Translation by Francesco Mazzaferro
CLICK HERE FOR ITALIAN VERSION
Federico Borromeo
Musaeum. La Pinacoteca Ambrosiana nelle memorie del suo fondatore.
[Musaeum. The Ambrosiana Gallery in the memoirs of its founder]
Edited by Piero Cigada. With a commentary bu Gianfranco Ravasi
Milan, Claudio Gallone editore, 1997
Review by Giovanni Mazzaferro
![]() |
Caravaggio, Basket of Fruit, about 1599, Milan, Ambrosiana Gallery Source: user:Lafit86 via Wikimedia Commons |
From doctrine to
personal taste
Federico Borromeo published the Musaeum (in Latin) in 1625, one year
after De pictura sacra. The same
considerations as those concerning his previous work also apply here: its circulation
was very limited and the print edition should be seen as a mere ‘fair copy' of
previous materials, some of which were discarded by the Cardinal himself, but
retrieved recently. This is the case of a collection of preparatory notes
traced in Borromeo’s papers and recently published by Alessandro Rovetta [1].
When Borromeo wrote his volume, formally the artworks did not belong to him
anymore. In 1618, in fact, he had officially donated them to the Ambrosiana
Gallery (Pinacoteca Ambrosiana), the third step of a structure
that the Cardinal had been setting up since ten years: in 1607 he founded the
Ambrosiana Library (Biblioteca Ambrosiana,
inaugurated in 1609), in 1613 he planned the creation of an Academy of the
Drawing (Accademia del Disegno, which began its - to say the truth,
very short-lived - courses in 1620). Hereby Borromeo completed the set-up of a
didactic pole entirely inspired by him.
Probably because of the highly limited circulation,
Musaeum's fortune was actually poor. It
was so already at the time of the Cardinal’s life, but also later on. While
there were new releases (1754, 1909, 1987), all of them remained limited in
circulation, almost intentionally, as in the 1987 version, edited by Piero
Cigada, and printed by the publishing house Philobyblon in 130 numbered copies only
and destined to an array of fine palate bibliophiles, more like a curiosity
than anything else. This 1997 issue resumed that of ten years before (so much
so that it included Cigada's notes, updated by the same). While it aimed at reaching
out a wider audience, also thanks to a nice introduction by Msgr. Giancarlo
Ravasi, the objective was only partially achieved. Finally, the Musaeum was consecrated internationally by
the 2010 edition of the I Tatti
Renaissance Library [2].
In fact, the Musaeum was an exceptional piece of work. It offer us the
possibility to reflect on the taste and critical skills of the Cardinal, who
here was 'freed' from the doctrinal constraints of De pictura sacra and could act as a fine art collector. Borromeo
himself explained the reasons behind the writing, at the very beginning of the
text: "Not long ago I was looking over the paintings, casts, and statues that I recently had installed in the Ambrosian Library - the building was constructed for precisely that purpose - when two learned friends approached and quietly suggested that it would be a handsome and graceful accomplishment if the entire collection of artistic masterpieces could be written up and published" [3] (page 3). The work was intended for
students of the Academy. Borromeo himself, speaking of some paintings commissioned
to Antonio Mariani as copies from Raphael's originals, wrote: "They will be useful to students, no less so than the others that Antonio Mariani copied from originals by Raphael. If students want to be diligent in copying them, having these copies is tantamount to placing the original works of Raphael before their eyes" (p. 51).
![]() |
Luini's Heirs (or Bernardino Luini), Holy Family with St. Anne and a young St. John, Milan, Ambrosiana Library Source: The Yorck Project via Wikimedia Commons |
Artworks between ekphrasis
and copying
The didactic intent is evident; yet equally
striking is a (very human) sense of satisfaction for the collection Federico had
managed to put together (and, on several occasions, the text even mentioned the
exorbitant price of some works), combined with a sense of protecting and
safeguarding art to the benefit of posterity. Indeed, it was an aspect we have
already encountered in the De pictura
sacra about the testimonies of the first Christianity. In that work the Cardinal spoke of the enormous
amount of works of Greek and Roman antiquity which had been destroyed, and was
pleased that their existence was in some way preserved by Pliny and his Naturalis Historia. Once again, I think
it is crucial to take account of Pliny’s influence on the European scholarly
world of those years, the true common factor of every writing on the art world
of the time. Borromeo told us: "This loss, however [note of the editor: of the antique artworks], can at least be made good by the diligence of writers; a calamity this great can be remedied by the pen. As a result, it seems that outstanding works of art that were distroyed many years ago still live on in the eyes of mankind and have not yet completely disappeared. Writers have been so successful at restoring individual features and brush strokes that they have, in effect, brought about a remarkable contest between the pen and the paintbrush (or chisel). The outcome of this contest is fortunate sincce people are left to wonder which side should be victorious: the pen or the brush" (p. 5). In itself, it was a praise of the
ekphrastic practice and a new submission on what we could consider, in some way,
as integral part of the "ut pictura
poesis", i.e. the ‘as is
painting so is poetry’ theme.
With a difference: while Pliny almost always described
works he had not seen, Borromeo confronted himself directly with the art-work.
Whatever the praise of the writers' abilities, Borromeo warned that the visual
dimension was indispensable, and therefore gave particular importance to the
practice of the copies: "I will point out [...] that human affairs are exceedingly unstable and that anything can collapse into ruin in all too brief a moment. Thus people of all kinds should have hoped that, just as transcribed copies of ancient books have survived to the present day, so too if copies of famous paintings had been made and had survived, the hard work of earlier men could have benefited subsequent generations" (pp. 19-21). For this reason, Borromeo did
not hesitate to collect copies of masterpieces, and even promoted the execution
of new replicas, whenever originals were in such a serious state of decay that
one could imagine their probable and imminent destruction. The Cardinal
therefore did not argue in terms of ensuring the restoration of the originals,
but of fostering cultural transmission through a perfect copy, intended to
replace the original. The examples in the Musaeum
were numerous and famous: from the Last Supper of Leonardo to the Sybils of Raphael
in Santa Maria della Pace, but I would like to point out in particular to the
replica of Correggio’s La Zingarella (The
gypsy girl), whose original, very ruined, is today at the Museum of Capodimonte
in Naples: "This [note of
the editor: the painting] was also copied by one of the Carraccis. I have seen the original at Parma, and it is so worn and damaged that I believe it will soon be lost forever. The artist himself sabotaged the glory of his own work by showing the Virgin as a Gipsy swindler , which was a clear breach of decorum” (p.
25). At least in this circumstance, the importance of cultural testimony came
first and decorum only second. If he had had to evaluate the issue with the
same parameters as in the De pictura
sacra, Borromeo would
not have made any copy of the work, since it had no Christian decorum. Here,
however, he felt a kind of 'moral duty' to those who would come after him: it
did not take shape in the form of a restoration (a concept which the Cardinal
never mentioned), but precisely of the faithful reproduction of the painting.
The taste of an art collector
![]() |
Titian, Adoration of the Magi, about 1559-1560, Milan, Ambrosiana Gallery Source: http://donfrancesco.blogspot.it/2012/12/lo-sguardo-del-padre-negli-occhi-di.html |
Having said this, it is logical and natural
that, while commenting on the paintings at the Ambriosana Gallery, Borromeo used
criteria such as likeness to nature and decorum. The Cardinal's taste was
certainly different from that of our days and therefore inevitably led to
assessments that may make us think of a man unable to recognize the 'beautiful'
(while, simply, the 'beautiful' of his age was different from ours). Caravaggio’s
Basket of Fruit was thus praised, but
in Borromeo’s very personal hierarchy it is no doubt that it came after the
works of Jan Brueghel the Elder. Nevertheless, the judgments expressed by
Federico are always interesting and testify a knowledge going beyond amateurism
and reaching technical aspects. One might perhaps even say that this was
precisely the reason why the Cardinal (who was observing the pictures, physically
hanging ahead of him) somewhat violated the eckphrastic spirit of Pliny, whom he
said to have assumed as a model. The first judgment devoted to Titian‘s Adoration
of the Magi contained some lightning lines: "Titian employed his distinctive artistic technique in painting landscapes and it is here that you can see how good an artist he really was. For example, where the horizon of the land and edge of the sky, or mountains peaks and the edge of fields, blend together in un a blur, he deliberatelty left nothing but varnish on the canvas and did not paint in any color. The result is the creation of an optical illusion, as when the eyes, staring at something too far away, are deceived and wander off. Thus Titian created an impressionistic effect, not in the laborious and uneasy way artists do today, but my mixing together and combining the painter's raw materials themselves, including the pictorial field, the varnish, the canvas, and certain natural colors. All these things, in their proper role, belong to great artistic skill" (pp. 9-11). I would like to
point out that the Italian version (as opposed to the English one) highlights
the negative judgment of the techniques of "our other painters" (“penosa”…”cerebrale”). Personally I am convinced that
this was not the case. Simply,
Borromeo indicated that Titian was able to do with great fluency and freedom of
gesture what for others was extremely laborious. It is difficult to think
(apart from Leonardian inspirations) that a learned man as Borromeo might have
ignored at this moment the discussions on the aerial perspective, typical of
the Lombard world (starting with Lomazzo). Without coming instead to the automatic
conclusion that he knew the (unpublished) writings on the perspective of
distances and colours by Accolti or Matteo Zaccolini, it is clear that the
Cardinal was reflecting on one of the most debated themes in those years.
![]() |
Paul Brill, Forest andscape with a marsh, about 1595, Milan, Ambrosiana Gallery Source: Web Gallery of Art via Wikimedia Commons |
Landscape and still life
Reading the Musaeum,
one of the most striking aspects is the lack of formalization of a painting
hierarchy that proceeds from (essentially religious) history painting to
landscape, and from there to still life and portrait. One can say that the room
dedicated to portraiture in the writing was reduced, but only because it was
abruptly interrupted when Borromeo was giving the floor to one of his
collaborators (we do not know for sure who he was), who was responsible for
dealing with the long series of portraits specifically commissioned by
Borromeo. In this sense, therefore, it can be said that the work is incomplete.
![]() |
Jan Brueghel the Elder, Mouse, Roses and a Butterfly, Milan, Ambrosiana Gallery Source: http://www.storiadimilano.it/repertori/cronologia_federigo/cronologia_federigo.htm |
Instead, the space reserved for landscaping
and, more generally, Flemish painting is really impressive, revealing the great
love that the Cardinal (especially in the Roman years) nourished above all for
two art makers: the aforementioned Jan Brueghel and Paul Brill. On Brueghel, he
praised his ability to produce paintings of a very small size but still characterized
by excellent performances. In this respect, it is symptomatic that the
collector still had the upper hand over the moralist and so quoted the Passion
of Christ ("Several works in the same frame are by Jan Brueghel; he painted them in miniature, in fact the smallest dimensions possibile, yet they encompass almost everything that is a magnificent and outstanding in art, and as a consequence you can admire grandeur and subtlety simultaneously" -
see pp. 25-27) but also a (famous) drawing on parchment: "I note that Brueghel painted on parchment a mouse with some stems of roses and insects. I wanted to call particular attention to this parchment and make it known that its value can rest on the fact that even the mice in it are enjoyable to look at" (p. 31).
This is how Borromeo stated that often true "battles" (obviously in a
metaphorical sense) were fought between paintings of the same author. One of
these battles is right between two wreaths of flowers painted by Brueghel, one
exhibited in the first room of the Gallery ("...a garland composed of an abundant variety of flowers which you might prefer to call a triumphal arch rather than a garland, standing as it does on the same level. Little birds settle on the flowers, and the flowers themselves are exotic species since the artist was not content with native ones"-
see pp.
25-27) The other was in
a subsequent room ("Butterflies flutter about, the grass is conspicuously green, and mussel shells lie scattered on the ground, because of which any other painting would be sold at an exorbitant price. I much prefer these flowers, bursting forth from the vase, to [the second flower painting], a garland of flowers of the same artist that, as I pointed out, is located in the first room of the Musaeum"- see pp. 41-43).
![]() |
Jan Brueghel the Elder, Flowers in a Vase, 1606, Ambrosiana Gallery Source: https://piccolacriticadarte.wordpress.com/2012/04/26/186/ |
Borromeo and Mancini
There would be multifold reasons to write
further about the Musaeum and the artworks
mentioned by Borromeo. I would like to conclude, however, by referring to the
work of the Cardinal in relation to the rules presented by Giulio Mancini in
his Considerazioni sulla pittura (Considerations on Painting) for
placing and preserving paintings. The two texts seem somewhat to be one the counterpoint
of the other. They were essentially written in the same years, the first in
Milan and the second in Rome. However - as it is well-known - Borromeo lived at
least ten years in Rome at the end of the sixteenth century (so, he purchased
in Rome many of his works) and one can assume that the taste of the two was
somewhat overlapping. With a difference: Mancini wrote to propose himself as
'curator' of a noble collection, Borromeo was the 'noble' collector.
Potentially, Borromeo was the recipient of the advice and the rules proposed by
Mancini. In concrete, the question is: were the criteria with which the
Cardinal set up the Ambrosiana Gallery the same as those proposed by Mancini? It
is hard to say. Borromeo wrote that "the organization of this book will simply follow the arrangement of the paintings, yet this arrangement is only what has been shaped by opportunity, the requirements of space, or some other accident" (p.7). Mancini suggested instead
a more structured arrangement, in which different environments corresponded to
different types of works (from lascivious paintings in private apartments to
blazons and coats of arms in representation rooms). Only if there was
opportunity (and space), Mancini proposed to set up a gallery where the
paintings were arranged according to the subjects, the colouring, the school to
which they belonged and the historical moment. It seems however that Borromeo’s
set up resulted in a greater pragmatism than Mancini’s suggestions. It should also be
said that Mancini also recommended to alternate between paintings of different
schools, but of the same time, not only for the benefit of a variety breaking
the monotony of the set-up, but also to give the spectator a chance to make
comparisons. It is perhaps worth mentioning that Borromeo spoke of two
"violent battles" in his gallery: the first (we saw it) was between
two Bruegel garlands in different rooms, but the second was the contrast
between a Magdalen by Titian and one of Luini (inspired by a Leonardo drawing),
which were hanging side by side. The principle of comparison between works
therefore seemed to be followed by the Cardinal.
Apart from the similarities and differences, it
is evident that both writers were extremely sophisticated men of culture. In
particular, in the case of Borromeo, the pedantic theologian of De pictura sacra seems to have been
happily replaced by a humanist Catholic of much wider views.
NOTES
[1] Alessandro Rovetta, "Gli appunti del Cardinale. Note inedite di
Federico Borromeo per il Musaeum” (The records of the Cardinal. Unpublished notes by Federico Borromeo
for the Musaeum) in: Annali di critica d’arte, No 2, 2006, pp. 105-142. The description of
the folder containing the notes is ms. G 310 inf., ins. 40, ff. 11r-13v.
(n. 30).
[2] Federico Borromeo, Sacred Painting -
Museum, Edited and translated by Kenneth S. Rothwell, Jr. with Introduction and
Notes by Pamela M. Jones. Cambridge (MA) and London, Harvard University Press,
2010.
[3] The text of all the quotation is taken from the English translation by Kenneth S. Rothwell Jr.
Nessun commento:
Posta un commento