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mercoledì 30 novembre 2016

Carl Friedrich von Rumohr, [Three Journeys to Italy], 1832. Part Two



Carl Friedrich von Rumohr
Drey Reisen nach Italien. [Three Journeys to Italy]


Leipzig, F. A. Brockhaus, 1832

Part Two
Review by Francesco Mazzaferro

Fig. 15) The three tomes of the Italian Investigations and the Three Journeys to Italy


A diary of memoirs, not an autobiography

After the initial section dealing with the aesthetic issues (to which I have already devoted the first part of this post) the Three Journeys to Italy. Cal Friedrich von Rumohr’s Memories were structured into three main units, each dedicated to a journey and divided into chapters with different numbering. It was therefore a set of scattered memoirs, and not an autobiography. There were, inevitably, elements of fragmentation and discontinuity in the narrative. From the point of view of the literary quality, the first and second journeys were definitely superior to the third. The organization of the travel reports proved to be asymmetric: in the first journey, for example, the initial pages described von Rumohr’s previous life in Germany, describing the museums that he visited there; the travel route was then described step by step, both for the journeys to and from Italy. As the second journey was actually a long stay of five years, it would have required a predominant number of pages compared to the other two, but von Rumohr deliberately omitted many issues (ahead of the return, for example, he made no mention of the reasons leading him to travel back to Germany). At the end of the third journey, finally, twenty-five pages of detailed accounts were dedicated to the artworks he inspected for the count of the Prussian administration in Lombardy and Veneto, to finish with a sudden conclusion: one half page only dedicated to Venice, and no mention of the return trip.

Nonetheless, the Three Journeys offered a testimony not only of some salient episodes in the life of Carl Friedrich, but also of the development of art in Italy and Germany, in the years of the Napoleonic rule and in those immediately following it. In Italy, the author witnessed the dismantling of private collections (the Melzi collection in Milan, the Zambeccari one in Bologna) and the gradual establishment of large public museums (the Brera Gallery in Milan, the Pinacoteca Art Gallery in Bologna, the Gallery of the Academy in Florence). In Rome he observed a sequence of events of great importance for the development of German art (the sequencing between the circle of neo-classical painters and that of the Nazarenes, with intermediate figures between the two as Joseph Anton Koch). As for the method, von Rumohr witnessed the start of a systematic search of the sources of art history, combining it inseparably with the direct inspection of the works and then with his role as a connoisseur. His personal preferences were also made often very explicit in the pages of the Three Journeys: he disliked profoundly any breaking of linearity in architecture (the Tyrolean Baroque and the Spanish-style architecture in Naples), any gigantism in sculpture (the Farnese Hercules, the statue of Saint Carlo Borromeo), and any mannerism and academicism in painting. Finally, he factually hated from heart all the aesthetic theories prevailing in the German world.

The Three Journeys could hardly have been used by a visitor as a guide for the Grand Tour to Italy. The text described none of the most important monuments of the peninsula. Carl Friedrich was rather a careful observer who discovered the strengths and weaknesses of the Italian society of those years and wondered about their historical and cultural reasons. He discovered the country was severely weakened by the Napoleonic wars, even in the field of art: besides the French seizures, he experienced the unregulated flow of valuable goods on the antiquities market, often generated by the disposal of the property of religious orders like in Siena. He witnessed that the Palazzo Pitti in Florence had been literally emptied and the Bourbon collections transferred from Naples to Palermo to escape the Napoleonic troops. But in fact, he also discovered that no authority was able to consolidate its power in Italy: every government was everywhere weak. The authorities were exhausted by the anti-French guerrilla in Naples, suffered massive desertions among troops due to maintain order and law in Rome, and could not stop the criminal activities of gangster bands in the countryside. There was famine in Naples but also in Florence, and Verona was a poor town. The intermediate structures in the society pursued personal interests and did not provide for the common good.

Von Rumohr raised questions about the reasons for this weakness, and found them in social and economic structures. Italy was a country seeking to monetize its art, rather than preserving it: the Lombard nobility was competing to receive Carl Friedrich’s visit, hoping to benefit from purchases for Berlin museums; scams, fakes, and simply made-up attributions, corroborated by apocryphal signatures or other malicious manipulations in the paintings, were always around the corner.

While fully aware of the limitations of the circles that he attended, Carl Friedrich showed nevertheless a profound love for Italy. When in Germany, he suffered from real nostalgic crises and sought any kind of excuse to visit again our country. He had a strong aversion for the too conceptual nature of aesthetic discussions in Germany, which in his view paralyzed the artists and prevented them from expressing their full talent. During the second and the third journeys, he accompanied two young painters (Franz Horny and Friedrich Nerly) to Italy in the belief that only in Rome they could get free from the burden of German aesthetic and regain the space to freely exercise their talents.


The love of a young for Italian art

Carl Friedrich von Rumohr fell in love with painting when he was only fifteen years old, in front of some canvases attributed to Ruisdael, Correggio, Raphael and Claude Lorrain. He saw them in the private collection of the Count von Brombeck, in the castle of Söder [67] (a tiny town near Hannover). The collection included four hundred pieces, now dispersed. Since then, he sought to see as many paintings he could and started, already as a teenager, to travel across the leading museums of the German world, like Dresden, Kassel and Munich [68]. The second chapter of the First Journey was titled "From the German art collections" and documented, among other things, his enthusiasm since the years of youth for Raphael (he devoted several pages to the Sistine Madonna [69]), Paolo Veronese [70] and Rubens [71]. As for the Dutch, it is absolutely extraordinary - at least in the eyes of a reader of our day – that he assigned more importance to Adrian van de Velde, Paul Potter, Gerard Dow and Johann Both [72] compared to Rembrandt. On the other hand, the reading of those pages serves to understand the taste of the period, and also the conditions in which his interest for painting was developing in those days.

Fig. 16) Giovan Pietro Rizzoli called Giampietrino or Cesare Bernazzano, Leda with her children, 1520-1530

Here is, for example, what Carl Friedrich wrote on a visit to the gallery of Kassel: "It remains an unforgettable memory of Leonardo da Vinci’s Charity in the old gallery of Kassel, the painting whose memory had vanished, and which had almost gone lost. Just before me, Goethe had passed in Kassel; for hours - I was told - he had sat in front of the panel, and the seat was almost still warm when I was there. (...) In my vivid memory of that picture, I can still recognize the pupil of Verrocchio, the companion of Lorenzo di Credi, whose children were so similar to these. And yet I have seen more cleverness in all parts, more depth in character and expression. In the traits of the mother and those of three children, in particular the small one in his arms, I recognized I do not know what pain, what uncontrollable nostalgia. The painting is called the Charity. With this name, painters represented similar compositions in Italy in the following years, and yet always with a sense of maternal enthusiasm for the cheerful offspring who rejoiced around the mother. But here it seems that Leonardo did not follow this pattern; in fact, his nature was to always go beyond what the others were doing. Maybe, he wanted to make a reference to the lost paradise, and therefore intended to express pain, and concerns and an uncontrollable longing, or had in mind a mystical theme of which we lack the interpretation key today. Certainly the mother with a series of three sons served as a symbol of love of God, according to Christian concepts"  [73].

Fig. 17) Francesco Salviati, Charity, 1543-1545

Carl Friedrich wrote that he found himself in front of the work (which he believed to be one by Leonardo) shortly after the passage of Goethe. And yet this must have been a hyperbole: Goethe had indeed described the picture in a page of his diary in 1803, but he had visited Kassel in 1801 [74]. Von Rumohr had instead probably visited the gallery in 1804-1805. In any case, it is clear that, in those years, the work was considered as one of the absolute masterpieces of Italian art in Germany. Its history is really interesting. The painting was mysteriously discovered in Paris in 1756, and was immediately attributed to Leonardo, with the title Charity, by analogy with a series of similar drawings, held in Windsor, Chatsworth and Rotterdam, and considered autographs by Leonardo [75].

Fig. 18) Leonardo da Vinci, Leda and the Swan, 1503 - 1507, Devonshire Collection, Chatsworth

In truth, the drawings depicted a Leda and the swan, while the newly discovered painting responded to the Renaissance iconography of the Charity (a woman caring as a mother for three children, who are not their own). A vague memory only had remained of a Charity of Leonardo, so that the discovery was a real sensation. The Grand Duke of Hesse purchased the canvas to show it as the jewel of his collection in Kassel (then as now the work was located in the local art gallery). In 1806, the French seized the canvas and transferred it to the Louvre. After an incredible series of adventurous transfers across the Netherlands, France and Germany (among other things, for a period during the Second World War it belonged to the personal collection of Hermann Göring), the canvas returned to Kassel only in 1962.

Fig. 19) Carlo Portelli, Maastricht Charity, 1555-1560
Fig. 20) Marcantonio Franceschini, Charity, 1684 (?)
Fig. 21) Francesco Melzi (?), Leda and the Swan, 1514-1516 ca.

When Carl Friedrich saw it, the canvas showed only three children (the one in the harms and the two in the bottom right corner). A subsequent restoration discovered the fourth one (in the bottom left corner), as well as the painted-over eggshell, revealing the true theme of the work (i.e. Leda with her two pairs of twins: Helen and Clytemnestra, Castor and Pollux). This was the veritable only reason why the (three) children observed by Carl Friedrich were not wrapped to the mother, as in the iconographic motif of Charity as a Christian symbol of love: it was in fact a completely different symbolic and compositional scheme. It was known that Leonardo had painted both a Leda (of which many imitations of students remained) and a Charity, whose image was completely unknown. It is not to be excluded that one of the four children and the eggshell had been intentionally painted over in the Eighteenth century in order to assign the picture to Leonardo, of whose Charity much less was known. After the restauration in 1904, the work was attributed by Woldemar von Seitlitz, a major art historian of Dresden, to a pupil of Leonardo, Giovan Pietro Rizzoli, said Giampietrino. Today the painting is exhibited in Kassel as a work of Giampetrino or of Cesare Bernazzano, another disciple of Leonardo. And yet, as demonstrated by Friedrich Marx's essay on "The Charity of Leonardo da Vinci in the Grand Ducal Gallery in Kassel" of 1916 [76], the attribution to Leonardo died hard.

Fig. 22) The study of Friedrich Marx "On the Charity of Leonardo da Vinci at the Kassel Grand Ducal Gallery"

The case of the Leda shows that, in those decades, the Italian art history was based on a number of often uncertain attributions and very suspicious business affairs. This ambiguity was the other side of the coin of the commercial success of Italian art in Europe, and the result of the eagerness of the powerful people of all ages to collect Italian masterpieces for their collections, paying a high price (or, if necessary, using force). In this case also Carl Friedrich fell into the trap and confirmed the attribution to Leonardo.


The first journey (1805-1806)

Carl Friedrich von Rumohr left for Italy when he was twenty years. It was the time of Napoleon's victories in the war against the German states, with the battle of Austerlitz in 1805 and the creation of the Confederation of the Rhine, the framework within which Germany was subjected to French interests, in 1806. Carl Friedrich departed from Munich in the direction of Italy along with some peers: two painters, a sculptor and a poet [77]. The latter was, as we said in the first part, Ludwig Tieck (1773 -1853), one of the fathers of the Sturm und Drang, with whom he was linked by a solid relationship of friendship, despite the complete difference of ideas about art [78]. None of them spoke a single word of Italian [79], but the attraction for the country of art was too strong, even in those war years.

Fig. 23) Carl Friedrich von Rumohr in a print reproduced
in the edition of the Italian Investigations of 1920, edited by Julius von Schlosser

The pages on the first journey immediately surprise the reader for what he wrote, but also for what he omitted. One would search in vain for a description of the Sistine Chapel and the Raphael Rooms, as well as other masterpieces of Italian art. Instead, the reader noted a permanent interest in the overall reasons (for example, the social and economic causes, as well as ideological ones) that could offer him a rational explanation of the conditions of the Italian society, and as part of it, even the state of the fine arts and architecture. In many respects von Rumohr, during his journey to Italy, seemed interested in collecting the elements of a first social history of Italian art.

When he was still travelling in the German-speaking world (in the third chapter, devoted to "Travel through the mountains of Tyrol") von Rumohr revealed his profound aversion for baroque and rococo architecture: "In the long run we can adjust to everything; and yet I have never managed to conciliate with the architecture of the churches and cloisters of Innsbruck. (...) The general pattern of these buildings consists of the absurd architecture of the Italians, inspired first by Michelangelo Buonarroti, and then reaching the peak with Bernini and Borromini" [80]. He was disturbed by the "senseless fluctuations and interruptions of their lines" [81], that the Tyrolean architects had further stressed in order to create combinations that were, in his opinion, devoid of any meaning [82] and which he called "neo-Roman monstrosities" [83].

Fig. 24) The basilica and the cloister of Wilten (Innsbruck) in a etching of 1840

The fourth chapter was devoted to the ''Entrance into Italy and the journey to Rome." In Trento, he immediately observed that the passage of the linguistic border corresponded to a different relationship between urban and agricultural structures: the urban centres in the Italian world were never surrounded by woods, and city inhabitants - as a result - never lived in direct contact with nature [84]. The observation revealed his early interest in agricultural economics. He wondered on the possible reasons (climate, security reasons) why Italian towns were always physically separated from the woods, and came to the conclusion that they were purely cultural, i.e. the consequence of the people's language commonality: "Maybe, the reason lies in the work of the language. This wonderful element is more powerful than you think. Thanks to it, opinions, views, thoughts, and reasons go from house to house, creating over time a general consensus and even managing to suppress, albeit unwittingly, the taste of dissent" [85].

He arrived in Verona, and one would expect some lines on the Arena. Instead, it followed comments on a city that had remained ancient both in its Roman ruins and in its medieval centre, mainly because it was poor and therefore it did not have modern buildings yet: "The soil of the province is sterile, its exploitation is less intensive, the city trade is limited " [86]. Carl Friedrich wrote that - between the cities of Lombardy [sic] - Verona was the only one to be in this situation, both in terms of public buildings and private residences; an exception, since main cities as well as smaller ones "are too rich in order to remain old, which in Italy is still considered in a very negative way, as it used to be amongst us in Germany until forty years ago" [87]. We were therefore in a period of transition. On the one hand there had been (both in Germany and in Italy) powerful energies in the direction of the modernization of the cities for economic reasons and probably also because of the influence of the Enlightenment. People did not see much problems in the destruction of entire medieval neighbourhoods in order to create new structures. On the other hand, it began to emerge the reasoning (typical of the romantic world, like in Germany) of historicism and thus also the preservation of assets (as well as the construction of modern buildings inspired by the past: think of the construction of the Cologne Cathedral in Germany).

The pages of Mantua were all dedicated to Giulio Romano and Palazzo Te, whose architectural structures von Rumohr said he recognized later in Rome, even if he did not appreciate the frescoes there [88]. He arrived in Bologna while the public art gallery was still under construction; he could instead admire the paintings of the Zambeccari collection [89]. Not surprisingly, he was completely silent on the Carraccis and the Bolognese school of the seventeenth century (as seen in the first part of the post, he attributed to that art school the decline of art in a conceptual direction). Instead, he quoted some works by Francesco Francia, but especially focused on the Casio Altarpiece by Boltraffio, at that time still in the Church of Santa Maria della Misericordia (now in the Louvre, where it has remained after being exchanged for another work with the Pinacoteca di Brera).

Fig. 25) Boltraffio, Virgin and Child with Sts John the Baptist and Sebastian, aka “Casio Altarpiece”, 1500

Even in the case of Florence - where he spent only six days – he visited the city in a state of disorder of the art collections, due to the confiscation of religious property and other vicissitudes in the Kingdom of Etruria, under Napoleon's control: "Palazzo Pitti was empty; the Galleria dell'Accademia has not yet been staged. We still managed to see something in the churches, although very little that was both known and accessible. We had to therefore limit ourselves to the Uffizi Gallery, which appeared to us as a small world" [90]. It is clear that the travel direction was Rome: for this reason the group quickly visited the cathedral in Siena [91] and then took it towards the eternal city.

"Who is not a part, or at least half-part, of the world of artists cannot imagine what feelings of real anxiety and what expectations of strange uncertainty assail these people, when they start to smell the proximity of the city. Since, if you come from this side, you do not see Rome except when you have come to the threshold of the city. When world men go through this way, they tend to doze, while history experts usually count on all their fingers the proofs of their knowledge about the past. Only the artist ponders here about quite different things, thinking to everything that has been painted, to all the rivalries that have been produced, to all the clashes that have erupted. He will think of Raphael, who lived honoured, powerful, surrounded by a court of a distinct type, certainly in the splendour. Or he will think of Michelangelo, who opposed the Popes. Or to the many other artists of ancient and modern times that learned and acquired glory here, or to those who failed miserably, going to shatter on the rocks of those churches where they worked. Because here in Rome there is really all about, in the most complete way. [A travelling artist about to reach Rome] will perhaps have in mind, when he is in a good mood, even the laughing common people of the era of Bamboccio [92] and Claude [93], on which Sandrart tells so beautiful stories. And then he will concentrate on himself, his desires, feelings and fantasies. [94]”

Fig. 26) Pieter van Laer, said Bamboccio, The cake seller, 1640-1660

After entering the city, his two first impressions were related to the comparison between what he was seeing and the knowledge he had acquired from etchings. The Milvian Bridge (then called Ponte Mollo) was no longer the one depicted by Johann Both in a beautiful "rustic" mood, but had been just rebuilt in a "miserable neo-Italian style" [95] (the neoclassical architect Giuseppe Valadier had in fact restored it precisely in 1805), while 'Piazza del Popolo' [96] was fortunately still in the conditions in which Gomar Wouters had described it at the end of the seventeenth century (it was eventually restored, again by Valadier, in 1818. Von Rumohr said it was happy to have been able to see it before).

Fig. 27) Johann Both, View of the Milvian Bridge, 1636-1640

Fig. 28) Gomar Wouters, 'Piazza del Popolo' adorned with new buildings and a view of the city of Rome as it is today, 1692

Carl Friedrich soon discovered an extraordinary harmony with the city, unlike the fellow travellers [97]. He spoke on it at the beginning of the fifth chapter, on "Living in Rome". Therefore, he decided to settle down here and to rent an apartment not far from the the papal palace at the Quirinale, which had a breath-taking view over the city: "I saw the cloisters with their gardens full of orange trees and beyond the Colosseum, the Caracalla Baths, the Pyramid and in the distance the watchtowers of the shore, and on the other side the pope's garden and the Vatican" [98].

Fig. 29) Asmus Jacob Carstens, The Night and his Sons, the Sleep and the Death, 1794
Fig. 30) Joseph Anton Koch, Landscape with thanksgiving offerings of Noah, 1803
Fig. 31) Joseph Anton Koch, The Matterhorn viewed from Rosenlaui, 1824
Fig. 32) Christian Gottlieb Schick, Apollo among the shepherds, 1806-1808

Once in Rome, Carl Friedrich immediately went in search of the German-speaking artists who were living there. He met the painters Joseph Anton Koch [99] (1768 -1839) and Christian Gottlieb Schick (1776-1812) and still found the traces of their neoclassic master Jacob Asmus Carstens in their studios [100] (1754 -1798). He also made acquaintance with the Danish neoclassic sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen [101] (1770-1844). He further noted that Thordvalsen enjoyed widespread success, while the merits of Koch were not always recognized, also as a consequence of a certain discontinuity in the quality and in the history of his paintings style [102]. Yet "he is true innovator in landscape painting: he knows how to give substance, character and personality to the land forms" [103]. The pre-romantic Koch, not the classic one, fascinated him.

He devoted really beautiful pages to his arrival in Naples - we are in the sixth chapter – and different ones from the often stereotyped tribute which the travellers devoted to the city at that time. Carl Friedrich visited the region while the Napoleonic troops were searching the irregular soldiers of Michele Arcangelo Pezzo, better known as Fra Diavolo, who were making continuous guerrilla attacks against the French [104]. In Capri, French troops must also defend themselves from the incursions of the English fleet, without sufficient means and therefore at the cost of heavy losses [105]. The military clashes and the acts of guerrilla around Naples exacerbated the extreme poverty; however, the society was both unable and unwilling to find effective forms of solidarity to deal with the exceptionally serious conditions, beyond pure window dressing. To an Italian contemporary reader, the narration is revealing how the key aspects of the so-called Southern Question, and some vulnerabilities of the Italian society in general, were already clearly visible to a careful observer in the Napoleonic era. Here too, von Rumohr’s pages differed from the models consciously practiced by the previous art literature.

"Naples? It has already been discussed so much on it, in poetry and prose! But now remain silent, dear reader; I will not repeat the old music, I will not describe the topography of the city and its territory, and I will not even mention the list of new archaeological excavations. No, no, I will tell you only what I felt and what I thought in this place. It is not much in itself, but at least it is not something already known. (...) Once again, I have experienced in Italy a serious, long and widespread famine. If I think again about these experiences, I feel compelled by a strong impulse to express some considerations in this regard. In no other country in the world there are so many bequests, foundations and confraternities aiming at relieving and reducing the misery of the sick, the weak, the needy and the injured. Charity is a necessary requirement to earn the respect of the citizens in the present as well as to secure their consideration and indulgence in the future. So, just because everyone feels the need to honour this duty on time and regularly, and in this aspect everything has, since ever, its own well-defined shape, its own rhythms and cadences, in Italy one does not feel compelled nor takes any initiative to activate emergency measures to prevent desperate times. So it can happen that, upon the occurrence of an exceptionally serious situation, the same person on the one hand distributes the usual alms, while on the other hand lets his wheat wither away in the warehouse, in the hope of a new rise in prices; in short, he may contribute to aggravate the state of necessity in its general aspects, and then relieve them in the particular ones. And you should not explain these contradictions with the hypocrisy behind which moneylenders often try to cover their real intentions as usurers. No, in Italy people do not need to be so sophisticated. They believe in an unscrupulous way that, having done their duty, they can pursue their personal daily benefits without even having to dissemble their behaviour" [106].

Let's go back to art: in the emergency conditions determined by the Napoleonic invasion, "part of the artistic treasures of Naples have followed the ruling house in Palermo, and in particular the Gallery has really thinned. In addition to the antiquity of the Farnese and Pompeii, many paintings have remained by Sebastiano del Piombo and Christoph Amberger; in both cases they are significant works for the two artists. The Pompeian museum in Portici is instead intact" [107]. It should be added that, if today the Capodimonte Gallery in Naples still houses (three) works by Sebastiano, there is no evidence on paintings of the German artist currently preserved in Naples (they were not even mentioned in von Rumohr’s Italian Investigations). They were therefore either paintings which have gone lost or attributions which are no longer considered valid today.

Fig. 33) Sebastiano del Piombo, Portrait of Clement VII, around 1526
Fig. 34) Sebastiano del Piombo, Madonna of the Veil, 1520

Finally, as to the Farnese collection, Carl Friedrich had nearly any enthusiasm for it: "The antique collection of the Farnese betrays the taste of his time and even the personal preferences of the initiators of this collection. Here is the Callipygian Venus, there is the imposing Hercules (the model of many sculptors of the school of Michelangelo), there again is the Farnese Bull. Originally, the Farnese wanted to expose them in places of public passage. These works have today a limited favour; antiquity shows to us better sides than what Michelangelo's followers appreciated, seeking among ancient statues only those that seemed to confirm their direction. Yet their choices have led to the assessment on the value of art of the ancient world, until Winckelmann and beyond, to the detriment of the study of ancient art and good taste" [108].

Fig. 35) Venus Callipigia, 1st century BC

As for the Angevin and Aragonese architecture of Naples, Carl Friedrich judged it "barbaric" [109], essentially confirming the same judgment that he had already expressed concerning the Tyrolean Baroque. His taste on the architectural style was characterized by a sense of measure: he disliked any commingling of styles or architectural elements (in this case, the excessive number of windows, the elevation of buildings up to ten floors, the lack of protruding parts), which would give the impression of a rupture of harmony.

The pressure of events following the Napoleonic wars led to Carl Friedrich’s decision to speed-up his return to Germany (the return trip is described in the seventh chapter, entitled "Roman Memoirs. Return Trip Back at Home"). In fact, the situation became dangerous when an entire German battalion in Napoleon’s army, located in Rome to control public order, deserted and disappeared in the Roman convents, with the encouragement and active support of German language prelates; the French troops began searches and reprisals against the German speaking communities in Rome, to look for them [110]. Von Rumohr had no role in that act of insubordination, but made no secret of considering the involved soldiers and prelates as true patriots, the heroes of an anti-French national liberation movement which – once they had fled from Rome – was due to continue with the unfortunate Tyrolean independence movement of Andreas Hofer [111]. In those conditions, Carl Friedrich decided to spend a few days in Rome to study for the last time museums and galleries [112] and then left the city along with Ludwig Tieck [113]. The Italian stages of his fast return back to Germany were Florence, Parma and Milan [114].

Fig. 36) Correggio, St. Bartholomew and St. Matthias on St. John,
Detail of the fresco in the dome of the Parma Cathedral, 1520-1524

Von Rumohr and Tieck spent a few days in Parma to admire the works of Correggio. There is a page displaying real enthusiasm for the possibility they had to climb up to the top of the dome of the cathedral, admiring closely its frescoes, especially the apostles and the angels. It was a revelation, which induced Carl Friedrich to say that Antonio Allegri, although being a much less educated painter than Raphael and Michelangelo, was superior to them because he used a "more original and innate concept of beauty", based on a combination of shapes and outlines [115]. In Milan - where the Brera Gallery was still being formed – he admired the Melzi collection [116] and the Last Supper by Leonardo [117]. A few lines were enough to tell the reader about his disgust in front of the colossal statue of St. Carlo Borromeo [118] (described as "a huge scarecrows in the fields", devoid of the formal architectural qualities that were needed for each work of these dimensions) and soon after the painter was back in the German world crossing the Lake Maggiore, along the Ticino, and from there reaching Zurich and Basel (where he paid tribute to Holbein).


The second voyage (1816-1821)

Ten years later, Carl Friedrich was back in Italy. Meanwhile, Europe had been devastated by the Napoleonic wars. He had spent most of the period in Bavaria, near the beloved mountains and especially in a part of Germany that in his opinion was the most similar in temperament to Italy [119].  Since von Rumohr - as explained in the first chapter of this section, entitled Veranlassung (the reason, the occasion) - had great nostalgia of Italy [120]. Indeed, in those years, von Rumohr felt out of place in Germany: "I definitely lacked a point of reference for life and activity" [121]. He then began to work on literature, more out of boredom than out of conviction, perhaps looking for new interests.

Fig. 37) Heinrich Meyer, Oedipus solves the riddle of the sphinx, 1789. S
ource: https://archive.org/stream/zeichnungenvonjo00meye#page/n29/mode/2up
Fig. 38) Heinrich Meyer, Portrait of Goethe, 1795.
Source: https://archive.org/stream/zeichnungenvonjo00meye#page/n31/mode/2up

The instance to travel again to Italy presented itself when, in the neoclassical art circles of Weimar animated by the Swiss painter and art critic Heinrich Meyer [122] (1760-1832), von Rumohr knew Franz Horny, a young artist (1798-1824) who was severely sick with tuberculosis. Despite the disease, Horny wanted to go to Rome to study with Joseph Anton Koch; he hoped, in fact, that the Mediterranean climate might alleviate his lung problems (instead, he died at the age of 26 in Olevano). Carl Friedrich decided to accompany him to Italy, considering him a great talent, while seeing in him all the symptoms of a completely wrong education to art, based on the infinite re-copying of the old masters, and therefore destined to weaken the artist's creative ability [123]. He hoped that a stay in Italy would liberate Horny’s talents from all the false barriers created by the Weimar aesthetics. The young painter friend did not know indeed how to paint from life and even revealed himself unable to get inspired by the splendid panorama of the Alps and the vegetation surrounding Lake Garda [124]. Also after he had arrived in Rome, despite the contacts with the German artists of the place, and numerous attempts to adopt different styles, he never adjusted to the use of the colour and only worked on drawings. His incapacity to be a true painter, despite his talents, was one of the reasons for von Rumohr to reflect several times in the Three journeys on the damage inflicted by the Weimar aesthetics school on the contemporary art, a theme already mentioned and amply discussed in the first part of this post [125].

Fig. 39) Franz Horny, Olevano Landscape, 1822

Once again, Carl Friedrich crossed - we are in the second chapter - the Alps, making also a trip to Arco and on the shores of Lake Garda. The third chapter narrated the transfer from there to Florence via Bologna (where the two admired the Santa Cecilia of Raphael, which had been returned by French authorities in 1815, and just exposed in the new Art Gallery, as well as a few unidentified works by Marcantonio Franceschini [126]). The winter stay in Florence was aggravated by "famine, plague, and fatal diseases" in the city [127]. In May 1816 he finally reached Rome, after ten years of absence, as narrated in the fourth chapter, whose very title specified the unique character of the new stay in Italy: "Return to Rome. Archival research."

Arrived in Rome, von Rumohr discovered major changes in the artistic world of German artists who were lived there. The classicists had, in fact, been joined by the Nazarenes: "The change that occurred in this little world, where the artistic endeavours of all the European nations had sought and found a meeting point for several centuries, was incredible. There had been a rift between the viewpoints of the artists, and new tensions were born, even if the parties had never ceased to mutually recognize their merits. I was surprised by the fertility of the true talents of these times" [128].

Fig. 40) Peter von Cornelius, Joseph interprets the Pharaoh's dreams, Cycle of Frescoes of the Casa Bartholdy, 1816-1817

His attention was attracted by the fresco cycle of the Casa Bartholdy in Palazzo Zuccari [129], one of the founding art works of the Nazarenes, now shown at the Alte Nationalgalerie in Berlin. The work was performed in those years, from 1815 to 1817: "And in fact the famous room in the house of the Consul General of Prussia was already partly completed and partly still being finished. They were the first pictures in fresco in a long time, since the frescoes painted in this technique, in southern Germany and even in Italy since 1700, testified indeed technical skills, but were too devoid of content to be still the subject of attention" [130]. And he focused in particular on a design by Overbeck for the cycle, depicting a Hail Mary [131].

Von Rumohr spent the summer in Rome and then returned to Florence, a city that he had actually quite neglected so far. There he had a second revelation. "After a year of different pleasures and pains I started a job that provided me later the material for a variety of studies" [132]. It was the beginning of Carl Friedrich’s interest for art history sources; he said that already in the previous winter (the one passed in Florence during the plague) he had browsed Vasari’s Lives and used them as a yardstick for the artworks he was visiting and observing, discovering however that the very celebrated artist-writer missed "criticism, memory and even the will to adapt to the historical truth" [133]. Subsequent critics who "have promised the world to improve and complete it" were not been able to find "stable reference points from which to observe and study the art as a whole" [134] and had proven themselves "not as accurate and reliable as you should expect from correctors. Only in recent times we have seen an improvement" [135].

"It was time to take an initiative, and for that I dived in the Archives of the Opera del Duomo in Florence. I was not given access to the scrolls, but to some hundreds of bound books in the stores. Enough to try and enough to practise. The books were starting from the year 1300" [136]. Rumohr examined all protocols on the discussions preparing and accompanying the construction of the Cathedral and all notary contracts with the artists between 1430 and 1480 [137]. He then moved to the archive of the Brotherhood of Mercy [138]. He helped himself by having recourse to the "Ancient and Modern Florence Illustrated", an eight-tome encyclopaedic history of Florence curated a few years earlier by V. Follini and M. Rastrelli [139].

Fig. 41) The first volume of Ancient and Modern Florence Illustrated of 1789

Then, when the Florentine archivists made his life difficult, preventing him from having free access to the riformagioni (the city deliberations), he moved to Siena where he was given access to the archives of the financial administration [140].

It was an activity of frantic searching, which would give life to the first two volumes of the Italian Investigations ten years later, i.e. in 1827.

It was the first attempt to write a history of Italian art in the German world, basing it on documentary data and not on literary grounds. And yet, looking retrospectively, Carl Friedrich wrote in the Three Journeys: "I'm not satisfied with what I did, and I have the impression of having achieved more in my observation activities and direct visual study of the works (of which I can glory in the field of art), than with what I did with the use of documentary material. In this regard, I should have overcome my inhibitions and imposed my presence in the archives who resisted, if necessary operating intrusively or even resorting to corruption. In short, I was happier with myself than I have been diligent. After all, if I could not make public many new items of information, at least the ones that I brought to light were good and important. And finally, please do not believe that the 'Investigations' give an idea of all my work, since I had to take into account the necessity of the measure" [141].

In Siena, he was also able to acquire original parchment documents, which were sold on the public square by a certain B. Montini, an antiques dealer who had acquired them on the cheap from the archives of the Carmelites, taking advantage of the Napoleonic seizures. They were original diplomas of popes and emperors, medieval codes of Livy and other documents which he delivered to the Berlin court Library [142].

But it would be wrong to think that von Rumohr had retreated into the world of archives and thus has severed all connections with reality. In one of his frequent trips to Rome he animated a discussion with the Prussian Ambassador Niebuhr on the economic differences between the north and the south of Italy. The theme is the historical reason of the difference between sharecropping (Colonia partiaria) in the north of Italy and large estates in the south of the peninsula. Niebuhr's thesis was that sharecropping had a Germanic origin (sors barbarica), and was therefore a historical remnant of the presence of northern European populations in Italy, while Carl Friedrich’s answer had a political and economic nature: "In the age of democratically governed municipal organizations, market forces push the farmers to own land; where instead capitalists operate, they bare them from land possession, if ever there was" [143]. It was a very daring opinion for his time and the ambassador invited him, almost as a challenge, to document it. It was the origin of the studies that von Rumohr pursued for years on the issue of agricultural economics and which would justify his later fourth trip to Italy to examine the cropping and irrigation systems of Lombardy, years after the publication of the Three journeys in 1832.

Fig. 42) Franz Horny, Italian landscape with decorative figures, 1822

The fifth chapter (entitled "The Death of Horny. Brigands") was dedicated to the fate of his younger friend. In Rome, Horny studied with Joseph Anton Koch, helped Peter Cornelius in the frescoes of the Villa Massimo [144], and made great progress, despite never being able to get entirely free from the pencil drawing and starting to properly paint [145]. His health did nothing but worsen [146] and the two moved to Olevano [147], where they could enjoy a better climate, but were exposed to the risk of local banditry, to which several pages are devoted, including a kidnapping of which Carl Friedrich was a victim (he managed to escape and thus to save his live by way of sheer fortune) [148]. Horny remained in Olevano even when von Rumohr decided to return to Germany in 1821. The young failed painter died there years later in 1824.

The last chapter on the second journey was centred on the visits which Carl Friedrich received from high-ranking delegations from Germany and Denmark (Landmannschaften – curiously, the same term used today for national soccer teams). To accompany personalities in visits in Italy meant to have a source of income and to gain valuable knowledge. Particularly successful was the meeting with the Crown Prince of Denmark, Christian Frederic (the future King Christian VIII) and his wife Caroline Amalie, with whom von Rumohr maintained relationships throughout life. In fact, he decided to return to Northern Europe to enjoy their favours.


The third journey (1828-1829)

The reasons underlying the third journey were not entirely different from those of the second. On the one hand, von Rumohr still considered the German academic culture on art as unbearable, on the other one he wanted to complete his studies in Italy to prepare a new volume of the "Italian Investigations", this time on Raphael. The opportunity to return came as he was teaching another young artist, Friedrich Nerly (1807-1878), of whom he had became a tutor in 1823 (when Nerly was still sixteen). Five years later he decided to accompany him to Italy, once again to hide a talented young painter from the vices of German aesthetics.

Fig. 43) Christian Dietrich, Waterfalls near Rome, 1750

The first chapter presented Carl Friedrich in the new activities as tutor of young artists (the title was Künstlerbildung, namely the education of artists); Rumohr admitted, however, that, in this regard, his activity had not been successful [149], with the exception of Friedrich Nerly. He had experimented a new method of teaching with him, based on colour and composition [150]. It was a practical technical teaching, an alternative to the academic one and inspired by the way in which fine arts had been taught in the past in artists' studios. In fact, with the disappearance of the apprenticeship [151] - he wrote – either a painter had to learn alone (exposing himself to the risks of self-taught education [152]), or was forced to make use of the academies, with considerable disburse of money [153] and no result [154]. The most successful painters like Balthasar Denner, Christian Dietrich (also called Dietricy) and Anton Raphael Mengs had in fact all studied with relatives. A practical man like Carl Friedrich could not but observe that the market prices of the painters between 1700 and 1800 were very low: "It is an uncomfortable reality, which can be explained only by making the causal hypothesis that such a vast effort has not led to anything but to perpetuate wrong avenues, that otherwise would have probably died alone for lack of new followers" [155].

The second chapter explained the "Original intentions and the subsequent change of the travel plan" (Ursprüngliche Bestimmung und spätere Abänderung des Reiseplanes). In origin the goal was to accompany Nerly in Italy, in the full understanding of "his growing desire of thrilling impressions, which every artist seeks and finds in Italy", but also of the need for him "not only to learn, but above all to gain freedom and autonomy" [156]. Yet Carl Friedrich was convinced that "we cannot dare to give a young person to himself without any transition [157]".

Fig. 44) Thomas Richmond (?), Portrait of Christian Karl von Bunsen, 1847, etching

But there was actually a third reason which was about to become prevalent: the tight collaboration with the Prussian authorities to feed the Berlin Museum, which was growing by the day. Carl Friedrich was a frequent traveller to Berlin to follow the progress of the art collection. He discovered there numerous fakes or works of school, often sold as masterpieces of the great masters. Not surprisingly, the Prussian administration contacted him, through Christian Karl von Bunsen (1791-1860), the new ambassador in Rome, asking him to pass judgment on a painting which was located in Florence and which the government wanted to acquire for the Berlin collection [158]. In Florence, the reference point for art trade negotiations with Germany was Johann Baptist Metzger (1771-1844), an engraver and art dealer, active for decades in Tuscany, and very close to the Nazarenes. It is perhaps worth noting here that this story demonstrates the political importance of art transactions in that time. Many of the Prussian ambassadors in Rome in those years were – besides being diplomats – also scholars. The already named Niebuhr, with whom Carl Friedrich had exchanged opinions on sharecropping and large estates during the second trip, assumed later on the chair of ancient art history at the Bonn University. Bunsen, who replaced him, was a famous Egyptologist. Evidently for the Berlin authorities the Rome diplomatic representation had a great role in the management of cultural relations.

Fig. 45) Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld, Portrait of Johann Baptist Metzger, 1819
Fig. 46) Raffaello, Tempi Madonna, 1508

Carl Friedrich quickly realized that Metzger had many pieces which would complement the Berlin collection [159]; one of the most important, the Tempi Madonna by Raphael [160], had already been sold by him to the ruling family of Bavaria (it is still today at the Alte Pinakothek in Munich). He had therefore to hurry. He was authorized by the king to make the purchases he suggested [161].

Fig. 47) Sandro Botticelli, Madonna with Child and John the Baptist as child in prayer, undated
Fig. 48) Sandro Botticelli, Christ the Saviour, undated (photo: Christoph Schmidt / SMB)

He was able to get his hands on a Botticelli (the round "Madonna and Child with John the Baptist child in prayer"), which he added thereby as second work of the Tuscan painter in the Berlin collection after the "Christ the Saviour" which was there since 1821 thanks to the acquisition of the collection of the Englishman Solly. Once again encouraged by Bunsen, Carl Friedrich turned to the Marquis Nerli, the heir to an ancient Florentine family of the Guelph side [162], while the Crown Prince himself came from Berlin to follow the events [163]. Von Rumohr acted as his guide for four days, explaining that he "knows the city better than many Florentine" [164], and also accompanied him in Siena and Arezzo [165].

He was in Siena (where he conducted his beloved archival research) and was preparing to leave for Rome and Naples, when the Prussian administration contacted him again: the Crown Prince had just seen in Milan a painting attributed to Raphael. As it was in poor conditions, the prince wanted to obtain the opinion of an expert before purchasing it. Carl Friedrich left immediately for Milan despite the difficult weather conditions (it was difficult to travel with snow at that time) [166] and came to the conclusion that it was a minor Lombard. But he discovered the works of Sebastiano del Piombo, Titian and Moroni, and came to the conclusion that Lombardy was a very rich and unexplored mine for the Berlin art collection. At that point he got a letter from Alexander von Humboldt himself, giving him the mandate to buy as much as possible for the Berlin collection, before the arrival of competitors [167]. And this is the reason why, instead of travelling south, his third journey went across Northern Italy.

Here opens the section of the third journey covered by Chiara Battezzati in her 2009 essay on "Carl Friedrich von Rumohr and art in northern Italy"  [168]. They were the final twenty-five pages of the Three journeys, in reality not a travel narration, but a thick catalogue of inspected works, whether selected for purchase or discarded. Von Rumohr lose any view of Nerly and instead his diary took the tone of a very precise description of the works available at the Lombard nobility. The catalogue stopped abruptly with the arrival in Venice, almost as if to continue it in a so art-rich city was excessively time-consuming. I am referring to this section to relevant post already published in the blog.


NOTES

[67] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien: Erinnerungen. Leipzig, F. A. Brockhaus, 1832, 327 pages. The text is available on the Internet at
[68] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 69.

[69] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 74-77.

[70] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 78-80.

[71] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 82.

[72] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 82.

[73] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 70.

[74] See: Herzog, Erich, Goethes Spuren in Kassels Gelerien (The traces of Goethe in Kassel galleries), speech delivered on January 1, 1978. Text available at: http://goethe-gesellschaft-kassel.org/data/documents/1978_Herzog_Spuren-Goethes-in-Kassels-Galerien.pdf .

[75] See the fiche of the Kassel Gallery at: http://altemeister.museum-kassel.de/32719/.

[76] Marx, Friedrich - Über die Caritas des Leonardo da Vinci in der Kurfürstlichen Galerie zu Cassel : mit einer Photographie und vier Textabbildungen, Bonn, In Kommission bei L. Roehrscheid, 1915. The text is available at the internet address: 
http://digital.slub-dresden.de/werkansicht/dlf/16253/?tx_dlf%5Bpointer%5D=0&cHash=a341840c2ac9646dd1e5df0a1415bef7.

[77] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 85.

[78] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 156.

[79] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 99.

[80] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 94.

[81] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 94.

[82] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 94.

[83] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 95.

[84] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 103.

[85] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 103.

[86] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 106.

[87] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 106-107.

[88] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 107.

[89] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 108.

[90] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 109.

[91] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 110.

[92] Pieter van Laer, said Bamboccio (1599–1642).

[93] Claude Lorrain (1600-1682).

[94] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 111-112.

[95] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 112.

[96] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 113.

[97] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 115.

[98] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 115-116.

[99] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 116.

[100] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 116.

[101] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 116.

[102] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 117.

[103] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 117.

[104] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 128-129.

[105] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 139-142.

[106] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 126-127.

[107] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 136.

[108] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 136-137.

[109] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 143.

[110] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 146.

[111] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 151.

[112] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 155.

[113] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 156.

[114] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 156.

[115] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 158.

[116] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 160.

[117] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 160.

[118] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 160.

[119] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 165-166.

[120] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 167.

[121] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 176.

[122] Heinrich Meyer also had a very important role in the art literature of his time. Consider, for example, his "History of fine arts among the Greeks from their origins to their highest summit" (Geschichte der Künste bildenden bei den Griechen: von ihrem Ursprunge bis zum höchsten Flor) published by Walterschen Hofbuchhandlung in Dresden in 1824. The text, of 519 pages, is available at 
https://archive.org/stream/meyersgeschicht00meyegoog#page/n2/mode/2up.

[123] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 172-173.

[124] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 190-191.

[125] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 192-194.

[126] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 196.

[127] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 197.

[128] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 197.

[129] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 198.

[130] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 198.

[131] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 198.

[132] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 198.

[133] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 199.

[134] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 199.

[135] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 199.

[136] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 199-200.

[137] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 200.

[138] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 200.

[139] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 200. This is the work in eight volumes “Firenze antica, e moderna illustrate” (Ancient and modern Florece illustrated) edited by V. Follini and M Rastrelli, published by P. Allegrini, J. Grazioli, A.G. Pagani between 1789 and 1802.

[140] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 200.

[141] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 201.

[142] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 202.

[143] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 203.

[144] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 206-207.

[145] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 208.

[146] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 205.

[147] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 212.

[148] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 241-218.

[149] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 246.

[150] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), pp. 248-250.

[151] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 237.

[152] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 238.

[153] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 239.

[154] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 239.

[155] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 239.

[156] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 258.

[157] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 258.

[158] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 259.

[159] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 260.

[160] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 261.

[161] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 261.

[162] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 266.

[163] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 267.

[164] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 267.

[165] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 267.

[166] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 273.

[167] von Rumohr, Carl Friedrich - Drey Reisen nach Italien… 1832 (quoted), p. 281.

[168] See: Chiara Battezzati, Carl Friedrich von Rumohr and Art in Northern Italy.


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