mosaic; the capitals are of the most varied design and of exquisite execution.
Italian Gothic.—Italy is poorer than any other country in examples of the transition from round arched to pointed arched buildings. The use of the pointed arch was accepted at last as a necessity, and cannot be said ever to have been welcomed. The first buildings in which it is seen worked out fully in detail are those of Niccola Pisano, and but few examples exist of good Gothic work earlier than his time. The elaborately arcaded and sculptured west front of Ferrara cathedral is a screen to an early building. The cathedral and other churches at Genoa are certainly exquisite works, but they appear to owe their internal design rather to the influence of (perhaps) Sicilian taste than north Italian, and the exquisite beauty of the west front owes a good deal, at any rate, to French influence, softened, refined and decorated by the extreme taste of an Italian architect. The feature which most marks all Italian Gothic is the indifference to the true use of the pointed arch. Everywhere arches were constructed which could not have stood for a day had they not been held together by iron rods. There was none of that sense of the unities of art which made a northerner so jealous to maintain the proper relations of all parts of his structure. In Niccola Pisano’s works the arch mould rarely fits the capital on which it rests. The proportions of buttresses to the apparent work to be done by them are bad and clumsy. The window traceries look like bad copies of some northern tracery, only once seen in a hurry by an indifferent workman. There is no life, or development, or progress in the work. If we look at the ground-plans of Italian Gothic churches, we shall find nothing whatever to delight us. The columns are widely spaced, so as to diminish the number of vaulting bays, and to make the proportions of the oblong aisle vaulting bay very ungainly. Clustered shafts are almost unknown, the columns being plain cylinders with poorly sculptured capitals. There are no triforium galleries, and the clerestory is generally very insignificant. In short, a comparison of the best Gothic works in Italy with the most moderate French or English work would show at once how vast its inferiority must be allowed to be. Still there were beauties which ought not to be forgotten or passed over. Such were the beautiful cloisters, whose arcades are carried on delicate coupled shafts,—e.g. in St John Lateran and St Paul’s at Rome. Such also were the porches and monuments at Verona and elsewhere; and the campaniles,—both those in Rome, divided by a number of string-courses into a number of storeys, and those of the north, where there are hardly any horizontal divisions, and the whole effort is to give an unbroken vertical effect; or that unequalled campanile, the tower of the cathedral at Florence by Giotto, where one sees in ordered proportion, accurately adjusted, line upon line, and storey upon storey, perhaps the most carefully wrought-out work in all Europe.
The Italian architects were before all others devoted to the display of colour in their works. St Mark’s had led the way in this, but, throughout the peninsula, the bountiful plenty of nature in the provision of materials was seconded by the zeal of the artist. They were also distinguished for their use of brick. Just as in parts of Germany, France, Spain and England, there were large districts in which no stone could be had without the greatest labour and trouble; and here the reality and readiness which always marked the medieval workman led to his at once availing himself of the natural material, and making a feature of his brickwork.
The Gothic of Italy has, it must be admitted, no such grand works to show as more northern countries have. Allowance has to be made at every turn for some incompleteness or awkwardness of plan, design or construction. There is no attempt to emulate the beauties of the best French plans. Milan cathedral, magnificent as its scale and material make it, is clumsy and awkward both in plan and section, though its vast size makes it impressive internally. San Francesco, Assisi, is only a moderately good early German Gothic church, converted into splendour by its painted decorations. At Orvieto a splendid west front is put, without any proper adjustment, against a church whose merit is mainly that it is large and in parts beautifully coloured.
The finest Gothic interiors are of the class of which the Frari at Venice and Sant’ Anastasia at Verona are examples. They are simple vaulted cruciform churches, with aisles and chapels on the east side of the transepts. But even in these the designs of the various parts in detail are poor and meagre, and only redeemed from failure by the picturesque monuments built against their walls, by the work of the painter, and by their furniture. In fine, Gothic art was never really understood in Italy, and, consequently, never reached to perfection.
Whilst the Pointed style was almost exclusively known and practised in northern Europe, the Italians were but slowly improving in their Gothic style; and the improvement was more evinced in their secular than in their ecclesiastical structures. Florence, Bologna, Vicenza, Udine, Genoa, and, above all, Venice, contain palaces and mansions of the 12th, 13th, 14th and 15th centuries, which for simplicity, utility and beauty far excel most of those in the same and other places of the three following centuries. The contemporary churches do not exhibit the same degree of improvement in style that is conspicuous in these domestic works, for there are no works in Europe more worthy of study and admiration than the Ducal Palace at Venice, and some of the older works of the same class, and even of earlier date. The town halls of Perugia, Piacenza and Siena, and many houses in these cities, and at Corneto, Amalfi, Asti, Orvieto and Lucca, the fountains of Perugia and Viterbo, and the monuments at Bologna, Verona and Arezzo, may be named as evidence of the interest which the national art affords to the architectural student even in Italy, as late as the end of the 14th century; but after this it gradually gave way to the new style, though in some instances its influence may be traced even when it had been overborne by it. (R. P. S.)
Romanesque and Gothic Architecture in France
Most generally, Romanesque art is thought of as that period of art which followed and partook of the nature of Roman art and yet was too far removed from it to be classed as Roman. The difference, however, was not merely one of decay; it is rather in positive factors that we shall find the true characteristics of the style. Its formation was parallel to the development of the Romance languages, and like them it acquired barbaric elements.
In Rome itself hardly any, if any, contributions were made to its growth, and there as late as the 12th century the early Christian form of basilican church continued to be built. It may, perhaps, best be conceived as a Germano-Roman product, for even in Spain and north Italy, which became such strong centres of the art, the Visigoths and Lombards provided the Teutonic element. Besides this change of “blood” in the style, there is another element of change in the influences obtained from the more rapidly developed art of the East. This influence indeed was so strong and constant that, having it in view, we might almost describe the Romanesque style as Germano-Byzantine.
In the 6th and 7th centuries we have, on the one hand, the almost pure traditional early Christian art of Rome and indeed of western Europe, and on the other the direct establishment of matured Byzantine art at Ravenna, Parenzo, Naples and even in Rome. Then followed the mixture of these and of barbaric elements in the formation of several pre-Romanesque varieties, one of which has been named Italo-Byzantine. It was not until the age of Charlemagne that a centre was established strong enough for the formation of a new western school which should persist. From this time a progressive style was developed which led straight forward to the Gothic, and it is this movement which is best called Romanesque. This art was a perfect ferment of striving and experiment, of gathering and even of research; Roman, Byzantine and Saxon elements entered into its composition. It is probable also, as a result of Saracenic pressure on Syria, Asia Minor, North Africa and Spain, that artists, “bringing their crafts with them,” drew together from still remoter parts to gain the protection of the great ruler of the West and to help in the formation of Carolingian art. With the disintegration of the empire of Charlemagne many local schools arose in Germany, France and Lombardy, which—especially after the year 1000, when there appears to have been a renewed burst of building energy—resulted in considerable differentiation of styles. The centre of energy seems to have been now here, now there, yet with all the differences there was a general resemblance over the whole field. Until the exact date of a very large number of monuments is more perfectly established, it will be impossible to trace out exactly the intricate windings of the line of advance. In fact there are two conflicting sides to the question presented by Romanesque art. In the first place we have to consider the several schools in regard to a standard of absolute attainment, and in the second as relative to the line of persistence and to the formation of Gothic, which was so largely the culmination, and then the decay, of the forces present in Romanesque art. Some of the most beautiful and complete of the Romanesque schools contributed least, some of the most inchoate gave the most, to that which was to be.
