place

your faith in that. Do not touch me in such a

Touching with the Gaze. A Visual Analysis of theNoli me tangere, in: Barbara Baert et al. (eds.), Nolime tangere. Mary Magdalene: One Person, ManyImages, Leuven 2006, 43–52; Ulrike Tarnow, Noli metangere: Zur Problematik eines visuellen Topos undseiner Transformation im Cinquecento, in: ThomasFrank, Ursula Kocher and Ulrike Tarnow (eds.),Topik und Tradition. Prozesse der Neuordnung vonWissensüberlieferungen des 13. bis 17. Jahrhunderts,Göttingen 2007, 209 –225.

44 »Vidi Dominum!« (Jn 20,18).45 See Mt 28,9.46 See Augustinus, Sermo CCXLIV: In diebus Pascha-

libus, XV; Migne (as note 33), vol. 38, col. 1147–1151.47 See Gregorius Magnus, Homiliae in Evangelia, lib. II,

XXV; Gregorius Magnus, Homiliae in Evangelia.

Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, vol. 141, ed.Raymond Étaix, Turnhout 1999, 204 –216.

48 Augustinus, Sermo CCXLIV: In diebus Paschalibus,XV; Migne (as note 33), vol. 38, col. 1150.

49 Augustinus, De diversis quaestionibus octoginta tri-bus, LXXIV; Aurelius Augustinus, De diversis quaes-tionibus octoginta tribus. De octo Dulcitii quaestio-nibus. Corpus Christianorum. Series Latina, vol. 44A,ed. Almut Mutzenbecher, Turnhout 1975, 213–214. –Only Christ as the Father’s image and his equalreconciles aequalitas and imago; see Robert A. Mar-kus, »Imago« and »similitudo« in Augustine, in: Re-vue des études augustiniennes 10, 1964, 125–143.

50 Johann G. Theodor Graesse (ed.), Jacobi a VoragineLegenda aurea, Breslau 31890, 407– 417.

51 Daniel Arasse made a similar observation in his analy-

67

presence and absence appear inextricably inter-

woven. Bartolomeo Montagna also seems to have

applied the window–picture concept to create a

unique form of ambiguity.

In Augustine’s opinion, when Christ asked

Mary Magdalene not to touch him, it was not

meant to be a rude repudiation, but rather an

invitation to touch him in a different way – in a

more figurative sense, not limited to his physical

human form. Bartolomeo Montagna’s picture

superbly demonstrates this paradoxical form of

touching without bodily contact. With Christ

depicted further away than Mary Magdalene in

the pictorial space and with a slightly evasive

posture, Montagna ensured that his depiction did

not suggest a violation of Christ’s wish. Though

they come close to touching each other with

their hands, there is still an adequate distance

separating them. If the viewer regards the scene,

however, as a picture within a picture, she or he

will notice that both figures are actually touching

at two significant points. At the two-dimensionallevel, Christ’s right hand comes in contact with

Mary Magdalene’s head, while her hand touches

the foot of the resurrected Christ. Within the

illusionistically depicted pictorial space, and

thus, at the representational level of the biblical

story, Christ does not permit Mary Magdalene

any physical contact. Yet, Montagna makes this

contact possible if the viewers decide they are

no longer looking through a window, but at an

opaque surface.51 By interweaving spatial illusion

and pictorial surface, the window-picture and the

opaque painting, Bartolomeo Montagna is able

to portray that fragile simultaneity of closeness

and withdrawal that characterizes the encounter

between Mary Magdalene and Christ.52

Giovanni Bellini, Giovanni Battista Cima da

Conegliano, Marco Basaiti and Bartolomeo

Montagna put a fundamentally different twist

onto the window–picture comparison as it was

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

ground depicting the biblical event – the rela-

tionship between these layers is dubious at closer

examination. Because the landscape seems to lie

directly behind the architectural supports in the

foreground, viewers get the initial impression

that they are looking through openings. But like

in the paintings of Giovanni Bellini, Cima da

Conegliano and Marco Basaiti, the pictorial fore-

ground and background belong to completely

different levels of reality. There are no shadows

in the landscape from the pillars or pilasters in

the foreground, and there is not a plant, nor

pebble that penetrates the narrow proscenium.

The two pilasters that frame the scene with

Christ and Mary Magdalene are particularly odd.

One has to wonder why there are no massive pil-

lars or columns supporting the protruding con-

soles and arches. In contrast to three-dimension-

al pillars, pilasters are usually placed against a

supporting wall which provides stability. Once

the viewers have noticed these pilasters, they

suddenly realize they may no longer be looking

at the biblical scene through an architectural

opening; the background now appears as a flat,

painted surface – a picture within a picture. The

reality status of the central image in Bartolomeo

Montagna’s altarpiece also exhibits a disturbing

oscillation, as the continuity of the landscape

behind the pilasters gives the beholder the feeling

of looking through openings.

By considering whether it would be possible

to pass through the depicted architecture to the

background or whether the spaces between the

pilasters and columns are merely flat, painted

surfaces, the viewer is encouraged to reflect on

the relationship between seeing and touching.

For the viewer, the scene in which Mary Mag-

dalene encounters Christ appears close enough

to touch, but at the same moment, the scene is

removed, because it is revealed as potentially

illusory. Once again, proximity and withdrawal,

sis of sixteenth-century depictions of the scene Nolime tangere; see Arasse (as note 43), 105.

52 Nielsen (as note 42), 111, regards the kneeling MaryMagdalene at Christ’s feet as a parallel to the biblicalscene in which she washes the feet of Christ with her

tears, after which she dries them with her hair andanoints them with oil. However, there is no anointingjar visible in the picture, nor any sign of Mary Mag-dalene crying.

68

ly accessible and that they cannot completely

grasp the picture simply by looking at it. For the

picture itself, this strategy implies that the ulti-

mate goal is not to achieve transparent visibility,

but to keep something in ›reserve‹. If what the

viewer initially thinks is an opening with a view

turns out to be a two-dimensional picture, the

revocation of transparency would make the

viewer revert to the basic conditions of pictorial

representation.54 The fact that the picture dis-

closes the conditions of possibility through

which it is depicted (its two-dimensionality, pe-

ripheral limitations, bond with materials, etc.)

does not necessarily lessen its suggestive force.

Rather, the viewer is able to experience first-hand

how a picture can evoke nearness and presence

despite its fundamental limitations. This effect is

all the more remarkable in view of the fact that

the pictorial depiction is accompanied by an

imminent vagueness or withdrawal. ›Reframing‹

the concept of the window-picture has resulted

in the creation of images which combine the sug-

gestion of presence and the experience of with-

drawal and absence in an extremely unique way.

They are pictures »en partance«.55

Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 72. Band / 2009

conceived by Alberti. It is possible that the Vene-

tian artists were motivated to subversion by

Jacopo Bellini’s modifications to Alberti’s con-

cept in some of his drawings. Instead of clarify-

ing the reality status of the images within, the

artists preferred to use the analogy of the win-

dow and picture to create confusion and unsolv-

able ambiguity. The forms of image layering and

the functions of the framing constellations used

by the Venetians did not clearly differentiate the

levels of reality (or more precisely, »levels of

unreality«),53 which one can often identify in the

wall murals of the quattrocento.

The basic characteristic of the pictorial strate-

gies used in the artworks analyzed above is not

the differentiation of such levels of representa-

tion, but rather their oscillation. Centrally locat-

ed within the pictures, we encounter an uncon-

trollable fluctuation between interpretations – at

one moment, a view out of an opening and

simultaneously, a picture within a picture –

which indicates the evocation of nearness and

accessibility, on one hand, and its revocation, on

the other. What the viewers learn from this ex-

perience is that the images they see are not whol-

53 See Sven Sandström, Levels of Unreality. Studies inthe Structure and Construction in Italian MuralPainting during the Renaissance, Uppsala 1963; andFelix Thürlemann, Fictionality in Mantegna’s SanZeno Altarpiece. Structures of Mimesis and the His-tory of Painting, in: New Literary History 20/3, 1989,747–761.

54 See Marin 1997 (as note 5), 66 – 67; and Gottfried

Boehm, Der Topos des Anfangs. Geometrie und Rhe-torik in der Malerei der Renaissance, in: Ulrich Pfiste-rer and Max Seidel (eds.), Visuelle Topoi. Erfindungund tradiertes Wissen in den Künsten der italienischenRenaissance, München/Berlin 2003, 48–59, esp. 55–56.

55 Nancy (as note 43), esp. 83–84; see also Jean-LucNancy, Au fond des images, Paris 2003, 11–33 (L’i-mage – le distinct).

Photo credits: 1, 2 Servizio Musei del Commune di Pesaro. – 3, 4 © Réunion des Musées Nationaux (RMN),Paris, Gérard Blot. – 5, 6 Bildarchiv Foto Marburg. – 7 © The National Gallery, London. – 8 SoprintendenzaSpeciale per il Polo Museale Veneziano. – 9 bpk / Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin. Foto: Jörg

P. Anders