August
5 through October 26, 2014
El Greco (1541–1614)
Vincenzo Anastagi, c. 1575
Oil on canvas
74 x 49 ⅞ inches
The Frick Collection, New York
Photo: Michael Bodycomb
El
Greco’s Vincenzo Anastagi, acquired a century ago by Henry Clay Frick, is
one of The Frick Collection’s most celebrated paintings and one of only two
full-length portraits by the master. It was executed during the artist’s
six-year stay in Rome, before he moved to Spain, where he spent the rest of his
career. Much of the force of this work emanates from the resplendent half-armor
worn by Anastagi. Rich highlights applied with broad brushstrokes accentuate the
steel, its metallic sheen contrasting with the velvety texture of Anastagi’s
green breeches and the dark crimson curtain.
Scipione Pulzone (c.
1540/42–98)
Jacopo Boncompagni, 1574
Oil on canvas
48 x 39 ⅛ inches
Private collection, courtesy of
Jean-Luc Baroni Ltd.
Photo: Michael Bodycomb
To mark the 400th anniversary of
El Greco’s death, the Frick will pair Vincenzo Anastagi with the rarely seen Jacopo
Boncompagni by
the artist’s Roman contemporary Scipione Pulzone. With its gleaming, highly
detailed polish, Pulzone’s portrait of Boncompagni, on loan from a private
collection, epitomizes the elegant style that dominated high-society
portraiture in Rome during the last quarter of the sixteenth century. El
Greco’s painterly portrayal of Anastagi stands in stark contrast, underscoring
the artist’s innovative departures from convention. The exhibition, held in the
Frick’s East Gallery, is organized by Jeongho Park, Anne L. Poulet Curatorial
Fellow.
MASTER OF PORTRAITURE: EL GRECO IN ROME
El
Greco was born Domenikos Theotokopoulos in 1541 on the Greek island of Crete,
which had been under Venetian rule since 1212. One of the few surviving records
from his early years indicates that he was already an established painter of
icons by 1566. He relocated to Venice in 1567, probably dissatisfied with his
career as a Byzantine icon painter. There he absorbed Venetian Renaissance
painting and began his transformation into an Italianate painter. As an
aspiring artist, it was necessary for El Greco to master portrait painting.
During the sixteenth century, portraiture grew in popularity in Europe, and
portraitists enjoyed increasing recognition and esteem. A well-painted likeness
was an effective way to win the favor of a prospective patron and become a
court painter. Once associated with a court, an artist would enjoy not only
economic stability but also the elevated status of a courtier.
In
1570 El Greco moved to Rome, where a recommendation written for him by the
miniaturist Giulio Clovio led to his acceptance into the household of Cardinal
Alessandro Farnese. Clovio introduced El Greco as a pupil of Titian and wrote
specifically of a marvelous “self-portrait that astonished the painters in
Rome.” Unfortunately, this painting has not survived. Clovio’s claim about El
Greco’s mastery of portraiture is confirmed by the artist’s portrait of him
(Museo di Capodimonte, Naples), completed about 1571. In this work, El Greco
demonstrates his remarkable ability to depict psychologically penetrating
likenesses with exacting naturalism. Although not officially hired by the
cardinal, El Greco spent the next year and a half focusing on portraits for the
circle of learned men who gathered at the Farnese Palace. In 1572, for reasons
that are unknown to us, El Greco was expelled from the Farnese household. His
execution of the portrait of Vincenzo Anastagi was no doubt part of his effort
to draw the attention of powerful men and to secure much-needed patronage after
his expulsion.
A
PROMISING
SUBJECT FOR SELF-PROMOTION: VINCENZO ANASTAGI
Anastagi
was born into a noble family in Perugia around 1531 and became a Knight of
Malta in 1563. He was most famous for his contribution to the victory against
the Ottomans during the Siege of Malta in 1565. He was also known as an expert
in fortifications, and his biography is included in a book published in 1578–79
about famous people from Perugia.
As
a middle-ranking nobleman, Anastagi would not have been a promising patron. He
was not particularly interested in paintings and was therefore unlikely to
commission further works. He was, however, connected to a very eminent
personage: Jacopo Boncompagni, the natural son of Pope Gregory XIII. Born in
Bologna in 1548, Jacopo was legitimized almost immediately by his father. He
moved to Rome in March 1572, when his father was elected pope, and in that year
assumed the offices of governor of Rome’s Castel Sant’Angelo and head of the
papal army. In 1575 Boncompagni named Anastagi sergeant major of the Castel
Sant’Angelo; it was probably on this occasion that Anastagi commissioned his
portrait. The close connection between the two men may well have motivated El
Greco. It could be expected that the portrait would be shown to Boncompagni and
possibly even to Pope Gregory XIII. Since Boncompagni was known to be a great
patron of the arts, El Greco’s portrait of Anastagi was an ideal means of
self-promotion.3
For his portrayal of Anastagi, El Greco would
have looked to examples of military portraits, the most recent, successful
likeness of this type being Pulzone’s portrait of Boncompagni. Pulzone was at
this time the most sought-after portrait painter in Rome, having portrayed
dignitaries of the highest rank, including Pope Pius V, Pope Gregory XIII, and
Cardinal Alessandro Farnese. The artist also enjoyed personal relationships
with powerful patrons; his first son, Giacomo, was Boncompagni’s godchild.
CONSIDERING PULZONE’S JACOPO BONCOMPAGNI
El
Greco undoubtedly would have been aware of Pulzone’s splendid likeness. The
three-quarter-length portrait communicates Boncompagni’s high status with the
detailed depiction of his opulent armor, meticulously groomed beard, and
elegant hands. According to the inscription on the piece of paper in the sitter’s
right hand, the portrait was executed in 1574, only about one year before El
Greco painted Vincenzo Anastagi. In his left hand, Boncompagni holds a wooden
letter case, which suggests that the painting was probably commissioned when
Jacopo was sent on a diplomatic mission to Ferrara to greet Henri de Valois,
the future French king, Henry III.
In
the portrait, Pulzone achieves lifelike qualities through painstakingly
rendered details. Traces of brushwork are suppressed in order to gain a highly
finished surface that adds to the portrait’s sense of refinement. Boncompagni’s
dazzling armor displays techniques of embossing, damascening, bluing, and
gilding. Pulzone’s depiction of the breeches—woven with gold and silver
threads—shows an equal degree of precision. The light bouncing off the
breastplate lends tactile effect to the polished surface of the metal.
Pulzone’s masterful depiction of the play of light in the smallest details,
such as on the fringe of the curtain, enhances the illusionistic effect.
THE PORTRAYAL IN ARMOR TO PROMOTE ONE’S IMAGE
As
a newcomer to Roman noble society, Boncompagni would have felt the need to
actively propagate his image, and a portrayal in armor would serve this
purpose. Armor had gradually become obsolete in the sixteenth century, after
firearms replaced swords and lances as the principal weapons of warfare;
paradoxically, the loss of its utilitarian function served only to enhance its
prestige, and it was seen as a symbol of masculinity, military valor, wealth,
social status, and antique lineage. Pulzone’s portrayal of Boncompagni in such
ostentatious armor reflects the sitter’s important positions as governor of
Castel Sant’Angelo and head of the papal army.
The figure of Saint Michael on
the breastplate refers not only to Castel Sant’Angelo but also to Boncompagni’s
role as the protector of the Church. Militant spirit is accentuated in the
prominent display of the figure of Mars on the helmet and the armored glove
placed on the table. Lining the golden bands that twine the breastplate and
shoulder and arm defenses are various trophies that represent military feats.
More specific than the spoils are the depictions of captive Turks along the
center band of the breastplate and the base of the helmet, which commemorate
the recent victory over the Ottomans at the Battle of Lepanto in 1571. In
addition to the martial motifs, there are symbols of wealth and prosperity—such
as cornucopias and grotesque figures carrying jars of fruit—meant to convey
Boncompagni’s eminent status.
When
El Greco portrayed Anastagi, both the painter and the sitter would have been
keenly aware of the prestige associated with armor, but the trappings El Greco
could use in his depiction were limited by the sitter’s rank of sergeant major. Unlike Boncompagni, who wears highly
decorative parade armor, which was reserved for ceremonial occasions, Anastagi
is portrayed in field armor, which was used in battle. Regardless of the degree
of opulence, however, armor itself was perceived as a status symbol. In the sixteenth
century, even merchants would have themselves portrayed in armor. In this
sense, Anastagi’s desire to be depicted in armor and with a rapier reflects not
only his wish to make known his profession but also to aggrandize himself. El
Greco’s use of the full-length format further emphasizes the sitter’s ambition.
Anastagi was from a noble family, but his status did not approach that of the
kings, generals, and grandees for whom full-length military portraits were
customarily reserved.
EL GRECO FAVORS INNOVATION AND ARTISTRY OVER TRANSCRIPTION OF REALITY
For
El Greco, representing Anastagi in armor would have presented an excellent
opportunity to display his artistry. Contrary to previous studies that assume
this work is a literal depiction of reality, research undertaken in preparation
for this exhibition indicates that the painter went beyond a faithful
description of the symbolic objects. Most striking is El Greco’s drastic
abbreviation of the details of Anastagi’s armor, prioritizing instead a blaze
of light reflected on the metal surface. During the Renaissance, the painted
representation of reflective armor was considered to be a powerful means of
demonstrating a painter’s virtuosity and was often offered as proof of
painting’s superiority over all other artistic genres. El Greco certainly would
have been aware that the artistic skill necessary to imitate the glittering
armor would draw much praise.
El
Greco’s innovations were not limited to the representation of armor. The
painter appears to have taken careful measures to render the unusual form of
the curtain, which emphasizes the most important elements in the portrait, the
sitter’s face and armor. As can be seen in the pentimento, El Greco moved the
contour of the right edge of the drape upward in order to align it closer to
the sitter’s left forearm. Also, the X-radiograph taken during the painting’s
treatment in 1958–59 indicates that El Greco shortened the curtain to achieve a
tighter focus on the sitter’s upper body, which allows the viewer to appreciate
the painter’s ability to depict the different textures of various materials.
Showcasing
his artistic invention, the painter achieves a sense of verisimilitude quite
distinct from that of Pulzone’s meticulously executed portrait. It is as though
El Greco’s intent was to emphasize Anastagi’s military career and personal
traits over his status. The sunburnt face and strands of gray hair, rendered
with short, powerful brushstrokes, bear witness to his career on the
battlefield—these are not the idealized features of an elegant courtier. White
hose accentuate the athletic, muscular calves befitting an infantry officer.
Anastagi’s sense of self-possession is enhanced by the placement of his arms,
which frame his torso. In the sixteenth century, this pose was associated with
aggressive masculine virtues. The pentimento to the sitter’s left reveals that
El Greco made an inventive change in the depiction of the sword. By shifting
its orientation without altering the position of the hand, the painter directs
the viewer’s attention to the gilded hilt and to the scabbard, so that the
weapon seems almost an extension of the sergeant’s powerful forearm.
El
Greco’s likely intention was to honor Anastagi while simultaneously displaying
his own artistic invention. The painter has been described as a proud man who
felt a keen sense of rivalry with other artists of his time. Although there is
no evidence documenting El Greco’s opinion of Pulzone, a compelling case can be
made for the catalytic effect that the most successful portraitist in Rome had on the Cretan
artist. A link emerges between the magnificent verisimilitude of Pulzone’s Jacopo
Boncompagni (as well as the acclaim it brought him) and El Greco’s
ambition to surpass Pulzone in terms of fame and artistry, which prompted the
creation of the highly original Vincenzo Anastagi.
PUBLICATION
Men in Armor: El Greco and Pulzone Face to Face is
accompanied by an illustrated catalogue that features an essay by Jeongho Park,
the exhibition’s guest curator. The book (softcover, 64 pages, 35 illustrations;
$14.95, Member price: $13.46) will be available in the Museum Shop or can be
ordered through the Frick’s Web site (www.frick.org) or by phone at
212.547.6848.
FRICK EXTENDS
ITS FOCUS ON EL GRECO
INTO FALL AND WINTER
The Frick will extend its focus on El Greco through the fall
and winter with an installation organized in conjunction with El Greco in
New York, opening in November at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The
Frick will unite its three remarkable El Greco paintings—
Purification of the Temple
and portraits of Vincenzo Anastagi and
St. Jerome
—for the first time showing them together on one wall of the East Gallery. El Greco at the Frick, runs from November 4, 2014, through February 1, 2015.
Purification of the Temple
and portraits of Vincenzo Anastagi and
St. Jerome
—for the first time showing them together on one wall of the East Gallery. El Greco at the Frick, runs from November 4, 2014, through February 1, 2015.