Donatello (i havn't had time to write on her, so i might as well put what i've been writing for school

 (i havn't had time to write on her, so i might as well put what i've been writing for school)

                                

Exam 1:

Comprehensive look at and critique of Vasari’s view of Donatello

All of the artists that can be chosen from are proto or early renaissance geniuses. They all contributed in one way or another to what eventually became the artwork of Michelangelo, Da Vinci, and Raphael. Some, however, such as Fra Angelica, capture something that the high renaissance artists never could. In his case, the serenity of Mary in his annunciations may never be equaled. Above all else, the single early-renaissance artist that probably will never be bested is Donatello. Donatello is truly one of a kind. No other artist in history has been able to capture the raw emotion of a person and portray it through sculpture as effectively and simply as he does. His work is able to touch the soul, but even more remarkable is he was the first to ever attempt to do so. Without doubt he succeed far beyond what any person believed was possible, and no one will ever be able to match his ability to capture everything it means to be human with in sculpture.

Vasari pays Donatello the highest compliment, saying that he “sculpts with so much grace and elegance and such fine sense of design that they were considered to be more like the distinguished works of the ancient Greeks and Romans than any other artist” (Vasari, 148). Of course, because the Greeks and Romans were considered to be the best sculptors before the renaissance, to say that he nearly imitates them perfect is a huge compliment. He even says it more straight forward in the sentence after, saying that “no other artissan surpassed him in this field, and even in our own times, there is no one who is his equal” (Vasari, 148). There is no better praise that can be given, and all of this praise is more than justified. Donatello truly was the first to fully grasp what is possible in a piece of sculpture; the emotions, the feelings, the personal relationship a viewer can have with the piece, he was able to do it all. Vasari goes through a long list of the magnificent work, specifically his David, his Saint George, a piece Vasari calls the Abundance, his I’ll Zuccone, and most of all his Gattamelata. Vasari gives all the pieces individual comments of recognition, but the three most important are his Saint George, which is given worthy praise, his David, a piece highly over rated in relation to other similar pieces, and his Mary Magdalene, a highly underrated piece of his and possibly one of the most signficant pieces of early renaissance.

Saint George is a fantastic sculpture, originally crafted for the Armourers’ Guild to be placed in their niche of the Orsanmichele, it is by far the most famous of the representatives inhabiting the structure. Later moved to the near by Bargello, people come from far and wide to view this dragon slaying hero. Vasari describes the head of the figure as “a youthful beauty, courage and skill in arms are reflected, as well as a fiercely awesome vitality and a marvelous sense of movement” (Vasari, 151). This is an exceptionally accurate account of the piece. The small jaw and head, along with the simple eye brows and smile, give the sculpture a boyish, or “youthful”, appearance. Yet, accompanying this boyishness is the stern gaze which is looking, presumably, at the dragon. This gaze screams of confidence, even more so than Michelangelo’s David. If there was a statue to come to life and, with sword in hand, slay a dragon it would be this one. More than any other piece, it is his eyes that capture me. Some say he looks as if he were a man turned to stone, but I disagree with this. There is no way he could be: he is much too good looking. There is an idealized air around the piece that is portrayed so significantly by the great Donatello. Vasari goes on to speak about the bas-relief on the lower part of Saint George’s tabernacle, calling it a piece with “a horse that is highly esteemed and highly praised” (Vasari, 151). This is more praise than I feel inclined to give. I do not fully understand the appreciation of bas-relief. It does its purpose well in the tabernacle—which is to tell the story of Saint George without distracting from George himself—but the bas-relief by itself does not seem to be anything too substantial. There is only so much praise lightly carved material deserves, but none the less the two together are remarkable. They represent the most pure form of confidence that can be found in Renaissance art.

 Unfortunately, the view of Saint George is slightly blocked by what is sometimes considered Donatello’s greatest work: David. Located directly in front of Saint George, it is easy to compare the two; the powerful, beautiful Saint George versus the David; most accurately descirbed as very….feminine. The age of David when he slays Goliath is unclear, some would say that he was an undeveloped boy, others would say a teenager beginning to look like a man. Different artists have chosen to shape David in very different ways. Verrocchio’s David looks like a young boy, and later, Michelangelo’s David looks like a full blown man. However, Donatello’s doesn’t look like either. When looked at disregarding the “man parts” he, without doubt, looks like a little girl. The curve of the body, the simplistic shape and lack of muscle development create a very effeminate look, from the back he actually looks a little provocative, no man has curves like that. But why would Donatello do this? Maybe it only looks feminine compared to the other two David’s. Maybe a little girl and a little boy look a lot a like, or most likely, Donatello probably tried to convey the sense of innocence that David had when he set out to slay Goliath, emphasizing how incredible the feet really was. Likely, in truth, it is a mixture of all of the above,  but the the fact is that his David is distractingly feminine. The light smile, and curvy body, all seem to emphasize femininity and create a weird sense of questioning that can make it uncomfortable for the viewer. The size of the hips, the placement of his hands, and even the hat, all seem like something a girl would do and wear. But most disconcerting of all is the uncomfortable feather standing up right into the most “private spot” of the statue. The sole salvaging aspect, however, is his face. No other piece surpasses the serenity, the life like qualities, of this face. Again, it does look a little girly, but beautiful without question. The proportions, the softness, and most of all, the smile, all are phenomenal. It’s the only aspect of the piece that screams “Donatello made this!” because no other artists has even been able to create a more powerful, yet simple, face in his or her work than Donatello. Some would say that it deserves extra room for error considering it was the first full cast bronze nude since the Romans, but truthfully Donatello knew what it was going to look like and purposefully made him look like a her. All in all, it is sad that the David gets as much attention as it does, there are other pieces by Donatello that deserve far more credit.

No piece is a better example of deserving more attention than Donatello’s Mary Magdalene. Carved out of wood, no other statue can take you through such a emotional journey. Vasari says that she is “very beautiful and well executed, for she has wasted away by fasting and abstinence to such an extent that every part of her body reflects a perfect and complete understanding of human anatomy” (Vasari, 149). This is true, but it is so much more than just an admirable statue. He only makes one comment which only draws attention to the physical production of the piece; this, possibly, is because Vasari is looking at it from an artists eye. But as a human, she can connect with a cord inside a person unlike any other sculpture. When first seen, the viewer is struck by a strange wooden carving, unclear of what is being represented, but as it is looked at more closely a face and body is found. Emotionally, the first feeling is disgust, for she looks to be in utmost grief. The cutting away is very ragged, much different than the normal polished marble people are used to looking at. The eyes have sunk back into their sockets, many teeth are missing, and she is clothed purely by her overgrown, ragged, and dirty hair. The viewer can not help but think of how ugly this piece is, but soon after that thought enters the mind her hands catch the eye. Perfectly carved, smooth and beautiful—in a gesture of prayer—they stand in direct contrast to the rest of her. And, as if the struck by an instant realization, the viewer sees that she isn’t in pain, isn’t ugly, but has rather given herself fully to God. Through fasting and abstinence she has focused everything on her savior, and her body has deteriated because of it. Part of her is in pain, for her savior is gone and she desires nothing else but to return to him; she is close, soon going to die, but it is clear that she is heaven bound, her hands show this within their serenity. They have done nothing but pray, and pray beautifuly. The detail of the piece only compliments the lack of detail in the hair and clothing. It shows that it is ragged not because the sculptor was a poor artist, but because he choose to express her that way. It is a beautiful piece, horrid and terrifying, yet most definitely beautiful which deserves great praise and recognition. Funny enough, seeing it in the small Duomo museum actually adds to its majesty because one does not expect to see such a powerful and significant piece of work in such a place.

Without doubt, Donatello is the most powerful sculptor who has ever lived, portraying all sides of human emotional, beauty, and spirituality. Although some have come close (like Michelangelo), no one has even been able to recreate the power of his pieces. He said it best himself when comparing his simple wooden crucifixion with Brunelleschi’s heroic, beautiful, one. He said to him “it’s for you to make Christs and for me to make peasants” (Vasari, 149), and this he did beautifully, always representing the common man.