Pagine

lunedì 4 settembre 2017

Marta P. Cacho Casal. [Francisco Pacheco and his 'Book of Portraits']. Part One


Translation by Francesco Mazzaferro
CLICK HERE FOR ITALIAN VERSION

Marta P. Cacho Casal
Francisco Pacheco y su Libro de retratos

[Francisco Pacheco and his Book of Portraits]

Siviglia-Madrid, Fundación Focus-Abengoa and Marcial Pons Ediciones, 2011

Review by Giovanni Mazzaferro. Part One

Fig. 1) The front-cover of the book

Francisco Pacheco (1564-1644) is best known for his Arte de la pintura (Art of Painting, released posthumously in 1649), which has already been thoroughly reviewed on this blog. In fact, it is well known that the main works of the artist and literate born in Sanlúcar – a few miles far from Seville – are two. To the Arte de la pintura one should add the Libro de retratos (Book of Portraits), which is much less known for a number of reasons. First of all, the book was never published (and - as we shall see - it probably was not even intended for printing). The manuscript of the Book of Portraits was well known to contemporaries: Vicente Carducho praised it in his Dialogues on Painting (1633). Moreover, it was so dear to Pacheco that, five years before his death, while extending his will, he instructed the heirs that it should be sold in its entireness without dispersing the pages. Nevertheless, the manuscript of the Libro de retratos and, with it, the memory of its existence went soon lost. Palomino, the author of the Vidas in the early eighteenth century, which led many to call him as the 'Spanish Vasari', did not know its contents. In 1864, the text was rediscovered by a Spanish scholar specialised on Cervantes, the literate José María Asensio (1829-1905). However, he let it publish only in different instalments between 1881 and 1884 in a edition which was conceived as a facsimile (see https://archive.org/stream/BRes140079/libroDeDescripcion#page/n0/mode/2up), but was not completely free of flaws. José Lázaro Galdiano bought it from Asensio’s heirs in the early twentieth century, and from him the work went to the library of the Fundacio Lázaro Galdiano, established in 1948, where it is still preserved. Nevertheless, one had to wait for the 1980s, when Spain started opening up after Franco’s isolationism, before the book was finally reprinted (I have at hand in this library also the 1983 edition with the prologue of Diego Angulo, published by Prevision Española, which was also referred to by Marta P. Cacho Casal in her work). It is worth noting that all of this consists of facsimile editions, and not critical ones. There is, to this day, no critical edition of the work, which is therefore much warranted. In 2011 Marta P. Cacho Casal published this book, which undoubtedly represents an extraordinary step forward for the knowledge of the text in critical terms, also because it happily includes in the appendix a precious index of the names contained in the manuscript at the Galdiano Foundation. Moreover, it should be remembered that the knowledge on Pacheco outside the Spanish world is fairly limited, since none of his writings has ever been translated into any other language, with the exception of a French edition of the Art of Painting by Lauriane Fallay d'Este in 1986 (new editions in 2001 and 2010).

Fig. 2) The front-cover of the 1983 edition of Pacheco's Libro de retratos 

A manuscript volume 

The complete title of Pacheco's work, as it is from his highly expanded title page, was Libro de descripción de verdaderos retratos de ilustres y memorables varones [Book describing the true portraits of illustrious and memorable men]. A lot has been discussed about the intentions of the Andalusian artist. It was argued, in particular, that, as in the case of Art of Painting, Pacheco did not succeed in achieving the printing of his work. Actually, Ms Cacho Casal's thesis (which I find convincing) is that this was a typical example (far more widespread than one would think) of a book-manuscript, or a manuscript that, formally, presents all the lay-out features of a printed book (so much so that it can be mistakenly seen as its 'last stage' before publication), but however is not aimed at being printed. A few elements suggest this hypothesis: the text, with its in-folio format, presents 56 'true' portraits (we will go back to this point) of 'illustrious men'. They are not engravings, but 56 original drawings by Pacheco, in black and red pencils, and retouched with sepia coloured gouache. The author points out that translating the drawings into prints would have required a large financial investment; it would have also required a technical know-how which both Pacheco and his associates in Sevilla lacked. The book, moreover, did not include a dedication, so that one can rule out the hypothesis that a patron may have supported the enterprise. The highly accurate placement of the text itself (which was not necessary at draft level) seems to be a clear indication that no print version was foreseen: "The Libro de retratos presents the format and design of a print book, as can be appreciated by noticing the title page, the organization of the text, and other details, such as the catchwords. This attention to detail is perhaps a sufficiently conclusive indication of the fact that the painter had not planned to publish the work" (p. 118).

Fig. 3) Frontispiece and a portrait of the manuscript
Source: https://bibliotecalazarogaldiano.wordpress.com/2014/06/12/el-libro-de-retratos-en-el-450-aniversario-del-nacimiento-de-francisco-pacheco/

Portraits, praises, poetic compositions

It has just been said that 56 illustrious characters are portrayed in Pacheco's work. They were (mostly) religious men, but also humanists, soldiers, artists and musicians. The structure of each paragraph is not limited to the simple portrait, but is normally extended over four pages according to a predefined scheme. The first page was occupied almost entirely by the framed portrait, with a box indicating the name of the person in question. At the bottom of the first page it began the veritable praise of the subject, which continued in the second and third facades. The fourth page presented one or more epitaphs or poetic compositions (not all from Pacheco's hand) devoted to the praised. In their turn, the prose praise was carried out according to a repetitive scheme that can be schematized in five points: (A) rhetorical introduction; (B) family of origin and childhood; C) received education; D) personal qualities and memorable facts; E) death. "The protagonists of these portraits were famous men, most of them from Andalusia, who lived between the reigns of Philip II [note of the editor: King of Spain from 1556 to 1598] and of Philip IV [note of the editor: King from 1621 to 1665; of course, it should be recalled that Pacheco died in 1644]" (p. 118). In fact, the majority of those praised belongs to the generation directly preceding that of Pacheco, and thus to a historical moment in which Philip II was at the height of his kingdom. "The youth and part of Pacheco's adult life took place under the reign of this monarch, who died when the painter was 34 years old (...). Taking this into account, it does not seem absurd to conclude that the Book of Portraits was, in part, a tribute to Philip II and to the time of his reign" (pp. 177-78). While the standard outline is the one just described (portrait, praise, and poetic compositions), eleven portraits were an exception, either not returning the name of the displayed or the praise in prose or the poetic compositions, or none of them. It does not appear to be a case that, when the names are present, it turns out that they died after Pacheco. It seems reasonable to think that the Spanish artist and writer had a 'repertoire' of portraits to which praise and epitaphs were added only later, after the death of every single praised. 

Fig. 4) Portrait of Fernando de Herrera in Francisco Pacheco's Libro de retratos
Source: https://bibliotecalazarogaldiano.wordpress.com/2014/08/21/el-libro-de-retratos-en-el-450-aniversario-del-nacimiento-de-francisco-pacheco-ii/

How reliable is the manuscript of the Galdiano Library?

It goes without saying that the real question to the scholar is to understand whether the manuscript kept at the Lazaro Galdiano Library has reached us with or without any modifications of any kind to Pacheco’s original intentions. Ms Cacho Casal points out that it is very unlikely that the will of the artist (which - as we said – had stated in 1639 that the Book was to be sold for the benefit of the heirs but in its integrity) was respected. There are many hints at this. First of all, one should ask whether the Book had already been bound by Pacheco or whether it was made up of a series of loose leaves, which could be easily withdrew (this is especially true of the drawings, which were obviously particularly desirable). Two reasons induce us to prefer the second hypothesis: first, the artist was concerned about stating explicitly a testamentary disposition, and second, the work was most probably a ‘work in progress’, with insertions and completions at the time of the death of each portrayed. The author's own words go into the same direction: in the Art of painting (see page 164), Pacheco wrote that he had completed more than 170 black and red pencil portraits over the course of his lifetime, and had selected around hundreds characters, as they were eminent for their particular qualities. According to these words, the manuscript version that came up to us would lack 44 praises. Always in the Art of painting, some praises of characters (even of artists) are cited which do not appear in the manuscript. Needless to say, one of the great challenges of today's scholars is to reconstruct the list of disappeared praiseworthy figures (and if possible to track down the texts).

And again: the order in which the characters appear in the Galdiano manuscript appears to be quite random. The praise of King Philip II (which, according to Pacheco’s explicitly wording, was the one with which the work begins) in the manuscript is number forty-two. In the sequence of the manuscript, the praises follow each other without a precise logic, alternating among themselves characters with different ranking and background, while it is clear from the internal evidences of the praises in prose that Pacheco had a very precise sequence in mind, grouping among others religious men belonging to the same order.

Despite this overall uncertainty, then, it is possible to combine two options that have realistically good chance of being true: first, the Book of Portraits was not intended for the press; however, the book-manuscript has come to us in a manipulated version. Of course, this complicates the analysis of the text. 

Fig. 5) Portraits of Lope de Vega and Luis del Alcázar in Francisco Pacheco's Libro de retratos
Source: https://bibliotecalazarogaldiano.wordpress.com/2014/08/21/el-libro-de-retratos-en-el-450-aniversario-del-nacimiento-de-francisco-pacheco-ii/

Years for the drafting

The front-page of Pacheco’s book leaves no doubt: it was explicitly dated 1599. However, this date does not help. The material collected in the work reaches at least until 1638. One can think that the year 1599 was when the artist began to develop the idea of the manuscript, but while trying to achieve more clarity on this issue it should be clear that there are high risks of a fiasco. Internal evidence and third testimonies anticipate that date to the early 1590s (when Pacheco was little more than 25 years). In fact, Ms Cacho Casal has really failed to give a convincing answer to the problem (and this is objectively due to missing elements of information, and not to faults by the scholar). If one thinks that the work was thought to be homage to Philip II's reign, one could imagine that the title of the cover was somehow correlated with the death of the sovereign (1598). But then: why 1599 and not 1598? If anything is clear, all in all, is that the Book of Portraits was the work of a lifetime; moreover, in the case of Pacheco, the long-life works were two, evidently thought to be complementary: on the one hand, the Book of Portraits and, on the other one, the Art of Painting, as highlighted by Mr Bonaventura Bassegoda i Hugas in the critical edition of this last work.

Fig. 6) Portrait of  fray Juan Bernal in Francisco Pacheco's Libro de retratos
Source: https://www.abebooks.com/LIBRO-DESCRIPCION-VERDADEROS-RETRATOS-ILUSTRES-MEMORABLES/11967657855/bd#&gid=1&pid=3

Libro de retratos and Arte de la pintura

Here there is another problem: to understand in what relationship the Libro de retratos and the Arte de la pintura are. First of all, one preliminary consideration is due: both Mr Bassegoda and Ms Cacho Casal seem to share a somewhat 'lessened' idea of Pacheco's writings. If Mr Bassegoda did it in a more subtle way, Ms Cacho Casal more clearly interpreted his figure as a man who was not a maître à penser, but still an integral part of the Andalusian cultural and literary world. Pacheco's main merit, however, would be to make us available the ideas that circulated in those circles in the first half of the seventeenth century. This caveat is necessary, because in both the Libro de retratos and the Arte de la pintura a substantial part of the text looks like a compilation and is derived from previous sources. If in the Arte de la pintura the circumstance is immediately apparent, because the author reported to the side of the page the author he drew from (as it is well known, demonstrating a vast knowledge of Spanish and Italian art literature), the identification of the sources for the Libro de retratos is more difficult because such a type of information is missing. In this regard, Ms Cacho Casal warned: "The Libro de retratos has traditionally been regarded as a mine for bibliographic information for important Spanish authors of the 16th and 17th centuries. Consequently, scholars and historians have used and quoted fragments of this work directly, as if it were a primary source. However, Pacheco used many texts of others and information that various friends and colleagues provided him to draw up his praise" (p. 188). The task of the interpreter is, therefore, to identify the source from which the artist from Seville draws. In the specific case, it is a very ungrateful task, because, while in the case of the Arte de la Pintura the quotes are from printed works, here appear to be mostly handwritten sources, of which Pacheco turns out to be a great collector (see the paragraph Pacheco como editor y coleccionista de textos - Pacheco as editor and collector of texts, at pages 92-102).

At any rate, there are differences. The Art of Painting clearly reveals a didactic purpose, suggesting that the audience to whom Pacheco referred to was that of his fellow artists and (at most) that of the "connoisseurs". By its nature, to the contrary, the Book of Portrays praises a world that was basically formed by the preeminent figures of Andalusian society, avoiding any criticism. Almost all of the portrayed were originally from the Andalusia. When they were not - as with King Philip II - the author resorted to stratagems, arguing that the sovereign was born in Valladolid in 1527, but was conceived in Seville (see page 171). The only foreigner who deserved praise was the painter Pedro de Campaña (Peter de Kempeneer) who was considered because, while born in Brussels, he was very successful in Spain (and Andalusia). The "ideal" audience at which Pacheco aims, therefore, is probably formed by the Andalusian (and especially Sevillian) intellectual circles that collaborated with him (both in the gathering of information and in the editing of laudatory poems). This is a sort of self-representation which at certain moments takes the contours of a collective work.

After having clarified this difference, further contextual convergences may become clearer, focusing first of all on the idea of nobility of painting. It is (of course, since the writing is an artist) a theme particularly dear to Pacheco, which is therefore present in both works. In the Arte de la Pintura, the question of the nobility of painting is argued in theory and with a didactic / moralistic approach (think of the last section devoted to 'decorous' images for the art of counterreformation). In the Libro de ritratos, the nobility of painting is achieved by treating humanists, poets, literati, religious men and artists at the same level. Two different ways to support the same idea.

End of Part One

Nessun commento:

Posta un commento