rhaa6-miolo.indd

RHAA 6 181

Traduções/Translations

Power, image and archaeology:

monetary iconography and the

Roman army

Cláudio Umpierre Carlan

PhD IFCH/Unicamp

Associate researcher at Núcleo de Estudos

Estratégicos (NEE/Unicamp)

Holder of a Capes scholarship

Introduction

This paper analyzes Roman coinage

of the 4th century and its connection

with the society back then through two

perspectives: its material relevance when

used for payment of the troops and of

the provisions the empire needed, and

its symbolic meaning as showed in the

representations of the rulers and of their

administrative policies. Having this in

tention in mind we will use not only nu

mismatic sources, but also written and

archaeological ones, all belonging to

this period. Because of lack of space, we

will deal only with some coins from the

tetrarchy period (285-305), when more

than 300 types were coined

The coins used in this research belong

to the National Historical Museum, in

Rio de Janeiro, an institution that has the

largest coin collection in Latin America,

comprising more than 130 thousand

pieces coming from several regions. Dat

ing from the 4th century alone, there are

1.888 coins bearing the representations of

all emperors, usurpers and empresses that

gravitated towards the power back then.

The coins, besides offering economic

well being have also intrinsic iconic as

pects. When we analyze the monetary

obverses and reverses conceiving them

as fabricated images, we see that coins

imitate the things to which they refer

to. Any sign, even the iconographical

one, engraved through physical or natu

ral processes, is constructed according

to certain determined rules that follow

social conventions. In fact, a coin cir

culates in three different levels, where it

simultaneously is an icon, an index and

a conventional symbol. The peoples that

inhabited the vast Roman Empire had

the knowledge to recognize their ruler in

a bust engraved in a small bronze, silver

or gold piece.

Coins have been studied as a simple

ﬁnancial exchange, another merchandise

within the large world of commerce. The

numismatic researcher has been more

concerned with the economical and so

cial body that coins served, that is selling

and buying transactions, salary payment,

etc., than with the metal with which coins

were made and that also informed of the

richness of a reign

Contemporary man hardly connects

coins to a mode of communication be

tween distant peoples. Nevertheless, a

strange monetary piece would speak to a

Roman owner through (1) the metal with

which it was coined, noble or not, (2) its

iconographic type and (3) its legend. The

metal would inform of the richness of a

reign and the other two elements would

tell him something about its art - that is,

how high was the technological ability

used in the manufacture of that speciﬁc

coinage -, about the power of the issuing

authority and, mainly, about the political

and religious ideology that embodied it.

This last aspect of a numismatic source is

the one we intend to explore here.

We just made a huge anachronism

when we compared a capitalistic society,

like ours, that has its own economical pat

terns, to a society that existed a thousand

or two years ago. In a world of extremely

low levels of alphabetization and precari

ous modes of communication, iconogra-

phy played a fundamental role. According

to Corvisier, modern and simple deﬁni

tions, which only look at the purchase

value, are not useful when we study an

tiquity. In order to deﬁne a coin we need

to understand its function back then

The present paper has this context as

background. We tried to identify each

existing symbol on the obverse and on

the reverse of the studied coins through

iconographical analysis. Those repre

sentations served as a kind of political,

social, economical and religious propa

ganda. They also have a strong ideologi

cal weight, because the ﬁnal objective

was to legitimize the rulers’ power before

their subjects.

I - Crisis and revolts in the 3rd century

After Septimius Severus death (222-

235), Rome falls into a period of political

anarchy that would last circa ﬁfty years.

One after the other, successive emperors

would be hailed by the troops at dawn

and assassinated at nightfall. As a way

to surpass ﬁnancial difﬁculties, coinage

was struck in such an altered way that the

people refused to accept them.

During most of the 3rd century, es

sentially during Aurelian’s government

(270-275), there is an attempt to rees

tablish the ﬁnances and to regain eco

nomical balance. At ﬁrst, in order to

make coin circulation easier, different

mints were opened, but soon after the

Emperor himself had them shut down.

A new wave of revolts broke all over the

Empire. To make the situation go back

to normal, only coinage minted by the

state is accepted, and the Senate had no

longer the right to inspect its production.

Increase in prices reach 1.000%. In 273

an uprising breaks in Rome. The mint

workers (Monetari), backed up by the low

Roman classes, kill more than 7 thou

sand soldiers of the repression forces.

The Empire had last territories and was

182 RHAA 6

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impoverished. Changes were due: politi-

cal and economical reforms that would

make the moribund body live again.

II - The tetrarchy and the

restoration of order

The process of transformation begins

during Gallienus government (253-268).

He starts a reorganization of the army

and chooses to form his personal guard

the elite of the ofﬁcials, together with a

large cavalry group. Administration wise,

senators lose the command over the le

gions. His successors proceed with the

restoration work, at least the ones that

are able to maintain themselves in power:

Aurelian (270-275) and Probus (276-282).

These initial reforms pave the way for the

ones established by Diocletian (284-305).

After the murder of Numerianus

(283-284), Caius Aurelius Valerius Dio

cletianus, born in Salona (nowadays Split

or Spalato, a city and a port in Croatia),

was proclaimed emperor by his soldiers.

Although he possessed an illustrious

name, Valerius, he did not descend from

the aristocratic Roman family of the

same name. So, he was not a patrician.

His father had been a freedman (ex-slave)

from Dalmatia (Croatia’s cost). In order

to avoid having a similar end as his an

tecessors, Diocletian relied on known

trustful people that came from his so

cial background. Some of the members

of the future tetrarchy belonged to that

group: Galerius (305-311), his adjunct,

had guarded livestock at the Carpathian

Mountains; Maximianus Herculius

(285/286-305) served army with Diocle

tian; Constantius Chlorus, Maximianus

adjunct, also came from the legions. Both

them and their successors chose assist

ants with identical past.

In 286 we have the beginning of

several reforms that, for some time, re

store the order. At ﬁrst, a diarchy with

Maximianus is established. Neverthe

less, some questions arise that hint at

Diocletian’s excesses and arbitrariness.

For instance, reformulation of the annona

(annual tax over agricultural production)

and strengthening of the curiales (Roman

popular classes that came from a same

curia or village); peasants, colons and ten

ants had to stay permanently at the lands

they worked on, they were prohibited of

leaving; urban workers were obliged to

keep the same profession and to pass it

on to their descendants. A novel system

of classes is, thus, established, one that

was unknown in Rome until then. The

intent was to maintain the Empire’s eco

nomical structure immobilized.

The diarchy turns into a tetrarchy, and

Galerius and Constantius Chlorus par

ticipate as Caesars. They were both con

nected, by marriage, to the two Augus

tus. Galerius marries Valeria, Diocletian’s

daughter, and Constantius Chlorus mar-

ries Theodora, Maximianus daughter.

The new Caesars do not have a mere

administrative function. They need to

strengthen their “Augustus”. One “Cae

sar”, as a kind of “vice-emperor”, would

aid each “Augustus”. Thus, the pairs

were obliged to help one another, im

mediately, in case of danger: the oriental

Augustus and his Caesar would came in

aid of the occidental colleagues. Their

vow of friendship is depicted at the por

phyry sculpture called “The Tetrarchs”,

in Venice, where the four of them are

represented embraced.

Besides those facts, we have an in

version of the political axis. Rome was

placed in second plan after the new

capitals became ofﬁcial: Aquilea and

Treveris, in the Occident, Sirmio and

Nicomedia, in the Orient.

In an attempt to reestablish the power

of the Roman economy, Diocletian tries

to accomplish an economical and admin

istrative reform. Besides issuing gold and

silver coins, he also puts in circulation

bronze divisional coins with an extremely

tenuous silver cover, usually called “silver

bath”. Those coins were used for daily

transactions, and were known as follis.

The follis, which size and weight was

inferior to the dupondius

’, was issued be-

tween 295 and 298, according to Ewald

Junge

. Its reverse bears the image of a

nude Jupiter with a paragonium (a kind of

labarum or standard that accompanied

the deity) and a cornucopia symbolizing

that richness and abundance were back

in the Empire. The coins minted in the

Orient bear also a star in their ﬁeld. The

National Historical Museum has 145 such

coins, from Diocletian, and 107 from Max

imianus. Fifteen of those still carry this

characteristic, including the silver cover,

which is a very important artistic device.

In 301, the tetrarchs tried, through

the Editum Diocletiani et Collegarum de pretiis

rerum venalium, or Diocletian’s Edict on

Maximum Prices, to reestablish the Em

pire economy by rating the maximum

prices of the goods - practice known, in

our “post-modern” society, as “freezing”

of prices and salaries, something still in

use among our traditional political class.

As it happens nowadays, it did not bring

good results, corruption and smuggling

were stimulated.

In this period also new mints were

opened in order to fulﬁll the tetrarchy’s

obligations and the commercial needs:

public enterprises and increase of the

military and civil strength. Because of this

new issues begin to circulate bearing let

ters at the inferior part of the coin reverse,

also known as exergue. When visible we

can identify the name (a kind of abbre

viation) of the place of minting, like, for

instance: PÈT (Ticinum); ARLQ, PCON,

PAR, SCON (Arles); AQ, AQP* (Aqui

leia); MRH, SMHA (Heraklea); VRB,

ROM, VRB.ROM.Q, R*T, RWT, RT

(Rome); ASI, ASSIS, BSISZ, SMAKA,

SMKG (Cizicus) (Carlan 2000: 30).

Those values are shown explicitly at

the coinage of the period. In the dupon

dius, a bronze coin with a diameter larger

than 2,5 mm, weighing more than 8 g,

we can identify at the reverse of Diocle

tian’s coins the representation of a half

nude Jupiter, with covered shoulders, or,

at Maximianus’ coins, Hercules with the

lion scalp, handing over to the emperor

a globe surmounted by Victory. She is

about to place upon the emperor’s head

a laurel wreath, as if the protective deities

of Rome were blessing the new rulers.

The mappa (consular mantle) and the sella

curulis (curule chair), that represent the

consul, and the cuirass, helmet, spear and

horse, that represent the general, are part

of the group of images that appear both

RHAA 6 183

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at the obverse and the reverse of the

coins

, thus strengthening the imperial

power legitimacy.

In theory, the Empire was still united.

We are dealing here with an association

and a collegial system, and not with a

territorial division, although each august,

aided or not by a Caesar, or by another

less prestigious august, was in charge of

the administration and defense of a part

of the Empire. Diocletian himself was

considered to be an Ivono, a son of Jupi-

ter, while the other tetrarch, Maximianus,

was a Hercvleo, a son of Hercules

The coinages of the period exemplify

these differences. At Diocletian’s coins

we can observe the legend IOVI AVGG,

or, IOVI CONSERVAT AVGG, and at

Maximianus’ coins we have HERCULI

PACIFER. Although the tetrarchy sys

tem was created in order to establish

equality, those coinages prove that there

was an internal hierarchy. One ruler was

more important than his “brother”, since

a new august was only admitted ofﬁcially

at the college after his colleague’s (or col-

leagues’) approval.

In the Hercvleo’s government, Maximi

anus’, a coin with a new sign was struck. It

is known as votive or laudatory, because

at the reverse’s ﬁeld we have the follow-

ing inscription: VOT XX, along with the

letter H (Heraklea) or KK (Carthage). Its

meaning would be “We have voted for

twenty years”, exactly the duration of the

tetrarchy. After the Augustus resignation,

Maximianus uses another sign, VOT XX

MVLT XXX, which means “We have

voted for twenty years, and then for

another thirty”. In the legend, a laurel

wreath surrounds the vote. Those votes

expressed a kind of trust, the people’s

ﬁdelity to his ruler. Later, other emper-

ors, Constantine, Constans, Constantious

II, Julian, Jovian, Valentinian I, struck

coins with the same legend (or with varia

tions), like VOT XXX MVLTIS XXXX

or VOT XX SIC XXX.

What Diocletian really wanted was to

reconstruct, at any cost, Roman great

ness, which was about to become extinct,

even if to do so he provoked the ruin of

the majority of the citizens. He earnestly

tried to restore the sacriﬁces to the gods

and to compel the subjects to worship the

emperor as a deity. According to Funari

Roman religious ﬂexibility, its respect

towards other religions and the easiness

with which it incorporated them was an

important factor for the Roman ability in

dominating such a variety of peoples and

such a vast geographical area.

Coin description

1- Denomination: Dupondius

Date/Place: struck between 304-305,

in Alexandria.

Obverse: IMP C DIOCLETIANVS

PF AVG

Reverse: IOVICO - N S CAES / ALE

Description:

Obverse: bust, or nude, of bearded

Diocletian with diadem, to the right,

badly cut at the 1st and 4th quadrants; the

legend bears the name and the imperial

title (IMP AVG). At the reverse the de

ity Jupiter, standing nude, labarum to the

left, with the globe, symbol of power and

perfection, in his right hand. Surmount

ing the globe, a Victory with a laurel

wreath about to crown the deity. During

most part of the tetrarchy, Diocletian was

considered an iuno, a son of Jupiter, and

his friend and colleague Maximianus, a

herculeo, a son of Hercules. It was as if the

protective deities of the Roman pantheon

protected and gave legitimacy to the new

government. We have also identiﬁed the

letter S, something common in the tetrar

chy’s coinage, and an exergue referring

to the city of Alexandria (ALE). In the

deity’s image there is a layer of verdigris,

due to corrosion.

Observations:

Bronze piece, very well preserved; di

ameter: 2,76 mm; weight: 9,56 g; axis: 12.

There are three variations of this piece

in the collection, all coined in distinct

mints.

2 - Denomination: Follis

Date/Place: struck between 303-305,

in Trèves.

Obverse: IMP DIOCLETIANVS

AVG

Reverse: GENIO POPVLI ROMANI

S F / PTR

Description:

In the obverse, bust with diadem and

cuirass, to the right of the emperor, por

trayed with a beard. Alterations in the

legend. In the reverse, we have noticed

the presence of the genius

, Roman tute-

lary deity, having the modius (a kind of

crown) upon his head, a patira (lace or

whip that comes with the cornucopia)

in his hands, along with the cornucopia,

symbol of abundance. To the deity’s side

the letters S F help both the identiﬁcation

of Diocletian and the mint responsible

for this coinage. Exergue, PTR, referring

to Trèves.

Observations:

Bronze piece, very well preserved; di

ameter: 2,02 mm; weight: 9,78 g; axis: 6.

3- Denomination: Aes

Date/place: struck between 297-298,

in Alexandria

Obverse: IMP C C VAL DIOCLE

TIANVS PF AVG

Reverse: CONCORDIA MILITVM

A / ALE

Description:

Bust with cuirass and a radiate crown,

to the right. In this variation, the initials

of Diocletian’s full name appear. In the

reverse, emperor standing up turned to

the right, wearing a military uniform. He

holds in his left hand a paragonium, and

receives a globe - surmounted by Victory

- from the hands of a nude Jupiter. A

scepter is placed to the left of the deity.

Between Diocletian and Jupiter, the letter

A. Exergue of Alexandria.

Concordia that is shown in the in

scription Concordia militum, in the re

verse was a feminine deity, protectress of

Rome’s social and moral life.

Observations:

Bronze piece, very well preserved;

diameter: 1,98 mm; weight: 9,80 g; axis:

10.

184 RHAA 6

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Conclusion

Any symbol system is an invention of

men. The symbolic systems that we call

language are inventions or reﬁning of what

had been, in other times, perceptions of

the object within a mentality divested of

images. This turned visual language into

an universal trait. Dondis adds up that

visual communication is full of informa

tion with universal meaning; the symbol

does not exist only in language. Its use is

much more extensive. The symbol must

be a simple one and should make refer

ence to a group, idea, commercial activity,

institution or political party

This symbology, found in numismat

ics, was an exposition of ideas, a com

position of emblems, like the Phrygian

barret (that means freedom), the cornu-

copia (that depicts abundance) and Con

cordia (that shows the union is possible

with everyone’s efforts). Other covering

objects, like the veil, that may indicate

modesty or widowhood, barrets and hel

mets, that point to military campaigns,

the adornment with the laurel wreath,

that leads to the idea that those who wear

them are deities - are also common im

ages in monetary representations.

Iconographical monetary impres

sions, leaving aside inscriptions, reveal

several figures: animals, vegetation,

coats of arms, objects, buildings and

more or less stylized emblems. Usually,

this ﬁgures make reference to the mint

and to the issuing authority, who is very

clearly pointed out to the contemporar

ies through a ﬁgure, an attitude, or any

other attribute, the meaning of which

many times eludes us.

Acknowledgements

We would like to thank the profes-

sors of Art History at Unicamp for the

exchange of ideas, to Pedro Paulo Abreu

Funari, Ciro Flamarion Santana Cardoso,

Maria Beatriz Borba Florenzano, Vera

Lúcia Tosttes, Rejane Maria Vieira, Eli

ane Rose Nery, Edinéa da Silva Carlan,

Ilma Dias Corrêa da Silva, and Francisca

Santiago da Silva. We also mention the

institutional support of the Núcleo de

Estudos Estratégicos (NEE/Unicamp)

and of Capes. The author is the sole re

sponsible for the ideas expressed in this

paper.

English version:

M. Cristina N. Kormikiari Passos

tanit@usp.br

All dates cited here belong to the Christian

Era (A.D.).

CARLAN, C. U. “Las monedas de Cons-

tancio II en el acervo Del Museo Histórico

Nacional de Río de Janeiro: características”.

In: ALFARO, Carmen, MARCOS, Carmen

& PALOMA, Otero. Actas del XIII Congreso

Internacional de Numismática. Madrid: Ministério

de Cultura, 2005.

Professor Maria Beatriz B. Florenzano, during

the international seminar “The other side of

a coin”, presented this idea. What would be a

sovereign’s purpose to struck coins with less

than 2 mm of diameter (smaller than our 1

cent coins) bearing an iconographical and

symbolical richness of great expression, like

the follis and the dupondius minted by the

tetrarchs? Available evidence shows that such

an amount of work would be unlikely devised

aiming only at a simple economical exchange

between consumer and producer.

JUNGE, Ewald. The Seaby Coin Encyclopaedia.

Second Impression with revisions. London: British

Library, 1994, p. 107.

DEPEYROT, G. Economie et Numismatique

(284-491). Paris: Errance, 1987, p. 84.

RÉMONDON, R. La Crisis del Imperio Romano.

De Marco Aurelio a Anastasio. 2nd. ed. Barce

lona: Labor, 1973, p. 110.

FUNARI, P. P. de A. Grécia e Roma. Vida pú-

blica e vida privada. Cultura, pensamento e mitologia.

Amor e sexualidade. São Paulo: Contexto, 2002,

p. 114.

We have the catalogue The Roman Imperial

Coinage. Edited by Harold Mattingly, C.H.V.

Sutherland, R.A.G. Carson. V, VI, VII, VIII.

London : Spink and Sons, 1983, in order to

date the coins.

The genius is a generator deity, who presides

everyone’s birth (or the birth of a new order).

It can also be associated with the tutelage of

a person, a place, of something, of someone’s

glory, beauty, merit or worth.

The bronze Aes is believed to have been

Rome’s ﬁrst coin, used for exchange, purcha

ses and sells (Aes grave, or bronze measured

by weight). It was mostly used for payment

of the troops.

DONDIS, D. A. Sintaxe da linguagem visual.

Translation Jefferson Luiz Camargo. 2nd. ed.

São Paulo: Martins Fontes, 1997, p. 115.

RHAA 6 185

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Daniel Arasse em perspectiva:

um adendo a

L’ Annonciation

italienne

Neville Rowley

Monitor na Universidade de Paris IV/ Sorbonne

Doutorando em História da Arte, período

moderno, na Sorbonne.

A capacidade excepcional que Da-

niel Arasse tinha de tratar com alegria

problemáticas extremamente diversas

tendeu a fazer esquecer que ele era tam

bém um “especialista”. Seu interesse ja

mais desmentido pela pintura italiana e,

mais particularmente, pela ﬂorentina,

do início do Quattrocento, remonta a seu

diploma de estudos superiores, que ele

defendeu em 1967 diante de André

Chastel. Desde essa época, pesam as

problemáticas que estarão no cerne de

sua obra maior, publicada em 1999,

L’Annonciation italienne: une histoire de pers

pective. Nesse livro, Arasse se propõe a

demonstrar como a perspectiva mate

mática, por suas próprias ambigüidades,

permite representar melhor o mistério

da Anunciação, a chegada da “imen

sidão na medida”, como a descreve

na época São Bernardino de Siena. O

historiador se interessa, em particular,

por um tipo de composição, talvez con

cebida por Masaccio, depois desenvol

vida, em meados do Quattrocento, por

pintores como Domenico Veneziano,

Fra Angelico e Piero della Francesca.

O parentesco entre esses artistas vai,

entretanto, muito além de sua maestria

na perspectiva: a tradição historiográ

ﬁca italiana também os agrupou em um

movimento, batizado “pittura di luce”,

visando à representação – com o auxí

lio de cores claras e limitadas – de um

espaço pictórico ensolarado. É digno de

nota constatar que várias dessas “pin

turas de luz” representam efetivamente

a Anunciação, momento luminoso

por excelência, sugerindo uma leitura

menos formalista dessa tendência pic

tórica. Tal ligação é pertinente? Se é,

por que Daniel Arasse não a formu

lou? Antes de poder responder a essas

questões, convém retraçar brevemente

o itinerário intelectual que resultou na

obra de 1999. Não se trata de recolocar

em questão a visão “perspectivista” de

Daniel Arasse, mas sim de apoiá-la e

desenvolvê-la para redeﬁnir o que cha-

mamos de “a nova imagética”, espacial

e luminosa, do Quattrocento

Genealogia de uma intuição

“Este livro nasceu de uma intuição:

do Trecento ao Cinquecento, existira na pin

tura italiana uma aﬁnidade particular

entre Anunciação e perspectiva”.

primeiras palavras de L’Annonciation

italienne não poderiam ter enunciado

mais explicitamente seu propósito. Se

Ambrogio Lorenzetti e Paolo Veronese

constituem pontos maiores da reﬂexão

arassiana, podemos circunscrever a al

gumas décadas do Quattrocento a verda

deira tese desenvolvida pelo historiador.

É, de fato, a um artigo de John Spencer,

publicado em 1955, que ele se refere em

primeiro lugar, no momento de retra

çar a gênese de sua reﬂexão.

Spencer

colocava em evidência a aparição, em

meados do Quattrocento, de uma maneira

nova de representar a cena da Anuncia

ção, com seus protagonistas, o arcanjo

Gabriel e a Virgem Maria, colocados

de um lado e de outro de um lugar ar

quitetônico cruzado ao centro por um

impressionante ponto de fuga em pers

pectiva. Para Spencer, o exemplo mais

antigo de tal composição encontra-se

no fragmento da predela do Ret

ábulo de

Santa L

úcia, pintado por Domenico Ve-

neziano, por volta de 1445, atualmente

no Fitzwilliam Museum de Cambridge

[Fig. 1]. Esse dispositivo, qualiﬁcado

como “nova imagética espacial”,

co-

nhecerá um vasto destino, primeiro em

Florença, depois em toda a Itália.

No início de sua reﬂexão sobre a

Anunciação, Daniel Arasse reivindica

igualmente a herança de outro “emi

nente historiador”,

Erwin Panofsky.

Ao seu artigo fundador sobre a pers

pectiva, Arasse responde de maneira ao

mesmo tempo reverenciadora e polê

mica.

Ele aplaude o historiador alemão

por ter sido o primeiro a compreender

a perspectiva matemática como uma

“forma simbólica”, cujo primeiro exem

plo seria precisamente uma Anunciaçã

de Ambrogio Lorenzetti, conservada

na Pinacoteca Nazionale de Siena.

En-

tretanto, mais ainda do que essa aná

lise histórica, que se revelou inexata, é

a própria interpretação que Panofsky

faz da perspectiva que Arasse contesta.

Esta não preside uma concepção “des

teologizada” do mundo, mas é empre

gada, ao contrário, para ﬁgurar a encar

nação da divindade no mundo humano.

Pois, se é verdade que a perspectiva dá

uma medida ao espaço representado,

alguns elementos do dispositivo pictó

rico resistem a qualquer representação

em profundidade: isto é válido para a

porta fechada, no fundo da perspec

tiva de Domenico Veneziano [Fig. 1],

vista de muito perto quando deveria ser

vista de longe, ou da placa de mármore

da Anunciação de Piero della Francesca

em Perugia, da qual pode-se discernir

as veias de maneira incongruente para

uma tal distância. O espaço assim cons

truído não é contínuo e inﬁnito, não é

“moderno” no sentido cartesiano, mas

constituído, de acordo com o pensa

mento aristotélico da época, de lugares

justapostos: o mundo humano, men

surável pela perspectiva, faz reaparecer

aquele divino, que escapa a qualquer

medida. “Como a porta de Domenico

Veneziano, o mármore de Piero della

Francesca constitui uma ﬁgura inco

mensurável que vem na medida”,

es-

creve Arasse.

Como o mais antigo exemplo con

servado de tal composição, a Anunciaçã

de Domenico Veneziano é, portanto,

capital. Entretanto, observa Arasse

(seguindo, assim, Spencer): “se Do

menico ... é certamente um dos mais

brilhantes especialistas da perspectiva

em Florença nos anos 1440, ﬁca difícil

atribuir-lhe a invenção de um esquema

neste momento ainda novo”.

Segundo

186 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

os dois autores, tal inovação seria mais

provavelmente obra do fundador do

Renascimento na pintura, ninguém

menos que Masaccio em pessoa. Na

base de uma tal teoria encontra-se, além

do gênio do pintor, uma passagem da

edição Giunti em que Giorgio Vasari

descreve uma Anunciaçã

o de Masaccio,

situada sobre o coro da igreja ﬂorentina

San Niccolò Oltrarno.

Entretanto, em

1940, Roberto Longhi havia proposto

identiﬁcar esta obra como a Anunciaçã

de Masolino, outrora na coleção Mellon

e hoje na National Gallery of Art de

Washington. Para Longhi, a atribuição

vasariana se deveria a uma confusão

entre os estilos desses dois pintores

na segunda edição das Vidas

Algum

tempo depois, tal proposição recebeu

um apoio de peso com a descoberta de

documentos do século XVII na sacris

tia da igreja, falando de uma Anunciação

que parece ser aquela de Masolino.

verdade que a descrição de Vasari, com

seu “edifício de várias colunas desenha

das em perspectiva de grande beleza”,

deixava uma dúvida quanto a essa iden

tiﬁcação.

Pouco importa, ﬁnalmente,

para Arasse, a questão de San Niccolò:

o que conta é que existe sim um protó

tipo perdido de Masaccio. Essa questão

da origem não é insigniﬁcante: permite

conferir toda uma outra legitimidade

deste esquema pictórico. É talvez por

essa razão que Daniel Arasse fará dela

a única convicção intangível dos três

decênios de pesquisa que determinaram

sua longa meditação sobre a questão.

Em seu diploma de estudos supe

riores dedicado às Figuras e estruturas do

espa

ço em Masolino da Panicale, encontra-

se, de fato, uma alusão à Anunciaçã

perdida de Masaccio, mas a “intuição”

fundamental da obra de 1999 ainda não

tinha sido enunciada.

Algumas determinantes importan-

tes da reﬂexão arassiana, entretanto,

já estão ali presentes, como a idéia de

uma justaposição, uma tensão, entre

o mundo humano e o mundo divino.

Essa mesma idéia será desenvolvida em

um artigo de 1970, onde aparece a pri

meira interpretação da construção de

uma Anunciaçã

o como “o divino ... su-

gerido na profundidade”.

Foi no ano

seguinte, em um escrito jamais publi

cado, intitulado “O lugar arquitetônico

da Anunciação”, que sobreveio “a in

tuição”. Como Arasse contaria muito

mais tarde, André Chastel se opôs à

aparição deste artigo, pois ele “tinha

percebido nele o excesso de entusiasmo

e de precipitação juvenis”.

O jovem

historiador devia certamente expor ali

a “ponta” de sua demonstração, ou seja,

a “resistência” de determinadas formas

à ﬁguração perspectiva para fazer emer

gir um sentido divino.

Nos textos contemporâneos e poste

riores, buscaria-se, entretanto, em vão

traços dessa “intuição”. Arasse dis

serta com prazer sobre a Anunciação

no Quattrocento, mas sem jamais expor a

idéia central da obra de 1999. No início

dos anos 1970, opera-se no historiador

uma evolução estigmatizada por suas

escolhas universitárias: ele não termina

sua tese junto à Sorbonne sob orienta

ção de André Chastel, mas começa uma

outra com Louis Marin, na École des

Hautes Études em Sciences Sociales.

É o início de um diálogo fecundo sobre

a perspectiva e a Anunciação italiana,

que implicará, além de Arasse e Marin,

ﬁguras da EHESS como Hubert Da

misch ou Georges Didi-Huberman.

“troca de pele” é evidente quando se

considera uma comunicação dedicada

em 1977 ao “ponto de vista de Maso

lino sobre a perspectiva”: um decênio

depois da dissertação de DES, o dis

curso está impregnado de referências

semióticas.

Além disso, é numa revista

italiana de semiótica que Arasse publica

seu primeiro escrito sobre o tema da

Anunciação, no qual não se encontra

nenhum vestígio da “intuição” que

abrirá a obra de 1999. A “nova imageria

espacial” de Spencer é aqui compreen

dida sobretudo como um “enunciado

pictural”: ao “eixo da enunciação”, este

do ponto de vista do observador e do

ponto de fuga, opõe-se perpendicu

larmente o “eixo do enunciado”, que

conta a história em vias de acontecer.

Não se trata, então, de fazer uma his

tória desse tipo de representação, mas

somente revelar o esquema discursivo

tal como ele se exprime nessas obras

– quer os pintores tivessem consciência

delas quer não.

Essa obra de 1984 é,

portanto, um estudo, às vezes verti

ginoso, sobre os níveis de linguagem

da representação da Anunciação no

Quattrocento: “em pintura, a anunciação

não é senão uma enunciação enunciada no

enunciado (pictural) que ali é feito”.

L’Annonciation italienne, restará muito

pouco deste discurso.

A publicação da obra de 1999 não

pode ser considerada, então, um resul

tado linear das diversas pesquisas de

Daniel Arasse. Ademais, neste livro

também, há uma verdadeira polêmica:

recorrendo largamente a temas desen

volvidos por Louis Marin e Hubert

Damisch, Arasse não se atém menos

a fazer valer sua originalidade. A idéia

mesma do livro, que deveria primei

ramente se intitular La perspective de

l’Annociation [A perspectiva da Anun

ciação],

nasceu em reação a uma idéia

de Damisch. Este aﬁrmava ver uma

cumplicidade entre Anunciação e pers

pectiva, enquanto Arasse prefere falar

de aﬁnidade. Para o autor, a diferença é

de tamanho: “a proposição de Damisch

é mais antropológica, a minha, mais

histórica”,

ele aﬁrma de imediato. É

somente então numa perspectiva histó

rica que a “intuição” de 1971 pode se

colocar. L’Annonciation italienne é, por

tanto, ao mesmo tempo uma síntese e

uma superação das diferentes escolas

de pensamento que formaram Daniel

Arasse. Toda a complexidade do mé

todo arassiano – feito de hipóteses de

pesquisa que se completam com fre

qüência, às vezes se desmentem, mas

são incessantemente remetidas ao metier

– é ali colocada em ação.

É porque se

trata de uma obra “aberta” que pode

mos nos propor a completá-la.

RHAA 6 187

Traduções/Translations

Perspectiva e luz: uma antinomia?

Se a perspectiva serve de ﬁo condu

tor a L’Annonciation italienne, outras pro

blemáticas estão igualmente ligadas ao

tema de modo recorrente, assim como

a simbologia da luz, associada, desde

a Antigüidade, à presença do divino.

Em um artigo célebre, Millard Meiss

demonstrara como esta luz tinha um

papel importante “como forma e como

símbolo” na pintura do século XV.

Ele havia principalmente relembrado o

quanto a representação do vidro atra

vessado pelos raios divinos eram um

atributo perfeito – e recorrente – da

Virgem, que, no momento da Anun

ciação, é igualmente penetrada de Luz

sem ser quebrada, isto é, sem perder sua

virgindade. Assim a metáfora luminosa

convém particularmente à representação

da Virgem da Anunciação. Fazendo uma

homenagem póstuma a Daniel Arasse,

Charles Dempsey, ademais, tirou partido

deste argumento para alargar os limites

cronológicos que a obra de 1999 havia ﬁ

xado: aplicando a lógica arassiana a uma

Anunciaçã

o de Poussin, hoje na National

Gallery de Londres, o historiador inter

pretava a luz emanada do Santo Espírito

como uma ﬁgura divina.

O livro de Arasse leva em conside-

ração essa componente luminosa tão

importante, principalmente interpre

tada como um elemento perturbador

da organização perspectiva. Pois o que

é que surge luminoso, que seja patente,

reﬂetido sobre um fundo de ouro, ou

mesmo pintado, se não uma negação do

espaço perspectivo matematicamente

construído?

Para Daniel Arasse, essas

aparições luminosas nas representações

da Anunciação visam mostrar explici

tamente a encarnação do divino no

mundo humano de uma maneira muito

diferente do dispositivo inventado por

Masaccio e aperfeiçoado por Domenico

Veneziano e Piero della Francesca, como

a Anunciação de Ambrogio Lorenzetti a

Montesiepi, que servirá de modelo para

algumas obras sienenses. A presença de

uma janela no centro da representação

é tomada como uma ﬁgura divina, por

conta da luz que dela emana. “Vindo

esquartejar a unidade fechada da arqui

tetura virginal ... a edícula central pode

quase ser considerada como causa do

terror de Maria: a edícula é a ﬁgura da

irrepresentável erupção do divino no

humano”.

Mesmo se os meios divir-

jam, o objetivo perseguido é, assim, o

mesmo que aquele da “nova imaginária

espacial” do Quattrocento

Mais de um século depois, ou seja, de

pois do sucesso de “O ponto de vista de

Masaccio”,

volta-se, segundo Arasse,

a uma maneira de representar o divino

análoga àquela inventada por Ambro

gio Lorenzetti. Algumas Anunciações da

pintura ﬂorentina do início do século

XVI se distinguem de fato pela repre

sentação de uma luz divina irrompendo

na cena sagrada, uma luz cuja função

é comparável àquela da Anunciaçã

o de

Poussin evidenciada por Dempsey. A

origem simbólica dessa aparição lumi

nosa seria de se buscar junto a Marsilio

Ficino, que, no ﬁm do Quattrocento, con

sagra um verdadeiro culto à luz, mais

platônico do que cristão. Como no

afresco de Ambrogio Lorenzetti, essa

luz aparece abertamente miraculosa,

pois contradiz explicitamente a cons

trução perspectiva da cena represen

tada. A partir do início do Cinquecento,

o esquema “masaccesco” parece então

completamente esquecido.

Deve-se, assim, deduzir que a questão

luminosa é totalmente ausente das obras

“perspectivas” do Quattrocento? Parece

que não: nesse espaço pictural calculado,

a luz tem igualmente um papel primor

dial, ainda que freqüentemente subesti

mado, pois o objetivo que a perspectiva

atribui a si mesma, o de representar o

rilievo e, assim, fazer emergir as formas

do plano da representação, seria imper

feitamente alcançado só por via das li

nhas de fuga convergindo em direção a

um ponto único.

Essa fase inicial, fun-

damental de um ponto de vista teórico,

junta-se a uma outra, não menos indis

pensável para o sucesso da experiência:

a de demonstrar os campos perspectivos

delimitados anteriormente.

Mais ainda que em pintura, percebe-

se a importância de tal procedimento

na marchetaria, dita, corretamente,

“perspectiva”. Sem os diferentes valores

das essências de madeira, a impressão

espacial e luminosa que emana desses

painéis seria inexistente ou quase. Por

volta do primeiro quarto do Quattrocento,

essa técnica não é depreciada como

viria a ser no ﬁm do século: é talvez

o próprio Filippo Brunelleschi que a

inventa, no nicho do

São Pedro de Or-

sanmichele e na Sacristia de Missas da

catedral ﬂorentina.

Além disso, tudo

faz pensar que a experiência fundadora

da perspectiva, esta vista do batistério

ﬂorentino e de seus “mármores brancos

e negros”, era na verdade apenas um

painel de marchetaria.

A marchetaria

faz aparecer um componente inegável

da construção perspectiva: desde sua

origem, ela é constituída de uma rede

geométrica precisa, cheia de valores lu

minosos também bem aplicados.

Na Itália do Quattrocento, seria in

correto opor a prática da marchetaria

perspectiva à da pintura: inúmeros

são os pintores a fornecer cartões aos

intarsiatori, de Alesso Baldovinetti, no

momento em que finaliza por uma

Annunciaçã

o a decoração da Sacristia das

Missas, a Piero della Francesca, que di

fundiu a linguagem perspectiva em toda

uma parte da Itália do Norte graças aos

vários trabalhos dos irmãos Canozi da

Lendinara.

Assim, esses artistas for-

necem mestres de marchetaria sem

que seu estilo se livre do testemunho

do parentesco entre as duas técnicas:

como os marcheteiros inserem peda

ços de madeira mais ou menos claros,

esses pintores constroem o espaço pic

tural justapondo zonas coloridas mais

ou menos luminosas. É “o antípoda do

modelado”:

do mesmo modo da mon-

tanha rosa dos Estigmas de S

ão Francisco

de Domenico Veneziano (Washington,

National Gallery of Art). Como os ou

tros fragmentos dessa mesma predela,

188 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

da qual fazia parte a Anunciação [Fig. 1],

a obra era montada originalmente em

uma moldura de perspectiva calculada

em função do ponto de vista do espec

tador (moldura visível hoje sobretudo

no Milagre de S

ão Zenóbio do Fitzwilliam

Museum de Cambridge): é o jogo de

luz, o raso mais ou menos claro, que

coloca em profundidade essa janela do

modo mais albertiano possível, segundo

os mesmos princípios que aqueles da

marchetaria. Trata-se, de fato, como já

disse, de uma “perspectiva de luz”.

Tal designação fazia referência explí-

cita à expressão “pintura de luz”, for

jada em 1990 por ocasião de uma ex

posição homônima curada por Luciano

Bellosi.

Tratava-se, então, de aproxi-

mar algumas pinturas do Quattrocento

ﬂorentino – de Domenico Veneziano

e Fra Angelico ao jovem Piero della

Francesca, passando pelos menos ilus

tres Giovanni di Francesco ou Alesso

Baldovinetti – em torno de uma idéia,

não iconográﬁca, mas puramente for

mal: esses artistas representavam, com

a ajuda de uma paleta cristalina, um

mundo iluminado de uma doce luz

solar. É impressionante constatar que

esses “partidários da perspectiva e da

luz”

são os mesmos que abrem para

a “nova imageria espacial” da Anun

ciação do Quattrocento. A aproximação

da tese arassiana com esse movimento

pictural não promete ser fecunda?

A Anunciação italiana: uma histó-

ria de perspectiva e de luz

A obra de Daniel Arasse sobre a

Anunciação italiana data de quase um de

cênio depois da exposição Pittura di luce:

como o autor não fala jamais de “pin

tura de luz” deste modo, poderíamos

pensar que o tema lhe parecia pouco

pertinente, se não nele mesmo, pelo me

nos no contexto de sua longa reﬂexão.

Ao olhá-lo mais de perto, entretanto,

nos damos conta de que Arasse retoma

palavra por palavra as frases de Bellosi

escritas em 1990 para descrever, sobre

Giovanni di Francesco, o contexto da

pintura ﬂorentina de meados do século

XIV.

Arasse então deu atenção ao ca-

tálogo da exposição Pittura di luce. Que a

noção não tenha suscitado reviravoltas

mais amplas em sua análise, isto é o que

convém estudar agora.

Giovanni di Francesco não é um

pintor de primeiro plano do Quattro

cento ﬂorentino, longe disso. Se ele tinha

sido escolhido como porta-bandeira da

exposição de 1990, era justamente por

que esta queria aﬁrmar, mais do que

o brilho de um só artista, a existência

de uma tendência pictural em seu con

junto. Longe de sobrevir de maneira

fortuita no panorama dos estudos ita

lianos, uma tal vertente da pintura ﬂo

rentina tinha sido largamente estudada

ao longo de todo o século XX, graças

notadamente aos trabalhos seminais de

Roberto Longhi.

A expressão pittura di

luce, que faz parte hoje em dia da lingua

gem crítica italiana, pode até se aplicar

em vários níveis: no sentido da exposi

ção de 1990, trata-se da pintura colorida

e luminosa da Florença dos anos 1440 e

1450, tal como ela se exprime no ponto

mais alto nas obras de Domenico Vene

ziano e de Fra Angelico – em oposição

à “pintura delicada e crepuscular” de

um Filippo Lippi.

De maneira mais

ampla, a corrente pode remontar, na

fonte, às obras de maturidade de Ma

saccio e ir, no ﬁm, até aquelas de Piero

della Francesca, tais como Antonello da

Messina e alguns venezianos.

Que esses artistas tenham todos pin-

tado Anunciações não tem nada de muito

original em si para a época. Mas que a

“nova imageria espacial” proposta por

John Spencer nasça e se desenvolva

precisamente neste círculo, faz pensar.

Mesmo que deixemos em suspense

a questão, por demais hipotética, do

protótipo de Masaccio, podemos quase

retraçar a história da pittura di luce nos

apoiando apenas em Anunciações, ado

tando a tipologia descrita por Arasse. A

predela de Domenico Veneziano [Fig.

1] teve, de fato, um papel muito im

portante em Florença a partir dos anos

1440, como demonstra este pintor anô

nimo que é o “Mestre da Anunciação

Lanćkorońsky”, cuja obra homônima,

conservada no De Young Museum de

Los Angeles, retoma com mais sucesso

a combinação de tons diáfanos do que

o rigor da construção perspectiva.

Florença, essa composição deveria re

vestir uma importância tanto religiosa

quanto plástica, para que o pintor mais

teológico de seu tempo, Fra Angelico,

não hesitasse, em sua última Anunciaçã

em adotá-la, abandonando seu próprio

esquema habitual, ele mesmo madura

mente reﬂetido: em uma cena do Arma

dio degli Argenti, o dominicano decalca

quase que traço por traço a composi

ção perspectiva de Domenico, e retoma

suas cores cristalinas [Fig. 2]. Depois

da morte de Fra Angelico, em 1455, e

da de Domenico Veneziano, em 1461,

a pittura di luce declina em Florença,

não sem alguns últimos brilhos, visí

veis particularmente nas Anunciações: é

o caso do retábulo de Cosimo Rosselli,

pintado em 1473, no qual o anjo e a

Virgem são banhados de uma luz bem

mais clara que os santos situados no

primeiro plano [Fig. 3]. Mais do que

em pintura, a lembrança da pittura di

luce permanece palpável em outras téc

nicas, tais como a marchetaria – ela foi

vista com o acabamento da decoração

da Sacristia das Missas da catedral – ou

as miniaturas de um Attavante degli At

tavanti, no ﬁm do século [Fig. 4].

Para além da cidade do lírio,

é Piero

della Francesca que divulga, a seu modo,

essa pintura clara e luminosa em uma

vasta área da Itália. A Anunciação que ele

pinta no topo do Pol

íptico de Santo An-

tônio, hoje na Galleria Nazionale delle

Marche de Perugia, carrega, como visto,

a lembrança da construção perspectiva

de Domenico Veneziano, ao mesmo

tempo em que a cena é banhada de

uma luz ainda mais branca, típica de

Piero. Seguindo os mesmos passos do

pintor vão se converter teorias de ar

tistas, tanto na Toscana, como no caso

de Bartolomeo della Gatta (Avignon,

RHAA 6 189

Traduções/Translations

Musée du Petit Palais), quanto em Úm-

bria, a exemplo de Piermatteo d’Amelia

(Boston, Isabella Stewart Gardner Mu

seum), ou nos Marche, caso de Gio

vanni Angelo d’Antonio (Camerino,

Pinacoteca Cívica).

Mesmo sumariamente, a história da

pittura di luce se confunde então com

aquela da “nova imageria espacial” do

Quattrocento: as duas idéias aparecem

desde cedo menos estranhas uma à

outra. Elas são ligadas, complementa

res? Podemos avançar, neste ponto da

reﬂexão, uma hipótese: se a luz pictu

ral tem um papel tão importante nas

Anunciações deste movimento que pude

mos qualiﬁcar como “pintura de luz”,

não seria justamente porque ela é em

si compreendida como a manifestação

do divino?

Antes mesmo de considerar a va

lidade de tal abordagem, coloca-se de

imediato um problema importante. Ne

nhuma das obras evocadas é, de fato,

interpretada do mesmo modo por Da

niel Arasse: às ambigüidades do sistema

reveladas conscientemente por Masac

cio sucede a limpidez de uma compo

sição, na qual o ponto de fuga não tem

mais nada a esconder, pois o interesse

das obras de Domenico Veneziano ou

de Piero della Francesca residia justa

mente nessa justaposição entre mundo

humano e mundo divino, entre espaço

matemático e aquele, invisível, que lhe

escapa. Os herdeiros desse esquema

perspectivo suprimiriam essa porta ou

placa de mármore que se recusava a

ser mensurada: o sentido paradoxal do

dispositivo desapareceu. É o caso da

Anunciação de Fra Carnevale da National

Gallery de Washington, cuja referência

ao painel de Domenico Veneziano se

ria unicamente espacial e cromático,

mas não mais teológico: “à imagem

de sua luminosidade cristalina, a obra

é transparente ... Aquilo que deve ser

visto espiritualmente – a Encarnação

em vias de se realizar – não deve ser

buscada para além do que este quadro

deixa entrever: é para ser visto naquilo

que se vê”.

Quando mesmo a “lumi-

nosidade cristalina” da obra seria uma

ﬁgura de divindade, ela contradiria em

aparência um dos princípios cardinais

da intuição arassiana, essa “tensão entre

o tema representado e o instrumento de

sua representação”.

É uma outra diﬁculdade que per-

mite, de maneira irônica, ultrapassar o

obstáculo: na leitura do texto canônico

que relata o momento da Anunciação,

nos damos conta não somente de que

São Lucas não fala de luz cristalina, mas

que, além disso, ele faz uma referência

explícita à sombra. No interrogatio de Ma

ria, que se pergunta como ser mãe per

manecendo virgem, Gabriel responde

com efeito: “Virtus altissimi obumbrabit

tibi”, ou seja, “a virtude do Mais Alto te

cobrirá com sua sombra”.

No início do

Quattrocento, Gentile da Fabriano ilustra

essa frase de modo, talvez, o mais literal

em sua Anunciaçã

o da Pinacoteca Vati-

cana: a pomba do Espírito Santo projeta

sua sombra sobre o ventre de Maria.

Mas como imaginar uma sombra Da

quele que é Luz? É possível acreditar

que “a sombra da virtude do Mais Alto”

seja, de fato, por um mistério puramente

divino, uma emanação luminosa: é as

sim, de todo modo, que Daniel Arasse

interpreta o “surgimento” luminoso

do afresco de Ambrogio Lorenzetti de

Montesiepi, o qual “cobre Maria com

sua sombra paradoxal”.

A luz solar

que invade as Anunciações ﬂorentinas de

meados do Quattrocento poderiam então

fazer referência à chegada – oh, quão

misteriosa – da virtude divina no corpo

da Virgem.

Mais ainda que pelos oxímoros de

um São Bernardino, cuja pátria sie

nense acolheu pouco a “nova imageria

espacial” do Quattrocento, parece que

uma tal leitura pode ser conﬁrmada

pelos escritos de um testemunho pri

vilegiado da pittura di luce ﬂorentina, An

tonino Pierozzi, mais conhecido como

Santo Antonino. Nomeado arcebispo

de Florença em 1446, o dominicano

constitui uma autoridade moral incon

tornável para a época. Seus sermões,

compilados em sua Summa theologica, re-

levam sua “fascinação pela metáfora da

luz como veículo metafísico, bem como

por cada aspecto da vida da Virgem”.

No caso da Anunciação, Santo Anto

nino mostra-se particularmente ﬁrme

quando prescreve que o acontecimento

deve ser ﬁgurado sob a luz da manhã,

e não sob a luz da lua ou do sol de

meio-dia.

Quanto à estação, ela tem

também sua importância: a Anunciação

de fato aconteceu em 25 de março, dia

de primavera. Tendo isso em vista, seria

por acaso que Luciano Bellosi deﬁniu a

luz da pittura di luce como de uma manhã

de primavera?

Sem negar o caráter po-

ético, até impressionista,

de tal visão,

é absolutamente razoável pensar que, se

tantos pintores tentaram representar a

Anunciação invadida de uma luz ma

tinal e primaveril, isso se deva talvez a

algo bem mais profundo do que buscar

uma “impressão, sol nascente”.

Se há um pintor que inﬂuenciou

Santo Antonino, este foi certamente Fra

Angelico: em meados do Quattrocento, os

dois dominicanos são as ﬁguras de proa

do convento de San Marco.

Quando

consideramos as Anunciações pintadas

por Fra Angelico, constatamos, de fato,

uma evolução conforme os sermões de

Santo Antonino: as sugestões noturnas

deixam lugar à claridade solar e mati

nal do painel do Armadio degli Argenti

[Fig. 2].

Em relação ao retábulo que

hoje se encontra no Prado, uma outra

característica maior desaparece: o raio

de ouro materializando a descida da luz

divina. Ninguém duvida que é necessá

rio, entretanto, ver uma herança dessa

tradição ﬁgurativa quando o pintor

decide iluminar sua cena num sentido

narrativo, do anjo em direção à Vir

gem.

Os escritos de Santo Antonino

podem nos explicar essa evolução: a luz

não deixa de ser considerada a metáfora

divina mais adequada, mas torna-se

ainda mais admirável porque é tomada

de sua natureza própria, isto é, em con

formidade com a concepção que têm

190 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

então as pesquisas sobre óptica. Ao re-

presentar a Anunciação, o pintor deve,

então, aproximar-se o mais que possível

das condições atmosféricas existentes.

A supressão do ouro não deve ser in

terpretada aqui – como pode se fazer

em Leon Battista Alberti – como uma

pesquisa de “realismo”: como no caso

da perspectiva matemática, a aplicação

de regras de óptica não manifesta ne

nhuma vontade de se abstrair da inﬂu

ência divina.

Aproximando-se ainda

mais da propagação da luz diurna,

isto é, suprimindo-se os raios doura

dos miraculosos da tradição, exalta-se

ainda mais o Criador por sua criação

ela mesma.

Daniel Arasse, então, tem

razão em considerar a Anunciação de Fra

Carnevale como transparente por sua

luminosidade cristalina. Todavia, na

mesma instância que a transparência

atmosférica das obras de Domenico

Veneziano ou de Fra Angélico, essa

luminosidade deixa supor a presença

divina, ela deixa ver o invisível.

Excursus: a Anunciação Martelli

Enquanto caso-limite para os dois

conjuntos que aproximamos, a Anuncia

ção de Filippo Lippi que se encontra na

capela Martelli da igreja de San Lorenzo

em Florença [Fig. 5] pode ﬁgurar como

conclusão apropriada: sua composição

não é de modo algum a mesma da pre

dela

de Domenico Veneziano, ainda que

seu autor, por conta de sua sensibilidade

pictural julgada muito diversa, tenha

sido categoricamente excluído, em 1990,

da exposição Pittura di luce. Entretanto, a

obra é muito próxima daquelas que evo

camos. Se, de um lado, os protagonistas

não estão dispostos simetricamente em

relação ao ponto de fuga central, há de

fato uma forte rescisão perspectiva no

centro do painel. É verdade, de outro

lado, que as sombras são mais separa

das do que no Ret

ábulo de Santa Lúcia

de Domenico Veneziano: os tons cla

ros e luminosos abundam, no entanto,

nas partes ensolaradas, isto é, sobre a

metade direita da obra. Que seja preci

samente uma Anunciação que marca o

período, por volta de 1440, em que Fili-

ppo Lippi está mais próximo dos ideais

claros e luminosos de Fra Angelico ou

Domenico Veneziano, não parece preci

samente, neste ponto de nossa reﬂexão,

uma coincidência.

O retábulo talvez não tenha sido

concebido para ser visto como o ve

mos hoje. Como em sua primeira des

tinação, sua função original ainda nos

escapa.

A única certeza é que a obra

tinha sido pintada sobre duas metades

bem distintas, formando um díptico,

o que indica, ao mesmo tempo, uma

estrutura material da obra e também

alguns detalhes pintados.

Fra Filippo

sublinha essa descontinuidade pela sua

paleta: a parte esquerda é muito mais

escura que seu homólogo, mesmo em

zonas que deveriam ser mais claras e

coloridas de maneira idêntica. Tal dis

crepância sempre foi um problema para

os historiadores da arte.

Seria simples-

mente o resultado fortuito de condições

de conservação distintas? Uma outra

Anunciaçã

o de Filippo Lippi, da Frick

Collection de Nova York, prova o con

trário: não obstante seu formato sensi

velmente mais reduzido, encontramos

ali igualmente um tratamento cromá

tico disjuntivo entre os dois painéis da

obra. Ligeiramente anterior à Anunciação

Martelli

, esse pequeno díptico se carac-

teriza, com efeito, por uma cor de base

azul-violeta em sua metade esquerda,

e um tom claramente mais rosado na

parte direita. Essa disparidade já foi

observada e interpretada num sentido

decorativo: o manto escuro da Virgem

destaca-se sobre um fundo claro, ao

passo que a combinação cromática do

painel de Gabriel é exatamente oposta,

de modo que o conjunto forma um

quiasma bem-sucedido.

Como John

White magistralmente demonstrou, as

cores da Anunciação Martelli orientam

igualmente o olhar do espectador de

uma maneira extremamente bem pen

sada.

Devemos nos contentar, por ora,

com tal chave de leitura?

Podemos propor explicar essa dispa-

ridade axial levando em consideração a

componente narrativa da Anunciação.

No desenrolar mesmo da cena, a su

cessão dos acontecimentos é, de fato,

primordial: é somente quando Gabriel

explica a Maria a possibilidade de sua

união mística com Deus que ela aceita

e é então penetrada pelo Espírito Santo.

Nas representações da Anunciação,

essa temporalidade se exprime também

pelo raio dourado que atravessa a cena

de parte a parte, da ﬁgura de Deus

Pai ao ventre de Maria, pela doce luz

da pittura di luce, proveniente, ela tam

bém, freqüentemente, da esquerda [Fig.

2].

É possível que Filippo Lippi tenha

também querido representar o momento

em que, como diz São Bernardino, “a

eternidade vem no tempo”.

Ao invés

da continuidade que implica o raio dou

rado ou a iluminação geral, o pintor teria

sobretudo desejado marcar – separando

os dois motivos de sua composição – a

ruptura que conota esse acontecimento.

Do ponto de vista da história cristã, a

Anunciação constitui, de fato, um ponto

capital, ou seja, a passagem da era da

lei (sub lege) àquela da graça (sub gratia).

Na Florença do Quattrocento, o dia 25 de

março, dia da Anunciação, corresponde

também à passagem do ano novo. A

tomar por outros quadros de altar da

mesma época, construídos em díptico e

representando a Anunciação,

esta idéia

fundamental poderia então ser expressa

em pintura por Filippo Lippi: da era de

sub lege que ocupa a parte esquerda da

composição, passa-se àquela de sub gra

tia, muito mais clara e luminosa, isto é,

investida do divino. De acordo com a

teoria aristotélica das species, e assim com

as idéias de um Santo Antonino, Filippo

Lippi separa as duas metades de seu re

tábulo para marcar o curso da difusão

luminosa.

Tal idéia de passagem ainda

está por ser conﬁrmada pelo movimento

mesmo do anjo, que alcança alegremente

o limite que separa as duas metades da

Anunciação de San Lorenzo – suas asas

passam, literalmente, da sombra à luz.

Entre ele e a Virgem, encontra-se, in

RHAA 6 191

Traduções/Translations

crustado numa base no primeiro plano,

uma garrafa verde, pintada com efeitos

de lustre dignos de um Jan van Eyck.

Atributo tradicional da virgindade de

Maria, ela reforça ainda um pouco mais

a conotação luminosa do painel.

Longe de querer ter a última palavra

sobre uma questão inesgotável, essa lei

tura de L’Annonciation italienne mostra, pa

rece-me, toda a riqueza do pensamento

de Daniel Arasse. Um exame de seus es

critos sobre o tema permitiu colocar em

evidência um método de trabalho muito

particular, feito de um equilíbrio ﬂutu

ante entre intuição e minúcia.

É nessa

perspectiva de uma reﬂexão incessante

mente a recomeçar que é preciso com

preender nossa tentativa de confrontar

a tese arassiana com a noção, também

recente, de pittura di luce. Finalmente,

parece que essas duas interpretações da

pintura de meados do Quattrocento têm

tudo a ganhar confrontando-se uma

com a outra. Mais do que considerar a

aparição luminosa como um oposto da

representação perspectiva, sua presença

sob a forma da luz diáfana da pittura di

luce confere à “nova imageria espacial

do Quattrocento” uma das maiores conti

nuidades na tradição ﬁgurativa italiana.

Tal aproximação permite também dar

sentido a essa “pintura de luz” muito

exclusivamente qualiﬁcada como “poé

tica”, um sentido que lembra a interpre

tação “luminosa” que Daniel Arasse fez

da “ambição de Vermeer”,

sem, é claro,

confundir-se com ela.

Tradução: Ana Gonçalves Magalhães

ARASSE, Daniel. L’Annonciation italienne: une

histoir de perspective. Paris: Hazan, 1999 (citado

doravante como Arasse, 1999), p. 9.

SPENCER, John R. “Spatial Imagery of the

Annunciation in Fifthteenth Century Flo

rence”, The Art Bulletin, XXXVII, dezembro

de 1955, pp. 273-80.

Daniel Arasse, ele mesmo grande tradutor, ver-

teu alternativamente imagery por “iconograﬁa”

e por “imageria”.

Arasse, 1999, p. 9.

PANOFSKY, Erwin. “Die Perspektive als

‘symbolishce Form’”. In: Vortr

äge der Bibliothek

Warburg 1924-25, Leipzig / Berlin: Teubner,

1927, pp. 258-330.

Arasse está particularmente interessado na

noção de “forma simbólica”, que Panofsky

retoma de Cassirer (ver ARASSE, 1999, pp.

12-3).

Arasse, 1999, p. 45. “A imensidão na medida”,

vimos, é um dos oxímoros empregados por

São Bernardino de Siena para explicar aos ﬁéis

o mistério da Anunciação (citado por Arasse,

1999, p. 11).

Arasse, 1999, p. 19. Arasse retoma aqui Spencer

quase literalmente (Op. cit. [nota 2], p. 279):

“Despite his appeal to the twentieth century,

the reputation of Domenico Veneziano in the

ﬁfteenth century, taken with his extant works,

does not seem to permit us to credit him with

the invention of a new Annunciation”.

VASARI, Giorgio. Le vite de’ più eccellenti pit-

tori scultori e architettori. Florença: Giunti, 1568

[edição consultada: CHASTEL, André (Org.)

Les vi

és des meilleurs peintres, sculpteurs et architectes.

Paris: Berger-Levrault, III, 1983, p. 177].

LONGHI, Roberto. “Fatti di Masolino e di

Masaccio”, La critica d’arte, XXV-XXVI, n. 3-4,

julho-dezembro, 1940, pp. 145-91 [reimpressa

em: Idem, Opere complete. VIII/1. ‘Fatti di Ma

solino e di Masaccio’ e altri studi sul Quattrocento,

1910-1967. Florença: Sansoni, 1975, p. 32].

Para o atual estado da questão, ver Miklós

Boskovski (In: idem e BROWN, David Alan.

Italian Paintings of the Fifteenth Century. National

Gallery of Art, Washington. New York: Oxford

University Press, 2003, pp. 466-71), que toma,

a exemplo de uma maioria de historiadores,

o partido de Longhi, interpretando a distân

cia entre a obra e a descrição de Vasari como

“a simple lapse of memory”. Evidentemente,

Arasse (1999, p. 22) interpreta os fatos de

modo muito diferente.

Vasari, Op. cit. (nota 9). Uma outra Anunciação

de Masolino presta-se bem mais à descrição

vasariana, a que se encontra no arco de entrada

da capela de Santa Catarina em San Clemente,

Roma. São muitos os historiadores, a começar

por Roberto Longhi, que supuseram a pre-

sença de Masaccio nesse projeto romano.

ARASSE, Daniel. Figures et Structures de l’espace

chez Masolino da Panicale, diploma de estudos

superiores sob orientação de André Chastel,

Université de Paris Sorbonne, maio de 1967,

p. 131, nota 2. No mesmo ano, Arasse publi

caria um resumo de seu trabalho (“Structure

de l’espace dans l’art de Masolino da Panicale”,

L’information de l’histoire de l’art, XII, n. 5, no

vembro-dezembro, 1967, pp. 223-4).

ARASSE, Daniel. “Monde divin et monde

humain au Quattrocento”,

Médecine de France,

n. 217, 1970, p. 28, legenda. Essa maturação se

faz igualmente, à época, nos trabalhos dirigi

dos que Arasse realiza em 1969-70 na Univer

sité de Paris IV (Maurice Brock, “In Memo

rian. Daniel Arasse” (5.xi.1944 – 14.xii.2003,

Albertiana, VIII, 2005, p. 6).

Arasse, 1999, p. 15. Espera-se que reste qualquer

traço deste escrito, apenas para saber se o julga

mento severo que se dá ao autor é justiﬁcado

ou não. Seria também importante conhecer o

texto da conferência dada por Daniel Arasse

por ocasião do colóquio “L’Anunciazione in

Toscana nel Rinascimento” organizado em

Florença, entre 29 e 31 de outubro de 1986,

pela Villa I Tatti e pelo Institut Français, então

dirigido pelo próprio Arasse.

Arasse contou na rádio France Culture como

toda a documentação de sua primeira tese ti

nha-lhe sido roubada em circunstâncias muito

romanescas e como ele então havia passado

“não tanto de um mal a outro pior, mas bem

ao contrário, de Chastel a Marin!” (ARASSE,

Daniel. Histoire de peintures. Paris: France Cul

ture e Denoël, 2004, p. 107). Sua segunda tese

restará também inacabada (M. Brock, op. cit.

[nota 14], p. 3). Saberia, entretanto, opor bas

tante esquematicamente as duas “escolas”, pelo

menos para Arasse: a partir de sua dissertação

de DES, a fascinação do espaço perspectivo

deve-se, não aos escritos de Chastel, mas ao

Peinture et Soci

été de Pierre Francastel (Daniel

Arasse, op. cit, p. 107; Claudia Cieri Via, “Via

ggi in Italia. Daniel Arasse: una biograﬁa in

tellettuale”, Studiolo, 3, 2005, p. 21).

Será preciso escrever um dia a história deste

entusiasmo, e tentar sobretudo lhe apreender

os fundamentos. Ainda que ele exclua Hubert

Damisch, citemos como exemplo emblemático

desta verdadeira “conversação” a resposta da

Virgem ao Anjo na Anunciaçã

o do Prado, de

Fra Angelico – este “Fiat mihi secundum”

escondido ou incluído pela coluna entre os

protagonistas: Daniel Arasse, “Annonciation/

Énnociation. Remarques sur um énoncé pictu-

ral du Quattrocento”, Versus. Quaderni di studi

semiotici, 37, janeiro-abril, 1984, p. 11 nota

14; Louis Marin, “Énoncer une mystériuese

ﬁgure”, La Part de l’oeil, n. 3, 1987, pp. 127-

9 ; em parte retomado em Idem, Opacité de la

peinture. Essais sur la représentation au Quattrocento,

s.l., Usher, 1989, pp. 152-4; Georges Didi-Hu

berman, Fra Angelico. Dissemblance et ﬁguration.

Paris: Flammarion, 1992 [edição consultada :

Paris, Champs-Flammarion, 1996, pp. 19-23];

Arasse, 1999, pp. 137-9.

ARASSE, Daniel. “Espace pictural et image

religieuse: le point de vue de Masolino sur

la perspective” In: EMILIANI, Marisa Dalai

192 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

(Org.) La prospettiva rinacimentale. Codiﬁcazioni e

transgressioni, atos do colóquio (Milão, Castello

Sforzesco, 11-15 de outubro de 1977). Flo

rença: Centro Di, 1980, pp.137-50. Malgrado

a presença de inúmeras Anunciações, Arasse não

desenvolve sua tese na obra que ele realiza so

bre os primitivos italianos em 1978 (ARASSE,

Daniel. L’Homme en perspective. Les primitifs d’Ita

lie. Genebra: Famot, 1978).

ARASSE, Daniel. “Annonciation/Énon-

ciation...” cit. (nota 17), pp. 12-6. Foi Louis

Marin (Opacité de la peinture...cit. [nota 17], p.

144), seguido do artigo de Arasse, que batizou

assim esses dois “eixos”. Estes nomes serão

retomados em L’Annonciation italienne (Arasse,

1999, p. 29).

Arasse, “Annonciation/Énonciation...” cit.

(nota 17), p. 17.

Ibidem, p. 15.

Citado notadamente por Louis Marin, Opacité

de la peinture... cit. (nota 17), p. 161, nota 32.

Arasse, 1999, p. 9. No recente colóquio dedi-

cado a Daniel Arasse e organizado pelo INHA,

de 8 a 10 de junho de 2006, Hubert Damisch

comentou sobre os desacordos que teceram a

relação intelectual entre os dois historiadores.

Omar Calabrese, que havia aceito em 1984 o

artigo de Daniel Arasse na revista Versus, ex

plicou essa evolução entre os textos de 1984

e de 1999 pelo fato de que Arasse “queria ser

historiador, historiador, historiador”. As co

municações desses dois pesquisadores demons

traram o quanto eles eram mais próximos da

dimensão semiótica do pensamento de Daniel

Arasse que de suas proposições históricas.

Além disso, é sempre com algumas variantes

que Daniel Arasse desenvolve em outras ins

tâncias o tema da Anunciação: ARASSE, Da

niel. “La ﬁn du Moyen-Âge et la première Re

naissance. Peinture et Sculpture” In: MOREL,

Philippe / ARASSE, Daniel / D’ONOFRIO,

Mario. L’art italien du IVe si

ècle à la Renaissance.

Paris: Citadelles & Mazenod, 1997, pp. 268-

71; Idem, “Leonardo da Vinci e la prospet

tiva dell’Annunciazione”, In Antonio Natali

(Org.) L’Annunciazione di Leonardo. La montagna

sul mar

é. Cinisello Balsamo: Silvana, 2000, pp.

15-35; Idem, Histoires de peintures cit. (nota 16),

pp. 49-81.

MEISS, Millard. “Light as Form and Symbol

in Some Fifteenth-Century Paintings”, The Art

Bulletin, XXVII, 1945, pp.43-68 [retomado em

idem, The Painter’s Choice. Problems in the Inter

pretation of Renaissance Art, New York, Hagers

town, San Francisco, London: Harper & Row,

1976, pp. 3-18].

Charles Dempsey, “Entre histoire et théorie”,

Revue de l’art, n. 148/2005-2, pp. 66-9.

A pintura do reﬂexo pode evidentemente dar

uma informação espacial, mas é verdade tam

bém que ela escapa ao espaço ﬁgurativo: Leon

Battista Alberti não recomenda, em seu De Pic

tura, o uso do branco “último” para representar

“o brilho extremo das superfícies mais polidas”

(Leon Battista Alberti, De la peinture. De Pictura

(1435), Paris: Macula, Dédale, 1992, p. 197)?

Arasse, 1999, p. 83. Sobre esta obra em par-

ticular, ver também idem, “L’enceite surprise

de Marie: remarques sur um Annonciation sien-

noise” In: Bertrand Rougé (Org.), La surprise,

atos do colóquio (Pau, CICADA, 9-11 de maio

de 1996), Pau, Publications de l’Université de

Pau, 1998, pp. 63-72. Acomodando-o a um es

quema pré-perspectivo, Lippo Vanni e sobre

tudo Biagio di Goro Ghezzi teriam interpretado

contrariamente esta “intrusão luminosa”.

Título do primeiro capítulo de Arasse, 1999.

Arasse, 1999, pp. 290-93. Esses raios luminosos

são colocados no mesmo plano que as nuvens

celestiais que irrompem nesse tipo de cena.

O que mais impressionou os contemporâneos

de Brunelleschi na “experiência” do Batistério

foi precisamente o caráter mimético de tal re-

presentação: “Pareva Che si vedessi ‘l próprio

vero”, nos diz Antonio Manetti, Vita di Filippo

Brunelleschi [ca. 1482-1494], Carachaira Petrone

(Org.), Roma: Salerno Editrice, 1992, p. 57.

DAMISCH, Hubert. Théorie du nuage. Pour

une histoire de la peinture. Paris: Seuil, 1972,

pp. 164-71. Neste momento, há apenas duas

etapas no processo pictural, no lugar de três

colocados por Alberti e Piero della Francesca.

Essa “demonstração” [em francês, “mise en

lumière”; esclarecimento] encontra-se nos dois

teóricos, sob o nome de “recepção das luzes”

no primeiro, e de “aplicação de cores” no se

gundo. Isso faz pensar que existe uma certa

redundância entre as duas primeiras etapas,

que não são, além disso, estritamente idênticas,

“circunscrição” e “composição” em Alberti,

“desenho” e “comensuração” em Piero.

São Pedro e seu nicho em Orsanmichele fo-

ram quase que certamente concebidos por

Filippo Brunelleschi (ver Luciano Bellosi,

“Da Brunelleschi a Masaccio: le origini del

Rinascimento” In: idem, Laura Cavazzini e

Aldo Galli (Org.), Masaccio e le origini del Rinas

cimento, cat. exp. [San Giovanni Valdarno, Casa

Masaccio, 20 de setembro a 21 de dezembro

de 2002], Genebra e Milão, Skira, 2002, pp.

21-24); sobre as marchetarias da Sacristia de

Missas, ver Margaret Haines, The “Sacrestia delle

Messe” of the Florentine Cathedral. Florença: Cassa

di Risparmio di Firenze, 1983.

Manetti, Op. cit. (nota 31), p. 55. É signiﬁ-

cativo ver Manetti falar de mármore “negro”

para o verde di prato. Também daltônico, Vasari,

Op. cit. (nota 9), p. 195 indica-nos ademais que

Brunelleschi transmite seu saber “ao jovem

Masaccio” e àqueles que “trabalham a marche

taria, arte de justapor as madeiras coloridas”.

Parece aqui razoável relembrar que o jovem

Masaccio trabalhou, talvez, primeiramente,

em um ateliê de marchetaria em madeira (ver

Eliot W. Rowlands, Masaccio: Saint Andrew and

the Pisa Altarpiece. Los Angeles: Getty, 2003,

pp. 10-1): teria ele contribuído, com Filippo

Brunelleschi, para o nascimento da marche

taria perspectiva? Essa prática poderia ser in

vocada para explicar o caráter revolucionário

de seu estilo, feita justamente de justaposições

de zonas claras e escuras?

André Chastel tinha escrito um artigo pio-

neiro sobre a relação entre marchetaria e

perspectiva (“Marqueterie et perspective au

XVe siècle”, Revue des arts, III, 1953, pp. 141-

54 [retomado em Idem, Fables, formes, ﬁgures.

Paris: Flammarion, 1978, I, pp. 316-332]). A

idéia será largamente desenvolvida por Mas

simo Ferretti, “I maestri della prospettiva” In:

Federico Zeri (org.), Storia dell’arte italiana. 11.

Forme e modelli, Turim, Giulio Einaudi Editore,

1982, pp. 459-585, que tomará o cuidado de

se afastar dos pressupostos panofskyanos (p.

494). Hubert Damisch criticará essa atitude

de maneira ferrenha e excessiva (L’origine de

la perspective. Paris: Flammarion, 1987 [edição

consultada: Paris: Champs-Flammarion, 1993,

p. 255, nota 57]).

Para retomar a fórmula de Cézanne para Pis-

sarro em uma carta de 2 de julho e 1876 (In:

Paul Cézanne, Correspondance, John Rewald

(Org.). Paris: Grasset, 1978, p. 152).

MARCHI, Andréa de. “Domenico Veneziano

alla mostra degli Ufﬁzi: appunti e veriﬁche”,

Kermes, VII, n. 20, maio-agosto de 1994, p. 37.

BELLOSI, Luciano (org.). Pittura di luce: Gio-

vanni di Fransceo e l’arte ﬁorentina di metà Quat

trocento, cat. exp. (Florença: Casa Buonarroti,

16 de maio a 20 de agosto de 1990). Milão:

Olivetti e Electa, 1990.

BELLOSI, Luciano. “Giovanni Francesco

e l’arte ﬁorentina di metà Quattrocento” In:

ibidem, p. 11.

Arasse, 1999, p. 351 nota 102. Arasse se en-

gana na origem da citação e menciona, no

lugar do catálogo de 1990, uma exposição

de tema semelhante, mas centrada em Piero

della Francesca, organizada nos Ufﬁzi dois

anos mais tarde (Luciano Bellosi [org.], Una

scuola per Piero. Luce, colore e prospettiva nella

formazione ﬁorentina di Piero della Francesca, cat.

exp. [Florença, Galleria degli Ufﬁzi, 27 de

setembro de 1992 a 10 de janeiro de 1993]

Veneza, Marsílio, 1992): qualquer menção do

catálogo Pittura di luce desaparecia então de

L’Annonciation italienne...

Para uma análise desta questão historiográﬁca,

ver meu artigo “Pittura di luce: gênese de uma

noção”, a ser publicado em Studiolo, 5, 2007.

Luciano Bellosi, “Giovanni di Francesco...”

cit. [nota 39], p. 24.

Luciano Bellosi recentemente propôs ver em

Masaccio um dos instigadores da pittura di luce

RHAA 6 193

Traduções/Translations

ﬂorentina (Luciano Bellosi, “Da Brunelleschi

a Masaccio...” cit. [nota 33], p. 38). Se Piero

della Francesca é unanimemente considerado

como um herdeiro dos princípios de seu mes

tre Domenico Veneziano, sua relação artística

com Antonello da Messina e Giovanni Bellini,

proposta por Roberto Longhi (“Piero dei Fran

ceschi e lo sviluppo della pittura veneziana”,

L’Arte, XVII, 1914, pp. 198-221 e 241-256 [re

publicada em: Idem, Opere complete. I. Scritti gio

vanili, 1912-1922, Florença, Sansoni, 1961, I, pp.

61-106]), resta, ainda hoje, muito discutível.

A obra foi recentemente exposta em Nova

York, com uma atribuição a Pesellino que eu

contestei (Laurence Kanter e Pia Palladino,

Fra Angelico, cat. exp. [Nova York, The Metro

politan Museum of Art, 26 de outubro de 2005

a 29 de janeiro de 2006], Nova York, New

Haven e Londres, The Metropolitan Museum

of Art e Yale University Press, 2005, cat. 52;

Neville Rowley, “Le ambiguità dell’Angelico”,

Prospettiva, a ser publicado).

Sobre a Anunciação da Sacristia das Missas,

veja-se Haines, op.cit. (nota 33), pp. 165-173.

De modo sugestivo, Vasari associa Attavante

degli Attavanti com três protagonistas da

pittura di luce: ele o torna aos poucos aluno

de Fra Angelico, depois de Bartolomeo della

Gatta, assim como atribui miniaturas que ali

são feitas a Pesellino.

Trata-se de Florença, cujo símbolo é um lírio

vermelho. (Nota da tradutora)

Três obras que, por razões diferentes, altera-

ram um pouco a paternidade depois que Da

niel Arasse falou a respeito disto: a Anunciaçã

de Avignon não é mais “que atribuída a” Bar

tolomeo della Gatta, o “Mestre da Anuncia

ção Gardner” foi identiﬁcado com Piermatteo

d’Amelia, enquanto as obras atribuídas outrora

a Girolamo di Giovanni da Camerino reve

laram-se como tendo sido pintadas por Gio

vanni Angelo d’Antonio da Bolognola.

Arasse, 1999, p. 224.

Ibidem, p. 9.

Lucas, I-35. O interrogatio é uma das cinco

fases da Anunciação tal como a decompôs

Michael Baxandall, baseando-se no sermão

de Fra Roberto Caracciolo da Lecce (Michael

Baxandall, Painting and Experience in Fifteenth

Century Italy, Oxford, Oxford University Press,

1972 [ edição consultada: L’oeil du Quattrocento,

Paris, Gallimard, 1985, pp. 82-88]).

Essa observação foi feita em primeiro lugar

por Leo Steinberg: “‘How Shall This Be’ Part

I”, Artibus et Historiae, n. 16, 1987, p. 34. Existe

uma outra versão da obra de Gentile numa co

leção privada nova-iorquina. Keith Christian

sen (In Fra Carnevale. Un’artista rinascimentale

da Filippo Lippi a Piero della Francesca, cat. exp.

[Milão: Pinacoteca di Brera, 13 de outubro de

2004 a 9 de janeiro de 2005 e Nova York, The

Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1

de fevereiro a

de maio de 2005], Milão, Olivares, 2004, pp.

147-148) também interpretou, na Anunciação

de Filippo Lippi da Frick Collection de Nova

York, uma sombra projetada sobre a Virgem

em função do texto de São Lucas. Essa inter

pretação tem ainda mais o ar de ser pertinente,

uma vez que não é isolada.

Arasse, 1999, p. 83.

5354

Passaríamos, assim, da sombra de Gentile

à luz de Piero, para parafrasear o título de

um importante artigo de Andrea de Marchi

dedicado à pintura dos Marche (Andrea de

Marchi, “Pittori a Camerino nel Quattrocento:

le ombre di Gentile e la luce di Piero” In:

Idem (Org.), Pittori a Camerino nel Quattrocento,

Milão, Federico Motta, 2002, pp. 24-99). Por

outro lado, Louis Marin já havia interpretado

o dispositivo de luz da Anunciação de Piero

della Francesca de Arezzo como sendo de

ordem divina (Louis Marin, “Ruptures, in

terruptions, syncopes dans la représentation

de peinture” In: Ellipses, blancs, silences, atos do

colóquio [Pau, Université de Pau et des pays

de l’Adour], 1992, pp. 77-86 [republicado em:

Idem, De la repr

ésentation, Paris, Gallimard, Le

Seuil, 1994, pp. 374-75).

Samuel Y. Edgerton Jr., “‘How Shall That Be’

Part II”, Artibus et Historiae, n. 16, 1987, p. 46.

Idem, “Munsurare temporalia facit Geometria spiri-

tualis: Some Fifteenth-Century Italian Notions

about When and Where the Annunciation Ha

ppened” In: Irving Lavin & John Plummer

(Org.), Studies in Late Medieval and Renaissance

Painting in Honor of Millard Meiss. New York,

New York University Press, 1977, I, pp. 118-9.

Luciano Bellosi, “Giovanni di Francesco...”

cit. (nota 39), pp. 11-2.

A Anunciação de Domenico Veneziano [Fig. 1]

foi qualiﬁcada inúmeras vezes de “impressio

nista”. Entretanto, não se trata de modo algum

de uma pintura “sur le motif”.

Antonino ali foi padre de 1439 a 1444, e Fra

Angelico, de 1450 a 1452.

As estrelas do teto das loggie das Anunciações

de Madri, Cortona e San Giovani Valdarno

podem, com efeito, sugerir uma atmosfera

noturna.

Incisões no painel do Armadio fazem supor

que a composição inicialmente prevista era

mais próxima das outras Anunciações de Fra

Angelico (Spencer, Op. cit. [nota 2], p. 276).

O Ashmolean Museum de Oxford conserva

uma cópia desta obra; a única diferença, à ex

ceção de sua qualidade bem diminuta, é que

se acrescentaram incisões de ouro emanando

da pomba do Espírito Santo.

Em 1435, data do De Pictura, Fra Angelico

aplica a perspectiva centrada depois de muito

tempo, ao passo que continua a usar ouro

sobre seus painéis. O que leva a pensar que,

longe de ser um predicado naturalista, a luz

diurna que invade as obras do pintor a par

tir dos anos 1430 constitui uma espécie de

equivalente espiritual do fundo de ouro da

tradição gótica.

Edgerton, “Mensurare temporalia...” cit. (nota

54), pp. 125-6.

Timothy Verdon (“L’incarnazione e la città

del ﬁore: l’Annunciazione nell’arte ﬁorentina”,

Arte cristiana, LXXXVIII, n. 798, maio-junho

de 200, p. 230) intepreta uma outra Anunciaçã

de Fra Angelico, a do claustro 3 de San Marco,

de um modo que parece vir de encontro ao

que foi dito aqui: “Oltre [all’] Angelo e [alla]

Vergine ... c’è qui um terzo attore in scena,

uma terza componente dell’azione centrale

dell’evento. La luce Che avanza delicamente da

sinistra a destra: Che entre cioè com l’Angelo

e dolcemente illumina, riempiendolo, lo spazio

interno in cui si svolge l’evento, qui diventa

quase soggetto visivo principale. Al momento

stesso in cui Maria concepisce Cristo nel suo

grembo, noi vediamo ‘la luce vera che illumina

ogni uomo’ [João I, 9] riempire lo spazio di

questo chiostro como Cristo ‘riempie’ e colma

la vita di Maria.”

Se não há lugar para discutir aqui a cronologia

das obras de Filippo Lippi, nos contentaremos

em assinalar que esta está longe de ser escla

recida para esse período.

Além da interpretação que tende a considerar

o quadro como um retábulo desde sua origem

(Christa Gardner von Teuffel, “Lorenzo Mo-

naco, Filippo Lippi und Filippo Brunelleschi:

die Erﬁndung der Renaissancepala”, Zeitschrift

für Kunstgeschichte, 45, n. 1, 1982, pp. 18-19), pro-

pôs-se alternativamente que as duas metades

da obra eram painéis laterais de um órgão

(Jeffrey Ruda, “A 1434 Building Programme

for San Lorenzo in Florence”, The Burlington

Magazine, CXX, n. 903, junho de 1978, p. 361;

Eliot W. Rowlands, “Filippo Lippi and His

Experience of Painting in the Veneto Region”,

Artibus et Historiae, X, n. 19, 1989, p. 80 nota

32) ou as portas de um armário de relíquias

(Francis Ames-Lewis, “Fra Filippo Lippi’s S.

Lorenzo Anunciation”, Storia dell’arte, 69, maio-

agosto, 1990, p. 156). É essa última hipótese

que retoma Arasse, 1999, p. 142. Mais recente

mente, Cristoph Mezenich (“Filippo Lippi: ein

Altarwerk für Ser Michele di Fruosino und die

Verk

ündigung in San Lorenzo zu Florenz”, Mit-

teilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz,

XLI, n. 1/2, 1997, pp. 69-92) supôs até que a

obra não seria proveniente de San Lorenzo,

mas de Sant’Egidio.

Deste modo, o capitel da pilastra central que

passa, inexplicavelmente, da sombra à luz,

alcançando a linha mediana do quadro. Um

estudo do painel com luz rasante evidenciou

três linhas horizontais, pontuadas de pontas

de pregos à direita e pequenas lacunas à es

194 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

The man in black behind the

court

Nancy Ridel Kaplan

Post-Doctoral Researcher, Department of History

Institute of Philosophy and Human Sciences

(IFCH/Unicamp)

Among the members of the court

of the Gonzaga in the north wall of

the Camera picta [Figs.1 e 2],

we can

ﬁnd a man with grayish hair soberly

dressed in black among the vivaciously

colored garbs and the damascene tis-

sues [Fig.3]. His identity is unknown. A

possible explanation is that he could be

the humanist and educator Vittorino da

Feltre (c.1378-1446),

a founding ﬁgure

of the Mantuan humanism.

When Mantegna (1430/31-1506)

scribbled the date of 1474, which cor

responded to the end of the works of

decoration of the Camera picta, in the

dedicatory to the marquis Ludovico

(1414-1478), Vittorino has already been

death for twenty-eight years.

Ludovico III Gonzaga, second Man-

tuan marquis, was one of the greatest

patrons of the Quattrocento. The exten-

sive correspondence kept in the Man

tuan archives reveals his personal effort

in each project.

The Gonzaga were feudatory of

the province. The most ancient an

cestral that we can keep track of is a

bourgeois, Filippo Corradi, whose

descendants were called dei Corradi di

Gonzaga, probably by living next to the

Gunziaga, an afﬂuent of the Po river.

In 1189, Corbello Gonzaga was coun

selor of the Mantuan Podest

à and, ten

years later, he received the Campitel

lo’s feud. In December 1287, Guido

Gonzaga received a great extension

of lands from the Benedictines of the

San Benedetto di Polirone monastery.

He was a member of the Concil that

elected Rinaldo Bonacolsi as the Lord

of Mantua. In August 16, 1328, the Bo

nacolsi were banished from the city by

a revolt commanded by the Gonzaga.

One of Guido’s sons, Ludovico (1268-

1360), owner of a great fortune, become

the general Capitain of Mantua, lord of

the city, which the family governed up

until 1708. Ludovico had as his suces

sors in the role of general Capitain the

son, Guido, the grandson Ludovico II,

and the grandgrandson Francesco. In

1433, Gianfrancesco (1407-44), the son

of Francesco and Margherita Malatesta,

obtained the title of marquis of Man

querda. Merzenich (Op. cit. [nota 64], p. 75)

deduz que os dois painéis foram elaborados e

pintados em ateliês diferentes. A simetria entre

os dois conjuntos de pregos nos parece, entre

tanto, por demais estrita para ser fortuita.

Andrea de Marchi (“Norma e varità nella

transizione dal polittico all pala quadra” In:

Gigetta Dalli Regoli (Org.), Storia dell arti in To

scana. 3. Il Quattrocento. Florença: Ediﬁr, 2002,

p. 203) assim podia se perguntar recentemente:

“Chi potrà mai spiegare le discontinuità ma

teriche fra le due metà dell’Annunciazione di

Filippo Lippi poi ﬁnita in San Lorenzo e che

pure nacque como una pala unitária?”.

RUDA, Jeffrey. Fra Filippo Lippi. Life and Work

with a Complete Catalogue. London: Phaidon,

1992, cat. 14; CHRISTIANSEN, Keith. In: Fra

Carnevale...cit. (nota 50), cat. 3. Não podemos

concordar com a intepretação deste último

autor quando ele aﬁrma (p. 147): “il mondo

iluminato dal sole di Domenico Veneziano è

antitetico” à visão de Lippi (sobre esta questão,

cf. meu artigo “La Renaissance de Fra Car

nevale”, Annali dell’Università di Ferrara. Sezione

storia, n. 2, outubro de 2005, pp. 89-90).

WHITE, John. The Birth and Rebirth of Pictorial

Space. London: Faber and Faber, 1957 [edição

consultada: Naissance et Renaissance de l’espace

pictural. Paris: Adam Biro, 2003, pp. 187-91].

Essa análise será retomada por Arasse, 1999,

pp. 142-3.

O exemplo primordial, a Anunciação de Do-

menico Veneziano [Fig. 1], contradiz esse

esquema. O conjunto do retábulo responde,

todavia, a uma lógica luminosa que é incontes-

tável (cf. Helmut Wohl, The Paintings of Domenico

Veneziano, ca. 1410-1461: A Study in Florentine

Art of the Early Renaissance, Oxford, Phaidon,

1980, pp. 45-7). No fragmento de Cambridge,

o modo como o sol corta, em torno de Ga

briel, um retângulo luminoso sobre o muro

colocado atrás dele deveria, a meu ver, ser

interpretado de modo simbólico.

Citado por Arasse, 1999, p. 11.

Mezernich, Op.cit. (nota 64), p. 77. É sobre-

tudo em seu artigo de 1984 que Daniel Arasse

insiste sobre a ruptura temporal da Anuncia

ção (“Annonciation/Énonciation...” cit. [nota

17], pp. 15-6).

Edgerton, “‘How Shall This Be?’ Part II”... cit.

(nota 53), p. 47. O artigo de Edgerton, e seu par

escrito por Leo Steinberg (op. cit. [nota 50]),

tinham por objeto uma outra Anunciação de Fi

lippo Lippi, da National Gallery de Londres.

Ainda que reconhecendo o valor literário do

ensaio de Edgerton, Daniel Arasse veio a duvi-

dar da pertinência de sua interpretação, por de

mais única segundo ele, a ponto de privilegiar

uma leitura mais pessoal da obra (compare-se

Arasse, 1999, pp.151-6 com Idem, Histoires de

peintures, cit. [nota 16], pp.75-77). Desde então,

Charles Dempsey (op. cit. [nota 26]) colocou a

obra de Filippo Lippi em paralelo com a Anun-

ciação de Poussin já citada. Nossa interpretação

de duas outras Anunciações do mesmo Lippi te

ria também tendência a reforçar essa hipótese,

que não seria necessariamente muito teológica

para um monge carmelita.

Millard Meiss (Op. cit. [nota 25], p. 17, nota

27) já havia interpretado o sentido simbólico

dessa garrafa. Altamente signiﬁcativa também

é a sombra, minuciosamente pintada, que dali

emana.

Entre os inúmeros temas abordados por Da-

niel Arasse, os da Anunciação e da perspectiva

ocupam um lugar muito singular para que pos

samos aqui tentar deduzir um método geral.

Sobre esse tema, esperando a publicação dos

atos do colóquio “Daniel Arasse”, nos permi

tiremos citar a análise penetrante de Maurice

Brock, op. cit. (nota 14), p. 6: “a maior parte

dos trabalhos de Daniel Arasse se revestem

de um ar metodológico. Eles talvez não sejam

isentos de imprudências e de erros, mas são

sempre estimulantes, não tanto porque eles

exporiam ou aplicariam com rigor o método

perfeitamente conceitualizado inicialmente,

mas, ao contrário, porque são feitos freqüente

mente, e para retomar uma de suas expressões,

de uma “bricolagem conceitual”. Ver também,

por último, o número de junho de 2006 da

revista Esprit, dedicada a Daniel Arasse.

ARASSE, Daniel. L’ambition de Vermeer. Paris:

Adam Biro, 1993, ed. 2001, pp. 168-78.

RHAA 6 195

Traduções/Translations

tua in exchange for 120.000 gold ﬂorins

paid to Sigismundo, emperor of the Ro

mano-Germanic Sacred Empire. In the

same year, his heir Ludovico married

with Barbara of Brandenburg, nephew

of the emperor. The marriage was ar

ranged during the childhood of both

and Barbara was living in the court

since then. She was a cult and intel

ligent woman, educated as she was by

Vittorino da Feltre, and she kept corre

spondance with erudits and artists. She

was considered by her contemporaries as

an example of wife and mother, and her

main preocupation was the education of

her ten children. The entailments with

the imperial court through the kinship

of Barbara Hohenzollern of Branden

burg showed useful to the family.

The Gonzaga were condottieri. They

fought for money for the courts of Mi

lan, Venice, Florence, and Naples, and,

in some occasions, for two rival cities

at the same time. Gianfrancesco disin

herited Ludovico in 1437 for ﬁghting

for the duke of Milan while his father

served the Venetians. Latter on, he was

pardoned and reintegrated as an heir.

He becomes marquis of Mantua in the

year of 1444.

In the middle of the ﬁfteenth-cen

tury, Mantua had a population of near

25.000 inhabitants. It was a city of the

same size than the neighbor Ferrara and

smaller than Venice or Milan. The po

litical situation was stable, thanks to the

diplomacy, to the efﬁcient elimination

of the rivals, even among the family

members themselves, and to a series of

matrimonial alliances with the reigning

families of the northern courts.

The ducal palace, the former Palazzo

Del Capitano, seat of the commune in

the main piazza, was the center, and

the symbol of power. The addition of

the San Giorgio castle, a square fortiﬁed

tower that received improvements dur

ing the fourteenth-century, augmented

it in size.

Gianfrancesco realized many works

in Mantua, but it was his son Ludovico,

who commanded the city from 1444

to 78, who transformed it in one of the

main centers of the Renaissance.

Ludovico, known as the

Turk, had a

reputation for being a competent sol

dier and politician and he enriched the

city. In the year of 1459, he was able

to persuade Pius II to chose Mantua

as the seat of the congress that should

promote the crusade against the Turks,

the Mantuan Diet, suggesting the pres

ence of Frederico III, which did not

happen to occur, as neither happen the

crusade, despite the papal court had re

mained there for nine months. Perhaps

behind the choice of Mantua a poetic

issue was also present, since it was the

native land of Virgil.

In the Commen-

tarii,

the pope wrote that “to the Pius

Aeneas, it seemed a necessary courtesy

to return to the homeland of the Ae

neas Singer the glory that the tender

Virgil had legated to that name.”

For the ﬁrst time, Mantua was the

center of a historical event and it at

tracted the attention of the western

world. Ludovico made urban changes

with the aim of welcoming condignly

the pope, his court, the emperor, and

the princes, all of them being guests at

his own expenses.

The Diet did not have political reach.

It lasted eight months. The pope and

his court needed to wait for the other

participants, while the Turks were tak

ing over Athens and were invading the

Peloponnesus. In the words of Eugenio

Garin,

“it was an empty congress, sur-

rounded by suspiciousness and hostili

ties”. The heat was intense and humid

and some cardinals complained of be

ing conduced to Mantua to die there,

as in reality happened to the Sienese

orator, Giovanni di Mignanelli.

For Mantua, nevertheless, this was

an admirable period. To headquarter

the congress was an important dip

lomatic victory for Mantua, for it es

tablished the city as the new Rome. In

the farewell, the marquis Gonzaga and

his wife followed the pope by the river

up until Revere. Despite the excessive

expenses with the event, Ludovico at

tained great personal prestige. He was

able to make the pope declare as truth

ful the relic with the Holy Blood of

Christ, kept in Sant’Andrea’s crypt and,

in the following year, he obtained the

cardinalate for his second son, Franc

esco, who was only 17 years old.

Notwithstanding, the papal court

did not get well impressed with the

city. Pius II criticized the muddy streets

and its unpleasant look. Ludovico’s an

swer was to initiate an urban renewal

program that modiﬁed the look of the

center of the city, with many works in

the ducal palace and in the other cas

tles.

He started by transferring him-

self from the Corte Vecchia to the San

Giorgio castle, restructured by Luca Fan

celli (1430-95).

He paved the streets,

restored the Old Market and the Palazzo

Del Podest

à, and he started the construc-

tion of a new tower for the clock.

The great project of Ludovico’s fa

ther, Gianfrancesco, was the decoration

of the reception hall of the ducal palace.

He hired Pisanello (c.1395-1455),

who

painted a fresco with the theme of King

Arthur and the Knights of the Round

Table in search for the Holy Grail, the

cup with which Joseph of Arimathaea

took the blood of the cruciﬁed Jesus.

In Mantua, the representation of this

legend has a special meaning because

the city, the ﬁrst to be Christianized in

the peninsula, is the keeper of the Grail

with the Holy Blood, brought from the

Holy Land by Saint Longuinus

short

after the cruciﬁxion

. The source for

Pisanello’s painting was a French ro

mance of the Arthurian cycle in the

library of the Gonzaga family and it in

cluded portraits of the gonzaghesca court.

The portraits were a reference to the

mystical descending of the Christian

kings brought to Mantua by the mar

riage of Guido Gonzaga with Beatriz

of Lorena, his third wife. The little

that remained from this fresco, which

was unconcluded and recovered some

196 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

years ago, shows knights with swords

and spears and horses equipped with

the colors of the Gonzaga, reputed

breeders of thoroughbred horses that

fulﬁlled the European courts. Both the

style and the theme, the tournament,

were typical of the current taste for the

visual expression of the aristocratic ide

als of certain nobility that owed loyalty

to the feudal lord. The fresco fulﬁlled

the need of dynastic afﬁrmation and

gloriﬁcation of the Gonzaga family.

To give expression to the new image

that he wanted for Mantua, Ludovico

received the help of Alberti (1404-1472),

the great theorist of the Renaissance. In

the place of the late-gothic style and the

cavalry themes, Ludovico opted for the

language of the ancient Rome. It is prob

able that Ludovico was inﬂuenced by

Sigismondo Malatesta, lord of Rimini,

who initiated the reframing works of the

Malatestian Temple in 1450, in accord

ance with the drawings made by Alberti

that were based in the architecture of

the Antiquity. As Malatesta, Ludovico

was the lord of a small and relatively less

inﬂuent state and he needed to match it

to cities like Francesco Sforza’s Milan,

which adopted the gothic as a style. The

choice of Ludovico made his court to be

different and imposing. The language

of Antiquity suggested the association

with a great imperial power. The move

to the San Giorgio castle proposed the

idea of Rome’s continuity by the shape

of fortress-tower, which resembles the

Castel Sant’Angelo in Rome.

The use of the classical style became

an instrument of self-celebration for the

marquis and his family, and the renewal

of the city was like the renewal of the

Empire. To put in practice this pro

gram it was fundamental to have the

presence of the young Paduan painter

Andrea Mantegna

who, around 1457,

Ludovico Gonzaga was able to persuade

to work for him and to establish himself

in Mantua as the court painter.

The ﬁrst commission that Ludovico

did to Mantegna was a sacred theme for

the castle chapel. Following, came the

great decoration project of the Camera

picta, or Camera degli sposi

as it was later

known, the representation room of the

San Giorgio castle. His father had chosen

the Arthurian theme, of the ideal of the

courtesan cavalry typically mediaeval.

In the place of it, Ludovico commis

sioned to Mantegna the painting of

a cycle of frescoes that could express

visually the prestige of the Mantuan

court, and could accentuate its associa

tion with the imperial traditions of the

ancient Rome and not with the North

European courts. The chosen themes

for the iconographical program were

dynastic and imperial.

The Camera picta

is a cubic room,

with walls that measure 8.05 meters,

and it occupy the ﬁrst ﬂoor of the

northern tower of the San Giorgio cas

tle, built by Bertolino Novara between

1393 and 1406. The room has two

windows, the north and the east ones.

The roof is an arch that ends in a plain

surface. After the death of Ludovico, it

became the place where they kept to

gether the goods of value of the family.

In the life dedicated to Mantegna, Vasari

cites brieﬂy the fresco: “In the same place

[the castle], there are many foreshortened ﬁgures

from bottom to top greatly praised because, de

spite the garments being hard and rigid and the

manner somewhat dry, we can see that all there

are made with great art and exactitude”.

Perhaps Vasari could have not entered

into the room and for that reason, he

do not describe it so well. It is possible

also that his enthusiasm with the Room

of the Giants (1530-35) in the Tè palace,

which Vasari describes in detail, a work

of his friend and for whom the biogra

pher was also a guest, Giulio Romano

(1492/99-1546), could turn difﬁcult a

correct appreciation of the frescoes of

Mantegna. After all, in the roof of the

Room of the Giants, Giulio placed

the seat

of Jupiter in a balustrade very similar to

the eyeglass at the Camera picta.

According to an inscription, the be

ginning of the works of painting in the

Camera picta was June 16, 1465. In the

arches, Mantegna painted medallions

with the ﬁrst eight Roman emperors,

and in the lunettes, he painted relieves

with stories from Greek mythology,

which claims that the Gonzaga family

had an ancient and ideal ascendancy.

The choice for the myth of Orpheus

should also be a reference to Ludovico’s

esteem for music.

In the center of the roof, Mantegna

painted an eyeglass open to the sky, sur

rounded by a balustrade, with women

from the court and putti that look to the

marquis and his privileged world. This

is the ﬁrst example, since Antiquity, of

an illusionist decorative painting, of

trompe l’oeil

In two walls, there are painted cur

tains and in the other two, there are

frescoes of Ludovico and his relatives

in a court environment and in front

of a landscape. In the west wall, in the

Meeting, Ludovico is at open air in the

middle of his heirs, dressed with ofﬁcial

garbs, the marquis as condottiero and the

son Francesco with the garb of cardinal.

There is no consensus in relation to the

meaning of the scene or who are the

other characters. Whatever be the inter

pretation, it is doubtless that the nomi

nation of Francesco as a cardinal was

a fundamental event to the Gonzaga

family, who reached in this way the

legitimization of their own power by

the pope and could dream for higher

ambitions. The Meeting, which happens

before a city, an idealized Rome, is the

expression of a political program that

projects for the family the desire to reach

the papacy itself.

In the north wall, Mantegna repre

sented Ludovico close to his family in

a porch, the Roman atrium. The group

is in front of a balustrade decorated

with marble circles, beyond which one

can see a space with vegetation, as a

closed garden, a hortus conclusus, which

reminds Masaccio’s (1401-28) Raising of

the Son of Theophilus

in the Brancacci

chapel.

RHAA 6 197

Traduções/Translations

It is the same typology of the clas-

sical Roman buildings, the Domus and

the Pantheon. It has the symbolic value

of being the residence of the emperor,

who was identiﬁed with the sun, one of

the emblems of the Gonzaga.

The Court scene is a domestic and

private portrait. With assurance, we can

recognize only the marquis Ludovico

[Fig.4] and his wife, Barbara [Fig.5].

Their children, relatives, and courtesans

surround them. Nonetheless, behind

the couple, in the shadow, we can see

the men in black [Fig.2]. Of him, we

can only see the head and a part of the

chest, as an ancient bust. He is a serious

ﬁgure, of great dignity, who keeps the

eyes downward in a face marked by his

age. There is a medal [Fig.6] made by

Pisanello short after the death of Vit

torino da Feltre, occurred in February

2, 1446,

which shows likeness with the

Court painting. The man in black is in

a position at the same time as discrete

as central, for we see him between the

reigning couple, and that fact surely

indicates his importance. Moreover,

in reality, Vittorino conferred a special

style to the Gonzaga court and turned

the city into a center of culture.

In 1422, the marquis Gianfrancesco,

Ludovico’s father, invited Vittorino da

Feltre to settle in Mantua in order that

he could be the preceptor of his chil

dren and could take care of the library.

The aim, despite being to ﬁnd an ex

cellent preceptor to his children, was

to legitimate the power of the family

by having at his service a men so cult.

Vittorino’s presence and actions gave to

Mantua the prestige that Gianfrancesco

so much desired.

Born in Feltre, in the Venetian Alps,

around 1378, Vittorino di ser Bruto dei

Rambaldoni da Feltre went to Padua

with eighteen years old. There, he lived

the next nineteen years, with the excep

tion of two brief periods in Venice, un

til he moved deﬁnitively to Mantua.

According to Baldassare Castiglione,

his pupil for eight years, Vittorino’s

family had a good social position in

Feltre. Vespasiano da Bistici

describes

them as onesti parenti. The father, Bruto

de’ Rabaldoni, was a notary of little re

sources. Vittorino, who always needed

to work in order to survive and to study,

considered labor as a motive for human

ennoblement. His attitude in front of

richness was contemptuous and he

possessed only the essential. Francesco

Prendilacqua,

pupil and biographer

of Vittorino da Feltre, wrote about the

house that the marquis Gonzaga gave to

him: “Vittorino bought in the Mantuan

suburb a little kitchen garden, with few

vines, the ancient dwelling of our Poet

who, according to the proud tradition of

our co-citizens, was born there. Moreo

ver, this place, very close to the city, he

frequented with the disciples in a sign of

veneration. We here call it the Mount of

Virgil: it is a little bit higher than are the

others and is prominent above the hills.

This is the richness of Vittorino.” Ac

cording to Signorini,

Vittorino had the

right of its fruition but not of its prop

erty, which was located in Pietole,

the

ancient Andes where Virgil was born.

We do not know anything about

his studies in Feltre. In Padua, he fre

quented the public courses on dialec

tics, philosophy, and rhetoric of the

University. He faced many ﬁnancial

difﬁculties, for the courses were free

of charge, but the books were very

expensive. Despite his rich relatives

from Padua, the Enselmini, had helped

him, he maintained himself as a private

teacher of grammar. He acquired the

title of Magister artium around

1410 and

he kept studying after that. A charac

teristic of the humanist masters is that

there was not a deﬁnitive separation

between the learning and the teaching

activities, known as the cupiditas discendi,

the intense desire to learn. Therefore,

the masters returned periodically to

take classes as pupils.

During the period of almost twenty

years that Vittorino lived in Padua, Pier

Paolo Vergerio, Giovanni Conversino da

Ravenna, Gasparino Barzizza and Paolo

Nicoletti were his main inﬂuences.

The issue of Christianism was fun

damental to Vittorino. He followed the

philosophy course of Vergerio, the ﬁrst

humanist pedagogue, who has published

in 1403 the De ingenuis moribus, in which

he conciliated the Christian faith with

the enthusiasm for the classical studies.

Vittorino studied Latin with Gaspa-

rino Barzizza, considered as the greatest

Latinist of that time. It was habitual for

the teachers to accept students as a way

to complement the domestic budget;

besides being his pupil, Vittorino was

a pensioner in the house of Barzizza.

Vittorino followed the private les

sons of mathematics of Biagio Pelacani,

one of the few mathematics teachers.

To attend the course of Pelacani during

one semester, Vittorino accepted a job

as famulus in the teacher’s house. How

ever, he could not stand the mistreat

ments and he abandoned the classes

and started to study with Jacopo Della

Torre da Forlì, with whom he learned,

besides mathematics, physics and as

trology. In Vittorino’s medal,

made by

Pisanello, we can ﬁnd the inscription:

Victorinus Feltrensis summus mathematicus

et omnis humanitatis pater. Up until 1415,

Vittorino lectured on mathematics and

grammar in Padua.

The end of the fourteenth-century

was an important period to the Ital

ian culture. Emanuel Chrysolora, the

famous teacher from Constantinople,

arrived at Florence in 1397. The Greek

language, which was unknown in Italy,

started to the taught in the Studio ﬁoren

tino. In 1415, Vittorino went to Venice.

He attended at Greek lessons with Gua

rino and taught grammar and math

ematics, especially to the children of

the Venetian aristocrats. He started his

own school and received recognition

as an educator. In the fourteenth-cen

tury, there already were some private

boarding schools in some Italian cit

ies, similar to monasteries. Vittorino’s

model was the monastic school.

198 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Vittorino stayed in Venice until

March 1419. Back to Padua, he started

a boarding school that he directed for

two years. In 1421, Barzizza moved to

Milan and Vittorino succeeded him in

the prestigious chair of rhetoric in the

University. However, he could not stand

the students immoderations. He leaved

the public teaching and the city, return

ing to Venice in the next year. There, he

opened a boarding school that students

of all over Italy frequented.

In 1422, the marquis Gianfrancesco

Gonzaga invited him to settle in Man

tua. It was probably a suggestion made

by Guarino da Verona, who became

Vittorino’s friend, and who was unable

to accept the invitation that he received

from the marquis to be the master of his

children. Vittorino hesitated, but ﬁnally

he moved to Mantua in 1423. The deten

tion in Padua of his cousin, Enselmino

degli Enselmini, for political reasons

should have determined the decision.

The letter that he sent to the mar

quis, accepting the task of educating

his children, reminds the rule of Saint

Francis, in which the Saint places the

moral virtue above the human hierar

chy. It preserves the right of accepting

only the orders that do not offend his

conscience.

The relationship between Vittorino

and the Gonzaga was always excellent.

In Mantua, he had all the liberty and

independence to work that he desired.

He created the Giocosa, the ﬁrst school

that placed together the humanist ideals

and the Christian principles and that

become the most renowned humanist

school of the Renaissance and a center

of erudition. The children of the mar

quis Gonzaga, the heirs of the noble

families of the Italian courts, the chil

dren of the humanists,

and for the

ﬁrst time, children that could not pay

for the education studied there.

There was a great diversity of social

origin among the students: there were

the children of the marquis and of the

aristocracy, of humanists and of poor

families. Each student was able to pay

according to his possessions. In 1443, of

the seventy that frequented the Giocosa,

forty did not pay. Some more necessi

tated families received a help from the

government through the intervention

of Vittorino in order that their children

do not needed to abandon the studies

to work. There were also age differ

ences, for there were adults and kids.

The school accepted girls too, and it was

one of them, Cecilia Gonzaga, sister of

Ludovico, who got the greatest distinc

tion by the brilliance of her intelligence

amongst all that studied there. Some

students were pupils in some disciplines

and teachers in others. Vittorino desired

that in his school the desire to learn pre

vailed. He did not admit that those who

did not ﬁtted in his demanded pattern

could stay there.

Francesco Gonzaga, the Captain

of Mantua, built the edifice where

the school worked besides the ofﬁcial

court residence

, to shelter clothes,

jewel, books and art objects that he

had brought from a trip to France. The

term Domus nostrae Zoiosae, the joyous

house, a place of pleasures and enter

tainments, is shown for the ﬁrst time in

a 1389 document. According to Paglia,

its construction should have started

in the previous year.

The name of the school should be

Ca'Gioiosa, in Venetian Ca’ Zoiosa. Vit

torino suggested changing it to Giocosa,

gioco from the Latin jocus, a synonym

of ludus. The names Zoiosa and Giocosa

alternate in the documents.

The Giocosa was the house of Vit

torino, of the marquis’ children, and

was a boarding school. The families

soon started to appreciate it much

and it was necessary to build a second

neighboring house, where part of the

students lived.

The school was an imposing build

ing next to the river, surrounded by

turfs and high trees, with an ample

and well-illuminated interior and with

frescoes in the walls with scenes of chil

dren playing. Vittorino took off from

the house everything that was excessive

in the decoration. He sought to turn the

place into the most simple and agree

able as possible and kept what could

foster the intellectual activity. This was

unusual, for the mediaeval schools had

dark and less ventilated rooms. In the

Giocosa, there was no artiﬁcial heat. Vit

torino considered that the weaknesses

of the body and the mind caused the

cold and that a vigorous body and a

joyous spirit should not feel cold. The

rigid discipline, nevertheless, did not

implicated in physical punishments.

The issue of Christianism was fun

damental to Vittorino. The religious

teaching had the greatest importance.

The school’s inspiration was religious,

but without the clergy’s presence.

Vittorino, likewise Alberti, suffered

from the inﬂuence of the work of Quin

tilian (c.42-118), Institutio Oratoria

(The

Orator’s Education). In the twelve vol

umes in which he deals with the educa

tion since childhood up to the orator’s

formation, Quintilian highlights the

power of expression and of personal

ity, considering an educated men those

who are able to express themselves with

sincerity, familiarity, and persuasion,

on every kind of knowledge. For that

reason, in the Giocosa, the readings that

were done out loud and the declama

tion had especial importance.

Vittorino’s biographer, Woodward,

comments on how much difﬁcult it

is to imagine the disorientation caused

by the discovery of the works of An

tiquity in that period. The ancient ideal

of knowledge elaborated through cen

turies was substituted in the space of

one generation for a new ideal, not yet

completely realized, and the education

advanced through partial attempts. The

relationship between the new aspira

tions and the ancient faith and the con

ﬂict between the Greek cult of the body

and the asceticism of the Church were

hard issues. When Vittorino

started to

teach in Padua, in the beginning of

RHAA 6 199

Traduções/Translations

the ﬁfteenth-century, these issues were

coming to the fore. In the period of

his death, in 1446, many solutions had

been obtained through the imitation

of Antiquity and, mainly, by the daily

activities of masters, among whom he

distinguished himself.

Guarino da Verona had translated

and published Plutarch treatise De

liberorum educatione around 1411. Ten

years later, the Renaissance found the

complete text of Cicero De oratore. The

conclusions of Vittorino in relation to

the education lead him to adopt in the

Mantuan school educational methods

used in Greece and in Rome. The desire

for harmony sought the integral for

mation of the individual, highlighting

the physical exercises as a part of the

formation of the personality. Vittorino

considered the intellectual development

of equal importance as the physical de

velopment, being fostered the practice

of gymnastics and the excursions to the

lakes and to the Alps.

The teaching had as its base the art

of the trivium and the quatrivium. There

were classes of Latin and Greek, alge

bra, arithmetic, geometry, logic, astrol

ogy, ethics, dialectics, natural sciences,

astronomy, history, music and elo

quence. People saw music with restric

tions for they feared that it could affect

too much the sense. They fostered the

study of Greek. The students learned

the Greek and the Latin, the Greek and

the Latin literature and the ancient his

tory through the classical texts.

Vittorino died at February 2, 1446,

twenty-three years after having created

the Mantuan school. He did not leave

any text. The correspondence that he

kept with his friend Ambrogio Traver

sari, with the exception of six letters,

was lost. Despite that, the humanist in

ﬂuence of his school in the education

and in the moral character encompassed

the whole Renaissance through the ac

tions of his pupils. The study of Greek,

giving access to the original sources,

was fundamental to foster the antiquar

ian interest. Among the students of the

Giocosa, there were many of the future

patrons of the Renaissance, as Ludovico

III Gonzaga himself and Federico da

Montefeltro, duke of Urbino.

Vittorino da Feltre, who could well

be the man in black [Fig.3] painted by

Mantegna in the wall of the Camera picta,

aggregated in himself the humanist ide

als described by Baldassare Castiglione,

pupil of the Giocosa for eight years, in

the Libro del Cortigiano

in which he es-

tablishes the ideal of behavior for the

man of the Renaissance.

English version: Marcelo Hilsdorf Marotta

Andrea Mantegna (1430/1-1506), The Court, c.

1474, dry fresco,

northern wall of the Camera

picta,

San Giorgio castle, Mantua.

The character in black was identiﬁed as being:

a. Vittorino da Feltre (Luzio and Renier, Man

tova e Urbino. Turin, 1892, p.173, apud Kristeller,

Paul, Andrea Mantegna

., London: Longmans,

Green and Co., 1901, p.240);

Bartolomeo Manfredi, the court astronomer

and builder of the tower clock (hypothesis of

Stefano Davari transmitted orally to Kristeller

in Kristeller, Paul, op. cit., n.2, p.244);

Francesco Prendilacqua, pupil of Vittorino

da Feltre and also author of the most complete

biography, Vita Victorini, which he started to

write in 1466. Prendilacqua was son of Niccolò

and of a sister of Ludovico Accordi, both from

Verona (Bellonci, Maria and Garavaglia, Niny.

Mantegna. Milan: Rizzoli, 1966, p.106).

At May 29, 1453, two years after getting onto

the Ottoman Empire throne, the sultan Mo

hamed II conquered Constantinople. His next

objective was Rome. The pope convoked a

congress that could demonstrate the strength

and the unity of the Western catholic world

and that launched the crusade against the

Turks. The natural choice to headquarter it,

Rome, was not adequate. The German princes

would claim a distance issue for not showing

up, for they preferred that the pope came to

meet them. Another possibility was an Italian

city outside the territory of the Church. The

pope decided for Mantua. The fact that it was

a little marquisate repelled the suspicions and

did not provoke envy or jealousy. The marquis

Ludovico III Gonzaga had diplomatic ability

and excellent relations with the European

powers, including kinship. The choice of the

place should have pleased the German and

especially the emperor, whose presence the

pope much desired.GerGer At October 22,

1458, Pius II communicated to the marquis

his decision through a brief papal document

delivered, meaningfully, by the Mantuan

bishop Galeazzo Craviani, who was nomina

ted governor of Rome during the period of

the pope’s absence. Accompanied only by six

cardinals, the pope leaved Rome at January 22,

1459. The majority of the Cardinalate College

was too old and they waited for a propitious

season to travel. The company followed slowly

through Perugia and Siena, arrived at Florence

in April, passed through Bologna and, in the

end of May, entered into Ferrara, where the

duke Borso D’Este furnished a boat in order

that they could ﬁnish the path by the river.

When, ﬁnally, at May 27, Pius II arrived in Man-

tua, his ﬁrst act was to visit the place where it

was supposed to be the house of Virgil.

Pius II, Commentarii rerum memorabilium quae

temporibus suis contigerunt, Book I,

Rome, 1584,

apud Bini, Italo, “Mantova sede papale durante la

dieta convocata da Pio II”, in Civiltà Mantovana,

n.3, Mantua, 1984, p. 9.

Garin, Eugenio, Ritratto di Enea Silvio Piccolo-

mini, in Ritratto di Umanisti

. Florence: Sansoni,

1967, p. 29.

The Palazzo Ducale of the Gonzaga is a set of

interlinked buildings, from different periods

and of different styles, which suffered many

interventions. The most ancient nucleus is the

Corte Vecchia, which includes the Palazzo del Ca

pitano and the Magna Domus, from the thirte

enth-century, and the Domus Nuova, from the

fourteenth-century. The Castel San Giorgio was

erected in the ﬁfteenth-century (1395-1406)

and the Corte Nuova, in the sixteenth-century,

already through the project of Giulio Romano

(1492/9-1546).

Lucca Fancelli was born in Settignano in 1430.

He was an architect, military engineer, and

sculptor. He worked in Mantua, contributing to

the afﬁrmation of the Renaissance shape of the

city. Many times, he was the mediator between

Ludovico Gonzaga and Mantegna, of whom

he was very close. He died in Mantua in 1495.

Built by the astrologer and mathematician

Bartolomeo Manfredi, the clock indicated the

hours, the seasons, phases of the moon, and

the position of the sun in relation to the signs

of the Zodiac.

Antonio Pisano, known as Pisanello, was

born probably in Pisa between the 90 and 95

200 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

years of the fourteenth-century. The ﬁrst ma-

jor work was a fresco (presently lost) painted

in the Palazzo Ducale in Venice, together with

his master Gentile da Fabriano (c.1370-1427)

around 1415. It is probable that it was in this

occasion that Pisanello knew Gianfrancesco

Gonzaga, who was there participating in a

tournament.

Longuinus, the Roman soldier that wounded

Christ with the spear, was converted in the mo

ment that the blood drops felt from the wound

that he had provoked. This same chalice, lost

and found miraculously in Mantua over two

times in the Middle Ages, can be found in the

crypt of Sant’Andrea, under the central point

of the Church, in front of the main altar.

The reference to Saint Longuinus reveals the

probable origin of the Mantuan Christianiza

tion through the Roman army.

Andrea Mantegna was born probably between

1430 and 31 in the Isola di Carturo, near to

Vicenza and Padua. From a very poor family

(the father was carpenter), he entered to the

atelier of Francesco Squarcione (1397-1468)

around his ten years old as a stepson. Man

tegna married with Nicolosia, daughter of Ja

copo Bellini, in 1453. In 1457, he accepted the

invitation from Ludovico Gonzaga to settle as

the Mantuan court painter, to where he moved

deﬁnitively in 1460. With the exception of two

trips to Tuscany in 1466 and 67 and of a period

between 1488 e 90, in which he went to Rome

through the request of the pope Inocentius

VIII to decorate a chapel in the Vatican (later

demolished), he dwelled in Mantua up until his

death in September 13, 1506. He was buried

there, in Sant’Andrea’s funerary chapel.

The Camera degli sposi received its name by the

presence of a peacock, an attribute of Juno, the

goddess that ruled over marriage.

The room was continuously victim of misfor-

tunes, which caused serious material damages.

Already in the year of Mantegna’s death, in

1506, the rainwater inﬁltration obliged the

sons of the painter to restore it. There were

many damages caused by the imperial troops

that occupied the palace in 1630 and practiced

gunshot in one of the ﬁgures. The room was

abandoned up until around 1875. The restora

tions were all inadequate. During the Second

World War, the Camera picta was protected with

mattresses and layers of straw, what can have

worsened the frescoes situation. The room

received a last restoration in 1987.

Vasari, Giorgio; Barocchi, Paola, Le vite dei più

eccellenti pittori, scultori e architetti, vita di Andrea

Mantegna, Florence.

In the beginning of 1480, before returning to

Florence, Poliziano created the Favola de Orfeo

to a carnival party organized by the cardinal

Francesco Gonzaga. The play was delivered in

the Camera picta, with Mantegna’s scenarios.

Masaccio (1401-28), Raising of the Son of Theophi-

lus, 1426-27, fresco, 230 x 598 cm, Brancacci

Chapel, Santa Maria del Carmine, Florence.

Pisanello (c.1395-1455), Portrait of Vittorino da

Feltre, bronze medal, diameter 6.7 cm, short

after February 2, 1446, Museo Nazionale del

Bargello, Florence.

Valitutti, Salvatore, “Inattualità ed attualità di

Vittorino da Feltre”, in Accademia Virgiliana di

Mantova, vol. XLVII, Mantua, 1979,

p. 163.

Vespasiano da Bistici; Frati, Ludovico, Vite di

uomini ilustri del secolo., vol. secondo, Bologna:

Romagnoli-Dall’Acqua, 1893, p. 222.

Prendilaqua, E. “De Vita Victorini Feltrensis

dialogus”, in Garin, Eugenio. Il pensiero pedago

gico dell’ Umanesimo, 1958, pp.642-643.

Signorini, Rodolfo, “Una donazione riﬁutata

da Vittorino da Feltre”, in Civiltà Mantovana, n.

11, Mantua, 1986, p.1.

Pietole would be the Andes of Antiquity.

Pisanello (1395-1455), Medal of Vittorino da

Feltre, short after February 2, 1446, Museo

Nazionale del Bargello, Florence.

Guarino da Verona, Poggio Bracciolini and

Francesco Filelfo sent their children to study

in Mantua.

In 1884, the site that the school would occupy

was established: the extreme of the present Pia

zza Sordello next to the Piazza della Fiera, where

there was the building of the old Mercato dei

Bozzoli, between Via San Giorgio and Piazza

del Castello.

Paglia, E. “La casa Giocosa di Vittorino da Feltrre

in Mantova”, in Archivio Storico Lombardo, XI,

fasc. I, 1884, p. 7, apud Signorini, Rodolfo.

“Un’altra “Ca’ Zoiosa” (o Giocosa) a Rodigo”, in

Civiltà Mantovana, n.9, Mantua, 1994, p. 87.

Woodward, W.H. Vittorino da Feltre and Other

Humanist Educators. Cambridge: Cambridge

University Press, 1964 (1897), apud Valitutti,

Salvatore, op. cit., p. 176.

The text of the Libro del Cortigiano started to be

written around 1513, being revised and altered

continuously. Aldus Manutius published it for

the ﬁrst time in the spring of 1528, in Venice,

and in Florence it was published by The Giunti.

Castiglione carefully curated the editions.

The economical discourses and

the Flemish art in the ﬁfteenth

and sixteenth centuries: re

ﬂections on the luxury market

based on Jan van Dornicke’s

MASP triptych

Jens Baumgarten

Professor at the São Paulo Federal University

(Unifesp)

Post-Doctoral Researcher, Department of

History, Institute of Philosophy and Human

Sciences (IFCH/ Unicamp)

The new Jan van Dornicke’s Ant-

werpian triptych, which can be found

in the Museu de Arte de São Paulo As

sis Chateaubriand (MASP), can serve as

a point of reference and analysis for us

to sketch, based on a sociopolitical and

economical approach, the ﬁrst signs of

the globalization process, which will

undoubtedly help us to better under

stand the style and the iconography of

this picture.

In this article, we will deal with the

following topics: with the inauguration

of the ﬁrst art market around 1520;

with the functioning of the system of

art production and distribution in the

territory of Flanders, particularly in its

most important city, Antwerp. First, we

will do a deep analysis of the triptych,

in order to verify its importance in the

context of Antwerp’s history, as much

as in the development of painting and

of its market. It will also be veriﬁed the

city’s importance, following with a de

scription of the luxury market, within

which the painting was also inserted.

The article concludes with a methodo

logical reﬂection on the need to take

into account the materiality of an art

work much beyond the ideological di-

chotomies of the twentieth-century.

We know at least three altarpieces of

Jan van Dornicke representing scenes

from the cruciﬁxion, that is to say, the

Hampton Court triptych, the altarpiece

from a private collection in the south

of Germany, and the MASP’s triptych.

RHAA 6 201

Traduções/Translations

It is not possible within this publication

to describe in detail all these monu

ments. Two of them, however – the one

at the MASP and the one at Hampton

Court –, are a little greater in size and

diverge fundamentally in relation to the

quantity of ﬁgures. While the private

collection triptych concentrates on the

main ﬁgures, that is to say, in Christ

and in the characters of the Passion,

the works at Hampton Court and at

the MASP shows a scene of relatively

public character, composed by a huge

quantity of spectators. The German

version shows in the left side wing a

male donator that, according to the

precepts of the epoch, is represented

humbly kneeled in adoration to the

cruciﬁed Christ of the central panel.

Besides him, standing, we can ﬁnd

Saint Jacob, the elder. In the right wing,

besides Saint Elisabeth of Thuringia,

there is the female donor, showing the

same humble posture of her masculine

pendant. Müller-Hofstede indicates that

such reduction in the number of the

ﬁgures included in the scene had al

ready occurred in the context of the

ancient art from the Flanders region,

exemplarily in Rogier van Weyden’s

well-known cruciﬁxion to the Carthu

sian Monastery (Kartäuser) of Scheut

in Brussels. Nevertheless, especially

the conception of the central picture

of Jan van Dornicke’s work from Ger

many is more solemn, traditional, and

equilibrated, the construction of the

image being very tectonic and conse

quently more symmetrical.

The artist

has turned back to older traditions in

order to develop an iconographical con

cept much simpler, rigid and hieratic,

which would lead to a composition that

is centralized in God’s sacriﬁce, that is

to say, in the central sacrament of the

Church, a Eucharist that would serve

to the calm contemplation and to the

private devotion. In this interpretation,

the donors work equally as examples of

adoration, of proper and adequate de

votion.

It is possible for us to imagine

that such a cruciﬁxion was ordered for

the lateral chapel of a church or even

for a private chapel.

Müller-Hofstede

does not believe that such a triptych

could have been ordered by a foreign

person, been done previously to a mem

ber of the local bourgeoisie.

By the other side, the triptychs from

Hampton Court and from the MASP

do not show any donor. The one from

Hampton Court is concentrated in the

salvation by the intervention of Christ,

narrating, to the left, the biblical story

of the Calvary (Painful Way), in the

center the cruciﬁxion, and to the right,

the resurrection. On the other side the

triptych from the MASP concentrates

itself on the sacriﬁce of Christ, equally

showing the Calvary at the left side and

the cruciﬁxion at the center; at the right

side, however, instead of the resurrec

tion, it is narrated the sepulcher of

Christ. With this, van Dornicke high

lighted the sadness and the pain inher

ent to the Eucharist. Uniquely at the

background, three little ﬁgures, which

could be The Three Marys, do an al

lusion to the resurrection. The triptych

from Hampton Court can be seen as a

promise; the altarpiece from the MASP,

however, has a very threatening moral

sense. With this iconographical inno

vation, the triptych could be situated

between the German one and the one

from Hampton Court. In the case of

the work from the MASP, Jan van

Dornicke might have joined two dis

tinct tendencies in a single picture. In

relation to the luxury market, it could

be that the two triptychs that are more

public might have been produced for

the foreign market, to which it would

have been possible, in a second mo

ment, to add the potential donors in

the exterior sides of the lateral wings.

It is also possible that some parts of the

picture might have been painted in Jan

van Dornicke’s workshop or perhaps by

his most important pupil, Pieter Cocke,

who might have participated in this way

in the production of the triptych. One

sign of this fact would be the particu

larly delicate nature and architecture of

the work. In this way, all the evidences

cited lead us to believe that this mas

terpiece might have been a part of the

Antwerpian luxury market and, more

speciﬁcally, might have been produced

for the free foreign market.

Unfortunately, there are no intense

and detailed documentation referring to

Jan van Dornicke’s triptych that could

allow us to speculate on some positiv

ist data, for there are no evidences of

the existence of a precise donor or even

of the realization of a possible order-

ing for the work. The extraordinary

stylistic quality of the work might only

be evaluated on a precise ground if we

could take into account the context of

its production. The correct interpreta-

tion of the iconographical details of the

triptych became evident when these are

understood within the parameters of the

“industrial” production of that era in

Antwerp, directed to a luxury market.

To understand the history of Antwerp

and, in this way, the context of produc

tion of van Dornicke’s work, it is neces

sary to evaluate the general development

of the European history and, most of all,

the unfolding of the history of the Low

Countries. Founded by the Romans in

the harbor of the Schelde River a few

kilometers from the Northern Sea, the

effective development of this city started

to occur in 1300 with the prosperity of

the Flanders region. Peter Burke de

scribes Antwerp, in his comparative

analysis, as a European metropolis.

1567, a foreign traveler in Venice indi

cated the “Most Serene” as the “news

metropolis” and, in 1549, another trave

ler called it as the “world metropolis”, an

expression normally reserved to Rome,

seen as the caput mundi.

Differently from other cities, espe

cially from its main rival, Bruges, Ant

werp did not develop a textile indus

try.

Contrarily to the actual costume

of traveling to other cities to buy textile

goods, it invited foreign merchants to

202 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

sell in its market. The city local coun-

cil took the decision of opening widely

its fairs to the British and their goods,

which normally suffered from boycotts

in other localities of the Low Countries,

transforming Antwerp in the main re

selling center of British tissues of the

mainland. In that way, during the fairs,

Italians, Spanish and representatives

of the Hanseatic League (for instance,

those of German cities like Lübeck,

Hamburg and Bremen) leaved Bruges

to do business and commercial trans

actions in Antwerp. These operations

were so proﬁcuous that, around 1500,

Antwerp become more important than

Bruges and, with a population of ap

proximately 40 thousand inhabitants,

it came to represent the most signiﬁca

tive urban agglomeration of the Low

Countries.

In the beginning of the sixteenth

century, Antwerp becomes also the

metropolis of the west. Vasco da Gama

discovered the maritime way to India

between 1497 and 1499, guaranteeing

to the Portuguese the rule and mo

nopoly of the spice trade in Europe.

The control over this trade during the

middle Ages was in the hands of the

Italians, who had the Arabs as media

tors. The Portuguese, however, could

break abruptly with this monopoly,

with catastrophic consequences to sev

eral companies, with the exception of

those of the Italians, who continued to

export the silk and the derived goods

to the Low Countries. The gravitational

center of the long distance trade that

existed during centuries in the frontiers

of the Mediterranean migrated, then,

to the coasts of the Atlantic and of the

Northern Sea.

In the day of August 24, 1501, several

Portuguese caravels full of spicery ar

rived at the port of Antwerp. The Por

tuguese king, who in this moment had

the control and monopoly of the trade,

decided to turn the city into the main

center of Western Europe dedicated to

the commercialization of oriental goods.

Only in Antwerp the king had the

possibility to obtain from the German

bankers, above all from Nuremberg and

Augsburg, the quantity of indispensable

metals needed to accomplish his com

mercial activities: the silver from India

and the copper from Africa. The trade,

equally proﬁcuous to the Portuguese

and the Germans, allowed to both the

purchase of British tissues. In 1508, the

Portuguese established the subsidy of

the trade house (House of India) with

the construction of the “Factorship of

Flanders”, and the Germans passed to

be represented by their most powerful

merchant families: the Fuggers from

Augsburg, who started their negotia

tions in the region in 1508, and, one

year later, the Welsers from Nuremberg.

This step was the base for the pursuit of

transactions in a higher level.

In the threshold of 1560, Antwerp

had a population of almost 100 thou

sand inhabitants, a not much impressive

number for today, but which turned the

Flemish city into one of the biggest ur

ban agglomerations of pre-modern Eu

rope, surpassed only by Paris and a few

Italian cities. The number of foreigners

in the city also grew up considerably

and many foreign communities started

to settle permanently in Antwerp: 300

Spanish, approximately 400 British,

150 Portuguese, 200 Italians and 300

Hanseatic Germans.

Reckoning its

families, associates and servants, this

number reached circa ﬁve thousand im-

migrants, who started to play a decisive

role in the prosperity of the region, act

ing as exporters and importers, initiat

ing and maintaining the development of

a prosperous international trade. Dur-

ing a determinate period, Antwerp took

the place of Venice as the European

storehouse and distribution center,

being again substituted, nevertheless,

by Amsterdam and London in the fol-

lowing centuries. In this way, it is no

exaggeration to say that Antwerp was

the most international and cosmopolite

city of the pre-modern period.

Among the most important factors

for the development of the city is not

only the textile industry, but also the

production of the visual arts. Contrary

to many contemporary ideas about the

artistic production, the creation of dec

orative arts in Antwerp did not follow

only the inventions of genial masters,

but obeyed equally to the rules of the

pre-modern industrialization. Above

all, in this sector, the industrial forces

were most visible and, to use here an

economic parlance, it is possible to

claim that the productivity measured

in qualitative terms grew substantially.

In the sixteenth century, the activities

started to be concentrated not only in

the areas of painting and sculpture, but

showed also a huge production of fur

niture, wooden altarpieces, diamonds

and other precious elements, as painted

leather and glass.

Even before 1400 a strong tradition

in the fabric of high quality products in

the manufactures of the region had al-

ready developed.

In 1382, goldsmiths,

painters, wood engravers, among oth

ers, were sufﬁcient in number to create

a ﬁrst corporation. In 1415, the tapes

try weavers had separated themselves

from the other groups and instituted

their own corporation, followed by the

goldsmiths in 1456.

At the end of the

ﬁfteenth century, the bourgeoisie not

only increased its inﬂuence, but also ac

quired more buying power, conducting

this way to the growing of demand of

luxury articles in Europe, above all in

the Low Countries and, then, turning

Antwerp into its commercial center. As

had already been observed, this city was

an international center, both to the trad

ers as to the painters, goldsmiths, and

weavers. They were able to buy there the

precious materials that they needed to

produce the paintings, sculptures, and

tapestries that would come to ﬁll the

representational needs of the new bour

geoisie, a group that no doubt had their

own political intentions. The art object

should afﬁrm their social ascent. De

RHAA 6 203

Traduções/Translations

spite that, the artists also produced to

clients from other regions. The engrav

ers, for instance, found a wider market

for their policromed or golden altar

pieces in the Rhineland, in Westphalia,

Gdańsk, in Sweden, in France and

in Spain. It is interesting to note that

the production of works to altars not

only had a ﬁxed clientship, but also that

the altarpieces made for the free market

were more numerous in Antwerp than

in other centers of the region of Flan

ders. These wooden altarpieces have a

more stereotyped iconography and, so

being, they have a bigger reception. In

his way, they could equally serve to a

church, to a chapel, to private houses

or even to travelers. The artists had

to develop a kind of sensibility to the

needs of the market and to the diversi

ties of taste of potential clients. This is

reﬂected exemplarily in the adaptation

of decorative elements that came from

Italy. These Italianisms in vigour in the

gothic altarpieces evidently demonstrate

the general interest and the perception

of the humanism and the Renaissance

in the Flemish art. Despite that, its use

can eventually prove the fact that, in this

historical period, such elements did not

carry any innovative character. There is

a tendency to believe that works made

for exportation (coopwercken) were done

with a minimum of expenses, using pre-

fabricated components in almost all the

cases, all engraved according to a single

model.

The painting became more and

more prominent in the context of art

manufactures in Antwerp. Before the

artistic activities of Quinten Metsys,

who became master in 1491, Antwerp

still had not the status of an important

city in relation to the production of

paintings. This circumstance suffered

a quick change in the following years.

The sixteenth century was marked by

an artistic “explosion” both in what

refers to the quality of the works as to

its quantity. As an example of quality,

we have Jan van Dornicke’s cruciﬁx

ion, now in exhibition in the MASP.

In relation to the quantity, it is possible

for us to observe a similar development

in relation to the wooden altarpieces.

A considerable part suffered heavily

with the commercialization and the

industrialization, and, excluding a few

exceptional works, the assembly line

paintings were the rule. To satisfy the

taste of potential clients, the artisans,

who counted on the support of not

only ecclesiastical and noble donors,

but also of the middle class and even

of the lower middle class, specialized

themselves in determinate productions,

as the devotional works, landscapes and

portraits. The specialization helped

them to improve their abilities and to

improve their style, causing that way a

grow in productivity sided by the re

duction of the costs. Many times sev

eral artists worked on the same canvas.

Each one of them took care of a certain

aspect or of part of the work. Accord

ing to the differing aspirations, the

paintings could be done in a more or

less expensive fashion. Works with the

background completely painted were

more expensive than ﬁgures conceived

above a landscape; the grayish had a

price evidently less elevated than color

paintings. The painters, as the engrav

ers and all the producers of luxury

articles, were reﬁned tradesman and

followed the fashion. One instructive

example of this fact is the success of

the Antwerpian mannerists’ painters,

as for instance Jan van Dornicke. The

more industrialized production shows

a superﬁcial formality and attempt to

give the feeling of erudition with its

references to Antiquity, which corre

sponded to the taste of the more or

less intellectual and, some times, “snob

bish” bourgeoisie.

After the invention of the print,

Mathias van der Goes produced in

1481 the ﬁrst book printed in Ant

werp. In the period between 1500 and

1540, around half of the books pro

duced came from the prints of that city.

Having initiated the production with

romances, the editors started to diver

sify their products, publishing equally

academic manuals, which could also

be exported, transforming Antwerp

in the most important center for the

production and distribution of books.

Thanks to immigrants from the north

of Holland, the city established itself

equally as a center for the produc

tion of illustrated books. A greater af

ﬂux of precious metals stimulated the

goldsmith and silversmith productions.

The masters of Antwerp were the pref

erence of all the consumers: the court,

the rich bourgeoisie, the tradesman,

the churches, the monasteries, the city

dignitaries, the corporations, and fel

lowships. The mint acquired, in this

way, a great importance. Several areas

of the luxury commerce took advantage

from the potential of the city in relation

to the raw material market. An ancient

source refers in 1483 to a diamond-cut

ter, but the commerce properly speak

ing of this precious stone only started to

succeed at the sixteenth century, when

the Italians, and later, the Portuguese,

were able to put a considerable quantity

of precious stones in circulation. The

silk, imported from the south ﬁrst by

the Italians and later by the merchants

from the Low Countries, enabled for

the creation of a self-sufﬁcient indus

try. Many satin weavers coming from

Bruges had so much success that in

1533 they were granted the possibility

to create a work corporation. As they

used only half-silk tissues,

they were

not affected by the importations of the

Italians or from the Levant, being able

to produce cheaper to a wider market

composed by the middle class.

The immigrants, above all, had a

considerable inﬂuence on the different

industries. Besides the tapestry weav

ers, they stimulated several other areas

already established, due to the expertise

and to the professionalism that they had

acquired in other countries. Around the

year 1500, after the arrival of Quinten

204 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Metsys, many painters from different

schools and from different regions es

tablished themselves in Antwerp. This

fact makes the distinction of an Ant

werpian style in the end of the ﬁfteenth

century to be difﬁcult. As the lists from

the middle of the sixteenth century

from the corporation of Saint Luke

demonstrate, ﬁve French goldsmiths

and some musical instruments makers

had activities in the city. The incentive

for the migration of specialized workers

was a regular politics of the municipal

council. Wishing to develop the econ

omy of their community, the regents

spent a lot of effort to attract qualiﬁed

foreign workers, particularly those who

had at their disposal the new technolo

gies. For these the council granted sub

sidies and helped in the sojourn and in

the accommodation. Subsidies were

granted, for instance, to the Spanish

Martin Gaillard, who introduced the

fabrication of the Cordovan leather in

the 30’s of the sixteenth century, and

to Nicolaus Davidt from Beauvais, who

started the weaving of the Damascene

silk. The council tried to attract indus

trial innovators not only from distant

places, but also from other regions of

the Low Countries. This way Antwerp

beneﬁted from the end of the court in

Malinas after the death of Margaret of

Austria in 1530, an important patron of

the arts. Between 1541 and 1542, the

Antwerpian council also granted sub

sidies to Pieter Coecke van Aelst, son-

in-law of Jan van Dornicke’s master, a

subject that will be treated right away.

The artist, painter, and tapestry designer

established himself some years before in

Antwerp, in order to transmit to other

artists and colleagues his knowledge

and abilities. In the year of 1559, the

council granted to a tapestry weaver the

full citizenship with all the rights.

The council sought to increase the

economical activities in the city through

the promotion of the industry. Though

this fact meant a certain disadvantage to

other urban centers in the Low Coun

tries, it was not a problem for the Ant

werpian regime. The development and

the implementation of more industries

implicated in the growing of proﬁt op

portunities to merchants and entrepre

neurs, more income to the municipality,

and more jobs for the proletariat. As

the social classes with less purchasing

power grew, the tensions increased.

With its policy of work for the poor, the

government hoped to put and end to

the social problems. Nevertheless, the

economic and political crisis of 1566

worsened the present situation, making

the government to adopt a mercantilist

policy. The stimulus given to the in

dustry had two goals. The ﬁrst was the

desire, by part of the council, to mini

mize the costs through the substitution

of importations by local products; the

second was to help the industries from

the south of the Low Countries, giving

way to its differentiation and improve

ment and increasing its competitiveness

in the international commerce. How

ever strong were the ofﬁcial economical

investments, the merchants and the art

ists had still other reasons for choosing

Antwerp amongst all the others Euro

pean metropolis as their point of settle

ment. Christoffel Plantin revealed in a

letter dated from 1574 for what reason

he had chosen Antwerp. His motifs run

from the presence of raw material in the

warehouses and the abundance of work

to the quick access to the markets. The

apparent unlimited potentialities of that

metropolis attracted both citizens from

the Low Countries as well as individuals

from distant regions. During the two

ﬁrst thirds of the sixteenth century,

the development of the luxury market

in Antwerp prospered singularly, pro

gressing quickly and vertiginously. The

majority of the industries had success

and even the recession of 1520 could

not truly hinder this process.

In 1540, the market was transferred

to the stock exchange (Beurs), once

the painters building (Schilderspand)

become small.

The activities of the

establishments of artistic production

grew, so the painters’ studios and, above

all, the art merchants, grew in number.

Well-succeeded masters started gradu

ally to transfer the actual execution of

their works to their assistants, being

responsible only for the artistic inven

tions and for the commercial manage

ment of the enterprise. Many times the

employers produced several copies of

only one composition, attributing to

the production an almost “industrial”

character. Around 1560, approximately

three hundred painters, engravers and

sculptors worked in the city.

Besides the stories of success there

are, naturally, those of failure. From

1530 on, the wood altarpieces engrav

ers, who had specialized themselves

particularly in the production of works

for altars and devotional ﬁgures, were

obliged to pay tributes, losing much of

their importance. Around 1550 they

made their last altarpieces. Due to the

expansion of the protestant Reform,

above all in Germany and in Scandina

via, the search for ecclesiastical works

diminished considerably. The markets

in this region almost disappeared. In

other territories, there was a radical

change in the tastes and in the prefer

ences. The new clients wanted painted

triptychs or models in the Italian style,

and not of wood anymore, but of ala

baster or of marble, and with sculptures

according to the models of Antiquity.

For these clients the style of the Ital

ian Renaissance meant progress and

future, while the late gothic style of

the altarpieces represented the past, the

overcomed. Even that some altarpieces

makers strived to integrate the vocabu

lary of Renaissance forms, in a general

way their works rested too traditional

and obsolete for the taste of the ep

och. The sculptors with modern style,

based in models from the Antiquity,

were prevailing. Artists like Cornelis

Floris of Vriendt and Willem van den

Broeck started to dominate the artistic

scene. Once more, this new style, en

RHAA 6 205

Traduções/Translations

titled “Floris style”, was exported with

success to the European Northwest.

The decades that preceded 1566

were, in reality, a very prosperous pe

riod for the commerce; they did not

represented, however, a golden age to

the manual laborers.

The raising of

prices in Antwerp, as well as in the

rest of Europe, and the lack of the cor

responding rise in the salaries, signiﬁed

the deterioration in the standards of

living. The situation was a little better

for the independent artists, for these

could often ascend socially. There was,

consequently, an intense and growing

competition between “big” and “small”

masters. Notwithstanding, as we had

previously explained, the economic boom

guaranteed even so a high standard of

work, protecting the community from a

serious eruption of social conﬂicts.

The golden age had, however, an

abrupt end. After the passage of the

“annus mirabilis” (Wonderjaar) of 1566,

which constituted the apex of political,

religious, and social differences in the

Low Countries,

the economic situation

deteriorated disturbingly. The prices of

cereals rose deﬁnitively, leading to a

decline in the standards of living. The

tensions brought about a furious icono

clasm – and in part conducted – caus

ing the destruction of several artworks.

Besides that, the Spanish duke Alva

reinforced the political and military

pressure over the Low Countries and,

to ﬁnance these operations, he raised

the taxes, making many artists to run

away from the city. Still, to ﬁnish, a war

against England damaged deﬁnitively

the international commerce.

The use of data for the analysis of

an artwork, coming from the economy

of visual arts and from the sociopoliti

cal context, has been a central ques

tion in the methodological discussions

of the discipline of art history since its

foundation in the universities in the

nineteenth century. Without wanting to

exceed the speciﬁc limit of analysis here

introduced, it would be necessary to re

call two fundamental methodological

streams in art history. The ﬁrst one is

the formal analysis that came from the

two Vienna schools, represented above

all by Alois Riegl from the ﬁrst school,

Otto Pächt from the second, and Hein

rich Wölfﬂin.

The second stream re-

fers to the analysis of content associated

with the iconography and the iconology

of Erwin Panofsky.

Nonetheless, yet

another methodological line was estab

lished, which made indispensable the

inclusion of a materialist analysis in the

description of an artwork, as had been

demonstrated by Leo Balet, Max Rap

hael and Hanna Deinhard.

It is inter-

esting to highlight that the main project

of Hanna Deinhard on a sociology of

art never came to be published, while

some traces of this plan can be found

in the work Form und Ausdruck (Form

and Expression).

The analytic pos-

ture of Hanna Deinhard represented

the role of transposing ﬁgure between

the generations. The referred author

wrote the ﬁrst reviews of the New Art

History

(Kritische Kunstgeschichte), papers

dedicated to a socio-historical approach

of art history, already in the beginning

of the 70’s. Both Martin Warnke as

Horst Bredekamp highlighted the im

portance of the socio-political context

in the production, divulgation and per

ception of artworks.

In more recent

decades, after many changes of per

spective in the area of human sciences

– the linguistic turn and the iconic turn –,

the doubts related to the deﬁnition and

validity of a canon in the visual arts

grew, as also grew the dissolution of

the deﬁnition of what is an image. It

is unnecessary to say that the work The

end of art history

published by Horst

Belting, was an affront without equiva

lent to the art historians. Besides that,

he developed an anthropology of art

that is inscribed into the methodologi

cal varieties of the visual studies.

the context of these streams, here out

lined only superﬁcially, the aspect of

the materiality of the image comes to

the fore, above all in the opinion of

Elizabeth Edwards, frequently consid

ered irrelevant by the majority of art

historians.

Ulpiano Menezes, when

highlighting such position, says clearly

that that posture “allows for the over

coming of a subtle epistemological in

adequacy very much in vogue in the

suggestions for the study of images,

be them considered as documents, be

them considered as components of

the social life. In rigor, the distinction

between image-sign-document and

image-thing-social-life-ingredient has

little consistency – but is still repeated,

for it calls to the attention, rightfully,

the discursive character of the image”.

Mieke Bal describes by a meta-narra-

tion the existing tension between the

materiality and the discourse, and be

tween the object of the past and the

subject of the present.

The issue of

the cultural trip and the importance of

materiality were suggested above all by

the context of the nineteenth and twen

tieth century’s museums and by the

wonder cameras (Wunderkammern).

However, in relation to the emergence

of a luxury market for the artistic pro

duction, this issue remained irrelevant.

We cannot understand this reﬂection

as a single option deriving from the

lack of a detailed documentation, but

as a new analytic approach that unites

the traditional analyses of the formal

and iconographical interpretation, of

the history of the social, political, and

economical contexts and the present

approaches of the visual studies.

Jan van Dornicke helped relevantly

to found and institute the golden cen

tury of painting in Antwerp.

His art

and of his sons-in-law, Jan van Amstel

and, mainly, Pieter Coecke, with his

trips to Istanbul,

important for the ar-

tistic context of the epoch, introduced a

relatively innovative painting in search

of unusual forms in the composition

of images, combining them with tra

206 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

ditional motifs. Such combination cor-

responds exactly to the association de

sired by their Royal clients as well as by

the market from where their potential

clients came. As Peter Burke says, the

art of the Flemish bourgeoisie, as well

as the art of Jan van Dornicke, would

came to establish the basis for the noto

riety of Antwerp as a European cultural

metropolis. This city was undoubtedly

one of the greatest centers of painting

and engraving in the sixteenth century,

besides being a commercial and ﬁnan

cial axis, functioning yet as a cultural

mediator between the North and South

of Europe due to the huge amount of

immigrants. It is necessary to consider

that art, already in the sixteenth cen

tury, was an integral part of the ﬁrst

conﬂicts created by the globalization

in the pre-modern epoch. Moreover, as

the history of the MASP itself and of

its collection reﬂects the history of the

bourgeoisie of São Paulo, the triptych

of van Dornicke reﬂects the ﬁrst suc

cesses and declines of the Antwerpian

bourgeoisie.

What is the meaning of the post-

modern approach to an artwork in the

social and economical context? That

the interpretative energy comes from

the subjectivity is a kind of common

sense to the post-structuralist theory.

In relation to the shown examples of

the luxury market and the triptych of

van Dornicke, this is not the case for a

positivist revival or for speculations on

the stylistic structures. These topics had

been already arduously criticized by the

second Vienna school.

Instead, it is

about the possibility of restoring to the

artefacts in themselves a certain power

of action through the materiality of the

works, here represented, in the more

general sense, by the luxury market. It

is important still to emphasize that this

do not mean the use of the artwork as a

projection. When we consider that the

artwork not only came from an author

or donor, but also has equally followed

the rules of a market, which can be said

to be globalized, it necessarily occurs

a change in the interpretation of the

impact caused by the artist. This ana

lytical approach removes the “roman

tic” idea of the singular production of

a genius artist, inscribing the Flemish

style of van Dornicke’s work and the

iconography of the Passion of the trip

tych in an economic discourse, from

where resulted at least partially even the

“Antwerpian” style. This discourse, in

vigour at the same time in the nego

tiations between the different social

groups in Antwerp, and in the needs

of a market already globalized, together

with the representations of the Passion

of Christ, can be used to assure the ex

pression of an externalized religiosity.

The later represents the development of

a discursive, social, and religious prac

tice, which can be analyzed throughout

the process that culminated with the

coming of the protestant Reform. In

addition, the sixteenth century’s icono

clasms are a direct consequence of the

inherent criticisms to this period in

Antwerp.

English version: Marcelo Hilsdorf Marotta

See Justus Müller-Hofstede, “Jan van Dor-

nickes Kreuzigungsaltar: Ein Meisterwerk

der Antwerpener Malerei vor Pieter Bruegel

D.Ä.”, in: Wallraf-Richartz-Jahrbuch, v. 52, 1991,

pp. 151-62, here p. 156. The place to the left

is more important for being the closest side

from the priest who celebrates the mass. On the

Antwerpian mannerists, it is fundamental Max

J. Friedländer, Early Netherlandish Painting, 14 v.

Leiden: Praeger, 1967-1974, here vol. XI (1974),

pp. 11-33 (German original: Altniederl

ändische

Malerei, 14 vols., Berlin: Cassirer, 1924-1937).

The Flemish painting from the pre-modern

era served also to fundamental methodological

discussions in art history. In the iconography/

iconology side and the concept of “disguised

symbolism”, cf. Erwin Panofsky, Early Nether

landish Painting, London: Harper Collins, 1971

(original from 1953); in relation to the stylistic

analysis, Otto Pächt, Van Eyck and the Founders

of Early Netherlandish Painting, New York: Havey

Miller, 2000 and ibid., Early Netherlandish Pain

ting from Rogier van der Weyden to Gerard David,

New York: Havey Miller, 1997 (a ﬁrst collec

tion of several articles was published in 1989).

The most recent introduction to the theme is

Jeffrey Chips Smith, The Northern Renaissance

(Art and Ideas), London: Phaidon Press, 2004;

a reevaluation of the methodological aspects is

Mariyan W. Ainsworth (ed.), Early Netherlandish

Painting at the crossroads: a critical look at current

methodologies, New York: Metropolitan Museum

of Art, 2001; on Antwerpian painting, Hans

Nieuwdorp (org.), Antwerpse retabels: 15de-16de

eeuw, Antwerp cathedral exhibition catalog,

26.5.-3.10.1993, Antwerp: Museum voor Reli

gieuze Kunst, 1993, 2 v.

See Müller-Hofstede, p. 157.

On the iconography and, above all, the icono-

graphy of the Passion, see: Kim Woods, “Thè

mes iconographiques et sources”, in: Miroirs du

Sacré op.cit., pp. 77-94 and Jean-Pierre Delville,

“Images de la Passion et regard de compassion”,

in: ibid. and Bret L. Rothstein, Sight and Spiri

tuality in early Netherlandish Painting, Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Müller-Hofstede attributes to Jan van Beer

the same period cruciﬁxion, presently in the

Diocesan Museum of Cologne, and believes

that it was a copy from Jan van Dornicke’s

cruciﬁxion. Müller-Hofstede, pp. 159-60.

Peter Burke, “Antwerp, a Metropolis in Eu-

rope”, in: Jan van der Stock (org.), Antwerp.

Story of a metropolis, 16th-17th century. Ghent:

Snoek-Ducaju, 1993, pp. 49-57.

Leon Voet, “Antwerp, the Metropolis and its

History”, in: Antwerp. Story of a metropolis, 16th-

17th century, op. cit., p. 13-17. A fundamental

study of Flemish culture, Johan Huizinga, The

Autumn of the Middle Ages, Chicago: University

of Chicago Press, 1996 (Dutch original from

1919). On the importance of Antwerp and its

market in general, see the depth research of

Hermann van der Wee, The Growth of the An

twerp Market and the European Market, fourteenth-

sixteenth centuries, 3 v., The Hague: Martinus

Nijhoff, 1963, here v. 2.

Voet, p. 15.

See Elizabeth Alice Honig, Painting and the

Market in Early Modern Antwerp, New Haven

and London: Yale University Press, 1999, and

Hermann van der Wee and Jan Materne, “An

twerp as a World Market in the Sixteenth and

Seventeenth Centuries”, in: Antwerp. Story of a

metropolis, 16th-17th century, Jan van der Stock

(org.), Ghent: Snoek-Ducaju, 1993, pp. 19-31

and more recently Hans J. Van Miegroet and

Neil de Marchi (eds.), Mapping for Paintings in

Early Modern Europe 1450-1750, Turnhout: Bre

pols, 2006. A general vision of the research

is offered by J.M. Montias, “Socio-Economic

Aspects of Netherlandish Art from Fifteenth

RHAA 6 207

Traduções/Translations

to the Seventeenth Century: A Survey”, in: Art

Bulletin, vol. LXXII, 1990, pp. 358-373.

Van der Wee, p. 22 and Honig, p. 10.

Van der Wee, p. 23.

Idem, p. 21.

Voet, p. 16.

Van der Wee, p. 28.

On the relationship between the market and

the arts in general, see Michael North and

David Ormond (org.), Art Markets in Europe,

1400-1800, Alderhot, Brookﬁeld et. al.: Ash

gate, 1998, above all the introduction “Intro

duction: Art and its Markets”, pp. 1-6 and also

Marzan W Ainsworth, “The Business of Art:

Patrons, Clients, and Art Markets”, in: From

Van Eyck to Bruegel: early Netherlandish painting

in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Marzan W.

Ainsworth and Keith Christiansen (org.), Me

tropolitan Museum of Art Catalog, New York,

1998, pp. 23-38; for the most part, the catalog

offers many textual and visual sources. See

also John Michael Montias, “Le marché de

l’art aux Pays-Bas, XV

et XVI

siècles”, in:

Annales 1993, pp. 1541-63.

Alfons K. L. Thijs, “Antwerp’s Luxury Indus-

tries: the Pursuit of Proﬁt and Artistic Sensiti

vity”, in: Antwerp. Story of a metropolis, 16th-17th

century, Jan van der Stock (org.), Ghent: Snoek-

Ducaju, 1993, pp. 105-13; here p. 105 and Her

man van der Wee and Jan Materné, “Antwerp

as a World Market in the Sixteenth and Seven

teenth Centuries”, in: ibid., pp. 19-32.

Thijs, p. 105, and also Lynn F. Jacobs, “The

Marketing and Standardization of South Ne

therlandish Carved Altarpieces: Limits on the

Role of the Patron”, in: Art Bulletin, vol. LXXI,

1989, pp. 208-29; and also Lorne Campell,

“The Art Market in the Southern Nether

lands in the Fifteenth Century”, in: Burlington

Magazine CXVIII, 1976, pp. 188-98. On the

cooperation between the engravers and the

painters, see also Lynn F. Jacobs, “The inver

ted ‘T’-Shape in Early Netherlandish Altarpie

ces: Studies in the Relation between Painting

and Sculpture”, in: Zeitschrift f

ür Kunstgeschichte

57, 1991, pp. 33-65 and her main work, idem:

Early Netherlandish Carved Altars, Cambridge

and London: Cambridge University Press,

1998 and more recently idem, “Fabrication et

modes de production”, in: Brigitte d’Hainaut-

Zveny (org.), Miroirs du Sacr

é, Brussels: CFC-

Editions, 2005, pp. 35-54.

Thijs, p. 106.

“Half-silk” refers to a tissue composed with

50% of silk and 50% of cotton or other ma

terial.

Thijs, p. 107 and also Claire DuMortier,

“Commercialisation et distribution”, in: Mi

roirs du Sacr

é, op.cit., pp. 63-76.

Thijs, p. 108.

About the market in the Church of Our Lady

see also Dan Ewing, “Marketing Art in An

twerp, 1460-1560: Our Lady’s ‘Pand’”, in: Art

Bulletin, v. LXXII, 1990, pp. 558-638.

Thijs, p. 109.

Idem, ibidem.

Catheline Périer-d’Ieteren, “Le marché

d’exportation de l’organisation du travail

dans les aterliers brabançons aux XVe et XVIe

siècles”, in: Actes du Colloque Artistes, artisans

et production artistique au Moyen Age (Rennes,

Université de Haute-Bretagne 1983) vol. III,

Fabrication et consommation de l'oeuvre. Pa

ris: Picard, 1990, pp. 629-45.

Above all Guido Marneff, Antwerp in the Age

of Reformation. Underground Protestantism in a

Commercial Metropolis, 1550-1577, Baltimore

and London: The Johns Hopkins University

Press, 1996.

Thijs, p. 110.

Alois Riegl, Grundlagen zu einer Geschichte der

Ornamentik, Berlin: Schmidt, 1923 and the

anthology of articles idem, Gesammelte Au

ätze, ed. by Karl M. Swoboda, Augsburg:

Filser, 1929. On Riegl, see Margaret Rose

Olin, Alois Riegl and the crisis of representation in

art theory, 1860-1905; on the Vienna school,

see recently Edwin Lachnit, Die Wiener Schule

der Kunstgeschichte und die Kunst ihrer Zeit: zum

Verh

ältnis von Methode und Forschungsgegenstand am

Beginn der Moderne, Vienna: Böhlau, 2005 and

Maria Theisen (org.), Wiener Schule: Erinnerung

und Perspektiven, Vienna: Böhlau, 2004. Also

Wiener Jahrbuch fur Kunstgeschichte, no. 53, 2004.

Heinrich Wölfﬂin, Renaissance und Barock: eine

Untersuchung

über Wesen und Entstehung des Ba-

rockstils in Italien, Munich: Ackermann, 1888;

idem, Kunstgeschichtliche Grundbegriffe: das

Problem der Stilentwicklung in der neueren

Kunst, Munich: Bruckmann, 1920.

Erwin Panofsky, Studies in iconology: humanistic

themes in the art of the Renaissance, New York:

Oxford University Press, 1939. It is not pos

sible here to discuss the development of the

thought following the fundamental ideas of

Aby Warburg and of the so-called Warburg

school, including the inner differentiations,

as well as the connections between the repre

sentatives of the Vienna school, above all Max

Dvořák and the Hamburg school intellectu

als. More recently, see the general overview

in Michael Hatt, Charlotte Klonk, Art history,

a critical introduction to its methods, Manchester:

Manchester University Press, 2006.

Leo Balet, Die Verbürgerlichung der deutschen Kunst,

Literatur und Musik im 18. Jahrhundert, Strasburg:

Heitz, 1936; Max Raphael, Idee und Gestalt: ein

Führer zum Wesen der Kunst, Munich: Delphin-

Verlag, 1921; idem, Proudhon, Marx, Picasso: trois

études sur la sociologie de l’art, Paris: Edition Excel-

sior, 1933; idem, Theorie des geistigen Schaffens auf

marxistischer Grundlage, Frankfurt: Fischer, 1974.

Hanna Deinhard is a very interesting case. She

is known in Brazil with the name of Hanna

Levy, who published several articles about the

so-called Brazilian baroque in the 40’s: Hanna

Levy, Henri W

ölfﬂin. Sa théorie. Sés prédécesseurs,

Rottweil: Rothschild,1936. Arnold Hauser sou

ght with his publications a “third way”: Arnold

Hauser, Sozialgeschichte der Kunst, Munich: Beck,

1967; several publications that refers to his

name are compared with the three previously

mentioned, dubbed as a “vulgar Marxism”.

Using the name of Hanna Deinhard, Bedeutung

und Ausdruck: zur Soziologie der Malerei, Neu

wied: Luchterhand, 1967.

Martin Warnke, Bau und Überbau: Soziologie der

mittelalterlichen Architektur nach den Schriftquellen,

Frankfurt: Syndikat, 1976; idem, Der Hofküns-

tler, Köln: Dumont, 1985; Horst Bredekamp,

Kunst als Medium sozialer Konﬂikte: Bilderkäm-

pfe von der Sp

ätantike bis zur Hussitenrevolution,

Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1975.

Horst Belting, Das Ende der Kunstgeschichte: eine

Revision nach zehn Jahren, Munich: Beck, 1995, re

cently translated to Portuguese (O ﬁm da Hist

ória

da Arte. São Paulo: Cosac & Naify, 2006).

Horst Belting, Bild-Anthropologie: Entwürfe fur

eine Bildwissenschaft, Munich: Fink, 2001 and,

recently, Klaus Sachs-Hombach (ed), Bildwis-

senschaft: Disziplinen, Themen, Methoden, Frankfurt:

Suhrkamp, 2005; in the USA, for instance,

Norman Bryson, Michael Ann Holly (eds.),

Visual Theory, Cambridge: Polity Press, 1991;

James Elkins, Visual studies: a skeptical introduc

tion, New York: Routledge, 2003; Nicholas

Mirzozeff (ed.), Visual culture reader, London:

Routledge, 1998; idem, An introduction to visual

culture, London: Routledge, 1999. From the cre-

ator of the term pictorial turn, W.J.T. Mitchell,

What do pictures want? The lives and loves of images,

Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2005;

David Morgan, Visual Piety: A history and theory of

popular religious images, Berkeley, Los Angeles, and

London: University of California Press, 1999;

idem, The sacred gaze: Religious visual culture in theory

and practice, Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London:

University of California Press, 2005.

Discussed in the most basic sense in the book

of the historian Peter Burke, Eyewitnessing. The

uses of images as historical evidence, London: Re-

aktion Books, 2001, and analyzed deeply in

relation to photography in the book edited

by Elizabeth Edwards, Chris Gosden, Ruth

Phillips (eds.), Sensible objects: colonialism, museums

and material culture, Oxford: Berg, 2006.

Ulpiano T. Bezerra Menezes, “Fontes visu-

ais, cultura visual, História visual: balanço

provisório, propostas cautelares”, in: Revista

Brasileira de Hist

ória, vol. 23, n. 45, 2003, pp.

11-36, here p. 29.

“The external images are ‘attached’ to the

subject’s existence experienced as bodily, lo

208 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

cked together; the subject is ‘locked up’ in

the external world”, Mieke Bal, The Practice of

Cultural Analysis. Exposing interdisciplinary inter

pretation, Stanford: Stanford University Press,

1999, p. 11.

Just to cite one of the more analytical appro-

aches, James Clifford, Routes. Travel and Trans

lation in the late Twentieth Century, Cambridge,

London: Harvard University Press, 1997.

See Müller-Hofstede, p. 159.

On the relationship between the city and the

Islamic world, see Alistair Hamilton, Arab cul

ture and Ottoman Magniﬁcence in Antwerp’s Golden

Age, London: Oxford University Press, 2001;

for the relationship between the Flemish art

and the Mediterranean world, Marina Belo

zerskaya, Rethinking the Renaissance: Burgundian

Arts across Europe, Cambridge: Cambridge

University Press, 2002; Till-Holger Borchert

(ed.), Age of Van Eyck: the Mediterranean World

and Early Netherlandish Painting, 1430-1530,

Groening museum catalog, Stedelijke Musea

Brugge, Bruges: Luidon, 2002, and Paula

Nutall, From Flanders to Florence: the Impact of

Netherlandish Painting 1400-1500, New Haven:

Yale University Press, 2004.

Hans Sedlmayr, Zu einer strengen Kunstwis-

senschaft, in: Kunstwissenschaftliche Forschungen, 1,

1931, reprinted in Hans Sedlmayr, Kunst und

Wahrheit, Mittenwald: Mäander, 1978, pp. 49-

80; Otto Pächt, Das Ende der Abbildtheorie,

in: Kritische Berichte zur kunstgeschichtlichen Litera-

tur, 3/4, 1930/1931, pp. 1-9; see also the articles

grouped in the anthology of Christopher S.

Wood (org.), The Vienna School reader: politics and

art historical method in the 1930s, New York: Zone

Books, 2000, above all the introduction, pp. 9-

81, and the discussion in Frederic J. Schwartz,

Blind spots: critical theory and the history of art in

twentieth-century Germany, New Haven: Yale Uni

versity Press, 2005, pp. 137-242.

Hercules between Vice and Virtue and

Allegory of Wisdom and Strength: Ve-

ronese copies made by François

Boucher from the Museu de

Arte de São Paulo (MASP)

Maria Antonia Couto da Silva

PhD student of History of Art,

IFCH/Unicamp

It is our aim, in this article, to contrib-

ute to the understanding of the histori

cal and artistic context of two paintings

nowadays in the collection of the Museu

de Arte de São Paulo (MASP). They are

copies of Paolo Veronese’s (1528-1588)

paintings made by François Boucher

(1703-1770), and are known as Hercules

between Vice and Virtue (Fig.1) and Allegory

of Wisdom and Strength (Fig. 2)

This article is based on a master’s

dissertation obtained in the Institute

of Philosophy and Human Sciences

at the State University of Campinas

(Universidade Estadual de Campinas)

in 2003

Veronese’s original paintings, nowa

days in the Frick Collection of New

York, were made around 1576. Bouch

er’s copies, most probably made under

the request of the Portuguese Duke of

Aveiro, are dated to the years following

1752. Back then the originals belonged

to the Collection of the regent of France,

Philippe II, Duke of Orleans.

In his 1989 monograph, Peter

Watson elucidated the path of Allegory

of Wisdom and Strength. While dealing

with this painting he also described the

story of Hercules between Vice and Virtue,

from its creation in Venice to its ﬁnal

destination in the Frick Collection of

New York. When he studied Veronese’s

originals Watson also gathered impor

tant information regarding the copies

made by Boucher.

The attribution of masp’s paintings

When he published his book, in

1989, Peter Watson did not know the

actual location of the paintings, in the

MASP collection. He showed an ex

tremely old photograph of Allegory of

Wisdom and Virtue and informed that

“according to a note at Frick’s archives,

around 1929, Boucher’s copy entered

the collection of the Baron Gui Thom

itz, from Paris”

Although unintentionally, Watson

confirmed, through this note, that

Boucher made the MASP’s paintings.

According to a letter written by Spencer

Samuels to Professor Bardi, nowadays

at the Brazilian museum’s archives, the

paintings acquired by MASP had be

longed to the Baron Thomitz.

Another letter from Mitchell Samu

els, from the French & Co. Gallery of

New York, addressed to Assis Chateau

briand (04/5/1951) and quoted by Luiz

Marques in the MASP’s catalogue reaf

ﬁrms the authorship:

It seems that Veronese’s originals were in

the collection of the regent of France, in the

18th century, when the Duke of Aneiro, from

Portugal, fell in love with them and obtained

special consent, from the regent, to have them

copied, so that the copies were sent to Portugal,

having stayed there until the 1890’s. In the be

ginning of the century, the paintings were shown

to Mr. Bernard Berenson, who examined them

carefully and, obviously, concluded that they

were not the work of Veronese’s hands. After

a cleaning process, he discovered Boucher’s sig

nature, completing, in this way, the whole circle

of data presented above.

The many copies of Veronese’s

paintings

The historical and artistic relations

between the originals, made by a Vene

tian painter from the Renaissance, and

their 18th century French copies are

fascinating, because we have proposi

tions that deal with Art History, taste

and collectionism.

The paintings from MASP also make

us take into account the very meaning of

a copy, something that has been viewed

negatively in the 20th century. The Ro-

mantic conception within the idea of

an inspiration and, maybe, the renewed

possibilities of image reproduction, due

to modern techniques, may have con

tributed to this depreciation.

RHAA 6 209

Traduções/Translations

around them, which was also visited by

artists. These people had access to their

collections and this fact contributed to

the formation of an Italian painting

taste in general, and more speciﬁcally

a Venetian painting taste.

Besides the existing relation with

the artistic context of reappraisal of

Venetian Renaissance masters works,

the paintings copied by Boucher also

deserve to be distinguished due to the

iconography they display, which we will

comment on brieﬂy.

Some considerations on the works’

iconography

The allegories made for Rudolph

II are among Veronese’s masterpieces.

The painting Hercules Choice or Hercules

between Vice and Virtue is an alteration

done over a set of themes important

to Renaissance painters.

According to Erwin Panofsky’s es

say

the myth of the choice of Hercules

is narrated by Prodicus. Xenophon in

Memorabilia, II, I, 21-33, transmitted its

oldest version: Hercules, young, ﬁlled

up with doubts, was meditating by him

self in a remote, undetermined, place.

Two women appear and approach him,

trying to grab the young man’s attention

by promising, each one in a different

way, to lead him to happiness. The ﬁrst

one, who represents Vice, promises an

easier and more pleasant path, because

its joyful and idler; the second one, as

sociated with Virtue, points out to a

difﬁcult and long path, full of dangers

and privations. Hercules choice is well

known: he chooses Virtue.

The character gained a surprising

multiplicity of roles in the philosophi

cal ﬁeld. Both in pythagoric, stoic and

sophist texts its course is used as a

metaphor of the human condition.

The representation in Veronese’s

painting would have as base the myth

as its narrated in Philostratus’ Life of

Apollonius of Tyana. The text was printed

in Latin, for the ﬁrst time, in 1501. In

tian painting technique of the 16th

century”

These Veronese copies belong to a

historical context of European reap

praisal of Renaissance Venetian paint

ing. In the 18th century, this reappraisal

happened not only through the works

of Sebastiano Ricci, who recaptured

the poetics of Venetian painters from

the 16th century, but also through the

expansion of Rubens’ works in French

context. This can be noticed in the pro

duction of some artists, like Watteau.

Since the end of the 17th century,

The French Academy had been in

volved in a debate between two speciﬁc

groups, the adherents of Poussin and

the adherents of Rubens. The former

supported the primacy of the line. The

latter, the primacy of the color. The

painter Charles Le Brun, director of the

French Academy, defended the primacy

of the line and the models established

by Poussin.

From 1673 onwards, with the publi

cation of Dialogue sur le coloris, by Roger

de Piles, the debate was stimulated. The

academic norm began to be questioned

under the impact of Rubens cycle on

Maria de Medicis’ life, which was ex

hibited at the Luxembourg Palace.

Through Rubens’ works, 18th cen

tury Paris rediscovered the Venetian

chromatic sensibility and the poetics

of its Renaissance masters. The knowl

edge of the Italian models in France

occurred with the disclosure of art

collections such as Crozat’s, Mariette’s

and others. This disclosure happened

through the reproduction of the works

of art, especially through engravings.

The collection of the regent of France,

Philippe II, Duke of Orleans, was, in

that sense, fundamental. This collec

tion was formed by many paintings

from Venetian artists, and many works

from Veronese, among these, the paint

ings studied here.

Both Crozat and Philippe II gathered

a circle of amateurs and art collectors

As noticed by Luiz Marques, it is

important to remember that, through

out the history of art, copies were

fundamental exercises for the artists’

formation. The copy was viewed as an

activity of high aesthetic meaning or

as the tribute to a certain master. From

Mannerism onwards copies were in

the center of the artistic exercise, “the

painters were expected to copy other

painters, architecture and nature, in this

hierarchic order”

. We must remember

that a copy is not an historical and artis

tic arbitrary phenomenon, each period

chooses its masters. On the other hand,

Veronese was widely copied by artists

from all periods: Rubens, Francesco

Guardi, Tiepolo, Sebastiano Ricci and

François Boucher, among others.

Four copies of Veronese’s originals

are known. The ﬁrst copies of each

painting were made around 1655, and

are, nowadays, at the Kunsthistoriches

Museum in Vienna. François Boucher

made the second copies almost a hun

dred years later. Carle van Loo, who

became the king’s main painter in 1762,

made the third copies and one year later

was nominated director of the French

Academy. His paintings are, nowadays,

at the Musée de Cambrai, in France.

The fourth copies, probably from the

end of the 18th century, became known

only in 1971, when the Marquis Bute,

from Scotland, visited the Frick Collec

tion and saw the original of a painting

that had belonged to one of his ances

tors. The authorship of these copies

is unknown, but according to Peter

Watson, the paintings were exhibited

for the ﬁrst time in 1799, in England,

which suggests that they were also

made in the 18th century

Marques notes that, in the case

of the MASP paintings, even when

Michel Laclotte saw them, him who

was director of the Louvre, he mani

fested a “certain perplexity, motivated

above all by the fact that Boucher had

known, when he copied Veronese, how

to mimic, in a perfect way, the Vene

210 RHAA 6

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Philostratus text he opposes the per-

soniﬁcation of voluptuousness, adorned

with golden necklaces, with her hair

carefully braided and wearing golden

sandals, with Virtue, who is bare-feet

and reﬂects a careless image

Panofsky also notes that, among the

ancient texts, Philostratus is the only

source where we can ﬁnd the theme of

the two women trying to gain Hercules

attention, each one by his side, using

not only words and regards, as depicted

in Xenophon’s narration, but also using

gestures and even force.

In his essay, Panofsky showed that

the painting Hercules between Vice and

Virtue was made with a lot more free

dom if we were to compare it with the

iconography depicted by other artists

before Veronese. In Veronese’s paint

ing, the hero, wearing silvery clothes

(supposedly it is the artists own por

trait), abandons the young woman so

well dressed up and throws himself in

the arms of the other one, whose as

pect is more severe, wears a laurel and

represents Virtue.

The space in the painting advances

diagonally; the opposition of a cary

atid column to the left and a tree to

the right balances the composition. At

the architrave, which is sustained by

the caryatid, it is written “[HO] NOR

ET VIRTUS [P] OST MORTEM

FLORET” (Honor and virtue ﬂour

ishes after death). The representation

emphasizes, therefore, the question of

immortality connected with the choice

of a virtuous life. Another aspect that

stands out is the high diurnal luminos

ity, which stretches out into the open

space. In this painting, Veronese em

phasizes the scene, which gets closer to

the eye of the spectator, where Hercules

makes his choice.

We must note the strong resem

blance between the female ﬁgures of

this paintings and the ones in another

Veronese painting, using the same

theme, Young man between Vice and Vir

tue, which is nowadays at the Museo del

Prado, Madrid. [Fig.3]. For some re

searchers, among them Bernard Beren

son, the Prado painting would be a later

piece, dating closer to the paintings of

the Frick Collection, around 1580.

In this painting, Hercules turns

into an eight or ten years old boy,

wearing a purple costume, typical of

the patricians. The painter portrayed

the personiﬁcation of voluptuousness

as a ﬁgure adorned with gold, which

glances at the boy in a seductive way.

The ﬁgure of Virtue, standing up,

wearing a laurel and wrapped in a

kind of cloak, grabs the boy by his

ﬁnger and takes him away in quick

steps. He does not look back at the

personiﬁcation of voluptuousness, and

follows Virtue submissively. Accord

ing to Panofsky, this piece could well

have been produced in order to cel

ebrate the date of an ethical-religious

compromise

On the other hand, the painting

Allegory of Wisdom and Strength can be

considered a development of the theme

that appears at Hercules between Vice and

Virtue. The female character, which

represents Wisdom, turns her eyes to

wards the ﬁrmament. She has as one

of her attributes the sun, which shines

over her; it is a sinuous ﬁgure, derived

from ancient statuary sculpture. Her

superiority over the material world is

suggested not only because of the earth

globe, over which her foot lies, or the

wealth spread on the ﬂoor, but by the

thoughtful regard of the second char

acter, Hercules, who leans, once again,

on his club. Inspired, formally wise,

in the Farnese Hercules, here he has

a melancholic regard. Hercules looks

down to the wealth spread on the ﬂoor.

The two ﬁgures stand at foreground;

to the left the space stretches out into

a distant landscape, the luminosity is

from the dawn. At the base of the col

umn there is the inscription OMNIA

VANITAS (everything is vain). The

Vanitas theme became recurrent dur

ing the 17th century.

This painting can be seen as a de

velopment of Hercules’ choice, where

he submits himself to Virtue, here

conceived in the Renaissance manner,

associated with Wisdom.

In both paintings, Veronese refers to

the choice of a virtuous path. He uses

a theme that is, at the same time, erotic

and moralizing.

Panofsky notes that the theme of

Hercules’ choice found its canonic form

later on, in the painting of Annibale

Carracci, produced in 1596 (Museo

Nazionale di Capodimonte, Naples)

[Fig.4]. Carracci’s painting became a

model for the representation of this

theme. The majority of later artists,

right into the 18th century, established

with it a relationship of agreement or

disagreement. In Carracci’s painting,

Hercules is represented sited, listening

to the speech of Virtue, who carries a

short sword. The opposition between

the two female ﬁgures is expressed

through their clothes and hairdos,

more sober in Virtue’s case, and care

fully braided in the personiﬁcation of

voluptuousness.

According to Panofsky, Carracci’s

painting tried to “reconstruct an ideal

from Antiquity” through a harmonic

rhythm. The artist represented an in

tense moment of interior life using as

little movement as possible. His paint

ing distinguished itself because of a

“timeless ideal”. In this sense, he op

posed himself to the “realism of the

period” seen in Veronese’s painting

In the second half of the 17th cen

tury, artists produced a series of varia

tions of Carracci’s painting. It occurred

then a tendency of transforming the se

rene plenitude of the characters forms

into a more vibrant scene. They tried

to nullify its plastic isolation through

the use of an optical relation. In gen

eral terms, the idealizing style inspired

by Carracci’s painting got modiﬁed in

the 18th century. Panofsky notes that,

at this moment we see the emergence

of a more free conception, which tried

RHAA 6 211

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to “modernize” everything that was

considered Classical, turning it into a

matter of subjective orientation

In general terms, in the 18th century,

the representation of Hercules’ choice

gained more theatrical forms. In Rey-

nolds painting, The actor David Garrick

between Comedy and Tragedy (1761, private

collection, England), we arrive even at

a parody.

We should notice that Veronese’s

paintings may have represented an

interesting model in the 18th century,

because they showed an unusual ico

nography. The artist painted two later

moments of the scenes that were usually

depicted. In the piece Hercules between

Vice and Virtue, the character has an ac

tive attitude and the painting could, as

well, have been named Hercules throws

himself in the arms of Virtue

The two Veronese paintings ana

lyzed here present models of political

iconography that were associated to the

images of those in power. This point

justiﬁes the fact that they belonged to

the collectionism tradition, which by its

turn was connected to sovereigns and

governments. We should remember the

trajectory of these paintings, because

they belonged, successively, to Rudolph

II, Habsburg emperor, to the Queen

Christine, of Sweden, and later, prob

ably, to the Duke of Aveiro, a noble

connected to the King D. John V, of

Portugal

Besides the set of themes, works

from Venetian painters like Tiziano

and Veronese also became models for

French artists since the beginning of

the 18th century. These paintings were

sought-after by collectors and their

copies were held in good praise, as the

Pierre Crozat collection has shown.

This rediscovery of the Venetian mas

ters was linked to the debates around

the supremacy of the line over the

color, which took place in the French

Academy in the 18th century. We will

comment on this bellow.

The polemic over drawing and

coloring

In France, The Royal Academy of

Painting and Sculpture, founded in

1648, had the purpose not only of

forming artists, but also of establish

ing reﬂections about art. The French

Academy built a tradition connected to

the Historic Painting and to the draw

ing technique of Poussin. Drawing

and expression formed the base of the

painting, and color was only considered

as an accident. The painter Charles Le

Brun, director of the Academy, af

ﬁrmed that color “depends entirely on

the material and, therefore, it is less no

ble than the drawing, which depends

upon the spirit”

. The debate about the

coloring was then set in an institution

whose order and functioning had been

sustained, since its foundation, by the

adherents of the drawing.

This discussion was ancient. In the

16th century, Giorgio Vasari and Lu

dovico Dolce wrote about the primacy of

the drawing or the color. We recognize

in the French context the return of ideas

already present in the Italian debate of

the 16th century. Jacqueline Lichtenstein

stressed the existence of similar con

cepts in the adherents of drawing and of

color minds, in both historical contexts:

in 16th century Italy and in the end of

the 18th century France

. But in France,

the Academy forced the organization of

a theory and led to the radicalization of

the theoretic postulates.

It is worth examining, although in

a summoned up form, the main ques-

tions linked to the polemic between

Vasari and Dolce, and it is also worth

examining the debates in the French

Academy in the 17th century which, in

some way, inﬂuenced a whole genera

tion of painters, among them Watteau

and Antoine Coypel.

1- The controversy drawing-color: vasari and dolce

The founding of the Accademia delle

Arti del Disegno in Florence (1563) was

the institutional recognition of artistic

formulations that were produced since

the beginning of the 15th century. The

Academy, in the conception of Giorgio

Vasari, would gather the most excellent

painters, sculptors and architects, and

would have the protection of the grand-

duke of Tuscany, Cosme de Medicis.

The reunion of the arts in one single

organization was based on the idea that

these were united in their beginnings,

by the drawing (disegno), “father of the

three arts: architecture, sculpture and

painting”

In the book Le vitte dei più eccellenti

pittori, scultori e architetti da Cimabue ﬁno

ai nostri giorni (1550 and 1568), Giorgio

Vasari established the notion of drawing

as the base of all imaginative process,

the instrument of the painters think

ing even before its material expression.

The initial idea, the sketches, its ﬁnal

execution, everything belonged to the

creative process named drawing.

The judgement of the works fol

lowed, for Vasari, criteria that valued

graphic and plastic aspects: line and

modeling, form and proportion. The

color, therefore, would give a superﬁ

cial contribution to the drawing. For

the Florentines, the essential was the

representation of the human ﬁgure,

through its contour and modeling.

On the other hand, Venetian paint

ing was based in the convergence of

two specific technical factors: the

employment of oil as involving sub

stance, and of the canvas as support.

The humidity of the Venetian climate

did not favor fresco paintings. Used in

the Netherlands, the employment of oil

painting was particularly important in

Venice in the last quarter of the 15th

century. From the contact with An

tonello da Messina, Giovanni Bellini

explored and developed oil painting to

its full potentialities.

As David Rosand

stressed, Bellini,

with the application of colors in glazes

(thin, translucent layers of paint), tried

to create a light that seemed to emanate

212 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

from the own painting; the light could

ascertain an independent existence to

the illuminated objects. The explora

tion of the oil painting allowed Bellini

to explore the luminosity in its most

suggestive forms.

In Giorgione’s paintings, the ﬁgures

and the objects did not content them

selves in emerging from the shadows

that involved them. They seemed to

share a mutual and palpable atmos

phere. In the artists canvases, the brush

work could be seen more and more. Put

in gently upon the texture of the can

vas, the stroke with the brush created

broken, interrupted, lines which pro

duced a new vibration in the surface.

When he referred to Giorgione,

Vasari wrote that he painted only with

the colors, without putting much ef

fort in drawing upon the paper, which

would have been the best and true way

of painting

. Vasari held that the Vene-

tian painters were not very skilled in

the art of drawing and that they would

hide this through the attraction of the

colors

While the mode of painting from

Central Italy would regard the issue

of the systematic graphic preparation

of the painting, the Venetian masters

painted directly upon the canvas, with

out stopping to transform and to adjust

the compositions. For Vasari and other

critics, Venetian painters’ procedure

seemed arbitrary, irresponsible and,

for instance, in Tintoretto’s case, an

affront to art.

Non Venetian critics turned them-

selves against Tintoretto. His free style

contradicted the established distinc

tions between ﬁnished work and sketch

(ﬁnito and abbozzato). Vasari criticized

Tintoretto when he mentioned paint

ers who imitated Ticiano’s later mode

of painting and “accomplished an

awkward painting”. Armenini (De’ veri

precetti della pittura, 1587) reused Vasari’s

critics and Federico Zuccaro (Lamento

della Pittura sè l’onde Venete, 1605) held

Tintoretto responsible for the decline

of Venetian painting at the end of the

16th century

The Venetian party adherents also

contributed to the debate, but in Ro

sand’s opinion they never succeeded

in developing a theory or system that

could be compared with Vasari’s aes

thetic formulation. In Venice, the criti

cal speech that was most effective was

not, necessarily, analytical, but con

sisted of poetic, open and suggestive

discourses

. This can be observed, for

instance, in Aretino’s prose. In a let

ter written in 1544 and addressed to

Tiziano, he describes a view of the

Grand Canal using pictorial terms

In Dialogo della Pittura, from 1577,

Ludovico Dolce answered to Vasari’s

ﬁrst edition by making an apology of

Tiziano. Dolce respected the traditional

division of painting in three parts (in

vention, drawing and coloring), and

by doing this he turned mimesis into

an obligation in art. Since contours

are abstractions that do not exist in

nature - which is perceived as color

and scheme of colors - an imitation in

painting should be based in color and

not in the line. Dolce considered that,

although numerous painters were excel

lent in drawing and invention, Tiziano

deserved the glory of having a perfect

coloring, being, in painting “divine and

with no equal”

2- The debates in the French academy

The Royal Academy of Painting and

Sculpture, founded in 1648, aimed in

granting painting with a status of lib

eral art, emulating not only the Ac

cademia di San Luca, but also the Acad

émie

Fran

çaise, founded by Richelieu in 1635.

The greatest member who represented

the Academy’s doctrine was Charles

Le Brun, who was also its director and

who received the ofﬁcial commissions.

He also exercised a huge inﬂuence over

the most part of the artists, being, in

the Academy, the moderator and ref

eree of the discussions.

The Academy formed a tradition

linked with the history of painting and

with the ideals of Poussin’s drawing.

Le Brun used to assert that color “de

pends entirely from the substance and,

therefore, is less noble than the drawing,

which only depends upon the spirit”

The debate among the adherents

of drawing and of color would ﬂour

ish in France under the conditions de

termined by Louis 14th politics. The

debating upon coloring was, then, in

serted in an institution which had an

way and a functioning that were guar

anteed, since its foundation, by the

drawing adherents.

Colbert established in the Academy

a cycle of debates. The texts from these

were written and published by Félibien

and, later, by Guillet de Saint-Georges.

The controversy began with a lecture

delivered by Philippe de Champaigne,

in 1671, about one of Tiziano’s paint

ings. The painter took the opportunity

to invoke Poussin’s example, who, after

studying Tiziano’s paintings for some

time, decided to detach himself from

this path

. There followed some ar-

guments for and against the Venetian

masters. Roger de Piles, who attended

the lectures as an amateur and would

become a great defendant of the color

ists, decided to take the debate to the

public and wrote the book Dialogue sur

le Coloris, printed in 1673.

A second episode in this controversy

would have occurred between 1676 and

1681. After loosing his painting collec

tion to the king (among them, many of

Poussin’s paintings), the Duke of Rich

elieu remade it with a series of Rubens’

paintings. He was oriented by Roger

de Piles, to whom the duke trusted the

task of writing its description. The text,

called Le Cabinet de Monseigneur le duc de

Richelieu, ﬁrst appeared in 1675, and re

newed the controversy, which was, by

then, partly forgotten. In the Academy,

the discussions continued through a se

ries of plamphlets, where the authors

would afﬁrm themselves in favor or

RHAA 6 213

Traduções/Translations

against Poussin and Rubens. In 1677,

Roger de Piles took the debate to the

great public, through the text Conversa

tions sur la connoissance de la peinture.

According to Lichtenstein, to go

against the privilege of drawing was

equal to attacking the Academy, that

is, meant questioning not only the

theoretical principle, but also the insti

tutional fundament of liberal dignity in

painting. According to the author, this

is the only way for us to understand

this debate, its vehemence having gone

beyond those of the Italian’s, in the pre

vious century

In France, this situation acquired a

more complex character because the

primacy of drawing was defended by

an institution backed by the monarchy.

Lichtenstein points out that we can rec

ognize, in the French debate, the ideas

about coloring that were also present

in the Italian debate. When the Italian

colorists were accused of reducing the

act of painting to a mere dying process,

or when the colorists were censored for

extracting their quality from the sub

stance which composes the painting,

and from the technique of those who

produced the paints, Dolce insisted over

the necessity of distinguishing the color

(the substance), from the coloring, that

is, the way the artist uses the color

Over a century later, Roger de Piles

would oppose color (substance), which

makes objects visible, and coloring

(technique), essential part of painting.

Through coloring, the painter is able

to imitate the appearance of the colors.

This is the base of the chiaroscuro

sci-

ence. Coloring was criticized because

it could not be taught through the use

of rules, but both French and Italians

answered back using the argument of

talent, the ﬁrst characteristic one ex

pects to ﬁnd in a painter.

Both moments claimed for the

painter’s status and knowledge. With

out those his work would be destitute

of dignity. Nevertheless, Lichtenstein

remembers that, in Italy, there was not

an ofﬁcial doctrine. The texts defend

ing Venetian painting were, as we saw

above, much less objective. In France,

the debates in the Academy led to the

organization of a theory and to the rad

icalization of theoretical postulates. As

is noticed by Lichtenstein, the colorists

defense was not just an aesthetic act,

but a theoretical one, because it was

equal to “assuming the nobility and the

dignity of painting, deﬁning it in a way

that was completely incompatible with

the recurring legitimizing criteria”

In the end of the 17th century a lot

had changed: the ideas Roger de Piles

defended had triumphed, and, in 1699,

he was chosen honorary counselor of

the Academy. The period of the contro-

versy had gone by, and the old professor

was listened to with respect: the victory

belonged to the adherents of color.

Final considerations

As a consequence of the debates

in the Academy, Rubens’ works were

extremely studied by French artists,

specially, the cycle of Maria de Medici,

which was created for the Luxembourg

Palace, between 1621 and 1625. Marques

has pointed out : “Partly through Ru

bens coloring we see Paris of the end of

the 17th century and beginning of the

18th century rediscover the chromatic

sensibility, this is the Venetian lesson,

which elected Tiziano and Veronese as

its greatest Renaissance painters”

This Venetian masters were funda

mental for the French artists poetics.

For instance, for Watteau, as can be

perceived in his paintings, structured

through the coloring, and also in his free

brush stroke or in some of his chosen

themes. Roger de Piles writings and his

eulogy to the Venetian coloring also in-

ﬂuenced the formation of great Parisian

collections, for instance, those of Pierre

Crozat

and Philippe II of Orleans, to

whom belonged the originals paintings

that were copied by Boucher, and that

were the main subject of this article.

Although brieﬂy, I have intended to

draw some comments, in this article,

on the cultural context in which one

can place both paintings of Boucher

and on their iconographic relevance.

As Marques points out, for the reasons

presented above, Veronese copies made

by François Boucher, currently in the

MASP collection, attain a paradigmatic

character, historic and artistic wise

English version:

Maria Cristina Nicolau Kormikiari Passos

tanit@usp.br

The MASP paintings were done in oil over

canvas and measure 223x171 cm.

SILVA, Maria Antonia Couto da. The Vero-

nese Copies done by François Boucher, from

the collection of Museu de Arte de São Paulo.

Dissertation (masters), Campinas: Unicamp,

IFCH - State University of Campinas, Institute

of Philosophy and Human Sciences. (Adviser:

Professor Luiz César Marques Filho), 2003.

WATSON, Peter. Wisdom and Strength: The Bi-

ography of a Renaissance Masterpiece. New York,

Doubleday, 1989, p. 210.

MARQUES, Luiz. Corpus da Arte Italiana em

Coleções Brasileiras, 1250-1950 - A Arte Italiana no

Museu de Arte de São Paulo. São Paulo: Berlendis

e Vertecchia, 1996. pp. 84-85.

MARQUES, Luiz. “De onde nasce um mu-

seu”. Revista Galeria, São Paulo, 18, 1990, p. 90.

WATSON, Peter. Op. cit., p. 210.

MARQUES, Luiz. 1990. Op. cit., p. 91.

PANOFSKY, Erwin. Hercule à la croisée des chemins.

Paris: Flammarion, 1999. [Original: Hercules am

Scheidewege und andere antike Bildstoffe in neueren

Kunst, Leipzig: Berlin, B.G. Teubner, 1930].

Philostratus, VI, 10, quoted in Panofsky, Er-

win. Op. cit., pp. 100-102.

PANOFSKY, Erwin. Op. cit., p.110.

Ibid., p.120.

Ibid., p.128.

The existing documentation in the Museu de

Arte de São Paulo, which relates to the two

Boucher copies, mentions a Duke of Aneiro

as the person who ordered the paintings,

and tells us that after his death they became

“property of the Bragança family, reigning

in Portugal” (letter from Mithchell Samuels

214 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

to Assis Chateaubriand, 04/05/1951). In the

dictionaries and in the books about Portugal’s

history, which we consulted, references to the

Duke of Aneiro were not found. We, then,

decided to use the hypothesis that the person

who ordered the paintings was, in fact, José

Marcarenhas, Duke of Aveiro, because he was

an important person in Portugal back then.

Charles Le Brun, “Sentiments sur le discours

de M. Blanchar”, speech of 1672, quoted in

LICHTEINSTEIN, Jaqueline. A cor eloqu

ënte.

São Paulo: Siciliano, 1994, p. 157.

LICHTENSTEIN, Jaqueline. Op. cit. p. 157.

VASARI, Giorgio. Le Vite dei piu eccelenti pittori,

scultori ed architetti da Cimabue ﬁno ai nostri giorni.

[1568]. Roma: Tascabili, 1991, p. 73.

ROSAND, David. Peindre à Venise au XVIe.

écle. Paris: Flammarion, 1982.

“Ma venuto poi, l’anno circa 1507, Giorgione

da Castel Franco, non gli piacendo in tutto il

detto modo di fare, cominciò a dare alle sue

opere più morbidezza e maggiore rilievo con

bella maniera; usando nondimeno di cacciar

si avanti le cose vive e naturali, e di contra

farle quanto sapeva il meglio con i colori, e

macchiarle con le tinte crude e dolci, secondo

che il vivo mostrava, senza far disegno; ten

endo per fermo che il dipingere solo con i

colori stessi, senza’altro studio di disegnare in

carta, fusse il vero e miglior modo di fare ed

il vero disegno”. VASARI, Giorgio. Op. cit.,

pp. 1285-1286.

“Quando altri há fatto la mano disegnando

in carta, si vien poi di mano in mano con più

agevolezza a mettere in opera disegnando e

dipigendo. E così facendo pratica nell’arte, si

fa la maniera ed il giudizio perfetto, levando

via quella fatica e stento con che si condu

cono le pitture, di cui si è ragionato di sopra,

per non dir nulla, che disegnando in carta,

si viene a empiere la mente di bei concetti,

e s’impara a fare a mente tutte le cose della

natura, senza avere a tenerle sempre innanzi,

o ad avere a nasc[ond]ere sotto la vaguezza

de’ colori lo stento del non sapere disegnare;

nella maniera che fecero molti anni i pittori

viniziani, Giorgione, il Palma, il Pordenone,

et altri che non videro Roma, né altre opere

di tutta perfezione”. VASARI, Giorgio. Op.

cit., p. 1286.

Quoted in ROSAND, David. Op. cit., pp.

29, 215-216.

Quoted in ibid., pp. 31-32.

Letter from Pietro Aretino to Tiziano, May

1544, published in BOTTARI, Giovanni G,

TICOZZI, Stefano. Raccolta di lettere sulla pit

tura, scultura ed architettura: scritta da’ piu celebrati

personaggi dei secoli XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII.

Milan: G. Silvestri, 1822; [éd. Fac.sim, New

York: G. Olms, 1976], pp. 115-118.

According to ROSAND, David. Op. cit., p. 32.

Charles Le Brun, Sentiments sur le discours de M.

Blanchard, discourse from 1672 Quoted in LI

CHTENSTEIN, Jaqueline. Op. cit., p. 157.

According to THUILLIER, Jacques. Poussin.

Paris: Flammarion, 1994, p. 183.

LICHTENSTEIN, Jaqueline. Op. cit., p. 151.

Ibid., p. 154.

Ibid., p. 156.

MARQUES, Luiz. 1990. Op. cit., p. 91.

According to an article of STUFFMANN,

Margret. “Les tableaux de la collection de

Pierre Crozat”, Gazette des Beaux-Arts: Paris,

72, June-September 1968.

MARQUES, Luiz. 1990. Op. cit., p. 91.

To Excavate the Past, To (Re-)

construct the Present: The sym

bolic uses of Classical Antiquity

by Napoleon Bonaparte

Raquel Stoiani

Master of Science in Social History, USP

PhD student, USP, with the ﬁnancial

support of Capes

Renata Senna Garraffoni

PhD in History, Unicamp

Ancient History lecturer, UFPR (Paraná Federal

University)

Associate researcher at CPA (Ancient Thought

Center) and NEE (Center of Strategic Studies),

Unicamp

Introduction

In the last years, the Classical studies

have suffered many changes. Consid

ered, for a long time, as a discipline

without any relation to modern politics,

the critical approach to that stereotype,

headed by Martin Bernal

, has inspired

many classicists to rethink the theoreti

cal and methodological aspects of the

discipline and to explore the cultural

contexts, permeated by the modern

nationalism and imperialism, in which

the concepts were produced

Such discussions have produced a se-

ries of new interpretations in which the

specialists sought less normative read

ings of the classical past. Moreover, the

notion that the study of the past is not

isolated from the present has propitiated

the development background in which

the relationships between the ancient

and the modern world are much closer

than they could seem at a ﬁrst glance.

We are not referring ourselves here to a

simplistic explanation that connects the

modern to the ancient, but to the pro

duction of sophisticated readings of the

classical past with the aim to legitimate

governments, to claim cultural heritages

and to deﬁne national identities.

The present article is set in this criti

cal perspective. Taking as an example

the ﬁgure of Napoleon Bonaparte, we

will seek, in what follows, to discuss the

uses of the classical past and the rising

French Archaeology in the construction

of his public image. In this moment, the

collective representations of the past

and the search for the historical origins

(re-)deﬁned the French identity after a

long revolutionary process, which had

shaken them. As we will see, Napoleon,

the emerging leader of this process, at

tempted to enlarge the limits of the

French Empire and to consolidate his

power. In doing so, he has not concen

trated only in the battleﬁelds and in his

military power, but also on the archaeo

logical sites and in the use of the sciences

and the arts. In this way, the investment

in the studies of the ancient world would

be an integral part of his politics.

In the 1970, Said has already alerted

to that relationship.

In his book Orien-

talism, the author highlights Napoleon’s

sagaciousness in using the studies of the

specialists in Orientalism in order to

occupy the Egypt. This attitude played

RHAA 6 215

Traduções/Translations

a crucial role upon the studies of the

region’s past as well as in the creation

of modern notions of the Western and

the Eastern worlds. It is not fortuitous,

therefore, the relationship between Na

poleon Bonaparte and the development

of Archaeology in France. We just have

to remember the discovery of the fa

mous “Rosetta Stone”. This important

archaeological finding, whose deci

phering turned it into the base for the

development of the modern Egyptol

ogy, took place in July 19, 1799, that is

to say, in the middle of the Egyptian

Campaign (1798-1801). This was one of

the legendary landmarks of the revo

lutionary general Bonaparte who was

there, between 1798 and 1799, in the

command of the French army.

In analyzing Napoleon under the

point of view of the symbolic construc

tion of his power (here understood not

only as the symbols that represented

the power in itself, but also as every

thing that could suggest it), we will try

to relate his politics with the archaeo

logical references to the ancient past.

We venture to propose this approach

because we understand that the Napo

leonic “symbolic power”

was highly

mediated by such references. For such,

we will emphasize how Napoleon, with

his propaganda machine, made con

stant use of Archaeology, under several

aspects, with the ﬁnality of legitimating

himself politically and of framing sym

bolically his power. Considering this

point of view, we propose an analysis

constructed in three interrelated top

ics: the material, the mental, and the

political aspects.

Excavating the ancient world: ma-

terial culture and its symbolic use

During his government (1799-1815),

Napoleon Bonaparte was a notorious

stimulator of academies, institutes, art

ists and scientists, giving continuity to

the patronage policy of the kings of the

Anci

èn Régime. He himself had occupied,

from 1797 on, a place as a member of

the Institut

in the class of “Science”

(Mathematics). As he was a member of

the Institut and had close relations with

its scientists, Napoleon always sought

to employ the technological innova

tions in the issues of his government.

Furthermore, as Gillispie reminds us,

“Napoleon realized the Institute’s pos

sibilities as an instrument to transform

the French universalism into cultural

imperialism”.

The Egypt’s Campaign (1798-1801)

was to be the ﬁrst great demonstra

tion of the use of the potential of the

members of the Institut in favor of the

Napoleonic interests. Among the min

eralogists, mathematicians, astrono

mers, civil, mining and soil, engineers,

geographers, architects, draftsman,

mechanical artists, translators, men of

letters, typographers, doctors, chemists,

cartographers, naturalists and archae

ologists, the list including even a pianist

and a sculptor, there were Vivant-De

non (1747-1825), Monge (1746-1818),

Saint-Hilaire (1779-1853) and Cham

pollion (1790-1832).

Although the Egyptian Campaign

had not been a military success, Bona

parte’s decision to involve in it a series

of artists and scientists would make it

be an important landmark in the con

struction of his public image. After all,

they would be responsible to recreate, to

decode to the French people the Egyp

tian Antiquity in different grounds, and

to use it to the Napoleon’s gloriﬁcation.

Dominique Vivant-Denon’s La

Descrip-

tion de l’Egypte

is one of the greatest ex-

amples of the use of the Egyptian Cam

paign and of its archaeological ﬁndings

to the aim of creating propaganda and

ideological effects. This is so despite

the fact that the apparent motivation

for its publication was the description

of the scientiﬁc results of the expedi

tion, which included, among others, the

discovery of the “Rosetta Stone”.

On its turn, the excavations in Pom

peii and Herculaneum, initiated in the

end of the ﬁrst half of the eighteenth-

century, would receive support be

tween 1770 and 1815, during the Na

poleonic government. Even indirectly,

these excavations expressed Napole

on’s “archaeological facet”. In 1806,

for instance, José Bonaparte, recently

proclaimed King of Naples (1806-1808)

by his brother Napoleon, concedes to

Christophe Saliceti (Born in Corsica

as the Bonaparte’s) the direction of

the archaeological works of these two

sites. In 1808, Caroline, while acceding,

alongside her husband Joachim Murat,

the government of Naples (1808-1815),

in substitution to her brother José re

cently placed in the throne of Spain

by Napoleon, takes under her personal

protection the excavation works. Her

idea was to transform Pompeii into a

place for public visitation and, because

of that, she played an important role

in the divulgation of the data obtained

during the excavations. In this sense,

Marina Cavicchioli highlights that the

excavation funded by Caroline not only

had the aim of collecting works from

Pompeii, but had the aim of construct

ing a speciﬁc kind of past, seeking for

relationships between the Roman Em

pire and the French imperialism.

Seeking to create a new identity to

the French people under his govern

ment, Napoleon also stimulated the

archaeological researches and the re

sults were fundamental to the framing

of that process. In that way, the stud

ies and researches in Egypt helped to

define the differences between the

modern Western and Eastern worlds.

They also evoked the Roman military

power from its main symbols

as the

triumphal arch or the notion of Empire

as well as reinterpreted the Celtic (Gal

lic) populations after the foundation of

the Acad

émie Celtique, in 1805. Dietler

afﬁrms that, with the decision to organ

ize a center for Celtic studies, Napoleon

reintegrated the Gallic people in a place

of glory. He was exploring the ambi

guities of the French identity from the

tensions propitiated by the evocation

216 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

of such distinct pasts, building a policy

that envisioned to demarcate who were

the ancestral of that people and to jus

tify ideologically the expansion of his

Empire.

Through Napoleon’s intention to

recover these treasures from Antiquity

and to interpret them according to his

expansionist policy, the artists who

worked under his protection were the

main responsible for transposing such

values to the quotidian of the begin

ning of the nineteenth-century Napo

leonic France. Through the so-called

“Imperial Style” [ﬁg. 1], identiﬁed with

Napoleon’s government, the aesthetic

that was ﬂourishing with the excava

tions won the sympathy especially of

the French elite, mixing Greek, Roman,

and Egyptian elements, what would re

inforce in the decoration, in the archi

tecture, and in the fashion, the cult to

that classical past:

The motives, employed in the revetments,

in the furniture, in the tissues, in the ceramics,

in the goldsmith, are inspired in Antiquity.

Leroy’s compendium has placed into fashion the

caryatides of the Erechtheum, from the Greek

vases they get their shape, their palm leaves,

their detached ﬁgures; Rome offers her victories,

her fames, garlands, her trophies, her stuccos,

her mosaics. From Pompeii come the maenads

and her leopards, the satyrs, the cupids, (…)

the columns. The Egyptian expedition only

has ﬁxed the fashion of the sphinxes, of the

Isis, (…) of the capital (…).Vivant-Denon,

when returned from Thebes, solicits to Jacob a

furniture inspired in his drawings (…). The

expedition fostered the frequent mixture of all

these motives, which were from several origins; it

does not matter, so long as they are ancient. (...)

These men are dreaming to be the contempora

ries of Perikles, of August, of Cleopatra.

Architects and the other artists re-

visited Rome and explored her civic

virtues that they considered extempo

ral, they saluted Egypt and his primacy

as the cradle of civilization, and they

reinterpreted the reputed Greek art.

The historical examples of people that

had knew so much to realize the ideal

of great beauty, now had come to ex

press the revolutionary grandiloquence

and, as following, the imperial ambi

tions of Napoleon. Therefore, one of

the formulas that he would employ to

crystallize himself to posterity linked

his name to an aesthetic and a person

alized architectonic monumentality,

which has founded in the neoclassic

art its best expression.

It is necessary to highlight that this

style inspired in Antiquity, extremely

luxurious, could also be recognized in

the streets, through the fashion that be

come known as the “Imperial Style”.

In it, the expansive tissues (the same

ones used in the upholstered furniture

and walls of the luxuriously decorated

houses), the jewels, and the hairdress

ing, were, alongside pastiches from

Antiquity and symbols of the struggle

of an industrious France, a bourgeois

social codiﬁcation.

We cannot forget to mention the

inﬂuence of the classical aesthetics that

also marked some of the most famous

monuments built in Paris during the

Napoleonic government. The Trium

phal Arch of the Carrousel (1806-1808)

and the Vendôme Column (1806-1810),

both built to celebrate the victory of

the Napoleonic troops in the Battle of

Austerlitz (1805), were inspired in mon

uments of Ancient Rome. The ﬁrst one

was inspired by the Arch of Septimus

Severus (of which the Parisian arch is

a reduced copy) and the second one by

the Trajan Column (which is represented

the expedition of the Roman Emperor

Trajan against the people of Dacia).

This complex net of reinterpreta

tions of the ancient world and, in spe

cial, of the Greco-roman world, has ex

trapolated the universe of the scientiﬁc

researches that the French were starting

to bring to light in the beginning of the

nineteenth-century and started to im

pregnate the French imaginary, produc

ing a very speciﬁc vision of the ancient

past. We would like to examine some of

these issues in the next pages.

The construction of the French

identity: the bridge between

the present and the past in the

Napoleonic period

Besides having marked the embel

lishment of cities, of homes and of

bodies, the use of classical references

in the Neoclassicism, headed by the

painter Jacques-Louis David, has actu

alized and reinforced under the govern

ment of Napoleon an imaginary line of

continuity between the present and the

past. The systematic use of these classi

cal aesthetic models both by the Revolu

tion as by the Empire (David and many

other artists are their bearers from one

epoch to the other) does not reveal only

the uses of that Antiquity in the search

for the legitimization of the power.

has also transposed to contemporary

times, through an imaginary bridge that

seemed to cross the centuries directly

without interruption. The examples of

civism, moral, loyalty and sacriﬁce were

followed by the revolutionary citizens

and, latter, by the vassals of Napoleon.

Many paintings of Jacques-Louis

David (1748-1825),

already famous

since the end of the kingship of Louis

XVI by the painting The Oath of the Ho

ratii (exhibited to the public in 1785),

considered as the manifest of the

French Neoclassicism, are exemplary

cases of the use of that present-past

bridge to shape attitudes and thoughts.

Some of his works that were inspired

in the events of Antiquity, like The In

tervention of the Sabine Women (1799), The

Death of Socrates (1787), and Leonidas at

Thermopylae (1814), besides the Oath it

self,

had placed in evidence the didactic

use of that classical past. This happens

both because David painted them in

gigantic dimensions and because he

chose civic themes.

We can also argue that there was a

kind of classic movement in the lan

guage. Different attitudes detected

this phenomenon such as the recovery

of titles, names of posts and mottoes

from the ancients’ oratory. The use of

RHAA 6 217

Traduções/Translations

regulatory words by famous orators of

Antiquity was in vogue. When Napo

leon resuscitates, in his speeches against

England, the words of Cato “Delenda est

Carthago” (Cartage must be destroyed),

he turns the French-British economic

dispute into a glorious re-edition of the

Punic Wars between Rome and Cartage

that have disputed the dominion over

the Mediterranean in the past. In a

proclamation to the army, which an

teceded the boarding to Egypt, dated

May 19, 1798, done in Toulon, he would

have said:

Les l

égions romaines, que vous avez

quelquefois imit

ées, mais pas encore égalées,

combattaient Carthage tour à tour sur cette

même mer, et aux plaines de Zama. La victoire

ne les abandonna jamais, parce que constam

ment elles furent braves, patientes à supporter

la fatigue, disciplin

ées et unies entre elles.

Napoleon transposed the discipline

and loyalty of the Roman legions to

the nineteenth-century France with

the creation, in May 19, 1802, of the

“Legion of Honor”, a distinction that

contemplated important services ren

dered to France both by the civilians as

by the militaries. Expanding the notion

of reward (until then only expected to

militaries) through all the French social

tissue, it aimed to help to create a cli

mate of internal harmony, especially in

the social point of view. The “Legion”

becomes a “véritable milice du régime

et non pas décoration national”

when

it was accessible to all and was guided

by the acknowledgement of merit.

This was an important instrument in

side the symbolic construction of the

Napoleonic power. When it was laid

over the chest of the contemplated

it formalized and turned explicit the

enrolments (which brought immense

satisfaction to Napoleon when it was all

about the realists or the feverous repub

licans), solidifying, with a “mixture of

authority and equality”,

silent relations

of dependence, gratitude, and protec

tion between Bonaparte and those who

were acknowledged and rewarded.

On its turn, to call the government

that arose after the stroke of the “Bru

maire 18” as a “Consulate” (1799-1802)

is another symptom of that movement.

In this case, the selection of denomina

tions for the new government was not

only a matter of differentiation in rela

tion to the Directory, but a testimony to

the whole need, of Bonaparte and his

now accomplices, to save the appear

ances of legality. Therefore, to reactivate

the triumvirate system was a way to give

the false impression of a tripartite repar

tition of power

while transmitting the

idea that it would not be concentrated in

a single hand. To denominate the French

triumvirs as “consuls de la Republique”

would suggest both a civic morality, by

reactivating the Roman example, as well

as the continuity of the Republic, which

reafﬁrmed to the bourgeoisie the prom

ise of consolidation and maintenance of

its gains obtained during the Revolution.

Inclusively, likewise Julius Caesar, Napo

leon would also carry ofﬁcially the title

of lifelong Consul (1802-1804), a title

that the French Senate would offer to

him and a plebiscite would conﬁrm.

We also cannot let unnoticed the

denomination of Napoleon’s reign. In

adopting the word “Empire”, in direct

reference to the Roman model, besides

illustrating his plans of hegemony in

Europe, Bonaparte also gave the im

pression that the monarchic reestab

lishment that he promoted was not a

continuation, but a breakage. To use the

status of Emperor also served as a jus

tifying motive both to the prerogative

pleaded by him of consecration by the

Pope, as well as to the superior juridical

condition that he wished to enjoy in

front of the other monarchs whom, as

kings and princes, would be considered

his subordinates, likewise the Pope it

self. Tarlé explains:

Napoleon proclaimed that, likewise Char

les Magnus, he will become Emperor of the

Western world and that he did not considered

himself as a successor of the ancient kings of

France, but of the great Charles Magnus.

In reality, the empire of Charles Magnus

has been only a tentative to resurrect and pro

longs another much greater empire: the Ro

man Empire. Napoleon considered himself as

equally the heir of that empire, the unifying

force of the countries of the western civiliza

tion. In fact, before the Russian campaign he

reunited under his direct authority or indirect

dependence a set of territories much ampler

than Charles Magnus’ empire.

In 1812 the formidable power of Napoleon

reached, considering only Europe and letting

aside the Roman possessions in Africa and in

Asia Minor, over vast territories, incomparably

much richer and much populated than the Ro

man Empire. Nevertheless, when Europe knew

Napoleon’s intentions to resurrect Charles Mag

nus’ Empire, this project seemed to many people

a craz y presumption and an insolent challenge

overthrown to the civilized world.

It is still interesting to remember

that, in 1804, Napoleon would elect

the eagle as the symbol of his power,

placing it as one of the main elements

of the visual culture of his Empire.

In reality, since the tenth century the

Sacred Germanic Roman Empire has

already been reusing the Roman impe

rial eagle in the proﬁt of its political

ﬁguration. The choice for this animal,

so long consecrated in the popular im

aginary as an emblem of power, of the

imperial force, a kind of neo-Roman

symbol, besides afﬁrming the imperial

preeminence of Napoleon, also brought

the idea of bellicosity. It could equally

symbolize, somehow, the self-made man

condition displayed by Napoleon him

self, who found a sign of distinction

for his personal political ascension. It is

enough to consider how it suggestes ve

locity,

the velocity which helps in the

persecution, in the catching, that brings

about the capture of the prey (and who

has the control of the situation exercises

the power), which is opposed in terms

of action to the static position of the

cock, symbol of the French monarchy.

In that way, in the arms of Napoleon,

the eagle would be represented in pro

ﬁle and with open wings, catching a

218 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

bundle of lighting bolts (in allusion to

its warrior function), stretched out over

a ﬁeld around which one can see the

Legion of Honor’s distinction.

In this context, the “King of Rome”

title given by Napoleon to the son

François-Charles-Joseph Napoleon,

who was born in 1811 from his sec

ond marriage with the archduchess

Maria Louise of Austria, would not be

a simple honoriﬁc adornment that only

would allude to the seat of the ancient

Roman Empire, reinforcing its symbolic

link with the Napoleonic government.

This title, without doubt, was reafﬁrm

ing the possession of the Italian ter

ritories by the Emperor of the French

who, since 1805, become King of Italy

taking the territories from the Austrian

Emperor, now his father-in-law. In a

certain way, its use also aimed to cool

down the Austrian minds by suggesting

that a prince from that house, despite

being Napoleon’s son, in a way or the

other, would still keep the possession

of these territories.

That mental bridge between past

and present will also be a privileged

pathway that Napoleon will explore in

the construction of his public image

with the use of the so-called mimetic

politics, the third aspect that we shall

discuss as follow.

The classical past and the

construction of the public image

of Napoleon

“Excavating” the political past of

Antiquity, Napoleon reactivated several

of its ﬁgures and started to promote,

with his governmental propaganda

machine, his image as a public man.

These references determinate a his

torical past, which has political impli

cations and we call here of “mimetic

politics”. Although these ﬁgures were

abundantly used by Napoleon, it was

not, however, an innovating recourse

because it had already been used, for

instance, by Louis XIV.

In the title page of the Description de

l’Eg ypte, the artist represented Napo

leon “with the look of a Roman con

queror guiding his chariot in persecu

tion to the Mameluke enemies, while

a Nile personiﬁcation contemplate his

deeds”.

We can better understand the

efﬁcacy of this and some many other

visual discourses pertaining to the

Napoleonic propaganda if we consider

how the models from Antiquity were

dominating the artistic perception of

the time, reaching even the politico-

military issues. In this way, we can

only completely disclose the politico-

ideological meaning of this front page,

dated from the Empire (1809), and its

reﬂexes in the imaginary, inside the

parameters of comparison with Clas

sical Antiquity. In it, a mimetic poli

tics reinforces the image of Bonaparte

with the costume of Roman conqueror

through the mediation of the ﬁgures

of Julius Caesar, Mark Anthony, and

August, whose deeds (likewise those

of Alexander of Macedon) Bonaparte

updates while stepping, after so many

centuries, in Egyptian territory.

Napoleon would not discard another

strong appeal: the one of updating the

entrances of the great Roman generals

who were bringing their booties and

prisoners of war and paraded under

the so-called triumphal arches. In that

way, for a moment Paris was dressed

likewise Rome, and Napoleon, likewise

Caesar. Furthermore, the most primary

reference to the origins of the triumphal

arches (the ancient Roman Empire) was

ﬁtting them perfectly as a support for

the neoclassical style then in vogue:

Napoleon admired the motif of the trium

phal arch, and during his regime the Arch of

the Carrousel (…) and especially the colos

sal Triumphal Arch of the Star served as a

reminder that neoclassicism had divorced the

Republic and has married the Empire.

Therefore, besides the admiration by

its shapes and by the temporal compe

tition (identiﬁcation), the arches were

exteriorizing an aspect of the political

use of the arts, accentuating the rela

tionship between the neoclassicism and

the Napoleonic Empire.

Inside the scenic uses of the arches,

appropriated by the Napoleonic cer

emonial, they were shown both in

their provisory shape (being built,

many times, hurriedly for some com

memoration), as marking the city in a

permanent fashion in stone, marble, or

bronze, being symbolic landmarks of

the Parisian topography. Conjugated to

the “Entries”, parades that happened

during solemn visitations of the sover

eign to some locality, when he would

be returning from a well-succeeded

military campaign or when some im

portant ﬁgure would arrive, the arches

accentuated the triumphal aspect of

these welcome ceremonies.

We can cite as an example the re

turn of the victorious Second Italian

Campaign in 1800, from Milan to Paris,

when several of the little cities along

the way raised triumphal arches for the

passage of Bonaparte and his troops.

In 1809, some weeks after the Austrian

defeat in Wagram and the imposition of

the peace to Austria, the French army

entered Paris passing by a kind of vault

formed by many triumphal arches.

The

great pomp, which honored so much

the troops that were returning and the

one who commanded them, had be

numbed the crowd so much that, per

haps, they did not noticed the decrease

of one forth of its effective. Hautecoeur

also highlights that after the victorious

Battle of Austerlitz, in December, 1805,

Napoleon would had passed through

triumphal arches in Strasburg and La

Villette; ordering, some months later,

the construction of two monumental

and permanent arches in Paris, which

would become “The Star” and “The

Carrousel” ones.

The stylistic reference to the Tra-

jan Column in the construction of the

Vendôme Column [Fig. 2] also brings the

recourse to the mimetic politics between

Napoleon and the Roman emperor in

RHAA 6 219

Traduções/Translations

homage to who the Romans built the

column. This famous column, which is

presently in the Place Vend

ôme in Paris,

would be the pedestal that would elevate

to the heights the image of Napoleon,

right in the centre of Paris, which would

give to him a sort of omnipresence. The

Peace statue that should crown its top,

according to the original project, ended

with a bronze statue of Napoleon rep

resented with the garbs of a Roman em

peror, crowned by laurels, and having

in one hand a sword and in the other

a globe (the emblem of the universal

monarchy) topped by a winged feminine

ﬁgure.

The strong visual recourse that

rolled up and exploded in its top by the

presence of the Caesarean ﬁgure of the

emperor made of it the stronghold par

excellence of the Napoleonic power. This

explains why, somehow, from the ﬁrst

entry of the allies in Paris (March 30,

1814), the monument would come to

suffer a series of violent attacks by the

anti-Bonapartist, which would continue

throughout the nineteenth-century.

Then, in April 8, 1814, the French

would dismiss for the ﬁrst time the co

lossal Napoleon of his bronze throne,

as his ﬂesh and bone equivalent who

founded himself in the need to abdicate,

being this one of the greatest examples

of the purge that the Napoleonic sym

bols would suffer with the return of the

Bourbons. The realistic ﬂag and Louis

XVIII, who would leave the stage rap

idly during the “One Hundred Days”,

and would return with the beginning

of the deﬁnitive exile of the emperor in

Saint Helen, replaced these Napoleonic

symbols. In 1832, however, Napoleon’

statue would come back to occupy the

top of the Vendôme, which would loose

in that way the white ﬂag of the realists,

but not wearing his Caesar costume. It

was all about a new statue in which it

would represent the former emperor in

the same manner as the canonical image

with which we are accustomed: stand

ing, dressed with a sober and long coat,

using his little and characteristic hat and

with his hand inside the corset, a pose

that would remain as his trademark.

The Caesarean statue of Napoleon

would only come back to occupy the

column under the reign of Napoleon

III (1852-1870), his nephew. The latter

would order the substitution, in 1863,

of the little pompous “little Corporal”

again by the Caesar. In that way, the old

coat would be undressed to bring back

the Roman suits and the little hat would

give place to the laurels. However, in

May 16, 1871, during the Paris Com

mune, the statue would suffer another

fallback. Only in 1875, the French would

restore the monument according to its

original details, thanks to new moldings

done according to the conservation of

the original moulds.

Another example of this mimetic

politics can be found in the painting

Napoleon Crossing the Alps at the St. Bernard

Pass [ﬁg. 3]. Painted between 1800 and

1801, it was the result of David’s artistic

ability, allied to the achievement of Na

poleon conducting the French troops to

cross the Alps during the Second Italian

Campaign (1800). This painting would

be under the ofﬁcial iconography point

of view the representation that would

mark Napoleon’s post-Brumaire phase.

The Austrian had already concen

trated almost all their forces in the di

rection of Geneva. Switzerland chose

to let the St. Bernard Pass unprotected

while they judged that it would be im

possible to the French to use the most

difﬁcult pass way. Nevertheless, Bona

parte had made the choice for exactly

that way. Between May 15 and 20, 1800,

he and his troops, not without great suf

fering, would cross the “Great St. Ber

nard” Pass, updating, after centuries,

Hannibal’s deed:

Bonaparte’s soldiers knew, while crossing

the Alps, the snowy tops’ extreme cold, the open

abyss in front of their feet, the avalanches, the

snowstorms, the bivouacs in cold lands, as much

(…) as Hannibal’s soldiers had (…) knew

them 2000 years before. With the difference

that it were not the elephants, as in Hannibal’s

time, who felt into the abyss, but cannons, guns,

cars and provisions.

Therefore, what would be just an

audacious and well-succeeded military

maneuver in Bonaparte’s career ended

up, being crowned by the souvenir of

the great Carthaginian general, in an ex

cellent opportunity for the identiﬁcation

and creation of afﬁnities between him

and Hannibal.

In order to portray the modern Han

nibal, David accepted the suggestion

of the pose given by the First-Consul

himself, and he used in his composition

one of the characteristic aesthetic-sym

bolic elements of the Anci

èn Régime: the

equestrian statue. Against a scenario of

eternal snow and imminent storms, be

tween the cliff wall and the abyss edge,

David represented Bonaparte mounting

a restless stallion that neigh nervously

standing over his hind hand. David

explores the recourse to mimetic poli

tics curiously in the sequence of names

sculpted in capital letters in the rocks

that come from the ground – BONA

PARTE, HANNIBAL, CHARLES

MAGNUS – a kind of heroic genealogy

of the crossing of the Alps in which Bo

naparte places himself as the last heir.

That identiﬁcation with the ancient

military leaders was not restricted to

the universe of painting. Napoleon

commissioned, in 1806, a table called

“the table of the great leaders of Antiq

uity”. In it, we can see the proﬁle of Al

exander, The Great, in the center, sur

rounded by twelve heads of ancient he

roes painted likewise cameos, in which

a low relief with images that narrate the

key events in the life of each of those

heroes complements them.

There, for

instance, we can see Hannibal crossing

the Alps and Perikles rebuilding Ath

ens, in a clear metaphorical allusion to

the deeds of Napoleon himself; he has

crossed the St Bernard Mount during

the Italian Campaign and was promot

ing the monumentalizing of Paris.

Bonaparte would also retake one of

the most marking episodes of the Ro

220 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

man Republic history in a declaration

that he wrote and which he published in

the Moniteur, in 1799. In it he would give

his version – the one that would become

the ofﬁcial – for the facts that happened

in the Brumaire 18 and 19 (November

9 and 10, 1799), when the actions that

would culminate in the famous coup

d’

État that would place him deﬁnitively

in the power took place. This is interest

ing to observe that Bonaparte created,

to his contemporaries and to posterity,

a repertoire of images that transformed

some slippage of actions in heroic mo

ments, carried with dramatic tonalities,

turned to his exaltation, and taking him

away from the edge of the events.

Bonaparte forges one of the high

est dramatic points of his legend and

of the theatrical nature of his power

when he evokes in his declaration,

for

instance, the episode of the resistance

of the Cinq-Cents’ assembly occurred

in the Brumaire 19. This was the apex

of the mise-en-sc

ène of the Brumaire and

the moment of biggest threat for the

accomplishment of his plans. Napoleon

fancy himself at the same time of great

victim and of great hero, when, in real

ity, Lucian, his brother, then president

of the Cinq Cents, was the men of action.

When Lucian perceived the discontent

ment of the deputies with the ineffective

harangues of Napoleon (who had en

tered in the room without having been

invited), he urgently yelled to the troops

that were outside the assembly, with the

allegation that some deputies attempted

against the life of his general. However,

Bonaparte will throw to forgetfulness,

in his version to the Moniteur, and with

out even having cited his name, the

decisive and very important interven

tion of Lucian, which will result in the

deﬁnitive dissolution of the Directory.

Meanwhile Bonaparte would declare:

“vingt assassins se précipitent sur moi

et cherchent ma poitrine, les grenadiers

du Corps législatif que j’avais laissé à la

porte de la salle, accourent, se mettent

entre les assassins et moi

”.

The prox-

imity between the scenes of Julius Cae

sar’s murder in the Roman Senate by the

stabs of daggers that will become, not

coincidently, the prelude for the Roman

Empire, is here big with the “Brumaire

18”, which will become the prelude for

the Napoleonic Empire.

Bonaparte “dressed” himself up

with somebody else’s qualities, “exca

vating” them from the collective im

aginary of the epoch with his military

deeds and his political moves. In this

way, he expressed his admiration for

such famous and legendary ﬁgures as

well as his expectation that his subordi

nates would fall into the same identiﬁca

tion, while he charged his own heroic

capital with more symbolic value. We

can note, therefore, how Bonaparte re

activated and linked a series of epopee

took from Antiquity to the construc

tion of his own epopee, which provided

that he could introduce himself to the

public under several disguises, directing

the models of French identity and his

relationship with the past.

Concluding Remarks

The turn from the eighteenth to the

nineteenth-century was a fundamental

moment for the framing of the then

nascent French Archaeology. We can

ﬁnd its conception inserted in a new

social context, guided, as highlights

Olivier,

by the Enlightenment and by

the invention of the Nation, thought as

a collectivity that shares a common his

torical origin. When we focus in the ﬁg

ure of Napoleon, we realize how much

important he was in this process. By one

side, he encouraged the production of

knowledge about the ancient past by

supporting the researches in the Institut

and turning public some kinds of inter

pretations about this past in arts and the

architecture. By the other, he recovered

important events from Antiquity, build

ing his own public ﬁgure from the civic

virtues of the great leaders of the past.

The relationship between the army

and the members of the Institut express

that peculiar situation of Napoleon’s

policy in establishing links with the

past in order to shape the identities of

the present. In this context, archaeology

mediates these relationships; it excavates

the material culture of the ancient peo

ples and reinterprets it in the Napo

leonic context, producing the basis for

the idea of the modern France.

In this sense, the Napoleonic power

reallocated the Greeks, Romans, Celts,

Egyptians, inside the French quotidian,

and their main symbols are reviewed,

producing specific and many times

homogeneous images of the past of

these populations, seeking to deﬁne the

French national identity and justify its

dominion over other populations. The

political uses of the ancient past have

deﬁned the differences and stated iden

tities: WE (the French) in contrast to

THEM (the populations from the terri

tories conquered by Napoleonic France).

Therefore, both by the aesthetic-mate

rial, as by the politico-ideological, point

of view, the age of Napoleon was im

mersing in the ancient past, which the

recent discoveries in archaeological sites

were disclosing. This peculiar situation,

far from being simplistic, indicate the

intricate relationship that exist between

the ancient past and modern politics and,

beyond that, expresses the use of the

French Archaeology in a well deﬁned

and fundamental aims of the symbolic

construction of the Napoleonic power

and of the French identity.

Acknowledgements

We would like to thanks the fol

lowing colleagues for the dialogue

along these years: Marina Cavicchioli,

Lourdes Feitosa, Modesto Florenzano,

Pedro Paulo Abreu Funari and Glayd

son José da Silva. The ideas expressed

here are our own and we are therefore

solely responsible.

English version: Marcelo Hilsdorf Marotta

RHAA 6 221

Traduções/Translations

BERNAL, M. Black Athena. The afroasiatic roots

of Classical Civilization. New Brunswick: Rut

gers, 1987.

On this issue and on the relationship with

the study of material culture, cf., for instance,

DÍAZ-ANDREU, M. “Nacionalismo y Ar

queologia: Del viejo al nuevo mundo”. Anais

da I Reuni

ão Internacional de Teoria Arqueológica na

érica do Sul – Revista do Museu de Arqueologia

e Etnologia, supl. 3: 161-180, 1999; DÍAZ-AN

DREU, M. “Nacionalismo y Arqueologia: el

contexto político de nuestra disciplina”. Revista

do Museu de Arqueologia e Etnologia, n. 11: 3-20,

2001; FUNARI, P.P.A. “Book Review – Ar

chaeology under ﬁre, Nationalism, Politics

and Heritage in the Eastern Mediterranean

and Middle East”. World Archaeological Bulle

tin, 13: 82-88, 2001; GARRAFFONI, R.S.

e FUNARI, P.P.A. História Antiga na sala de

aula. Campinas: IFCH/UNICAMP, 2004;

HINGLEY, R. “Images of Rome:

Percep-

tions of Ancient Rome in Europe and the

United States in the Modern Age”. Journal of

Roman Archaeolog y Supplementary Series 44,

2001; HINGLEY, R. “Imagens de Roma: uma

perspectiva inglesa”. In: Funari, P.P.A. (org).

Repensando o mundo antigo – Jean-Pierre Vernant

e Richard Hingley. Translated by Renata Senna

Garraffoni and revised by Pedro Paulo A.

Funari. Campinas: IFCH/UNICAMP, 2002,

Textos Didáticos, n. 47; MESKELL, L. (ed.)

Archaeolog y under ﬁre - Nationalism, Politics and

Heritage in the Eastern Mediterranean and Middle

East. Londres: Routledge, 1998; OLIVIER,

L. “As origens da Arqueologia francesa”. In:

FUNARI, P.P.A. (org.). Repensando o Mundo

Antigo. Campinas: IFCH/UNICAMP, 2005

(Coleção Textos Didáticos, n. 49) e SILVA, G.

J. da. O aparato ideol

ógico sobre o estudo da Anti-

guidade na Fran

ça de 1940-1944, ou a construção do

mundo gaul

ês antigo, romano e galo-romano sob Vichy

por meio da cultura material e da tradição textual

Campinas, 2005. PhD Thesis delivered at the

Department of History-UNICAMP.

On this issue, cf. DIETLER, M. “Our ances-

tors the Gauls: Archaeology, Ethnic nationa

lism, and the manipulation of celtic identity

in modern Europe”. American Anthropologist 96,

1994, (3): 584-605.

SAID, E.W. Orientalismo – Oriente como invenção do

Ocidente

. São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2001.

Pierre Bourdieu deﬁnes the “symbolic power”

as the “power upon the particular use of signs

and, in this way, upon the vision and the mea

ning of the natural and social world”, “which

exists because the one that is subjected to it be-

lieves that it exists” (BOURDIEU, P. O Poder

Simb

ólico. Lisboa: Difel, 1989, p. 72 e 188).

The Institut National de France was founded in

October 25, 1795, in the period of the Di

rectory, under the command of the Public

Instruction Ministry, as a substitute for the

academies of the Anci

èn Régime, conceived as

mere “adornments” for the monarchy. The

Institut should collaborate with the civic well-

being and order the responsibility of the state

funding to the arts, sciences, and letters. It had

three divisions: science (60 members); moral

and political science (36 members); and lite

rature and ﬁne arts (48 members).

BOÎME, A. Art in an Age of Bonapartism: 1800-

1815. Chicago/Londres: The University of

Chicago Press, 1993.

GILLISPIE, C. C. “Science and Technology”.

In: CRAWLEY, C.W. (ed.). The New Cambridge

Modern History: war and peace in an age of

upheaval- 1793-1830 (vol. IX). London/New

York/Melbourne: Cambridge University Press,

1975, p. 126.

Dominique Vivant-Denon would be the great

coordinator of the artistic propaganda of the

Napoleonic regime, being with Jacques-Louis

David, Napoleon’s ofﬁcial painter, the main

pillars of the Fine Arts under the French First

Empire. It is worth remembering that both

were already acting artistically during the go

vernment of Louis XVI. David had consecra

ted himself deﬁnitively in 1785 as the head of

the neoclassical movement. Denon had ser-

ved in Naples under Louis XVI as a diplomat,

besides acting as a drawer and engraver. He

was nominated, in 1802, as “Directeur-Géné

ral des Musées” in France and would be the

founder of the Louvre. Gaspard Monge would

become known as the creator of the descriptive

geometry; Auguste de Saint-Hilaire, traveler-

naturalist, known among us for his writings

based in his visit to Brazil, and Jean-François

Champollion, the “father of Egyptology”, who

deciphered the “Rosetta Stone”.

Description de l’Egypte, ou Recueil des observations

et des recherches qui ont

été faites en Egypte pendant

l’exp

édition de l’armée française, publié par les ordres

de sa majesté l’empereur Napol

éon le Grand, 23 volu-

mes published in Paris from 1809 to 1828.

CAVICCHIOLI, M. A representação da sexuali-

dade na Iconograﬁa Pompeiana. Campinas, 2004.

M.A. Dissertation delivered at the Depart-

ment of History-UNICAMP. See, in special,

the page 17.

We highlight here that, beyond the symbolic

uses, Napoleon also made practical uses of

Antiquity. In his march through the Italian

Peninsula, he followed the steps of the Car

thaginian general, Hannibal. Napoleon had a

special admiration for this general (as we shall

see in what follows), considered since Anti

quity as a great military strategist. On these

issues, cf. PEDDIE, J. Hannibal’s war. Great

Britain: Sutton Publishing, 2005.

Cf. DIETLER, M. “Our ancestors the Gauls:

Archaeology, Ethnic nationalism, and the

manipulation of celtic identity in modern Eu-

rope”, op. cit.

HAUTECOEUR, L. L’Art sous la Révolution et

L’Empire en France. Paris: Guy Le Prat, 1953, p. 43.

An interesting example of this use of Anti-

quity, before Napoleon, is in the effort of the

artists in the service of Louis XIV to trans

form the city of Paris in a new Rome. This

“Romanization” attempt had led him conso

lidate his power by afﬁrming and legitimating

himself as the presumptive heir of that Anti

quity. It was an ideological apparatus created

by the Sun-King that, by promoting the iden

tiﬁcation of his government with the Imperium

Romanum (also visible in the promotion of a

mimetic politics, which would make him be

Louis August, before Louis, the Great), sought

to duly impose itself over a feudal plurality still

extant. If he needed to be Louis August, by

reference to a mythical time, his capital-city

should be constituted equally in a mythical

space that associated the present to the past,

helping him in the crystallization of his mys

tiﬁed portrait. The Roman looks that were

taking place in the arts, in the literature, and

in the music, also presenting itself in the the

aters and in the festivities of the court, come,

in this way, to mark the capital of France

through the construction or reformation of

churches, statues, palaces and arches that were

the testimonies of the triumphs of “Louis-

August”. Therefore, through several urban

and architectonic reformulations, the king

transferred symbolically the Ancient Rome to

Paris, making of his capital-city a symptom of

the transfusion of Romanity into the body of

the French monarchy to give it a new political

vigour. Cf. APOSTOLID

ÈS, J-M. O Rei Má-

quina: espetáculo e política no tempo de Luís

XIV. Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio/Distrito

Federal: EDUNB, 1993, p. 78-79.

Nominated, in 1804, Napoleon’s “Premier

Peintre”, David would be heightened deﬁni

tively to a position of supreme prominence

over the rest of the French artists in the

Napoleonic France. We can say that, while

Napoleon’s dictatorship advanced in France,

David’s “dictatorship” also was advancing in

the ﬁeld of French painting.

Apud CHATEAUBRIAND, Mémoires d’Outre

Tombe, Paris: Flammarion, 1948, p. 337.

LEFÈBVRE, G. Napoléon. Paris: PUF, 1953,

p. 135.

RUDÉ, G. A Europa Revolucionária: 1783-1815.

Lisboa: Editorial Presença, s/d, p. 197.

Three “provisory consuls” formed the ﬁrst

executive commission that started the Con

sulate: Napoleon Bonaparte, Sièyes and Roger

Ducos. Ducos has been one of the Directors;

nevertheless, he worked together with the

group of conspirators. With the establish

ment of the new constitution, called “of the

VIII year”, the provisory government formed

by Bonaparte, Sièyes, and Ducos, would be

222 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

substituted by an effective executive, formed

by three “decennial consuls” that should be

nominated by the Senate (Legislative). The

ﬁrst three governantes, designated by the

Constitution, were Cambacères, Lebrun and...

Bonaparte (who was also the “First Consul”)!

This shows how Bonaparte was the real ow

ner of the power, while the other two consuls

played only a counseling role.

TARLÉ, E. Napoleão. Lisboa: Editorial Pre-

sença,

1973, p. 142.

We based ourselves, for the data referring to the

election of the eagle as the symbol of the Na

poleonic Empire, in the considerations of Alain

Boureau, L’Aigle: chronique politique d’un em

blème, Paris: Cerf, 1985. This work also makes

interesting analyses about the adoption of that

symbol by the USA and the Nazi Germany.

“Every velocity, in the measure that it is linked

to the sphere of power, can be translated

into a persecuting or catching velocity”

(CANETTI, E. Massa e Poder. São Paulo:

Companhia das Letras, 1995, p. 283, bold

caps by the author).

On that issue, cf. APOSTOLIDÈS, op. cit.

BOÎME, op.cit., p. 6.

Idem, Ibidem, p. 13.

On that issue cf. DAYOT, A. Napoléon raconté

par l’image d’apr

ès les sculpteurs, les graveurs et les

peintres. Paris: Hachette, 1895.

Idem, Ibidem, p. 252.

Cf. HAUTECOEUR, op.cit., p. 23.

Las Cases afﬁrms, somewhere in his Mémorial,

that it was initially all about placing in the

top of the column a statue of Charles Magnus

(what seems more dislocated from the initial

purpose of the column, than the placing of

Napoleon’s statue). Anyway, if he thought

that, we can interpret its possible substitu

tion by the statue of Napoleon as a sign of

afﬁrmation of his image, in the measure that

he feels comfortable to discard the mediation

of other political ﬁgures that he used, until

then, in favor of the construction of his image,

through a mimetic politics. (LAS CASES, E.

Le M

émorial de Sainte-Hélène. Paris: Flammarion,

(1951) [1823], p. 256).

TARLÉ, op. cit., p. 100.

BOÎME, op.cit., p. 19-20.

For the citations, we used the transcription

of the proclamation made by BERTAUD,

J. P. 1799: Bonaparte prend le pouvoir – La

République meurt-elle assassinée? Bruxelas:

Complexe, 1987, p. 166-168.

Idem, Ibidem.

Cf. OLIVIER, op. cit.

L’Épitomé d’anatomie de Félix-

Émile Taunay, 1837

Elaine Dias

Docteur en Histoire (Unicamp)

Boursier Fapesp en Post-doctorat (FAU/USP)

Introduction

Félix Émile Taunay a dédié une

grande partie de sa vie à l’Académie

Impériale des Beaux-Arts de Rio de

Janeiro. Peintre de paysage et ﬁls de

Nicolas-Antoine Taunay, lui aussi pein

tre paysagiste, Félix-Émile occupe, dès

1824, la chaire de peinture de paysage

que son père avait quittée en 1821, lors

de sa rentrée à Paris. En cette année de

1824, une longue trajectoire dédiée à

l’enseignement fait ses débuts. Après la

mort du directeur portuguais Henrique

José da Silva, en 1834, Taunay est élu le

nouveau directeur de l’Académie brési

lienne de Beaux-Arts, fonction qu’il oc

cupera 17 ans durant. Au cours de cette

longue période, il fut le responsable de

l’organisation d’un système d’enseigne

ment basé, en grande partie, sur des

modèles académiques français. Parmi

les mesures qu’il a implantées pendant

les années dédiées à cette institution

d’enseignement, se trouve tout un sys

tème de perfectionnement d’études de

dessin, dont le cours au modèle vivant

les classes d’anatomie

, l’organisation et

la traduction d’ouvrages didactiques.

Parmi ces mesures, celle qui nous in

téresse le plus promptement est l’œuvre

ítome de anatomia relativa às bellas artes

seguido de hum comp

êndio de physiologia das

paix

ões e de algumas considerações geraes sobre

as proporções com as divis

ões do corpo humano;

offerecido aos alumnos da Imperial Academia

das Bellas Artes do Rio de Janeiro

. [Épitomé

d’anatomie relatif aux beaux-arts suivi d’un

compendium de la physiologie des passions et

de quelques consid

érations générales sur les pro-

portions avec les divisions du corps humain; à

l’intention des

élèves de l’Impériale Académie

de Beaux-Arts de Rio de Janeiro]

Il s’agit d’un compendium de théo

ries artistiques relatives à l’anatomie, or

ganisé et traduit

par Taunay

, publié en

1837. L’Épitomé était un complément

fondamental pour les cours au modèle

vivant et d’anatomie, implantés et dé

veloppés au cours de cette période. Il

était basé sur les principaux traités artis

tiques anatomiques utilisés à l’académie

française depuis le 17

siècle. Il n’était

composé que de textes se rapportant

aux ouvrages mentionnés et ne présen

tait pas d’images

La première partie concernait l’os-

téologie et la myologie. Les textes origi

naux furent extraits de l’ouvrage Abr

égé

d’anatomie, accommod

ée aux arts de peinture

et de sculpture, écrit par François Tortebat

et Roger de Piles, publié en 1668. La

deuxième concernait la thématique de

la physiologie des passions de Charles

Le Brun, présente dans L’Expression G

é-

nérale et Particulière, objet de sa Conférence

de 1668. La troisième partie venait de

la rubrique concernant les proportions

générales, écrite par Louis Millin, pour

son Dictionnaire des Beaux-Arts, publié en

1806. Taunay ajoute encore une petite

partie concernant la division du corps

humain, selon l’ouvrage de Gérard

Audran, intitulé Les proportions du corps

humain mesur

ées sur les plus belles ﬁgures de

l’Antiquit

é, publié en 1683. Ainsi, la pu-

blication de Taunay est composée des

principales théories artistiques ayant

rapport à l’anatomie utilisées à l’Aca

démie Royale de Peinture et Sculpture

au 17

siècle, la seule exception étant

une petite partie relative au 19

siècle,

extraite du dictionnaire de Millin, met

tant en évidence la question des pro

portions.

RHAA 6 223

Traduções/Translations

Le traité de Tortebat et de Piles

Le premier ouvrage qui compose

l’épitomé de Taunay est celui de Fran

çois Tortebat et Roger de Piles. Il

constitue aussi la partie principale et la

plus longue de la publication (31 pa

ges). François Tortebat, premier pein

tre de l’Académie Royale de Peinture et

Sculpture depuis sa fondation ofﬁcielle

par Louis XIV en 1663, compose son

Abr

égé d’Anatomie

en 1668

[Fig. 1], se

basant sur les planches du traité d’ana

tomie du belge Andrea Vesalius, De hu

mani corporis fabrica, de 1538, ainsi que

sur une autre œuvre du même auteur,

réalisée à partir de la première, intitulée

Andrea Vesalii Bruxellensis, schola medico

rum Patauina professoris, suorum de Humani

corporis fabrica librorum, publiée en 1543, à

partir de dessins réalisés par le Titien

Tortebat compose le premier traité ana

tomique entièrement tourné vers l’édu

cation artistique publié en France:

& c’est ce qui m’a fait entreprendre ce petit

Abrégé d’Anatomie, que j’ai tiré des meilleurs

Auteurs que j’ai lus, avec tout le soin que ma

curiosité m’a fait prendre. Je l’ai accomodé à

la Peinture de telle forte que l’on m’a voulu

persuader qu’il fera trouvé non seulement facile

& agréable, mais même très utile à tous ceux

qui ont quelque ambition de se rendre habiles

dans le Dessein. Au reste cet Abrégé sera si

succinct, qu’on n’aura pas lieu de se plaindre

du trop grand embarras de choses différentes:

& l’oeconomie que j’y garde est même toute

nouvelle; car ayant reconnu que ceux qui ont

écrire pour la Médecine, ont parlé d’une inﬁnité

des choses inutiles aux Peintres, j’ai voulu que

tout d’un coup l’on vît le nom, l’ofﬁce & la

situation des muscles d’un côté, & la ﬁgure

démonstrative de l’autre. J’ai cru aussi qu’il

étoit nécessaire, après les muscles, de faire voir

le squélette, étant le soutien des autres parties,

& le principal bâtiment du corps humain ...

ensorte que, parmi cette grande forêt de difﬁcul

tés, on a peine à reconnoître ce qui es nécessaire,

d’avec ce qui n’est pas: & c’est à quoi j’ai cru

avoir apporté quelque remede, en vou donnant

ce petit Abrégé

Tortebat se soucie de la réalisation

d’une œuvre libre de conceptions ana-

tomiques considérées inutiles au do

maine des arts plastiques, d’où la né

cessité d’extraire de l’œuvre de Vesalius

ce qui lui paraît le plus approprié aux

artistes. L’ouvrage est constitué de trois

planches pour le squelette [Fig. 2] et

de sept autres pour «l’écorché» [Fig.

3]. La partie dédiée à la myologie est

sous-divisée en trois colonnes, où l’on

trouve leurs noms respectifs, leurs ori

gines et insertions, ainsi que leur fonc

tion. Dans l’édition brésilienne, Taunay

suit le même schéma de Tortebat, en

respectant la sous-division des textes

et leurs contenus concernant la myo

logie. Pour la partie de l’osteologie, il

supprime la petite explication donnée

par Tortebat à propos des os de la tête,

remettant, en note, à la traduction de

l’œuvre de Charles Le Brun, contenue

dans le même épitomé, pour les expli

cations relatives à cette partie du corps

humain. L’œuvre de Tortebat fait cer

taines références aux os de la tête, mais

ne les traite pas de manière individuelle

sur ses planches. C’est la raison pour la

quelle Taunay supprime complètement

ces références et remet aux leçons de

Le Brun, ne faisant qu’un résumé des

principales compositions osseuses du

tronc, des extrémités inférieures et pos

térieures selon le traité de Tortebat.

L’ouvrage du 17

siècle connaît un

grand succès en Europe, nonobstant les

autres traités sur le même thème parus

au cours des siècles suivants

. Ceci lui

garantit la parution de nouvelles édi

tions en 1733, 1760 et 1765. Il faut ce

pendant faire une remarque concernant

l’auteur du traité français. Le nom Roger

de Piles ne surgit qu’à partir de l’édition

de 1733, ce qui a semblé quelque peu

étrange, de la mesure où Tortebat est

l’auteur des planches mais pas des tex

tes, comme il l’indique lui-même à la

présentation de son ouvrage: «ce petit

abrégé d’anatomie qui m’est tombé entre

les mains». Personne ne connaît pour

tant la raison pour laquelle Tortebat ne

cite pas de Piles, ni même pourquoi le

nom de ce dernier n’apparaît que sur

l’édition postérieure et pas sur la pre

mière édition, celle de 1668. Il peut

s’agir d’un simple manque d’intérêt de

l’auteur ou de questions concernant les

discussions à propos de la prédomi

nance de la couleur ou de la ligne, à

l’ordre du jour à cette époque, en dépit

du fait que la parution de Dialogue sur

le coloris n’ait eu lieu qu’en 1673, et son

entrée effective comme académicien

ne se concrétise qu’en 1699, année où

il publie L’abr

égé de la vie des peintres. En

revanche, Piles lui-même déclare, quel

ques années plus tard, être l’auteur du

petit texte inclus dès la première édition,

voici ses mots: «J’en ai fait voir l’utilité

et la nécessité dans la Préface d’un petit

Abrégé que j’en ai fait, et que Monsieur

Tortebat a mis en lumière»

. Toutefois,

l’édition de 1765 inclut le nom d’un

autre auteur, Guichard-Joseph Du

verney (1648-1730), qui aurait écrit la

partie concernant l’ostéologie dans un

texte nommé Traité des os, publié dans

son ouvrage Œuvres anatomiques, paru en

1761, par la même maison d’édition qui

publie l’œuvre de Tortebat en 1765, chez

Jombert. Malgré le jeune âge de Duver

ney, qui en 1668 ne comptait que 20

ans, certains historiens tels que Duval

considèrent l’hypothèse selon laquelle

l’œuvre de ce dernier ait vu le jour avant

même que celle de Tourtebat, d’où sa

possible référence. Les écrits de Duver

ney n’ont été réunis que quelques années

après sa mort, précisément en 1761, par

cette même maison d’édition, qui avait

inclus la note concernant son œuvre à

la ﬁn du traité de Tortebat. Rien ne per

met pourtant d’afﬁrmer que Tortebat

s’est effectivement basé sur l’œuvre de

Duverney dans la section d’ostéologie.

Duval remarque qu’il n’y a pas, dans

le texte de Duverny, certaines informa

tions concernant la forme des os et leurs

fonctions. En même temps, Duval met

en évidence les impressions relatives aux

os dans l’œuvre de Tortebat:

Ces explications sont d’une très grande exac

titude; mais, malheureusement, lorsque l’auteur

veut, dans de rares occasion il est vrai, expliquer

224 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

aient encore au XVIIe siècle le langage, avient

pris l’habitude de qualiﬁer le logos de “partie

rationnelle de l’âme”, dont l’appétit (la forme

de désir) était nommé “intellectuel”. L’autre

partie, la “partie sensitive”, tout impulsive et

passionnelle, faisait chez Platon l’objet d’une

subdivision en thumos – le courage, l’ardeur à

s’enﬂammer pour les causes nobles (justice, piété,

vertu, ordre public) – et épithumia, l´appétit

grossier, tourné vers la nutrition, la conservation

et la procréation, et à qui il pouvait arriver de

se révolter contre le logos, se souillant alors de

luxure provocatrice et perverse. Les scolastiques

traduisaient thumos par “appétit irascible” et

épithumia par “appétit concupiscible”

La Théorie de Platon apparaîtra

dans les premiers passages de Cureau,

de Descartes et, par conséquent, dans

l’œuvre de Le Brun, lorsqu’il décrit les

dénommées passions simples comme

étant celles advenues de «l’appétit con

cupiscible», comme l’amour, la haine,

le désir, la joie et la tristesse, et les pas

sions composées, provenantes de «l’ap

pétit irascible», c’est-à-dire, la crainte,

l’audace, l’espoir, le désespoir, la colère

et l’épouvante. Il y a là aussi une claire

référence à l’œuvre de Senault, De l

´usage

des passions, éditée en 1641, dans laquelle

sont abordés les concepts des passions

simples et composées, également em

pruntés par Le Brun dans son œuvre.

Il convient à Le Brun de ne citer aucun

de ces auteurs comme sources de ses

principales théories sur les passions de

l’âme. Il en dégage ce dont il a besoin

dans le domaine artistique, sans toucher

aux questions philosophiques qui bou

leversaient grandement la politique et la

religion à l’époque de Louis XIV, qui

prônait l’exclusion du philosophe et de

ses théories. Il faut rappeler que Des

cartes est décédé en 1650 à Stockholm,

après avoir vécu pendant presque 30 ans

en Hollande, dans la crainte des persé

cutions de l’État de Louis XIV, qui ne

corrobore ses écrits dans l’enseignement

français qu’à partir de 1675. Il n’était

donc pas nécessaire, pour Le Brun, de

rentrer dans les discussions à propos des

théories et de leurs différences. Julien

Il a aussi été reconnu comme étant le

meilleur en éducation artistique, ayant

été autrefois indiqué par Anton Raphael

Mengs à ses élèves. Pour ce faire, l’œu

vre serait traduite en espagnol

. Elle a

aussi été traduite en allemand en 1706

et diverses éditions en anglais furent

réalisées jusqu’en 1842

Le traité traduit et adopté par Taunay

a été utilisé pendant de longues années,

nonobstant les critiques qu’il recevait

parfois de la part des professeurs, qui

en demandaient sa mise à jour ou l’ad

dition d’autres thèmes.

La «Physiologie des passions», de

Le Brun

La «Physiologia das paix

ões por Carlos Le-

brun», ainsi désignée par Taunay, consti

tue la deuxième partie de son épitomé.

Il concerne les expressions humaines

provenantes de la passion de l’âme.

Comme le dit le propre ouvrage, la tra

duction provient des écrits de Charles

Le Brun contenus dans sa Conf

érence sur

l’expression g

énérale et particulière, de 1668.

La conférence faisait également partie

d’un programme didactique non moins

intellectuel promu par le directeur de

l’Académie Royale de Peinture et Sculp

ture, Charles Le Brun, responsable de

l’organisation didactique de l’institution

récemment fondée sous le domaine de

Louis XIV. Il s’agissait donc d’une ex

pression en plus du pouvoir royal, qui

s’étendait à une série d’autres institu

tions aussi créées sous l’investiture du

ministre Colbert, ayant toutes pour ob

jectif direct la célébration de l’État du

Roi Soleil. Basé sur le Traité des Passions

de René Descartes, élaboré en 1649,

aussi bien que sur l’œuvre Charact

ères

des passions, du médecin Cureau de la

Chambre, publiée en 1640, le traité de

Le Brun remonte aussi, tout comme les

deux premiers cités, au quatrième livre

de la Republique de Platon, où la théorie

des parties de l’âme est formulée:

« Les traducteurs médiévaux de Platon,

dont les collèges jésuites et les universités perpétu

les causes, la raison d’être de certaines dispo

sitions, il commet des erreurs d’appréciation; il

ne faut pas cependant lui en garder rancune,

car de nos jours encore nous les avons entendu

répéter. Par exemple, il dit: “Le Fémur est

voûté par devant, et enfoncé par derrière, pour

la commodité de s’asseoir”; et plus loin: “Entre

l’Os de la Cuisse et la Jambe, il se voit un Os

rond appelé la Rotule” (nous n’insisterons pas

sur cette indication d’os rond appliqué à un os

de forme triangulaire) “qui sert à empescher que

les Jambes ne ﬂéchissent en devant

En comparant les œuvres de Torte

bat et Duverney, Duval ne conﬁrme pas

les références données par la maison

Jombert, dans la mesure où le traité de

Duverney ne se ressemble pas à celui de

Tortebat et ne contient pas les erreurs

retrouvées sur ce dernier. Dans le cas

de la traduction brésilienne, Taunay

connaît les imprécisions contenues dans

le traité, puisqu’il en fait part lui-même

à la préface de son œuvre. Malgré cette

remarque, il reproduit quand même

dans sa traduction les imprécisions de

Tortebat ou de de Piles.

L’épitomé d’Ostéologie et Myologie a été

composé par De Piles à l’aube du siècle dernier,

et publié à l’usage des artistes sous le nom de

Tortebat. Quels qu’aient été les progrès faits en

anatomie depuis ces temps et les modiﬁcations

dans son vocabulaire, l’estime portée à cette

œuvre élémentaire continue la même, dans la

mesure où elle ne concerne surtout que les appa

rences extérieures. Quand l’on s’en rend compte,

les petites défaillances et même les petites erreurs

dans la nature intime des parties et les petites

différences de nom ne sont pas très nuisibles. Il

sufﬁt que le tout se maintienne intelligible

Malgré ses imperfections, Taunay

connaît l’usage continu que l’on fait de

son œuvre depuis sa première édition

jusqu’à l’actualité dans les académies

européennes

. Nous savons que le

même ouvrage a été utilisé non seule

ment en France, mais aussi à l’Acade

mia de Bellas Artes de San Fernando, à

l’occasion où son directeur, Francisco J.

Ramos a demandé, en 1803, que l’œu

vre de Tortebat soit incorporée à la mé

thode de l’enseignement anatomique.

RHAA 6 225

Traduções/Translations

Philippe souligne dans la «Présentation»

de l’œuvre de Le Brun rééditée en 1994

cette question, advenue du propre com

mentaire de Le Brun dans son œuvre:

“il y a tant de personnes savantes qui

ont traité des passions, que l’on n’en peut

dire que ce qu’ils en ont déjà écrit”

. Le

Brun ne se montre pas très clair par

rapport à la référence à Descartes. En

revanche, comme le souligne Philippe,

son allusion est très claire:

Mais le contexte est ici important: nous

sommes dans une académie de Louis XIV

– et l’État, parlant par la bouche de Le Brun,

conﬁsque la vérité et n’a pas à se soucier de faire

des citations. Cette impersonnalité d’État, cet

art anti-subjectif qui résout tout en méthode,

incline Le Brun à supprimer pour ainsi dire

l’auteur de la doctrine dont il est l’inventeur.

La référence à Cureau de la Chambre

est cependant la bienvenue, une fois que

le médecin était protégé par l’État de

Louis XIV et l’un des protecteurs de

l’académie dirigée par Le Brun, quoique

ce dernier ne souligne pas sa participa

tion effective dans sa conférence. Quoi

qu’il en soit, l’idée suscitée par l’union

entre la philisophie, la médecine et l’art

devient attrayante, dans la mesure où

l’art devenait parfait dans l’élaboration

d’un traité sur les passions de l’âme

dédié aux beaux-arts, qui en dégageait

les propos qui lui convenaient. On of

frait aux peintres le point de départ de

leur travail, c’est-à-dire l’expression de

l’âme, qui concentrée dans les mouve

ments du visage, devenait le moteur des

autres parties du corps, correspondant

pleinement au caractère systématique de

l’enseignement proposé par Le Brun en

tant que directeur de l’Académie Royale

de Peinture et Sculpture.

L’expression, à mon avis, est une naïve et

naturelle ressemblance des choses que l’on a à

représenter: elle est nécessaire, et entre dans toutes

les parties de la peinture, et un tableau ne saurait

être parfait sans l’expression; c’est elle qui mar

que les véritables caractères de chaque chose; c’est

par elle que l’on distingue la nature des corps,

que les ﬁgures semblent avoir du mouvement, et

que tout ce qui est feint paraît être vrai.

L’on enseignait (ou imposait) au

peintre ce qu’il devait peindre, ce qu’il

devait composer comme représentation

picturale de l’État de Louis XIV. De

cette manière, les dessins faits par Le

Brun et les textes sur les passions con

tenus dans sa Conf

érence s’associaient à

un autre ouvrage édité aussi dans cette

même année de 1668, celle de Tortebat,

constituant les bases fondamentales à

Taunay pour la construction de sa mé

thodologie d’enseignement.

Le texte de Taunay à propos des

passions présente trois parties: l’os

téologie de la tête (en deux pages), «la

myologie de la tête» (en deux pages) et

«la physiologie des passions – mouve

ments des muscles dans les passions de

l’âme» (en huit pages), ainsi évoqués.

Taunay ne dit pas clairement sur quelle

édition il a basé sa traduction ni de

quel ouvrage il a extrait la conception

des os et des muscles de la tête qui

introduisent le thème. Il est possible

que Taunay se soit basé sur l’ouvrage

de Vesalius, une fois qu’il le cite lors de

sa référence aux os du tronc par le biais

de la traduction de l’épitomé d’ostéolo

gie de Tortebat, étant donné que cette

citation n’existe pas dans cette partie

du texte de Tortebat.

Pour la traduction des passions, Tau

nay semble, cependant, alterner entre

celle éditée par Picart en 1698, considé

rée la plus ﬁdèle aux notes originales de

Le Brun, et celle éditée par Jean Audran

en 1727, dans laquelle il présente une

espèce de résumé des passions, se con

centrant sur les parties techniques de

chaque description présente dans la

Conf

érence, leur donnant la forme de

notes composées de petits textes im

primés auprès des planches gravées.

Les textes élaborés par Taunay sont très

similaires à ceux de cette dernière édi

tion, une fois qu’ils ont pratiquement

le même format, et sont accompagnés

de brèves explications:

La Tranquilité – Planche 1

Quand l’âme se trouve en parfaite sérénité,

les traits du visage se maintiennent dans leur

état naturel. Un aspect de satisfaction peut

alors exprimer cette situation tranquille.

L’hypothèse du rapprochement à

Audran est encore renforcée par la con

servation, à la Bibliothèque Nationale

de Rio de Janeiro, d’un exemplaire de

l’édition d’Audran de 1727, composé

seulement des planches, sans les textes

en forme de notes [Fig. 4]. Cependant,

Taunay y ajoute des parties qui ne sont

pas présentes dans cette publication de

1727, ce qui nous remet encore une fois

à l’hypothèse de l’utilisation de l’édition

de Picart. Ceci étant, il semble que Tau

nay ait eu recours à ces deux éditions

pour composer sa traduction.

Les différentes passions de l’âme exercent

une inﬂuence très marquée sur les muscles du vi

sage. Ceux-ci expérimenteront des changements

plus ou moins considérables selon l’intensité et

la violence de la passion: c’est pourquoi la rage

et le désespoir déﬁgurent toutes les formes du

semblant, alors que la compassion et la jouis

sance se limiteront à le modiﬁer légèrement. Un

conseil utile pour les étudiants c’est qu’ils doivent

faire attention à caractériser le tempérament et

les formes d’une ﬁgure de manière analogue à la

passion qu’ils veulent le faire exprimer. Il serait

ridicule, par exemple, que de représenter dans

une colère violente um homme dont les yeux

bleus, la stature décharnée et les formes effémi

nées indiquent la mollesse et le manque d’énergie.

De même, la douceur serait mal caractérisée par

une disposition absolument opposée

Dans son compendium, Taunay pré

sente 23 passions, la Conf

érence de Le

Brun en présente 21, et Audran 19. Cela

s’explique par le fait que Taunay déploie

en deux explications certaines de ses

passions, telles que La joie, de 1668 et

La joie tranquille, de 1727, transformées

en Tranquilit

é et La Joie, séparément. La

Douleur corporelle, ainsi concentrée sur les

textes de Le Brun et soulignée dans ses

planches telles que Douleur aigu

ë, Douleur

d’esprit et Douleur corporelle, a été déployée

dans le texte de Taunay en Douleur corpo

relle aiguë et d’esprit, Douleur corporelle simple

et Douleur corporelle extr

ême. L’édition de

1727 présente la Douleur aiguë et la Dou

leur corporelle simple. Le d

ésir et l’espoir, au

226 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

contraire, sont séparés dans l’édition de

1668, et l’Espoir est exclu de celle de

1727. Taunay unit ces deux passions en

une seule explication. Il en fait autant

concernant le M

épris et la Haine, sépa-

rés sur les deux éditions. L’édition de

1727 présente la Compassion [Fig. 5], pas

sion créée par Jean Audran lui-même,

n’existant donc pas dans l’original de

1668. La Compassion a cependant été

incorporée à la traduction de Taunay,

ce qui nous indique l’usage effectif de

cette édition. La Rage fait surface dans

le contenu de l’Extr

ême désespoir, isolée

dans la Conf

érence de 1668 (La Colère) et

isolée dans celle de 1727.

La contraction des muscles du front

et le mouvement du nez, l’ouverture de

la bouche et des yeux, la position de la

pupille, et surtout l’élévation des sour

cils, constituent les caractéristiques prin

cipales de la «construction» de la passion

dans les ﬁgures. Les sourcils seraient,

selon Le Brun,

... la partie de tout le visage ou les passions

se font mieux connaître, quoique plusieurs aient

pense que ce soit dans les yeux. Il est vrai

que la prunelle par son feu et son mouvement

fait bien voir l’agitation de l’âme, mais elle

ne fait pás connaître de quelle nature est cette

agitation. La bouche et le nez ont beaucoup de

part à l’expression, mais pour l’ordinaire ces

parties ne servent qu’à suivre les mouvements

du coeur ....

Le compendium de Taunay présente,

ainsi dénommées, les passions suivan

tes: La Tranquilité (planche 1), La Joie

(planche 2), l’Admiration (planche 3),

le Ravissement (planche 4), l’Attention

et l’Estime (planche 5), le Mépris et

la Haine (planches 6 et 16), l’Horreur

(planche 7), l’Effroi (planches 8 et

16), la Tristesse et le Découragement

(planches 9 et 14), le Ris (planche 10),

le Pleurer (planche 11), la Rage (plan

ches 12 et 13), l’Extrême Désespoir

(planche 13), l’Amour Simple (planche

14), le Désir et l’Espoir (planche 14),

la Vénération (planche 15), la Dou

leur Corporelle Simple (planche 15),

la Crainte (planche 16), la Compassion

(planche 17), et la Jalousie (planche 18).

Taunay présente donc 23 passions dé

crites séparément, quoique n’utilisant

que 19 planches comme illustration, ce

qui l’approche encore davantage de la

réédition d’Audran de 1727, composée

aussi de 19 planches.

Les proportions du corps humain

– Millin et Audran

La troisième et dernière partie de la

traduction composée par Taunay s’inti

tule «Quelques considérations générales

sur les proportions». Elle se reporte à

l’entrée «Proportion» du Dictionnaire

des Beaux-Arts

d’Aubin-Louis Millin,

édité en 1806 en France. L’entrée de

Millin est en fait constituée d’un court

essai à propos de la proportion dans le

domaine des beaux-arts, c’est-à-dire les

rapports mathématiques établis entre

les diverses parties du corps, et dans

lequel il cherche aussi à faire allusion

à la musique

, en travaillant les ques-

tions de l’harmonie appliquées au corps

humain, «modèle parfait des bonnes

proportions

”.

L’effet produit par la proportion ou la

disproportion se voit à chaque fois que plu

sieurs objets doivent concourir à former un

ensemble harmonieux. Sur les objets visibles,

il y a des proportions concernant la taille des

parties, dans ce sens: certaines peuvent être trop

grandes et d’autres trop petites; concernant la

lumière et le clair-obscur, certaines peuvent être

trop illuminées et d’autres pas assez; quant à

l’expression, il peut y avoir des parties plus bel

les, plus touchantes, en un mot, plus expressives

que le tout ne le permet. En ce qui concerne

le sens de l’ouïe, il y a des proportions par

rapport à la durée, à la force, à l’élévation des

tons, sur la grâce et l’effet qu’elles produisent.

Ce serait une erreur que d’imaginer que l’on ne

doit observer les bonnes proportions que dans

le dessin et l’architecture. Tous les artistes doi

vent y porter attention: elles sont à l’origine de

l’harmonie et de la vraie unité de l’ensemble.

Le dessin et l’architecture ont des

fonctions fondamentales dans ce sens.

Ensuite, lorsqu’il compare les tailles de

chaque partie du corps, faisant en sorte

qu’elles offrent au tout leur perfection

dans le sens de la proportion, Taunay

fait de nouveau mention à la ville et à

sa composition, aux parties qui peuvent

lui offrir les proportions adéquates, aux

espaces qui peuvent ou pas être remplis

par la lumière dans une édiﬁcation, aux

tailles des colonnes et leur solidité, en

ﬁn, aux éléments qui doivent se mouler

visant la perfection de l’ensemble. Ces

exemples sont utilisés pour décrire de

quelle manière chaque partie se rap

porte au tout. On y voit clairement le

chemin suivi par Millin dans sa con

ception de nature, se rapprochant de

la théorie du tout organique formulée

par Goethe, qui «nourrit un culte de

la nature, qu’il conçoit comme un tout

organique, dont l’harmonie repose sur

des lois à découvrir

”. Dans son essai,

Millin parle du concept de la nature

par rapport à l’harmonie, c’est-à-dire

«la soumission de la nature des parts et

de leurs rapports avec la nature du tout»,

sous laquelle le dessinateur doit choisir

les parties qui lui semblent plus conve

nables à la construction de sa ﬁgure.

Ensuite, il nous apprend comment

doivent être faites les mesures de la

tête et du visage, selon lesquelles seront

faites les mesures des autres parties du

corps. L’essai ﬁnit pourtant par servir

à discuter la question du dessin, ce qui

avait déjà été longuement fait, en détails

anatomiques, dans les traités antérieurs.

En fait, Taunay ﬁnit par obéir, dans son

épitomé, à l’ordre relatif aux cours d’ana

tomie: ostéologie, myologie, proportions

et formes, incorporant la physiologie des

passions de Le Brun et comprenant les

os et les muscles de la tête.

Finalement, dans le propre essai de

Millin, il y a un court passage intitulé

«Avec les divisions du corps humain par

Gérard Audran», sur les proportions à

partir des plus belles formes de l’Anti

quité réalisées par Gérard Audran. Le

traité réalisé par le graveur Audran, Les

proportions du corps humain mesur

ées sur les

plus belles ﬁgures de l’Antiquit

é, fut édité

RHAA 6 227

Traduções/Translations

en 1683 [Fig.6] et venait s’ajouter à une

série d’autres traités destinés à la forma

tion des élèves de l’Académie Royale

de Peinture et Sculpture en ce qui

concerne les proportions

, ainsi qu’à

celui antérieurement réalisé par Torte

bat et Le Brun. Comme le dit le titre

lui-même, Audran présente les mesures

de dix modèles grecs masculins, entre

lesquels les statues d’Apollon du Belve

dère, de Laocoonte, d’Hercule Farnese

et Antinoüs, deux modèles féminins,

entre lesquels la Vénus de Médicis et un

modèle égyptien, l’Égypte du Capitole

[Fig. 7]. Les statues se présentent en

différentes positions et les mesures de

leurs fragments sont aussi présentées. À

la préface de son œuvre, Audran expli

cite les objectifs de son travail:

Cela paroît d’abord fort aisé: car puisque

toute la perfection de l’Art consiste à bien imiter

la nature, il semble qu’il ne faille point consulter

d’autre Maistre, & qu’on n’ait qu’à travailler

d’après les modelles vivans; toutefois si l’on veut

approfondir la chose, on verra qu’il ne se trouve

pas que peu au point d’hommes dont toutes les

parties soient dans leur juste proportion sans

aucun default. Il faut donc choisir ce qu’il y a de

beau dans chacun, & ne prendre que ce qu’on

nomme communément la belle nature ... On

peut avancer hardiment qu’ils ont en quelque

sorte surpassé la nature; car bien qu’il soit

vray de dire qu’ils n’on fait veritablement que

l’imiter, cela s’entend pour chaque partie en par

ticulier, mais jamais pour le tout ensemble, &

il ne s’est point trouvé d’homme aussi parfait

en toutes ses parties que le sont quelques-unes

de leurs Figures. Ils ont imité les bras de l’un,

les jambes de l’autre, ramassant ainsi dans une

seule Figure toutes les beautez qui pouvoient

convenir au sujet qu’ils representoient, comme

nous voyons qu’ils ont rassemblé dans l’Hercule

tous les traits qui marquent la force, & dans

la Venus toute la délicatesse & toutes les graces

qui peuvent former une beauté achevée. Ils ne

plaignoient ny le temps ny les soins; ils s’en est

trouvé tel qui a travaillé toute sa vie en vuë de

produire seulement une Figure parfaite.

L’étude du modèle vivant ne serait

donc pas sufﬁsant pour la construction

de la ﬁgure, quoique fondamentale à

l’apprentissage artistique. Par le moyen

de l’étude de l’ancien et de l’appropria

tion de chacune de ses parties, l’on ar

riverait à la perfection des grecs, suivant

le modèle de Zeus, mais du point de vue

de la statuaire. Il évoque donc la supé

riorité de la statuaire ancienne face à la

nature. Toujours sur sa préface, Audran

discute à propos des parties irréguliè

res de chacun des modèles qui seront

rencontrés dans son traité, justiﬁées, ce

pendant, par la position que les statues

avaient dans leur originalité, ce qui ne

dérange en rien leur perfection.

On remarque, néanmoins, certaines

différences théoriques entre l’œuvre

d’Audran et l’article de Millin, surtout

par rapport à la question des parties

et du tout, comme nous l’avons vériﬁé

antérieurement. Taunay se soucie pour

tant plutôt de la méthode didactique,

sans vraiment s’occuper des questions

théoriques concernant chacun des

traités traduits, tout comme l’a fait Le

Brun lors de l’organisation de ses pas

sions. Millin, par exemple, ne cite pas

explicitement le nom d’Audran dans

son article de 1806, il se limite à faire

mention à l’existance d’une œuvre qui

traite des mesures générales des belles

statues. Taunay, en revanche, fait réfé

rence au traité d’Audran vers la ﬁn de

son texte sur Millin, faisant le pont en

tre ces deux ouvrages: «Gérard Audran

a adopté cette échelle dans son œuvre

intitulée «Proportions du corps humain me

sur

ées sur les plus belles statues de l’Antiquité,

Paris, 1863».

Sur son épitomé, Taunay fait un ré

sumé de ce traité édité en 1683, par le

moyen de considérations à propos des

mesures d’Apollon du Belvedère et de

Vénus de Médicis, en plus d’une courte

mention à Hercule de Farnese. Sur

deux paragraphes d’explication concer

nant les mesures des statues, Taunay

lui-même reconnaît la difﬁculté du sujet

et souligne, à la ﬁn: «Tout ça se montre

très compliqué: il convient que les élè

ves aient recours aux ﬁgures d’Audran

existentes à l’Académie, et sur lesquelles

s’offrent à la vue les mesures correctes

d’Hercule de Farnese, de Vénus de Mé

dicis, d’Apollon du Belvedere, d’Anti

noüs et de l’Égyptien du Capitole». Et

ainsi se termine sa courte référence à

Audran, sans d’autres explications sur

la question concernant la statuaire an

cienne et l’étude des proportions. Il

destine, néanmoins, tout au long de

sa carrière de directeur, une attention

spéciale à l’exemple de l’ancien.

Conclusion

En traduisant ces œuvres et organi

sant l’épitomé pour ses élèves, Taunay

place l’académie brésilienne dans l’en

semble des institutions qui utilisaient

et traduisaient les traités artistiques,

s’incorporant au système de circulation

des œuvres anatomiques destinées à la

méthodologie de l’enseignement.

La diffusion de ce modèle français

passait, au moyen de ses traductions,

par les académies anglaise, espagnole,

portuguaise, allemande, et, dorénavant,

brésilienne. Dans le cas du Brésil, Tau

nay fait une sélection d’ouvrages, les

traduisant et réunissant dans une seule

publication, ce qui ne se faisait pas cou

ramment dans les autres académies

Le cas qui se rapproche le plus du li

vre de Taunay est peut-être l’ouvrage

portuguais Medidas gerais do corpo hu

mano (Mesures g

énérales du corps humain),

publié en 1810 par le peintre Joaquim

Leonardo da Rocha, professeur d’une

école de dessin de l’Île Madère, œuvre

également basée sur les principaux trai

tés concernant les proportions

. Cette

publication se concentre cependant sur

le thème des proportions, ce qui la dis

tingue du compendium de Taunay, qui

est composé de plusieurs publications

concernant bien d’autres sujets. Dans

l’œuvre brésilienne, outre la praticité et

l’importance de chacun de ces traités

pour la méthodologie de l’enseignement

du dessin, en assemblant toutes ces œu

vres d’auteurs français en un seul livre,

Taunay pense sans doute à la question

ﬁnancière de l’académie et à sa dépen

228 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Le cours au modèle vivant fut approuvé par le

gouvernement impérial en 1834.

Les classes d’anatomie étaient déjà pré-

vues par les statuts réformés de 1833. Les

élèves, selon ces statuts, devraient suivre des

cours à l’Hôpital Militaire (Procès verbal

du 10/10/1833, Musée Dom João VI, EBA,

UFRJ), ce qui n’a pas eu lieu. Le premier pro

fesseur a été engagé en 1837.

Œuvre disparue du Musée Dom João VI depuis

les derniers travaux développés par le Profes

seur Alfredo Galvão, l’

Épitomé d’Anatomie fut re-

trouvé en juin 2004 grâce au déroulement de la

recherche en doctorat intitulée

Félix-Émile Tau-

nay: cidade e natureza no Brasil. L’

Épitomé est daté

de 1837 et fut imprimé par la Typographia

Na-

cional. C’est une œuvre rarissime qui se trouve

en parfait état, exception faite à sa couverture.

Elle n’est composée que de la théorie présente

dans les textes mentionnés ci-dessus.

“... et alors M. Ferrez a insisté sur la nécessité

de développement de cette classe, et pour sa

préparation, M. le directeur vient de traduire

l’

Épitomé d’Anatomie, qui va bientôt être publié».

Procès verbal du 1/3/1837, Musée Dom João

VI, EBA, UFRJ.

Il faut remarquer que Taunay avait traduit,

en 1836, l’ouvrage Arte de pintar a

óleo conforme

a pr

ática de Bardwell, baseada sobre o estudo e a

imitação dos primeiros mestres das escolas italianas,

inglesa e Flamenga, à partir de l’ouvrage anglais

de Thomas Bardwell, The Practice of Painting and

Perspective Made Easy. Le livre de Bardwell fut

édité en 1756, et Taunay prend pour base sa

édition.

Les élèves devaient avoir recours aux originaux

pour analyser les planches.

Abrégé d’anatomie, accommodé aux arts de peinture

et de sculpture, Et mis dans un ordre nouveau, dont

la m

éthode est très-facile, et débarassée de toutes les

difﬁcultez et choses inutiles, qui ont to

ûjours esté un

grand obstacle aux Peintres, pour arriver à la perfection

de leur Art. Ouvrage tr

ès-utile, et très-nécessaire à tous

ceux qui font profession du Dessein. Mis en lumi

ère par

Fran

çois Tortebat, Peintre du Roy dans son Académie

Royale de la Peinture et de la Sculpture. Paris, 1765.

Bibliothèque de l’Institut National d’Histoire

de l’Art – Collections Jacques Doucet.

Certains auteurs indiquent la date de 1667

comme étant celle de la première édition.

Sur l’exemplaire de l’École des Beaux-Arts,

l’année indiquée est celle de 1668. “De plus,

nous adoptons la date de 1668 pour une autre

raison qui nous semble plus valable encore: à la

suite du Privilège, qui est daté du 2 novembre

1667, se trouve la mention ‘Achevé d’imprimer

pour la première fois le douzième janvier

1668”. DUVAL, Mathias & CUYER, Édou

ard. Histoire de l’anatomie plastique. Les ma

îtres,

les livres et les

écorchés. Paris, Société française

d’éditions d’art, 1898, p. 139.

DUVAL, Mathias, p. 141. Cependant,

l’attribution des planches au Titien est une

thèse qui ne prend corps qu’au 17

siècle. À

son tour, Johannes Stephanus Calcar, assis

tant du Titien, est aussi considéré l’auteur des

planches de Vesalius, cité par Vasari dans la

deuxième édition des Vite. Cf. RÖHRL, Boris.

History and bibliography of artistic anatomy. NY:

2000; ainsi que ROBERTS, K. B. The fabric of

Body: European traditions of anatomical illustration.

Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992.

TORTEBAT, François. Op. cit., préface.

A ce sujet, voir BARBILLON, Claire. Canons

et th

éories de proportions du corps humain en France

(1780-1895). Thèse pour l’obtention du Doc

torat présentée devant l’université de Paris X

– Nanterre, sous la direction de M. le profes

seur Pierre Vaisse, 1998, v. 2.

Duval citant l’œuvre de Piles, L’art de la peinture.

Paris, 1751, p. 148, In DUVAL, Mathias, Op.

cit., p. 144.

Idem, p. 140.

Préface de l’Épitomé organisé par Taunay.

Dans son ouvrage, Schlosser conﬁrme l’usage

et la traduction de l’œuvre en diverses langues.

SCHLOSSER, Julios von. La littérature artisti

que. Paris: Flammarion, 1996, p. 629.

“José Luis Munárriz quedó encargado de

traducir los textos de los tres esqueletos y de

las ﬁguras”. NAVARRETE MARTINEZ,

Esperanza. La Academia de Bellas Artes de San

Fernando y la pintura en la primera mitad del siglo

XIX. Madrid: Fundación Universitaria Es

pañola, 1999, p. 168. Munárriz était acadé

micien d’honneur depuis 1796 et est devenu

secrétaire général à partir de 1807.

RÖHRL, Boris. Op. cit., p. 105.

PHILIPE, Julien, Op. cit., p. 27-8.

LE BRUN, Charles. L’expression des passions &

autres conf

érences, correspondances. Paris: Éditions

Dédale, 1994, p. 52.

PHILIPE, Julien. “Présentation”, In LE

BRUN, Charles. Op. cit., p. 25.

LE BRUN, Charles, Op. cit., p. 51.

Taunay, à l’introduction de la partie concer-

nant la «physiologie des passions».

LE BRUN, Charles, Op. cit., p. 60-1.

MILLIN, Aubin-Louis. Dictionnaire des Beaux-

Arts. Paris: Imprimerie de Crapelet, 1806.

dance par rapport au gouvernement en

ce qui concerne les frais de l’institution,

qui représentaient un grand problème

auquel l’institution devait faire face

chaque année.

Il nous semble évident que Taunay se

soucie, pendant ses premières années à

la tête de la direction, de créér un sys

tème adéquat à l’enseignement acadé-

mique, c’est-à-dire à partir d’éléments

qui composaient l’académie française

depuis son origine, mettant en évi

dence, comme il se doit, les questions

ayant rapport à l’ancien, essentielles à

l’esthétique néo-classique, en vogue

jusqu’aux ﬁns du 18

et débuts du 19

siècle. La mention au traité d’Audran,

quoique réduite, s’identiﬁait non seu-

lement à la reprise de l’ancien comme

conception esthétique à partir des théo

ries de Johann Winckelmann, suivies

par Taunay en tant que directeur de

l’académie, mais aussi au moyen de

nouvelles éditions (1801 et 1855) de

son traité, qui dorénavant allait être réu

tilisé dans les académies, ou dans des

publications mises à jour

par d’autres

auteurs, surtout en ce qui concerne les

mesures, comme c’est le cas de celle

élaborée par Nicolas Poussin, traduite

en français en 1803

Taunay sait très bien que la concep

tion parfaite du corps humain obte-

nue par le moyen du dessin consiste à

l’union de tous ces facteurs, soustrayant

les irrégularités du modèle vivant, avec

l’étude de l’anatomie et les modèles de

l’Antiquité, faisant naître de là sa forme

parfaite. Le dessin du nu et la statuaire

ancienne composent, néanmoins, les

principales classes auxquelles Taunay

se dédie très soigneusement pendant de

longues années de sa carrière. L’œuvre

rarissime de Taunay, publiée en 1837

et conservée aujourd’hui au Musée

Dom João VI à Rio de Janeiro est une

preuve concrète de ces modèles théo

riques, employés en très grande mesure

dans les académies, puissant instrument

pour le développement de la méthode

didactique employée au Brésil.

Traduction : Nina de Melo Franco

RHAA 6 229

Traduções/Translations

Le dictionnaire de Millin est destiné aux Be-

aux-Arts, comprenant aussi la musique.

BARBILLON, Claire. Op. cit., p. 461-5.

MODIGLIANI, Denise & BRUGÈRE, Fa-

bienne. “Préface”, In MENGS, Anton Ra

phael. Pens

ées sur la beauté et sur le goût dans la

peinture. Paris: ENSBA, 2000, p. 22.

Par exemple, les traités d’Henry Testelin

(1696) et Abraham Bosse (1656).

AUDRAN, Gerard. Les Proportions du corps hu-

main mesur

ées sur les plus belles ﬁgures de l’Antiquité.

À Paris, Chez Gérard Audran, Graveur du

Roy, rue S. Jacques, aux deux Pilier d’or.

MDCLXXXIII. Avec privilège du roy. Bi

bliothèque de l’Institut National d’Histoire

de l’Art, Collections Jacques Doucet.

À la ﬁn du 19

siècle, de nouveaux traités

d’anatomie sont publiés à partir de la réu

nion des ouvrages déjà parus, comme celui

de William Rimmer, Art Anatomy, de 1877.

Il y a des combinaisons nouvelles entre les

traités et la création de nouvelles ﬁgures, ca

ractérisant le surgissement d’um autre type de

publication dans le domainde de l’anatomie

destinée à l’enseignement, comme dans le

cas de Rimmer. Ce n’est pas le cas de Tau

nay, puisqu’en dépit du fait de travailler avec

plusieurs ouvrages em même temps, il ne fait

que les traduire, sans ajouter de nouvelles con

ceptions aux textes originaux. Il n’y a pas non

plus l’inclusion de nouvelles ﬁgures, les con

sultations se font sur les planches originales.

Cf. RÖHRL, Boris.

Op. cit.

RÖHRL, Boris. Op. cit. Le premier traité por-

tuguais d’anatomie,

Método de proporções e anatomia

do corpo humano, fut publié en 1836 par Francisco

de Assis Rodrigues, professeur de sculpture de

l’Academia de Belas Artes de Lisbonne.

Barbillon cite les imitateurs et les plagiats de

son œuvre, réalisés vers la ﬁn du 18

et 19

siècles, par exemple: Proportions des plus belles

ﬁgures de l’Antiquit

é, publié en 1794 por Fran-

çois-Anne David, Les

proportions du corps humain,

mesur

ées sur les plus belles statues de l’Antiquité, daté

de 1800, dont l’auteur est le méconnu Rinmon.

BARBILLON, Claire, Op. cit., p. 153.

Il s’agit du manuscrit de Nicolas Poussin inti-

tulé Mesures de la c

élèbre statue de l’Antinoüs suivies

de quelques observations sur la peinture, transcrit et

publié par Bellori en 1672 et traduit de l’italien

par M. Gault de Saint-Gervais, à Paris, pour

la maison d’édition Egron, en 1803.

Shipwreck Archaeology and the

project of studying a slave ship

Gilson Rambelli

Post-Doctoral Research Fellow, Center for

Strategic Studies (NEE/Unicamp)

Supported with a grant of Fapesp (São Paulo

State Science Foundation)

Director, Center for Nautical and Underwater

Archaeology (CEANS/NEPAM/Unicamp)

Introduction

This paper intends to present and

discuss shipwreck archaeology in Bra

zil, a theme which is quite novel in

the country. It aims to establish some

arguments, using a type of approach

that contemplates the maturing of ar

chaeological studies in its specialization

as nautical/underwater/maritime. This

pondering has as starting point two

considerations. The ﬁrst one is the fact

that in archaeology it does not matter

what type of activity is practiced nor

its relevance. All human actions that

have left material remains are signiﬁ

cant because they represent fragments

of social life in a certain moment

. Be-

ing so, a vessel, independent of its mag

nitude, - a wooden canoe or a modern

transatlantic -, when it wrecks becomes

an archaeological site. Those sites are

the evidence, the material remains, of

something that suddenly stopped ex

isting; a moment is interrupted when

a wreck happens. Being so, the wreck

represents, clearly, the material remains

of social moments that were happening

on board and that ceased while active

Archaeological sites of shipwrecks de

serve the same respect as any - inde

pendently of the remains being un

derwater. Unfortunately, in Brazil this

heritage is not well understood.

The second consideration refers to

the theme of our project: “the slave

ship” and to the fact that it is quite

novel. In the world there are very few

similar study cases that were developed

by archaeology

. Being so, very little has

been effectively produced, systemati

cally, on in situ studies of slave ships.

We believe that, maybe, one of the rea

sons for this situation is the negative

symbolic burden, coming from a re

cent historical memory, which this ap

proach receives in general, but specially

in former enslaver countries like Brazil.

Alberto da Costa e Silva, an Africanist,

shares this view with us about the lack

of research on slave ships. In his book

Um rio chamado Atl

ântico: a África no

Brasil e o Brasil na

África (“A river called

Atlantic: Africa in Brazil and Brazil in

Africa”), he says: “regarding this ship,

I have never set eyes upon a systematic

study to it dedicated, where we would

see gathered, analyzed and completed

the data that exists on the evolution,

along more than 300 years, of the types

and sizes of the vessels used for slave

trafﬁc, their production, their crew,

their logistics and their economic han

dling. This data exists but still is scat

tered around different sources”

. We

believe that quotes like this one only

enhance our responsibility towards our

ﬁeld researches.

Being so, an archaeological research

that aims in studying the remains of

a slave shipwreck in Brazil - a brig of

North-American origin, named Ca

margo that sank in Angra dos Reis, RJ,

in 1852, leads to several possibilities

regarding the production of knowl

edge. Among them, we can mention

answering the nautical archaeological

gap regarding the vessel as an artifact,

which will give voice to the excluded

from ofﬁcial historiography, those who

sailed in these vessels as human cargo

and as crew. Archaeology will permit a

“reading of material culture conjugated

with the interpretation of the written

source”

. This kind of approach, with

very rare exceptions, is still limited to

ideological discourses and to general

izing and homogenizing ideas about

the slave ship.

230 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Shipwreck Archaeology

Shipwreck archaeology is archae

ology! It represents the integration of

certain archaeological specializations,

as nautical (regarding the vessel), un

derwater (regarding the environment of

the site) and maritime (regarding the so

ciety), into one speciﬁc category, which

studies one speciﬁc type of archaeologi

cal site. It has absolute no relation what

soever with the adventurous action of

treasure hunting, which is permitted by

law in Brazil, and which regards those

kind of underwater sites as lost material

that need to be recovered in exchange

of rewards

. Shipwreck archaeology

believes that these sites, which help

form the underwater cultural heritage,

and the production of archaeological

knowledge about them, only has mean

ing if they are public - that is, open to

the people - and if they can interact

with the different communities.

We want also to stress that this

archaeological standing, which char

acterizes the archaeologist as a social

agent and legitimizes a concern with

cultural diversity, has begun to be built

only after 1986, when the World Archaeo

logical Congress was founded. It reunited

archaeologists, researchers of different

ﬁelds and general public from several

segments of society, all worried with

the social dimensions of archaeology

Nowadays, archaeological research is

no longer conceived as possible without

a public commitment. It is not possible,

anymore, to conceive an archaeological

site as an intellectual property of the re

searchers

or as private property, in the

case of shipwrecks in Brazil, of treasure

hunting enterprises.

The Unesco Convention for the

Protection of the Underwater Cultural

Heritage

was set in 2001, in Paris. It

recognizes an archaeological site as pub

lic and considers public engagement to

be fundamental. It also stimulates the

adoption of public policies in favor of

the underwater cultural heritage, aim

ing in guaranteeing its existence for the

future generations. Because of this, the

Convention incites the adoption of edu

cational heritage programs and of un

derwater tourism aimed to the general

public, when possible, in order to inte

grate the public with the researches and,

by this, valorizes the importance of this

cultural heritage in human history.

An archaeological site formed by

the remains of shipwrecks is consid

ered underwater cultural heritage. It

also has international characteristics.

Understanding this point is quite sim

ple! We can use as an example the brig

Camargo itself. This vessel was built in

the United States and its remains are lo

cated in Angra dos Reis, RJ. The crew,

as it was usual back then, must have

been quite diverse (North-Americans,

Portuguese people, Brazilians, among

others). The brig was responsible for

the trafﬁc of Africans from Mozam

bique to Brazil. We have no evidence of

the presence of human remains in the

data available. We believe this is so be

cause, in order to eliminate evidence of

clandestine trafﬁc, the vessel was burnt

soon after the landing of the enslaved

Africans. The Camargo site represents,

explicitly, the testimony of a multi ma

terial culture from several origins. It

is no different from other such wreck

sites, spread through seas and oceans

of the world.

In this context it is important to

stress that, for archaeology, a shipwreck

archaeological site

“Represents a complex system that,

like any other representation of soci

ety comprehends inequalities, contra

dictions and social conflicts. Being

the vessel understood as the common

name for any construction aimed in

sailing on water

- an ﬂoating artifact;

or being it understood as the major his

torical expression of the exchange ﬂux;

or being it a power structure; or being

it the ﬂoating representation of social

relations; or understanding the vessel

as a mobile human landscape; or, still,

the vessel being understood as regional,

national or international social-histori

cal symbols of identities.”

To think about shipwreck archaeolog-

ical sites in Brazil, through archaeology,

is to think about the identities among

them and the several types of people in

our society, “the voices, the remains and

the rights of the native, black and people

in general excluded from the dominant

accounts”

. In Brazil, the memories of

the Atlantic crossings are part of the

construction of Brazilian history. After

all, the ethnical plurality of the Brazilian

people is a result of such crossings (since

pre-history). The remains of shipwrecks

are, by far, the great monuments for this

cultural construction

. Nevertheless, the

role played by this relationship - vessel

and crossings - is lost in our educational

formation and assumes an obvious role.

That is, it is taken for granted: we sailed

and that’s it!

But, we wonder if this complex proc

ess can really be synthesized so simply?

Aren’t we disregarding relevant infor

mation about a common past, the sail

ing? Taking in consideration that every

vessel has a name and a shape that rep

resents its dimensions, function, crew,

load, chronology, etc, we change that

understanding immediately. Why, then,

should we generalize things, since a ca

noe made by a single piece of wood is

different from a raft, in the same way

as a ship is different from a Portuguese

galleon, and the latter is different from

a Spanish galleon, which, by its turn, is

different from a frigate, and the latter,

once again, is different from a brig, and

successively? They all have only one

thing in common, they sail!

This new approach, which we are

proposing, suggests, for instance, that

in the case of a shipwreck site, every day

life on board should be contemplated

by material culture. Its archaeological

context should be studied in situ, with

the help from history and maritime eth

nography (which deals with the seaman),

and not by a fetish for objects removed

from these sites

. This material culture

RHAA 6 231

Traduções/Translations

can certainly tell us different stories,

distinct from the ones registered in the

captains or any passenger’s diaries and

that represent ofﬁcial history. Besides, it

is always a good idea to emphasize the

concept that a written document should

be considered a discourse

and not a

given truth. “The study of the subaltern

classes has increased. Archaeological

sources give a big contribution to those

studies, because they have an anony

mous and involuntary character”

Faced by these considerations, we

stress the idea that all shipwreck sites

should be respected in order to be stud

ied properly! They are not only unique

but cannot be revived once destroyed;

they are complex symbolic systems,

ﬁlled with meanings

. It is always good

to keep in mind that the importance of

an archaeological site is subjective and

depends on the goals of the researcher. It

is him who “reintroduces the artifacts of

extinct cultures in a existing society”

(Re) thinking slave ships

Although enslaved Africans trafﬁc

lasted for more than three hundred

years, period during which we ﬁnd im

provements on naval construction and

when new sailing technologies were

developed (for instance, vapor propul

sion), the image that comes to our mind

when we think about this trafﬁc, as is

well put by the historian Jaime Rod

rigues in his book De costa a costa (“From

coast to coast”), from 2005, is the image

inspired by the gravure Negros no por

ão

(“Negroes in the hold”), from 1835, by

Johann Moritz Rugendas, which has be

come a classical illustration that appears

in several works done on this theme.

The ships known as “slave ships”, or

“tumbeiros”, actually were produced

of several different types, but gained,

through this movement, a unique, ho

mogenous vision.

Rugendas turns the hold of a ship,

through his iconographic reference, in a

“representation of slave trafﬁc, by excel

lence, independently of chronology and

changes in naval architecture. Focusing,

essentially, in the tiny holds of ships,

dark and packed with captured Afri

cans, the use of such crystallized slave

trafﬁc images turns the slave ship in an

object without history, since the way it is

perceived is almost timeless”

This gravure, in particular, has an

interesting appeal for nautical archae

ology, because it sends us back to the

interior of the ship, and not to the ship

itself. Because of its constant illustrative

use, ﬁlled up with meanings, this im

age became the symbol, in collective

imaginary, of the interior of all vessels

that transported African slaves. By this,

we have a homogenizing of three hun

dred years of naval construction, which

became only the hold of a ship. This

iconography has transformed the hold

in the ofﬁcial place of transporting hu

man cargo in a slave ship, a “tumbeiro”!

But, if we analyze it through a techni

cal approach rather then an ideological

one, we will observe that the idea of

“negroes in a hold of a ship” does not

portrait, in fact, the hold itself.

This observation of ours has absolute

no intention of minimizing the cruelty

with which the maritime slave trafﬁc

was held. In fact, Rugendas representa

tion can be called quite soft. Our aim

is to stress the point of how little we

do know about these ships. They rep

resented, explicitly, maritime transpor

tation, in such a way that we came to

generalize certain terms, consequence

of built discourses, that did not coincide

with the vessels’ architecture itself.

For instance, through all the cen

turies of maritime trafﬁc of enslaved

Africans, a huge range of vessels, of

distinct types and sizes, was used for

this function. Some of them were built

just to perform this kind of commerce

and others - the majority of which were

already quite old - were adapted for the

same purpose. Being so, the consecrated

reference of “negroes in the hold of a

ship” not always ﬁtted the schematic or

ganization of a vessel that transported

human cargo. Everything was possible

in terms of lodging, cooresponding to

the type of the vessel, but, roughly, ac

cording to the French architect Jean

Boudriot (1984), one of the world’s ma

jor specialists in naval construction, the

internal division of space occurred in

three levels (considered from below to

the top): 1 - the hold, for storing water

and provisions; 2 - a fake cover

, for the

human cargo (black Africans slaves);

and 3 - a cover, for the crew.

We should emphasize that this de

scription of the slave ships’ scheme of

organization comes from the study of

French written sources from the 18th

century. It corresponds to a schematic

drawing made by the Englishman

Robert Walsh, in 1828, after he had

visited the Brazilian slave ship Veloz,

which was intercepted in Africa by the

vessel he himself was traveling

. This

coincidence is very meaningful for the

study of slave ships. According to Ro

drigues (2005), “Walsh was one of the

few travelers to set foot upon a ship

loaded of negroes” (p. 134). This shows

that Walsh was concerned with depict

ing exactly what he saw, without letting

himself get inﬂuenced by the abolition

ist propaganda from the period

. The

drawing shows the schematic division

of the ship from the outside, depicting

the hold, with its load of provisions and

water, the fake cover, with its reduced

space, over crowded, and the slaves,

there, piled up; and the deck.

Regarding the overpopulation at the

fake covers of ships - and not at the

holds -, which can be identiﬁed from

different sources, we also share the

view that this was done, in a very cruel

way, to answer the demand of a ever so

greedy market in search of slave labor.

We have expressed here the desire to

acquire the maximum proﬁt by trans

porting also the maximum quantity

of individuals in a single voyage, even

though this could lead to a considerable

number of casualties.

232 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

“According to Gorender, the high

level of mortality at the sea was the

result of a ‘big differential’ between

the slave price of purchase in Africa

and their price of selling in Brazil.

Certain voyage costs, he afﬁrms, like

the use of the ship and the costs with

the crew, were unchangeable, no mat

ter what was the cargo, and the only

additional costs resulting from the

overloading were spent with the slaves

themselves and with a small increment

in the cost of maintenance. ‘In such

circumstances’, he concludes, ‘it was

worthwhile to take the risk’”

We should add the maritime tradi

tion of, in an organized way, making

good use of the space available in the

vessels used for maritime transport

of goods (this fact is mentioned a lot

in the accounts of maritime voyages).

There is also the fact that, for the sea

man back then, the enslaved African

negro was considered a merchandise to

be transported as live cargo and not

as a passenger. Finally, the concept of

comfort on board is very recent in the

universe of navigation. Only by the end

of the 19th century we see it being de

veloped through the use of the trans

atlantic, also dedicated to the passenger

(voyage industry).

Regarding the human cargo that was

loaded, it is important to stress that

many sources, like Walsh’s own report,

describe the organization on board, for

instance the division of the slaves by

gender and age. This demonstrates a

concern with the distribution of these

people in the vessel, aiming at having

more safety on board, not only regard

ing possible revolts, but also through a

point of view that privileges the control

of the live cargo’s weight, because it is

mobile and provoke problems during

the navigation.

Concerning the life of the seamen,

the ones responsible for this kind of

transportation and not for the commer

cial activity that it involved, we must

remember that it was very hard and

without any privileges. Social inequali

ties of the societies were reproduced

on board even strongly

. To those on

board “an extremely heterogeneous

world” was revealed, “the characters

at the vessel could not be reduced to

mere sailors, because this coarse sim

pliﬁcation would hide the labor divi

sion that sustained a space with a rigid

hierarchy, something characteristic of

that ﬂoating society”

. Thirst, hunger

and discomfort did not only happen to

the ones being transported as merchan

dise, many sailors had to deal with this

kind of challenge. Because, “the sea

men had to ally physical resistance with

minimum provisions, and many times,

hunger. Besides, there were the risks of

the diseases - like scurvy, rheumatism,

typhus, yellow fever, ulcers and skin

diseases - and also the perils of the job

itself, which causes hernias and trauma

tisms”

. Not surprisingly, wooden legs

and other mutilations are common on

the accounts about these men

Maritime activities are dependent

on the conditions of nature, like good

winds, becalmed seas and tempests.

How nature behaved was a fundamen

tal factor to avoid despair among those

on board, everyone, and not only the

slaves being transported. Nevertheless,

for the slaves the physical factor - due

to a process which began much before

the sea voyage itself and that weakened

them, not helping to endure the hard

challenges of such an oceanic voyage

- and the psychological terrors to which

they were exposed (the trauma of get

ting on board by force, not knowing

what was going to happen), put them

in disadvantage by comparison with

the crew. Even so, as we pointed out,

the possibilities of suffering during the

voyage were general; “the hard condi

tions on board led also the crew in the

slave ships to death”

Some travelers’ accounts give us

a non-humanist approach regarding

the overloading on board. They were

familiar with life at sea and were wit

nesses to the trafﬁc. For instance, the

German Schlichthorst, who, in 1829,

“would say that ‘at the slave ships

themselves, space is not so narrow as

usually people imagine. A vessel that

in Europe could take on board three

hundred passengers, transports from

Africa four hundred negroes’ ”

For an archaeology of the slave ship

Shipwreck archaeological sites many

times are compared to time capsules be

cause of the conservational state of

their remains. Nevertheless, we must

draw attention to the conceptual hazard

of this metaphor. It is not a rule. The

process of formation and conservation

of those sites, after the wreck, is going

to determine if there really is a possibil

ity of the artifacts and other evidence

to remain in place. Depending on the

environmental dynamics of the loca

tion of the site, the remains from the

shipwreck can spread out for hundreds

of feet or even for miles. In that sense,

part of the archaeological material be

longing to that speciﬁc context, that is,

to the vessel destruction, may not be

near the main structure

For archaeology, life on board of

a vessel, mainly in ultramarine - for

instance, the case of the brig Camargo,

that came from Mozambique - due to

its complexity, may be translated into a

social microcosm. This microcosm was,

many times, faithful to its place of ori

gin (or places, considering the plurality

of the crew and their long periods of

sojourn in Africa), and those people

brought along with them for the jour

ney several different artifacts. All of

them give testimony of their time and

their moment

. We must keep in mind,

also, that many of the artifacts that are

found, isolated or in association with

others, may be used as excellent mark

ers of certain particularities regarding

social-cultural aspects.

Nevertheless, while ﬁeldwork at the

Camargo did not begin, it became neces

RHAA 6 233

Traduções/Translations

sary to understand more about maritime

navigation and all that it involved. Es

pecially, understand more about these

vessels. Keith Muckelroy (1978), British

archaeologist, is the father of a classi

cal deﬁnition for a vessel: “a machine,

conceived to serve as a means of trans

portation; a relevant functional set of a

military or economical system; a close

community, with its own hierarchy, its

habits and its own conventions”

. This

deﬁnition is the one used in order to

understand a vessel. Since we lack the

information that an archaeological ex

cavation would give us, we chose to an

alyze a concrete example, documental:

the case study made by Jean Boudriot

in his book Traite: Negrier l’Aurore, pub

lished in 1984

In his work, Boudriot presents and

discusses the French slave ship l’Aurore,

built in 1784 by H. Penevert. The text is

technical and specialized, well provided

of important information on this sub

ject. This information allows us to get

closer to that ship and to its dynamics.

L’Aurore was a ship of 280 tons

approximately measuring 30 meters

of length and 8 meters of beam

equipped with three masts (a chief one

and two smaller ones), artillery limited

to eight cannons of small caliber

, and

which already used the technology of

copper coating at the hull. This revet

ment protected the wood of the hull,

which were ﬂuctuant and immersed (in

nautical terms, the living-work of a ves

sel), from the shipworm

(teredo navalis).

Those shipworms

are very common in

ports where the waters are hot and clean,

like the African ones where the vessels

remained anchored for months.

Although l’Aurore was not a very big

ship, if we keep in mind the vast typol

ogy of vessels, this frigate was able to

transport 600 slaves in its fake cover,

due to the good use of the two ﬂoors

(quarterdeck type) built at the same

ﬂoor. It had on board, enabling a good

running of the vessel, a crew of 40 to

45 men

Thirst was one of the most feared

problems when at sea. To guarantee the

surviving of those 650 people on board,

according to Boudriot, the vessel needed

a great amount of water, the equivalent,

approximately, of 2,8 liters per person,

per day. So, for a 60 days journey it was

needed circa 110.000 liters of water; and

1.820 liters for each extra day. Even if

we take into consideration the fact that

casualties on board would reduce both

the strength and the number of human

cargo transported, it was necessary, when

making up the provisions, to take into

account wastefulness and the inevitable

leaking of the barrels.

In order to understand more clearly

what this meant, at the l’Aurore hold, for

instance, instead of slaves, as Rugendas

paints, there was 581 barrels of water

(each with the capacity of holding 242

liters). In total, it hold 140.000 liters,

and that enabled the ship to have an

autonomy - in theory - equivalent to 2

and a half months of water use.

This aspect of the load was so impor

tant that, when a vessel was approached

by the British patrolling, during the pe

riod of ﬁghting the trafﬁc off, one of

the clues used to prove that that vessel

was involved in that kind of commerce

was the quantity of water barrels at the

holds. The grated scuttles, that divided

the fake cover of the deck, were also

used as incriminating evidence

Besides the hundreds of water bar

rels, l’Aurore also transported at its hold:

10 tons of biscuit, 10 tons of rice, 4 tons

of fava bean, gunpowder and ammuni

tion for the cannons, extra sails, ropes

(kilometers of them) and other materials

in general, among many other things

How to administer all this? Only a

routine work disciplined and organized

would be successful in order to manage

such complexity. It is hard to imagine

650 people in a ﬂoating conﬁned space

at the ocean. This only reinforces what

was already said about life on board,

and how navigation itself, result of

this orchestrated activity that involves

man-vessel-nature, could be related to

the success and precision of such an

operation. Pompey, the famous roman

general, once said regarding this proc

ess: “Navigating is necessary, life is not

necessary” (Navigare necesse; vivere nos est

necesse).

However, we should point out that

this example, studied by Boudriot, re

gards a vessel, a frigate, used when slave

trafﬁc was legal. We know of dozens of

other kinds of vessels, and they varied

immensely along those 300 years. What

kind of vessel was the brig Camargo? Was

it faster, because it operated in clandes

tineness? How was its hold, what was

different from other vessels? Regarding

the transportation of the slaves, the brig

Camargo was not much different from

l’Aurore. The data we have reveal that it

unloaded “in Bracuí, Ilha Grande (to

the south of Rio de Janeiro), circa 500 to

600 negroes coming from Quelimane,

Mozambique. Soon after the brig was

set on ﬁre by the population”

The intentional ﬁre and the subse

quent sinking were used as a means

of concealing evidence, thus avoiding

embarrassment for the powerful peo

ple directly involved with that illegal

commerce. But, what was left of this

episode? Only archaeology is able to

access the remnant material culture of

the Camargo, since the main structure

of the hull and some archaeological

evidence has already been located and

even plundered by adventurous divers.

According to information given by a

local diver in his book Guia dos nau

ágios da Baía de Ilha Grande: “Camargo

suffered some sacks. More recently, lan

terns and other pieces were removed in

order to decorate a hotel in the Baía da

Ribeira. Nowadays, the ship is in a state

of complete dismantling, but in a safe

place, because the area has become an

underwater archaeological site, where

one can only dive if he has an authori

zation”

. The Navy of Brazil gives this

authorization; our project awaits it to

initiate ﬁeldwork.

234 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Traditional historiography uses the

textual data available from that period

in order to study this episode. It involved

corruption of the justice system, power

ful local people, and other things. On

the other hand, the material culture still

waits to be analyzed by archaeology. Be

ing aware that a shipwreck site represents

something that ceased to exist all of a

sudden, the remains of the Camargo rep

resent an interrupted moment of 1852,

packed with material culture - the ship

itself is an artifact -, all direct testimony

of a period, of the people, of the trafﬁc,

and that may conﬁrm and/or contradict

much of what is said in the textual data

available and produced: history that can

not be found in the books!

Final considerations

In the beginning of the 1960’s, in

ternationally speaking, underwater ar

chaeological ﬁnds relating to shipwreck

sites began to question the insufﬁciency

of the textual data available and known

in order to provide information for the

questions that emerged from ﬁeld works

made on those sites. For instance, details

about the construction of those vessels,

the loads, and the commerce routes.

Doubts and news that pointed towards

the “birth” of a new area of produc

tion of archaeological knowledge, and

that came to add to the strengthening of

archaeology as a social science, break

ing away with romantic tradition that

saw it as a simple technique to illustrate

the tragic-maritime history. But, at the

same time that this speech arose, built

upon the analysis and the interpretation

of underwater material culture, the then

“young” specialists of this “Nautical/

Underwater/Maritime Archaeology”

identiﬁed a certain academic disdain

regarding their subject

This fact, unfortunately, is still

present in our Human Sciences, even

after ﬁfty successful years of works in

this archaeological specialization. Ac

cording to the British archaeologist

Sean McGrail, a specialist, the issue

here is a kind of general antipathy for

the nautical subject, this antipathy can

be related to the abyss that divides sea

men and men from the land

. This is so

real that there are still few researchers

that “adventure themselves into those

seldom navigated seas”!

This division between maritime and

continental people does not represent

any novelty and is something that has

gone on in western societies because the

sea still is seen as “a badly known space,

dangerous, outside terrestrial culture,

outlaws that rule the continent”

. That

is why we ﬁnd such “agro centric”

ap-

proaches that make us call Earth a planet

made mainly of water. Maybe this is due

to the divisions of the worlds, identi

ﬁed by maritime anthropology, which

contribute to justify this distance that

exists in the Human Sciences regarding

this subject. In the Brazilian case, they

may serve as argument for the existence

of a legislation that contradicts our own

Federal Constitution.

In the beginning of the 1990’s, “in a

context of political and thematic open

ing”

we experienced, at the same time

that the sketching of a Brazilian sci

entiﬁc underwater archaeology

was

being produced, another novelty in

Brazil. Three archaeologists of distinct

nationalities: Pedro Paulo Abreu Funari

(Brazilian), Charles Orser Jr. (North-

American) and Michael Rowlands

(British) established a pioneer project

in Brazilian archaeology: the study

of the Quilombo dos Palmares (from

Zumbi dos Palmares). This subject be

came consecrated by distinct historic

and anthropological approaches, which

“provided other accounts, less centered

in the written discourse and concerned

with the exploited or excluded social

groups”

, and that used the study of

material culture. Contributing thus to

a novel way of conceiving archaeologi

cal research in Brazil, inspired by the

ﬂuidity of the identities, breaking away

with traditional cultural models, homo

geneous and normative

Interesting enough, nowadays, over

little more than a decade, Brazilian ar

chaeology testiﬁes the integration of

those two subjects, because the present

project intends on studying social groups

that were excluded through the analysis

and the interpretation of material cul

ture remnant of a slave ship. This will be

done having in mind the aims of public

archaeology, that understands that ar

chaeology is only possible if it can be

integrated to the local communities and

can work along social movements.

The results of those archaeological

studies about the remains of a slave ship,

which was deliberately sank in order to

be forgotten, have a lot to contribute

to history. Its material remains (what

survived of the hull) must be used as a

monument for preserving the memory

of what meant slavery and human traf

ﬁc around the world, “hoping that the

ﬁght for a period of justice, liberty and

equality will continue in order to avoid

that such crimes happen again”

Acknowledges

This article is part of a post-doctorate

research, which is being sponsored by

Fapesp, titled “Arqueologia Subaquática

de um navio negreiro: a história que

não está nos livros”, and that is being

developed at the Núcleo de Estudos

Estratégicos da Universidade Estadual

de Campinas (Nee/Unicamp), under

the supervision of Pedro Paulo Abreu

Funari, since 2005. I would like to

thank my companions in the ﬁghting

for underwater cultural heritage: Pedro

Paulo Abreu Funari; Paulo Bava de Ca

margo; Flávio Calippo; Leandro Duran;

Randal Fonseca; Glória Tega; Robert

Grenier; Pilar Luna Erreguerena; Fran

cisco Alves; Filipe Castro; and Sandra

Pelegrini. I also thank Fapesp and the

Nee/Unicamp. The responsibility for

the ideas belongs only to the author.

English version:

M. Cristina N. Kormikiari Passos

tanit@usp.br

RHAA 6 235

Traduções/Translations

LUMBRERAS, Luis G. La arqueología como

ciencia social. Lima: Edición Peisa, 1981

RAMBELLI, Gilson. Arqueologia subaquática

do Baixo Vale do Ribeira. 2003. Thesis (PhD in

Archaeology) – Faculdade de Filosoﬁa, Letras

e Ciências Humanas da USP: Museu de Arque-

ologia e Etnologia da USP, São Paulo, 2003.

For instance, the studies produced in the

1970’s about the Portuguese slave ship James

Matthews, which wrecked (already modiﬁed)

in 1841, near Freemantle, in Australia; or, in

the 1980’s, a study about the English slave ship

Henrietta Marie. This ship wrecked in 1700, in

Florida (New Ground Reef), and it was used

much more as an illustration of history rather

than as a work of archaeological interpretation.

Besides those studies mentioned, we cannot

count for more than a dozen similar study cases

around the world, all poorly publicized.

SILVA, Alberto da Costa e. Um rio chamado

Atlântico: a África no Brasil e o Brasil na

África. Rio de Janeiro: Nova Fronteira, Ed.

UFRJ, 2003, p.79.

FUNARI, Pedro Paulo Abreu & CARVALHO,

Aline Vieira de. Palmares, ontem e hoje. Rio

de Janeiro: Jorge Zahar Editor, 2005, p.51.

RAMBELLI, Gilson. Arqueologia subaquática

do Baixo Vale do Ribeira. 2003.

FUNARI, Pedro Paulo Abreu. “Teoria e

método na Arqueologia contemporânea: o

contexto da Arqueologia Histórica”. In: Fu

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na Arqueologia contemporânea”, 2006a, p. 21

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tica do Baixo Vale do Ribeira,. 2003.

As is established by a Federal Law (number

10.166/00), which, oddly eneough, allows tre

asure hunting and sets Brazil in a path totally

different from the one most countries have

assumed.

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todo na Arqueologia contemporânea”, 2006a.

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queológicas: os historiadores e a cultura ma

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tica do Baixo Vale do Ribeira, 2003.

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São Paulo: Contexto, 2003, p. 34.

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vos, marinheiros e intermediários do tráﬁco

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Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2005, p.131-32.

Any deck located below the main deck

(CHERQUES, Sérgio. Dicionário do mar.

São Paulo: Globo, 1999). For the layman this

brings to mind the idea of the inferior ﬂoor:

the hold.

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para o Brasil. São Paulo: Ática, 2004 (Série

História em movimento); De costa a costa:

escravos, marinheiros e intermediários do trá

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São Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2005.

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propostas e experiências no ﬁnal do tráﬁco de

africanos para o Brasil (1800-1850). Campinas:

Editora da UNICAMP, 2000); RODRIGUES,

Jaime. De costa a costa: escravos, marinheiros

e intermediários do tráﬁco de Angola ao Rio

de Janeiro (1780-1860). São Paulo: Companhia

das Letras, 2005.

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tráﬁco escravista para o Brasil . Translation:

Elvira Serapicos. São Paulo: Brasiliense, 1985,

p.63-4.

MICELI, Paulo. O ponto onde estamos:

viagens e viajantes na história da expansão e

da conquista. São Paulo: Scritta, 1994; RAM

BELLI, Gilson. Arqueologia subaquática do

Baixo Vale do Ribeira. 2003.

MICELI, Paulo. O ponto onde estamos: via-

gens e viajantes na história da expansão e da

conquista. São Paulo: Scritta, 1994, p. 105.

RODRIGUES, Jaime. De costa a costa: escra-

vos, marinheiros e intermediários do tráﬁco

de Angola ao Rio de Janeiro (1780-1860). São

Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2005, p. 171.

DURAN, Leandro D. A construção da pira-

taria: O processo de formação do conceito de

“pirata” no período moderno. 2000. Disser

tation (Measters in History) – Departamento

de História da Faculdade de Filosoﬁa, Letras

e Ciências Humanas da Universidade de São

Paulo, São Paulo, 2000.

BARRETO, Luis Felipe apud FLOREN-

TINO, Manolo. Em costas negras: uma his

tória do tráﬁco de escravos entre a África e

o Rio de Janeiro: séculos XVIII e XIX. São

Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 1997, p. 145.

RODRIGUES, Jaime. De costa a costa: escra-

vos, marinheiros e intermediários do tráﬁco

de Angola ao Rio de Janeiro (1780-1860). São

Paulo: Companhia das Letras, 2005, p.134-35.

MUKELROY, Keith. Maritime archaeology.

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1978.;

Gould, Richard. “Contextual relationships”.

In: DELGADO, J. P. (Ed.). Encyclopaedia

of Underwater and Maritime Archaeology.

London: British Museum, 1997; CONLIN,

David L.; MURPHY, Larry E. “Shipwrecks”.

In: ORSER JR., Charles E. (Ed.). Encyclo-

pedia of Historical Archaeology. London:

Routledge, 2002; RAMBELLI, Gilson. Ar

queologia subaquática do Baixo Vale do Ri

beira, 2003.

MARTIN, Colin. L'archéologie en milieu

subaquatique. In: LA SALVAGARDE du

patrimoine subaquatique. Paris: UNESCO,

1980; PARKER, Anthony J. Mediterrâneo,

um museu submerso. O Correio da Unesco,

v. 18, n. 1, p.8-10, jan. 1988; RAMBELLI,

Gilson. A arqueologia subaquática e sua apli

cação à arqueologia brasileira: o exemplo do

baixo vale do Ribeira de Iguape. 1998. Disser

tation (Masters in Archaeology) – Faculdade

de Filosoﬁa, Letras e Ciências Humanas da

USP: Museu de Arqueologia e Etnologia da

USP, São Paulo, 1998; RAMBELLI, Gilson.

Arqueologia até debaixo d’água. São Paulo:

Maranta, 2002; RAMBELLI, Gilson. Arque

ologia subaquática do Baixo Vale do Ribeira,

2003; RAMBELLI, Gilson. “Os desaﬁos da

Arqueologia Subaquática no Brasil”. Eletronic

Magazine of History e-História. Available at

www.historiaehistoria.com.br. 2004. Access

in 09/01/2004.

MUCKELROY, Keith. Maritime Archaeo-

logy apud POMEY, Patrice & RIETH, Eric.

L’archéologie navale. Paris: Editions Errance,

2005, p.16.

BOUDRIOT, Jean. Traite et navire négrier:

l’Aurore (1784). Paris: Ancre, 1984.

Ton is a unity that expresses the volume or

cargo capacity of a ship, named tonnelage

(CHERQUES, Sérgio. Dicionário do mar.

São Paulo: Globo, 1999.).

Beam is a nautical term that corresponds to

the widest breadth of a ship, at the chief rib.

236 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Artillery aimed at protecting the vessel espe-

cially from pirate attacks.

BOUDRIOT, Jean. Traite et navire négrier:

l’Aurore (1784). Paris: Ancre, 1984; CHER-

QUES, Sérgio. Dicionário do mar. São Paulo:

Globo, 1999; RODRIGUES, Jaime. De costa

a costa: escravos, marinheiros e intermediá

rios do tráﬁco de Angola ao Rio de Janeiro

(1780-1860). São Paulo: Companhia das Le

tras, 2005.

The shipworm is a mollusk that can grow from

5 to a 100 centimeters in length and achieve

2 centimeters of diameter. It is extremely bad

to the living-work of the hull, because there

they build a gallery, and this eventually per

forates all the wood, making it useless and

harmful for the vessel’s navigability (CASTA

NHEIRA, Edmundo. Manual de construção

do navio de madeira. Lisboa: Dinalivro, 1991;

CHERQUES, Sérgio. Dicionário do mar. São

Paulo: Globo, 1999).

BOUDRIOT, Jean. Traite et navire négrier:

l’Aurore (1784). Paris: Ancre, 1984.

BOUDRIOT, Jean. Traite et navire négrier:

l’Aurore (1784). Paris: Ancre, 1984; FLOREN

TINO, Manolo. Em costas negras: uma histó-

ria do tráﬁco de escravos entre a África e o Rio

de Janeiro: séculos XVIII e XIX. São Paulo:

Companhia das Letras, 1997.; RODRIGUES,

Jaime. De costa a costa: escravos, marinheiros

e intermediários do tráﬁco de Angola ao Rio

de Janeiro (1780-1860). São Paulo: Companhia

das Letras, 2005.

BOUDRIOT, Jean. Traite et navire négrier:

l’Aurore (1784). Paris: Ancre, 1984.

BETHELL, Leslie. A abolição do tráﬁco de

escravos no Brasil. São Paulo: Edusp, 1976,

p. 349.

GALINDO, José E. R. Guia dos Naufrágios

da Baía de Ilha Grande. São Paulo: Um, 2001.

BASS, George F. Arqueologia subaquática.

Lisboa: Verbo, 1969; HOFFMANN, Ga

brielle. Mundos submergidos: una historia de

la arqueología submarina. Barcelona: Planeta,

1987; RAMBELLI, Gilson. Arqueologia até

debaixo d’água. São Paulo: Maranta, 2002;

RAMBELLI, Gilson. Arqueologia subaquá

tica do Baixo Vale do Ribeira, 2003.

MCGRAIL, Sean. Studies in Maritime Ar-

chaeology. Oxford: British Archaeological

Reports, 1997; BLOT, Jean-Yves. O mar de

Keith Muckelroy: o papel da teoria na arque

ologia do mundo náutico. Al-Madan, Almada,

Centro de Arqueologia, Série 2, n. 8, p. 41-55,

out. 1999; RAMBELLI, Gilson. Arqueologia

subaquática do Baixo Vale do Ribeira, 2003.

DIEGUES, Antonio Carlos. Ilhas e mares:

simbolismo e imaginário. São Paulo: Hucitec,

1998,p.58.

READ, J. The Indian Ocean in Antiquity,

London: New York, 1996; BLOT, Jean-Yves.

O mar de Keith Muckelroy: o papel da teoria

na arqueologia do mundo náutico. Al-Madan,

Almada, Centro de Arqueologia, Série 2, n.

8, p. 41-55, out. 1999; RAMBELLI, Gilson,

2003; e RAMBELLI, Gilson, “Reflexões

sobre o patrimônio cultural subaquático e a

Arqueologia”. In: Os caminhos do patrimônio

no Brasil. (Org: Manuel Ferreira Lima Filho e

Marcia Bezerra). Goiânia: Alternativa, 2006,

p.153-69.

FUNARI, Pedro Paulo Abreu & CARVA-

LHO, Aline Vieira de, 2005, p.47.

See RAMBELLI, Gilson, 2002.

FUNARI, Pedro Paulo Abreu & CARVA-

LHO, Aline Vieira de, 2005, p.47.

FUNARI, Pedro Paulo Abreu & CARVA-

LHO, Aline Vieira de, 2005.

NASCIMENTO, Abdias do. O quilombismo.

Petrópolis: Vozes, 1980, p.11.

Angelo Agostini: Art criticism,

politics and culture in Brazil

during the Second Empire

Rosangela de Jesus Silva

PhD student in Art History, IFCH/Unicamp

Angelo Agostini: a biography

As Joaquim Nabuco

tells us, Ago-

stini was an idealist. Although he was

not committed to institutional political

practice, he was interested in the ef

fects of this practice on the reality of

people’s lives: “... Angelo Agostini had

the good fortune of being what may be

deﬁned in matters of liberalism a well

balanced character, of those who love

freedom not for the word, but for the

thing itself, not for the doctrine, but for

the fact, and, above all, not for oneself,

but for the others ...”.

J. Bocó, a journalist from the mag-

azine O Malho, - the last journal with

which Agostini has collaborated – has

drawn the following opinion about the

artist’s work: “without his memorable

drawings, that followed his combative

spirit, the sarcasm against the exoticism

of the institution that ‘fortunately pre

vailed’ and the attacks against the genu

ine slave-owners wouldn’t have the pen-

etration they have had amidst the large

popular sectors, aligning them spiritually

with the great cause of freedom”.

On the other hand, the Gazeta Artís-

tica in 1910 – the year of the passing of

Agostini - was not as generous in its

appreciation:

It is blatant that Agostini could not dedicate

himself seriously to the study of Art, to which

his unset and lively spirit inclined him to…

Angelo Agostini could never perfect himself in

the technique of the processes and in Theory of

Art. Therefore all of his works resent from this

artistic culture deﬁciency….

... Ângelo Agostini has always been a

mediocre drawer. His caricatures were almost

always reduced to the plain portrait, with the

occasional precision of a photographic plate, but

inexpressive, silent in the stillness and ﬁdelity

of the physiognomic traces… The success of his

caricature was in the sayings that accompa

nied the drawings. He never went beyond the

criticism of concrete facts, up to the point of

a general abstraction, of the symbolism that

condensates and integrates a critical apprecia

tion, deﬁning the social tendencies of a setting,

of an age, of a civilization. The deﬁciency of

the drawing and poorness of the composition

would not allow him, even if he wanted, to

rise up to the deed of this artistic conception

of caricature.

The information gathered about

Agostini are very fragmented, and most

of the times, come in a very ﬂattering

tone – with a few exceptions as the

text above, that points out ﬂaws in the

artist’s formation at the same time it

contests his talent, so praised by other

sources. Even though the mentioned

article was even aggressive towards

RHAA 6 237

Traduções/Translations

the artist, it nevertheless regards him

as someone who had been involved

with the artistic milieu. Nonetheless,

as a man of the Press who had liberal

and abolitionist opinions and a critic of

the teaching methods of the Imperial

Academy, Agostini had several enemies

– a fact easily noticed though the dis

cussions entailed in the pages of the

journals he has worked for.

For myself, being in Brazil since 1859, and

having solely this audience to evaluate my work,

I am very recognized for the good welcome I’ve

always been given. I am certain, however, that

if I’d followed the recommendation of the illus

trious journalist and went to Pariz, I would

likely meet the same kind of acceptance. I can’t

see why the audience there would be better that

the one we ﬁnd here. The caricature is not an

Art that requires great special knowledge to

be understood and appreciated...

The excerpt above is an answer by

Angelo Agostini to Ferreira de Men

eses, from the Jornal do Commercio, who

was protesting against an alleged bold

ness of the critic enterprise of foreign

caricaturists in Brazil, namely Angelo

Agostini, Luigi Borgomainerio and Ra

fael Bordalo Pinheiro.

Besides illustrating Agostini’s re-

sponse, this excerpt provides us con

crete information: the year that the

artist arrived in Brazil. As we’ve men

tioned earlier, his biography is full of

gaps. Therefore, if we are to know a

little of Agostini’s trajectory, we’ve had

to dig for scattered data and compare

them in order to compose his biog

raphy – which includes conflicting

information starting from the artist’s

date of birth. Carlos Cavalcanti, in his

Dicion

ário brasileiro de artistas plásticos,

informs us that the Agostini was born

in 1843 in the Italian city of Vercelli.

But João Francisco Velho Sobrinho, in

his Dicion

ário Bio-Bibliográﬁco,

states that

the artist was born in 1842, in Farcelle.

There are sources which support either

one or the other biographer. Nonethe

less, all of them agree that his birthday

was in an April 8th in Italy.

Our path has indicated that Agostini

lived for a short time in Italy and had

been for more than ten years in France,

with his grandmother, before coming

to Brazil. There, for what is known, he

would have started his artistic forma

tion. We couldn’t ﬁnd any documents

or reports of the artist to corroborate

this information. However, it might be

interesting to consider the intriguing

story of the character Cabrião (cre

ated by Ângelo Agostini in 1866), in a

homonymic journal, the second paper

in which he took part in São Paulo af

ter Diabo Coxo. Antonio Cagnin, who

made studies about Agostini, made the

following statement:

The symbol ﬁgure portrayed in the paper

Cabrião, as all evidences seem to indicate, is

the self-caricature of Ângelo Agostini. What is

still to be found out, more as a curious fact, is

if at that time Agostini had already worn the

same “pointy beard” and moustache to imitate

the looks of the character portrayed in the novel,

if he adopted this appearance when he found

out his physical and spiritual identity with the

character or if he did it later, to embody the

symbol of the paper. Anyway, it was a perfect

symbiosis, between Cabrião/Agostini, carica

ture/caricaturist, le genie infernal du peintre,

which was present on the pages of the Cabrião

every week, in satires and caricatures, mocking

the politicians and the society of São Paulo.

O Cabrião, which is committed to

say the truth, is an attentive and criti

cal observer of the political, religious,

cultural and social events of the still

incipient city of São Paulo.

The character eventually was given

a biography, described in a few editions

of the journal. Could Agostini have lent

the character some elements of his own

biography? Perhaps. As a foreigner still

in the beginning of his career, he could

have found in his character a way of

introducing himself to the audience and

to gain its sympathy, assuring his place

in the press.

Theses approximations we’ve dared

to make above might be mere specula

tion. However, the literary work can also

have an historic function. According to

Antonio Candido, we should “... take

into account, thus, one level of reality

and one level of elaboration of reality,

and also the difference o the perspective

of the contemporaries of the piece of

work, including the author, and of the

posterity it entails, determining historical

variations of function in a structure that

remains aesthetically invariable ...”

Let’s see a few excerpts of this biog-

raphy: “... I declare to this generation

and to posterity that I am an authentic

Parisian, a Parisian of body and soul.

I speak French, a lot better than any

son of the Great Britain, and Portu

guese – a lot better than Mr. Mancille,

even though I haven’t taken an exam to

teach, either because of the disciples or

because of the government”.

The irony is a very remarkable trace

of Agostini’s work that shall remain.

Wouldn’t this be the assertion of a

foreigner that has adopted France as

his fatherland? If we consider the ef

fervescent Paris of those days, of the

importance of the press and its huge

development, there would be nothing

better for someone initiating in this mi

lieu than claiming to be a son of this

revolutionary glorious country.

During the ﬁrst half of the 19

cen-

tury, Paris faced a great increase in its

population, which has migrated from

the country zone to the urban area. In

less than ﬁfty years, the city that by

1800 had about 600 thousand people

reaches 1 million people.

It was during the second Empire

(1852-1870) that Paris started to change

to its present features. Napoleon III

entitled George Haussmann with the

responsibility to transform Paris into a

modern capital city, with the creation

of parks and gardens, a sewage system,

theatres, hospitals and the administra

tive division it has nowadays. Agostini

followed closely many of these changes

that modernized the old Paris.

The period he lived in Paris was very

fertile for the formation of artists. The

238 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

city was a central cultural marking

point in Europe, and a reference for

many artists. The papers that published

caricatures also ﬂourished; and to pick

one of them out was difﬁcult. There

fore, at a very young age, Agostini has

circulated within this environment,

which must have certainly had inﬂu

ence on the development of his work.

... by the time when I was 14 years of

age, I had the same practical knowledge of life

than a society man, a son of a [good] family

by his 20s...

From that age I carried the seeds of some

virtues, that later transformed me from a boy

into a ﬁne man: the great sensitivity cultivated

in my spirit for the love, almost fanaticism

inspired in me by the melancholic ﬁgure of my

mother: the mysterious rapture that dragged me

towards Beauty and all the Arts in all of their

forms: and ﬁnally, the deep hatred I devoted to

hypocrisy, to superstition, to the robe and to

the poisonous Jesuitism – all of which I saw

in the frightening and sinister image of the

drunk and corpulent being that fathered me

by the means of a crime.

We can notice at the beginning of

the excerpt a statement of an increased

maturity on behalf of the subject of the

biography, who states having gained

knowledge and experience that would

be beyond his biological development.

It’s known that Agostini had come to

Brazil at a very young age and, in all

biographical references, there’s infor

mation that he has arrived here already

with an artistic formation. This state

ment of maturity does not contradict

his biographers.

Later, Cabrião speaks of his spirit,

inclined to the Arts and points out to

the possible inﬂuence of his mother.

Raquel Agostini, who was a lyric singer,

might have probably provided a very

rich artistic environment to her son,

even though she was occasionally ab

sent, touring.

Cabrião makes a very negative refer

ence to his father ﬁgure, who would

have been a priest, and say that it’s from

him that he inherited his hatred for

the Church and for injustice. We don’t

have much information about Antônio

Agostini, the artist’s father. He would

have been a violinist who passed away

very early, depriving Agostini, still a

kid, from the company of the presence

his father.

... I have made myself a man and an artist,

a great artist, without the help of anyone else.

... It’s curious the way I’ve made myself

a useful man, ﬁnding me a job in a painting

workshop, in Pariz. That’s how it happened:

On the surroundings of my mother’s convent,

there was a drawing workshop. The master was

a grotesque ﬁgure, worthy of Hoffman’s crayon,

a living caricature, a fantastic being, a superb

character that when I saw him, immediately

woke up in me the humoristic genius, the cari

caturist skill that was dormant in my soul...

... The old painter, my ﬁrst victim, instead

of being angry with my pranks, tried to get to

know me, and declared he was ready to welcome

me into his shop, and to tech me how to draw,

because he saw in me an useful talent, etc, etc.

I accepted the offer, worked, and in a brief

period of time was the trusted disciple of the

good old man that had opened his arms to

me. By my 20s I was already an artist, had

a profession and the independent life of all of

those who work.

It is very curious the way the char-

acter describes his artistic initiation,

his “gift” for caricature and his brief

stay in an atelier. Cabrião attributes

an almost complete autonomy to his

formation, with the exception of this

painter whose name is not informed,

who would have believed in his poten

tial and offered him some space, mate

rial and knowledge.

According to our sources, Agostini

doesn’t make any reference to his edu

cation or to his inﬂuences. Although

he hasn’t stated anything about it, he

appears almost as an autodidactic artist.

Even the dictionaries and biographical

articles speak of Agostini as a master,

and say nothing about his formation. In

an interview, his granddaughter Mari

ana Villalba Alvim

says that her grand-

father sent a determined sum of money

to an old master painter in France, what

is another clue about Agostini.

The reason why Agostini came to

Brazil is not clear. We know that his

mother married the Portuguese journal

ist Antônio Pedro Marques de Almeida

and that the family has settled in Brazil.

Agostini arrived in Rio de Janeiro in

the company of his mother and, a short

time after, went to São Paulo.

In another passage of Cabrião’s story,

his explanation about why he came to

Brazil was the following: “... the Amer

ica was then the monomania of almost

every Parisian. To me, it was even more:

my artist’s dream, my future”.

After Agostini’s artistic initiation

in Paris, why not trying the luck in a

young country, whose artistic activity

was still very little and where new col

laborations could be very welcomed?

In Brazil, Agostini found a scenery

marked by colonial formation, with

slavery, epidemic outbreaks, a poorly de

veloped press and a still very precarious

and restricted cultural life, very differ

ent from the French settings, but a very

fertile terrain for his sharp pencil.

Agostini at the Press

We don’t know much about the ﬁrst

years of Agostini in São Paulo. There’s

an information, not conﬁrmed by docu

ments, that he would have worked as a

foreman in the construction of a road,

that linked Mauá- Raiz da Serra railway

terminal to the city of Juiz de Fora, in

Minas Gerais. If he took part in this

work, he didn’t prosper nor left any

marks. . His life activity that has been

registered in the history of Brazil has oc

curred in the press, more precisely since

September of 1864, at the journal Diabo

Coxo. This magazine represented a new

enterprise in the press of São Paulo due

to its format, which gave great promi

nence for caricature. From its eight pages,

four were left to caricature. This kind of

RHAA 6 239

Traduções/Translations

journal, with emphasis on illustrations,

became popular years later in Brazil and

was the kind of the other magazines in

which Agostini has worked.

The magazine was written by Luis

Gama, a former slave, an abolitionist

and a liberal, with the collaboration of

Sizenando Nabuco

– younger brother

of the defender of the abolitionist cause

Joaquim Nabuco – and, of course, An

gelo Agostini. This journal had a short

life span, having ceased its activities in

December of 1865.

We believe that during these ﬁrst

years Agostini’s political ideas began

to take impulse. His newspaper’s col

leagues Luís Gama e Sizenando Nabuco

took very assertive anti-slavery stances.

Luís Gama had felt the rigors of slavery

on his own skin, even though he was

son of a white Portuguese. As soon as

he conquered his freedom in 1848, he

began to ﬁght for the liberation of the

black slaves. He was also the oldest in

the group: at the age of 34 he was a

man with enough social and political

experience to plant in youngsters as

Agostini the seeds of abolitionism and

liberalism.

By that time São Paulo was still

a very small province, without great

representation in the national political

scenery. In the beginning of 1860, São

Paulo had fewer than 30 thousand in

habitants, less than 50 streets and only

one theatre. Its greatest feature was the

Law School, with a little more than ﬁve

hundred students, but and institution

that formed men who had great rel

evance in the history of the country.

Through the Law School halls have

passed great idealists of the abolition

ist and the republican causes, as well as

exponents of Brazilian literature.

The Law School was a centre of

dissemination of new ideas and of the

education of the future government

employees. Names such as Joaquim

Nabuco, Aluízio Azevedo, Castro

Alves, Rui Barbosa, Fagundes Varela,

Prudente de Moraes, Bernardino de

Campos, among others, had the oppor

tunity of debating and deepen essential

fundamental issues of the country.

In September of 1866, Agostini,

Américo de Campos

and Antônio

Manuel dos Reis

have founded the

Cabri

ão, a journal that followed the

same editorial line of the former one,

whose most relevant features were hu

mor and caricature. According to Délio

Freire dos Santos, the Cabri

ão “was in-

contestably the most well known jour

nal of humor and caricature ever edited

in São Paulo during the Empire”.

Its attitude has always been critical,

without leaving aside information and

entertainment. The Paraguai War was

a theme the journal has intensively ex

plored, praising the patriotism of the

soldiers at the same time it criticized

the way of recruiting the volunteers. Ac

cording to several historians, the Para

guai War was a very important factor in

the disintegration of the Empire.

The image of D. Pedro II has always

been respected during these ﬁrst years

– something that wouldn’t continue

in Agostini’s work in Rio de Janeiro.

There the Emperor would be the tar

get of much criticism through jesting

caricatures.

The editorial line of the Cabri

ão re-

mained abolitionist, liberal and with

Republican ideas.

Years later, Agostini would nostalgi

cally recall the beginnings of his work

and the colleagues at the Cabri

ão:

It was with me that Américo de Campos

made his debut in the press in 1866 at the il

lustrated paper Cabrião. We understood each

other immediately. As we both were men of

ﬁrm character and, it could be said, tempered

as the ﬁnest steel, we’ve undertaken a genre of

publication that was then a little known and

a pretty risky.

Dr. Antonio Manuel dos Reis, , was also

our companion, and a good person, but quite

sanctimonious, who ﬁnally left the paper after

some heated discussions with me, because I’d been

painting some priests in the paper and Saint Pe

ter with a pipe on his mouth – which entertained

Américo very much, who laughed a lot.

The Cabrião faced ﬁnancial problems.

Besides that, the journal was prosecuted

and had its ofﬁce plundered. It eventu

ally ceased to be published in 1867. On

the same year Agostini went to Rio de

Janeiro and started to work at O Arlequim,

a journal who had several owners, pass

ing through more or less conservative

phases. Its name has also been changed

several times. It was born as Bazar Vol

ante and thus was named between 1863

and 1867. On that last year it becomes O

Arlequim, where the caricaturists Joseph

Mill,

V. Mola

and Flumen Junius,

who were all Angelo Agostini’s work

colleagues, have worked.

In 1868 it is named Vida Fluminense,

when Agostini takes up its artistic direc

tion (a position he has occupied until

1871). Cândido Aragonês de Faria,

Luigi Borgomainerio, João Pinheiro

Guimarães,

V. Mola and Antônio

Vale

have passed through the maga-

zine. We observe that in these magazines

the contact between the caricaturists is

strongly present. Many of them main

tained several artists at work at the same

time, each one of them held responsible

for one part of the illustrations.

In 1876 Vida Fluminense was named

O F

ígaro and, in 1878, recieved the name

A Lanterna, ceasing its activities that

same year.

In 1872, Agostini went to the Mos

quito, which existed between 1869 and

1877. This criticism and caricature

paper belonged to Manoel Rodrigues

Carneiro Jr., founder of the Gazeta de

Not

ícias. The caricaturists Pinheiro

Guimarães, Faria and Bordalo Pinheiro

have also worked there.

It’s in this magazine that the ﬁrst

caricatures by Agostini that com

mented on the Exhibition of Fine Arts

of the Academy of 1872 were displayed.

The artists reproduced drawings of the

works exhibited followed by comments

on the pieces.

240 RHAA 6

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In 1876 Angelo Agostini founded

the Revista Illustrada, which was con

sidered his greatest work and was al

ready praised by his contemporaries,

as Joaquim Nabuco, who called it an

abolitionist bible, and even by others, as

Herman Lima, who conducted a careful

study about caricaturists in Brazil, and

Monteiro Lobato, an important icon in

Brazilian literature who compared Ago

stini’s magazine in documental impor

tance to the works of Debret and Rug

endas, besides considering the artist the

greatest talent in caricature in Brazil.

It is precisely this journal that con

centrates the most part of the criticism

and the artist’s drawings related to the

Brazilian artistic phenomena. It is also

the journal that was headed by Agos

tini for the longest period of time: un

til 1888 the magazine was of his entire

responsibility.

The pages of Revista Illustrada have

staged major discussions about national

issues, of the denunciation of violence

against black people, of the presenta

tion of a new social and political project

for Brazil, based in a liberal republican

regime, of changes in the artistic scene,

of the consolidation of artists, among

several other issues – all of it in the

broadest manner possible, facilitated by

the didactics of the illustrations. Ac

cording to Werneck Sodré this was one

of the reasons of the great success of

the magazine.

... Evidently, it wasn’t about providing well

done engravings, or it wasn’t just about that:

it was fundamental that they were connected

to national reality, that the audience could see

itself through them, could ﬁnd what they wanted

and what was interesting to them. In a period

of crescent agitation, when the great issues that

would shake down the regime were surfacing,

when essential or important matters were be

ing discussed, it was required to amplify the

inﬂuence, not restricting it to the cultivated,

intellectualized, wealthy element.

By the end of 1888, Agostini would

have divorced the Portuguese D. Maria

Palha, his ﬁrst wife, and left to Europe

with his former student Abigail de An

drade, the daughter of an important

farmer form the region of Vassouras

– redoubt of conservatives and slave

owners who had been severely attacked

by Agostini through his magazine. In

Brazil, Abigail gave birth to Angelina

Agostini, after what she would have

left to Paris, pregnant once again with

an artist’s child. There, a boy named

Ângelo would have been born, dying

shortly after, followed by his mother.

Angelo Agostini remained in Europe

until 1894, when he came back to Bra

zil, and didn’t return to the Revista Il

lustrada, which has been sold to Luís de

Andrade

in November of that same

year. An old collaborator, Andrade had

taken up the direction of the magazine

when Agostini left, and remained in

that post until 1898, the last year of

publication of the journal.

We don’t have the complete list

of the collaborators of the magazine,

but we know that among them were

– besides Luís de Andrade, mentioned

above – Artur de Miranda, José Ribeiro

Dantas Jr. and Pereira Netto, a disciple

of Agostini who took over the illustra

tion of the magazine after the depar

ture of his master.

When Agostini left to Europe, he

had a broad circle of friends. This in

formation comes from a note published

by the Revista Illustrada that enlists some

of these friends who were present on

the event of his boarding. Among these

names are artists, literates, politicians

and traders, besides, of course, active

members of the abolitionist movement,

such as the president of the Abolitionist

Confederation João Clapp, among other

less known characters as Seixas Magal

hães, who kept in his property in Leblon

a quilombo responsible for the production

of camellias – the symbol ﬂower of the

abolitionist movement – which even

supplied the imperial palace.

Among these good friends we’ve noticed Dr.

Joaquim Nabuco, Mr. João Clapp, Mr. José do

Patrocínio, Dr. Monteiro de Azevedo, Baron of

Jaceguay, Dr. Demerval da Fonseca, Mr. Ro

dolpho Bernardelli, Mr. Zeferino da Costa, Mr.

Insley Pacheco, Dr. Álvaro Alvim, Mr. Seixas

Magalhães, Mr. Antonio Andrade, Mr. Ignacio

Doellinger, Mr. Paula Ney, Mr. Bento Barbosa,

Mr. Augusto Ribeiro, Mr. Eduardo Agostini,

all the staff of Revista Illustrada, and still other

people, whose names we can’t recall.

With Agostini’s departure, the mag-

azine lost much of its combativeness

and originality. In 1889, with the ad

vent of the so acclaimed Republic, the

magazine becomes partial towards the

new regime, always acting to applause

the new government without formu

lating critical considerations, or often,

remaining silent.

Our artist’s stay in Europe is another

gap we’re not able to ﬁll in. We might

suspect that due to the circumstances

in which he left Brazil, he may have

made enemies of great inﬂuence and,

therefore, it might have been conven-

ient to stay away for a while. An excerpt

of one of his letters, published at the

Illustrada seems to corroborate this hy

pothesis: “I don’t know if I will be able

to come back next winter, but, as soon

as possible, I will follow there, anxious

to meet again all of these good friends

from the difﬁcult times. Besides that,

I miss very much our country – now

twice as free – where I’ve spent the best

days of my life.”

Another suspicion is that Agostini

may have employed his stay in Paris to

dedicate himself to painting – an ac

tivity the artist has never abandoned.

When he returned to Brazil, Agostini

took part from 1895 until 1909, almost

without interruption, of all of the gen

eral exhibitions of the National School

of ﬁne Arts.

In 1895 he founded the D. Quixote.

Would Agostini now feel he was the lone

ranger, ﬁghting the invincible windmills

as in Cervantes’ story? His ideals of a

Republic weren’t fulﬁlled, and the abo

lition of slavery didn’t result in much

social progress. Facing this new politi

cal setting and after several years away

RHAA 6 241

Traduções/Translations

from the country, his prestige wasn’t the

same anymore, but he still believed in

the power of the press.

The magazine lasted until 1903, but

lacked the same success of the previous

publication. After this enterprise, Ago

stini would only collaborate with other

journals, such as O Tico tico, a children’s

magazine published between 1905 and

1959, founded by Luís Bartolomeu. He

has also collaborated with

O Malho, a

magazine founded in 1902 that would

last through the ﬁrst half of the 20th

century, ceasing its activities in 1954.

In this journal Agostini has published

his last works, a proof that he already

wasn’t as renowned as the great man of

combat he once was. He also lacked the

space in the press and the recognition

of the Republic he had fought for.

The man who had played that most impor

tant role, that was a potential individuality in

solving the national problem of the abolition

of the slaves and in the demolishing criticism

of the wrongs and shames of the past regimen,

has died a poor man, deprived of any ofﬁcial

assistance and, on the event of his funeral, not

even one representative of the Republic authori

ties was present, of that same Republic which

had been the direct consequence of the abolition

[of the slavery]...

Agostini and the Art Criticism

The criticism Angelo Agostini made

through the caricatures and text shows

us the great uneasiness of the artist to

wards the ﬁne arts. His political con

cerns permeate all of his work and give

the tone of his opinions. Something

that as never been noticed before in

this work by Agostini is, precisely, his

political militancy, his not-exemption.

The politics was a constitutive part

of everything Agostini did. Even tough

he never assumed an institutional polit

ical position, he expressed through his

work clear anti-empire and anti-slav

ery beliefs. Therefore, the institutions

linked to the Empire or that defended

the actions of the government weren’t

seen with good eyes by the critic. This

is the case, for example, of the Imperial

Academy of Fine Arts (IAFA). Its part

nership with the Imperial government

would immediately link it to backward

ness and injustice – characteristics com

monly imputed to the government.

One of the main reasons that made

Agostini to see backwardness and back

lash in the IAFA was, precisely, its con

nection to the imperial government,

which, according to the critic, besides

being the great responsible for the hin

drance of the country’s progress, would

also demand the production of an art

that would advertise for the Empire.

However, it was under this “authoritar

ian” government that journals like the

Illustrada could exercise their “freedom”

of criticize and contest the government

and the Imperial Academy. Wouldn’t we

arrive here at a paradox? Or, perhaps,

would the silence of Agostini about con

tradictions like this one reveal a political

stance of choice and discourse?

In his art criticism, Angelo Agos

tini put forward many issues raised by

Gonzaga Duque, who is regarded as the

major Brazilian critic of the 19

century.

Among the frequent statements are the

importance of studying in the perfect

ing of the artist and the little favorable

conditions met in Brazil. On the fol

lowing excerpt by Gonzaga Duque,

highlighted by Chiarelli in the Intro

duction of A arte brasileira, this connec

tion is clear: “... In a country under the

same circumstances in which Brazil is

at present, only a long period of studies

and much meditation can make the art

ist rise up to his deserved place of giving

him the elements for his independence

of thought and action”.

In Agostini’s statements it’s com-

mon to observe his disillusion with

Brazilian artistic environment, which is

considered very poor, and his constant

exhortation to the artists to study and

perfect themselves in order to produce

independently, away from the Academy.

The critic always mentioned to the art

ists who have improved themselves,

as Henrique Bernardelli and Firmino

Monteiro. He also advised the artist,

when commenting on a speciﬁc work,

to apply himself to studying more, be

cause this would be the only way to cor

rect some ﬂaws. That’s the case, for ex

ample, of the painter Castagnetto, who

had a work exhibited at Ouvidor Street

in 1887 – considered a monarchist re

doubt at the time –, who, without be

ing named, received from the critic the

following advisement: “Do everything

possible to leave Rio de Janeiro and go

to Italy to study. And after studying a

great deal, you shall see that you still

have a lot to learn, but will be painting

a hundred times better than today”.

Agostini took very ﬁrm stances to-

wards artistic phenomena. In an article

entitled Palestra, the critic comments on

the status of ﬁne arts at the time:

In all respects, the situation of the artists

in Brazil is lamentable.

The audience, rather unprepared to the

artistic movement, not always give the artists

the subsidy they’re worthy of, and that are in

dispensable for their lives.

The State, when spending some, is always

moved by political spirit and for pledges.

There’s a permanent crisis that obligates the

artists to abandon their ideals, to travel as ped

dlers and to take care of works for commission

instead of works of art.

It’s interesting to observe that the

analysis of the situation doesn’t ignore

the public sphere, essential for an en

largement of the art market. Perhaps

that’s the reason why Agostini was so

careful in divulging works of art on the

magazine, in order to make them reach

the largest number of people. The way

in which Agostini presents his criticism

is also a way of educating the gaze and

the opinion of the public. The critic

teaches them ways to see art.

He also analyses the role of the gov

ernment, rendered as modest, but the

single one, and yet conducted by in

terests beyond the artistic ﬁeld. That’s

242 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

the reason why such a little number of

artists could engage themselves in a

promising career.

As it must be clear at this point, the

greatest target of Agostini’s criticism

was the Academy of Fine Arts and all

it represented. According to the critic, it

was a vicious, corrupt and reactionary

institution. Its problems ranged from the

teaching staff, regarded as weak and un

prepared, passing through the teaching

methods employed to the organizational

and physical structure of the institution.

Agostini even claims that anyone who

truly wanted to learn should run away

from the academy or never would man

age to become a real artist.

Agostini’s criticism, besides target

ing the academy, also touched the issue

of the art criticism of that moment, as

well as the artists and their produc

tion. His opinions vary form a certain

humor, occasionally permeated by ac

ridness and great freedom to mention

artists and pieces he may or not have

liked, besides his great irony.

Regarding art criticism, Agostini’s

opinion was very severe. According to

him, the criticism was not constructive.

It was made either to unconditionally

praise the artists, or, on the contrary, to

destroy the possibilities around them.

In short, it was a criticism without

measure or limits of good sense.

Concerning the works of art, his

criticism consisted in either appreciat

ing them or not; however, he always

considered the artist’s trajectory in his

evaluation. He usually made a comment

on how the artist had made some good

pieces, but didn’t succeed in that partic

ular case. Or, on the contrary, that the

artist had made progress and had a great

future. There were, still, those who had

always been considered great artists and

whose every new piece only added to

their talent, and also those considered

incapable of the artist’s role.

Here we face another paradox in

Agostini’s reﬂections. The critic has

always enforced the idea that an art

ists education required a great deal of

study and, to accomplish that, he rec

ommended art centers such as Italy,

regarding the IAFA a completely in

capable teaching facility. However, if

it is the study that prepares the artist,

how was it possible that there were

some individuals rendered incapable

do exercise that job? Would be a “gift”

be needed in order to be lapidated by

studying? How would it be possible,

then, to determine who might possess

such a “gift”?

According to the critic, the ﬁne-arts

had already reached such a complicated

and difﬁcult stage that a wide and radi

cal reformulation would be required.

... But it is necessary, indispensable a com

plete reform, a replacement of the teaching fac

ulty; because whenever the students have paint

ing professors who don’t understand drawing,

landscape professors that don’t understand na

ture, sculpture professors that have no notion of

art and architecture professors that are retired

masons, the academic teaching will be forcibly

harmful, corruptive and fatal to the arts.

Agostini has also used the pages of

his Revista Illustrada to call the attention

to pieces of art and artist he considered

valuable and talented, creating a coun

terpoint to the ofﬁcial artists as Pedro

Américo and, mostly, Victor Meirelles

– who was the greatest representative

of the ofﬁcial art. Not only Meireles

never had a single note of appraisal by

the critic from the Illustrada, but, on

the contrary, has been the target of the

most caustic comments, as we can see

in Agostini’s opinion about Meirelles

project of making a landscape of Rio de

Janeiro. “We make vows, then, that this

unfortunate and panoramic idea doesn’t

go any further; we can’t sanction with

our support a subscription that demands

a fabulous amount for the execution of

one of the greatest foolishness possible,

and that might only serve to expose us

to ridiculousness overseas”.

As opposed to what is noticed about

Victor Meirelles, the greatest example

of an artist, the one who should be

followed, was for the critic the sculp

tor Rodolpho Bernardelli, who had his

image associated with true art, with the

most sublime production of an artist.

Bernardelli was the “great genius artist”

for Agostini.

It’s certain that there was a great

friendship between both of them, what

could justify, in part, the promotion of

the artist’s image. But it’s certainly a

relationship that surpasses the purely

personal sphere, since Bernardelli has

been elected by the critic as an alterna

tive to the Academy of Fine Arts, as

its greatest counterpoint, an example

endowed with all the virtues of a great

artist. During the period when Agostini

had been ahead of the Revista Illustrada,

the sculptor had his entire trajectory

followed and divulged, in images and

in text.

Until today, however, the sculpture has only

given signs of life in countries ﬁlled with artistic

tradition, where the cultivation of beauty passes

from generation to generation through a phe

nomenon of hereditariness, where it’s possible to

say that’s a component of the popular blood.

We didn’t know of any young country, disor

ganized, in a thrilling evolution which suddenly,

as in a bold answer to those that rendered the

holy art as a monopoly of the ancient nations,

could reach out its arms to Greece or Italy. This

honorable originality belongs to us, so may it

come, at least, to compensate the patriotism of

so many disappointments!

The portrait by Bernardelli was

also the one who received the greatest

attention among so many others di

vulged by the magazine. His ﬁgure, in

the form of a bust, was printed among

some of his most expressive works

until that date (1885): A faceira, Santo

Estev

ão, Busto em bronze of the doctor

Montenovesi and the Christo e a mulher

adultera. The lithography takes up the

two central pages of the magazine.

Furthermore, a series of three articles

bearing the name of the sculptor as

the title was dedicated to him, besides

many other notes and quotes.

RHAA 6 243

Traduções/Translations

Although Rodolpho Bernardelli has

been the critic’s most praised and privi

leged artist, others have also deserved

laudatory notes by the critic, being

among them Firmino Monteiro, Ar

sênio Silva, Luigi Borgomainerio, Hen

rique Bernardelli and Georg Grimm.

Borgomainerio was respected by

Angelo Agostini, who recognized in

him a master, someone to be followed;

besides that, the caricaturist, painter

and drawer had –as well as Agostini

and his colleague Bordalo Pinheiro – a

strong anticlerical activity. The work

of these caricaturists was similar in its

satiric tone, which they mastered with

great agility.

In his Hist

ória da caricatura no Brasil,

Herman Lima highlights many quali

ties of Borgomainerio, comparing him

to Bordalo Pinheiro for his great tech

nical domain of caricature drawing.

“In fact, the Italian caricaturists was

distinguished from all others artists of

the genre, who had appeared among us

until that time, not only for the perfec

tion and originality of his cartoons,

which the lithographic work went side

by side with the drawing, as in a spe

cial verve, a satiric tone never seen in

Brazilian journalism before”.

Borgomainerio has acted in Brazil

for a short period. He arrived here in

1874 to work in the Vida Fluminense

and eventually passed away in 1876,

already working at the journal

O Fí-

garo, victim of a yellow fever epidemic

– something quite common in Bra

zil at the time. The artist had already

worked for successful humoristic pa

pers in Europe, such as Spirito Folleto

and Meﬁst

ófeles from Naples, Pasquinho

from Turin and Fischieto from Milan.

He had an excellent control over the

drawing technique and has even been

compared to Gavarni

by the Gazeta

de Not

ícias, such was the recognition of

his work by the press.

Agostini has observed and recognized

Firmino Monteiro’s trajectory. Monteiro

was born in Rio de Janeiro in 1855, stud

ied at IAFA, was a student of Zeferino

da Costa and Victor Meirelles, among

others. He spent some time advancing

his studies in Europe, something that

was highly valued by Agostini, who, at

a certain point, said that the artist had

great merit in achieving his freedom

from the precepts of the Academy. The

artist took part in a few general exhibi

tions and was dedicated to the painting

of landscapes, historical painting and

painting of genre. In 1882 he had his

portrait printed on the ﬁrst page of the

Revista Illustrada. His portrait was made

as a bust with a palette and brushes at his

right and vegetation at the back.

On the same edition of the maga

zine there’s a text that highlights his

work ethics, his great dedication to his

art, his energy, his conﬁdence and his

satisfaction in being an artist.

... Very much on the contrary of the idle

habit of the most part of our artists, Mr.

Firmino doesn’t weep for his luck as an artist

nor complains about the lack of taste of the

audience, neither courses the moment he became

a painter...

The temper of the artist was very

valued there. It’s worthy to remember

that, at that point, he had painted the

picture Fundação da cidade do Rio de Ja

neiro, what is mentioned in the text and

clearly makes reference to Primeira missa

by Victor Meirelles. Maybe there is a

questioning about Meirelles work that,

as mentioned earlier, wasn’t appreciated

by Agostini.

Arsênio Silva was the introducer

of the gouache technique, unknown

or not employed in Brazil until that

moment. This had granted him great

prestige, although later the artist has

died, almost forgotten.

It’s precisely on the year of his death

that the photographer Insley Pacheco

promoted an exhibition of Arsênio’s

artwork, an occasion in which the critic

of the Illustrada rendered him homage

and recognized the initiative of Pa

checo’s work.

Georg Grimm was remembered

several times by the critic of Illustrada,

whether by exhibition’s announce

ments, by comments on exhibited art

pieces or even by the approval of the

artist’s teaching methods, the painting

of landscapes “en plein air”. The quality

Agostini most valued in Grimm was

certainly his activity as a professor.

Georg Grimm, specialized in land

scapes and founder of the Grimm

Group, adopted an innovative posture

in the teaching of landscapes when he

took the students out of the atelier and

put them to observe nature and paint

“en plein air”. He has also been a profes-

sor of landscapes at the Academy for a

short period of time, but sufﬁcient to

win the critic’s support.

The prominence of this artist in

Brazil began in 1882, when more of

than a hundred of his pieces were ex

hibited at the Society for the Fine Arts

in Rio de Janeiro (Sociedade Propagadora

de Belas Artes). The press reacted in a

positive way. According to Carlos Ma

ciel Levy: “Even though the landscape

continued a depreciated genre of little

prestige, it was impossible to ignore

the vigor and the importance of the

art work of that German man – so

little known, but of such vibrant and

unexpected qualities for the shy artis

tic environment of that time”.

The Landscape Chair of the Academy

– whose previous occupant, Leôncio da

Costa Vieira, had prematurely passed

away in September of 1881 – was vacant.

Under these circumstances, and facing

the success accomplished by Grimm,

the press started to draw on the need

of appointing a new professor to the

vacant chair, and who would be a better

candidate than Grimm? Although the

Academy had opposed to his hiring, it

has eventually happened – according to

Levy, as an imposition of the Ministry

of Business of the Empire.

Henrique Bernardelli had his talent

recognized by Agostini and, besides that,

was the center of one of the greatest dis

244 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

cussions of the criticism of the 19th cen-

tury, between Gonzaga Duque Estrada

and Angelo Agostini. At ﬁrst, Agostini

dissatisfactions towards the critics as a

hole, which wouldn’t have acknowledged

Henrique’s talent and, as a consequence,

his exhibition wouldn’t have reached its

deserved success. Agostini claimed that

Brazilian criticism wasn’t capable of rec

ognizing a great artist. The critics would

have said that Henrique was a “hope”, a

term with which Agostini has disagreed.

How would it be possible that Henrique,

who took care of his formation in Italy,

who had a good production, could rep-

resent only a “hope”? He was already

a consolidated artist. Thus, when the

article signed by Alfredo Palheta at A

Semana questions technical issues in the

painting by Henrique Bernardelli, Ago

stini, under the pseudonym X, responds

with harsh words: “But we couldn’t let

through so much nonsense and pedanti-

cism on the part of an individual who

has the petulance of whishing to pass

for a specialist to the eyes of the audi-

ence, when, in fact, he is nothing but

an ignorant”.

Agostini contests the technical is-

sues on the writings of A. Palheta, re

futing every observation. As an artist,

Agostini certainly judged himself to be

more qualiﬁed to make references of

this kind, while Duque Estrada lacked

an artistic background and, therefore,

competent to make such considera-

tions. To illustrate this, we reproduce

below an excerpt of the critic, being

the ﬁrst sentence by A. Palheta and the

comment by Agostini.

I also notice the excessive use of blue tones

and violet shadows, already in the ﬁgures and

also in the landscapes.

...-

If the illustrious critic had the trouble to

think, he would see that the ﬁgures and the

landscapes made en plein air can’t avoid par

ticipating in the blue of the sky: since it is blue,

all the parts that are not illuminated by the

sun shall be inevitably blue, especially in the

most distant plans.

Angelo Agostini has also praised,

commented and criticized several other

artists in their caricature salons, an ar

tistic genre very developed in France,

or better, a Parisian peculiarity, whose

origins are in the 18th century. At that

time some publications employed irony

and humor rather than serious criticism

to comment on the art works exhibited

in the ofﬁcial Parisian salons. At the

beginning, little illustration has been

used. “Il s’agit lá d’un genre, en effet,

d’une formule spéciale de compte rendu

humoristique par l’image...”

These caricature salons have been

published on the pages of contempo

rary journals or in single albums. Since

the decade of 1840 they’ve started to

gain strength. “D’une maniere géné

rale, dans en plupart des journaux à

caricatures ou tout simplement à im

ages, le salon, textuel ou imagé, est en

cadré, pris entre l’autres épisodes de la

vie sociale et culturel”.

Thus, it’s possible to observe that

these salons are full of reference to

that society and to its debates. The

ideas circulated with the images. For

an observer of our times some of these

details may pass unnoticed, since it’s

difﬁcult to have access to all of the

codes of a speciﬁc society, in a deter

mined time and place. However, the

caricature salons have contributed

with a sense of popularization of the

art pieces, since the memorization of a

cartoon, for its comical effect, is easier

than remembering an art piece. In the

same way, the caricaturist may be able

to interpret the meaning of the popular

appreciation of the art works.

Angelo Agostini has also created his

own “caricature salons”. Some of its

characteristics, as its form, its humor,

its drawing and subtitles are similar

to the French genre, but Agostini had

his own singularities. The identiﬁca

tion of the names of the artist and the

piece of work is the trade mark of his

production, in contrast to the French

case, where the names were rarely

present. His comments had to be di

rectly addressed to the authors, after

all, the critic aimed to either establish

a dialogue with them, or to reach their

greatest target: the ofﬁcial institution

and its production.

His caricature tracings lacked the

agility and the simpliﬁcation of the

tracings observed in some French

journals specialized on this technique.

Even though there are differences be

tween his work and the work done by

the French caricaturists, it’s not neces

sary to consider these differences in a

hierarchical scale that evaluates one in

detriment of the other. To reﬂect on

Agostini’s work allows us to ﬁnd traces

of a memory that criticized the politi

cal, artistic and social system of Brazil

during the Second Empire. Therefore,

this opens another possibility of con

frontation of documents and discourses

– an essential activity of the historiog

rapher’s work.

English version: Daniela Ferreira Araújo Silva

Joaquim Nabuco, son of a slave owning fam-

ily, was born in Recife in 1849. From the

beginning, his contact with slavery would

have gained his sympathy for the abolition

ist cause. He studied Law in Recife and São

Paulo, and was colleague of Rui Barbosa

and Castro Alves. He followed a career in

politics, and fought for abolition of slavery

side by side with José do Patrocínio, Joaquim

Serra and André Rebouças. Although he had

always remained a monarchist, he acted in

the Republic as a diplomat. Nabuco believed

that slavery was the greatest hindrance in the

progress of Brazil.

O Paiz, Rio de Janeiro, 10th of October, 1888,

p. 1. Free translation.

Free translation. By the “institution that ‘fortu-

nately prevails’ ” the author means the slavery.

O Malho, Rio de Janeiro, year IX, n. 385, Janu

ary of 1910.

Gazeta Artística, São Paulo, 30th of January of 1910.

RHAA 6 245

Traduções/Translations

Revista Illustrada, Rio de Janeiro, 1876, year I,

n.06. p.2

Luigi Borgomainerio was an Italian painter,

drawer and caricaturist, who came to Brazil in

1874, after a short period in Argentina. Being

an artist very renowned in Italy, he took part

in successful humoristic papers in Europe, as

Spirito Foletto. In Brazil, he has worked at the

Vida Fluminense and, later, at O F

ígaro, until

he passed away in 1876, due to the epidemic

of yellow fever that year. On the event of his

death, the press, including the Revista Illustrada,

paid him several homages. He was known for

his intense anticlerical activity, as were his col

leagues Agostini, Bordalo Pinheiro e Faria.

His art was very original, of great perfection

and with a satiric tone. He has been renowned

and respected in his time.

Rafael Augusto Bordalo Pinheiro was a Por

tuguese caricaturist of renowned talent, who

has illustrated in Brazil between 1875 and

1879. His style, irreverence and satiric acrid

ness granted him great success. He criticized

the clergy, politics and habits. He began his

collaboration in Brazil at O Mosquito. Bordalo

has illustrated an entertaining volume about

the voyage of D. Pedro II to Europe – who

remained one of his favorite characters. He

possessed great love for the Theater, due to his

youth aspiration to be an actor. Therefore, this

kind of art has always found its space on his

works. As a result of his clear, straight-forward

and direct activity, he made several enemies,

having suffered two attempts against his life in

Rio de Janeiro. He also entailed a long debate

with Agostini, which was displayed through

many pages in the press. Finding himself in

a difﬁcult situation in Brazil, he decided to

return to Portugal to continue with his artis

tic work there. He was also a ceramist. The

Brazilian papers in which he has worked were

Berlinda, Lanterna Magica, Psit, O Besouro.

CAVALCANTI, C. & AYALA, W. (Coord.)

Dicion

ário brasileiro de artistas plásticos. 4 v. Rio

de Janeiro / Brasília: Instituto Nacional do

Livro, 1973-1980.

VELHO SOBRINHO, João Francisco. Di-

cion

ário bio-bibliográﬁco brasileiro. Rio de Janeiro:

[s.n.], 1937.

CAGNIN, Antonio Luiz. “Agostini, Quadrin-

hos Comics Fumetti”. In: R. Italian

ística, year III,

n. 3, p. 29-55, 1995.

MELLO E SOUZA, Antonio Candido. Lit-

eratura e sociedade. São Paulo: T. A. Queiroz;

Publifolha, 2000 (Grandes nomes do pensa

mento brasileiro). p.153

O Cabrião, São Paulo, 1866, n. 2, p. 11.

Idem, n. 3, p. 22.

Idem, ibidem, p.23

Mariana Alvim, daughter of Laura e Álvaro

Alvim, granted an interview to Marcus Tadeu

Daniel Ribeiro in 1988. The interview is in

cluded in the interwier’s master’s thesis as an

Appendix: RIBEIRO, Marcus Tadeu Daniel.

Revista Illustrada (1876-1898) – “Síntese de uma

época”. Rio de Janeiro: December of 1988,

UFRJ. Mariana passed away in Brasília in

2002.

O Cabrião, São Paulo, 1866, n. 13, p. 102. Au-

thor’s emphasis.

Sizenando Barreto Nabuco de Araújo was

born in Recife in July 16th of 1842, and died in

March 11

of 1892, in Rio de Janeiro. He was

son of the counselor José Tomas Nabuco de

Araújo. He graduated from the Law School of

São Paulo in 1860. He was a Theater enthusi

ast, wrote plays, was a deputy in the Provincial

Assembly, and general deputy representing the

Province of Pernambuco. He also exercised

the function of public prosecutor.

Américo Brasílio de Campos, son of Ber-

nardino José de Campos, was born in Bra

gança, SP, in August 12th of 1835. He gradu

ated in Social and Juridical Sciences in the Law

School of São Paulo. He has worked at the

Correio Paulistano, São Paulo, 1867-1874, at A

Província, also in São Paulo, printed between

1875 and 1883, together with Francisco Rangel

Pestana. He was a defender of the liberalism

and of the liberation of the slaves.

Son of Alexandre Antônio dos Santos,

Antônio Manuel dos Reis was born in São

Paulo in 1840. He graduated in Social and

Juridical Sciences in the Law School of São

Paulo in 1862. He was a catholic, with connec

tions with the Church. He worked for Brasil

Cat

ólico and for the Apóstolo.

Cabrião: weekly humoristic publication, edited

by Angelo Agostini, Américo de Campos and

Antônio Manuel dos Reis; 1866-1867 / In

troduction by Délio Freire dos Santos. 2. ed.

Revised and complemented. São Paulo: Ed.

Unesp, Imprensa Oﬁcial do Estado, 2000.

D. Quixote, Rio de Janeiro, 1900, year VI, n. 113.

A French artist based in Brazil and thought at

wealthy families’ homes to initiate their chil

dren in the appreciation of Arts. He also did

portraits, landscapes and illustrations, besides

caricatures. He associated political caricature

to social caricature in the style of Henrique

Fleiuss. He has collaborated with Bazar Vol

ante (1863-67), Ba-ta-clan (1867-68), Mequetrefe

(1875) and O F

ígaro (1876). His drawings were

blunt and rough, but had a great satiric tone.

According to Herman Lima, he was one of

the ﬁrst to do humoristic parody, followed by

Agostini. He died in Rio de Janeiro between

1879 and 1880.

He was a caricaturist whose identity is yet

to be determined. His work showed strong

French inﬂuences. He worked at O Arlequim

and at the Vida Fluminense.

Flumen Junius, as he was named by Semana

Ilustrada, besides being a caricaturist, wrote

prose and poetry. His name was Ernesto Au

gusto de Sousa Silva e Rio. He has collabo

rated with O Mosquito

, Vida Fluminense, Semana

Ilustrada, among others. He was a respected

caricaturist at his time. He passed away in Rio

de Janeiro in 1905.

Cândido Aragonês de Faria was a brazilian

caricaturist. Founder and owner of O Mosquito,

he also collaborated with O Diabrete

, Vida Flu-

minense

, O Zigue-Zague, Pacotilha, Meﬁstófeles, Gan-

ganelli

, O Fígaro and Mequetrefe. It’s important to

note that, according to Herman Lima, Faria

would have been one of the few caricaturists

that were not inﬂuenced by Agostini. He died

in France.

He was one of the ﬁrs caricaturists of the

press. He started his career at the Semana Il

ustrada in 1863, then worked in the journals

O Bazar Volante

, Vida Fluminense, O Mundo da

Lua, among others. His drawings were clear

and easily assimilated. It seems his career has

ended at the Vida Fluminense

Antônio Alves do Vale de Sousa Pinto was

born in 1846, in Portugal, and came to Brazil

in 1859. He did landscapes, portraits, draw

ings, caricatures and lithography. He was a

brother of the Portuguese painter José Júlio

Sousa Pinto. He worked at O Lobisomem

, Vida

Fluminense and Mequetrefe. He had great inﬂu

ence of Agostini’s style.

SODRÉ, Nelson Werneck. História da Imprensa

no Brasil. Rio de Janeiro: Civilização Brasileira,

1966, p. 255.

Luís de Andrade was born in Pernambuco,

in November 20th of 1849. He has studied in

Portugal, but never ﬁnished his superior edu

cation. He started his work at the Portuguese

press with Bordalo Pinheiro, at the journal

Lanterna M

ágica. Andrade was also one of the

permanent writers of the Revista Illustrada, un

der the pseudonym of Julio Verim.

Information presented in the article by

SILVA, Eduardo. “Camélias da Abolição: as

ﬂores subversivas do quilombo do Leblon”.

Nossa Hist

ória. Rio de Janeiro, year I, n. 07,

May of 2004, p.26-31.

Revista Illustrada. Rio de Janeiro,1888, year

XIII, n. 518, p. 2.

Revista Illustrada. Rio de Janeiro,1889, year

XIV, n. 573.

In 1898, Agostini took part in the Exposição

Geral (General Exhibition) with ten paintings

and in 1901, with the work Aurora – in exhibi

tion today in the Casa de Cultura Laura Alvim

in Rio de Janeiro. In 1904, he has exhibited

three of his works and in 1907 and 1908, with

one work each year.

From what we could verify in the catalogues of

the National Museum of Fine Arts (MNBA),

246 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

the artist never presented the same work twice

in none of these exhibitions – what gets us

closer to the hypothesis that at the end of his

life he has dedicated himself more to paint

ing.

At the Casa de Cultura Laura Alvim, we have

found eight canvases attributed to Ângelo

Agostini. Only four of them are in exposition,

and only two of the later are signed.

Unfortunately, some of the canvases are in a

desolate condition, and it’s almost impossible

to identify what has been painted. Further

more, the paintings are not maintained un

der adequate storage conditions, what impairs

even more their state of conservation.

The institution lacks registries of origin of the

paintings, as well as dates, titles or any other

information besides the size and the descrip

tion of the paintings.

It’s deplorable that these works are left forsaken,

without the chance of being known, identi

ﬁed and studied, completely abandoned by our

competent political institutions.

O Malho, Rio de Janeiro, year IX, n. 385, Janu-

ary of 1910 (text published on the event of

Agostini’s death).

DUQUE ESTRADA, Luiz Gonzaga. A arte

Brasileira. Introduction and notes by Tadeu

Chiarelli. Campinas (SP): Mercado das Let

ras, 1995, p. 29.

Revista Illustrada, Rio de Janeiro, 1887, year

XII, n. 459, p. 6 e 7.

Ibid., p. 2.

Revista Illustrada, Rio de Janeiro, 1879, year

IV, n. 187, p. 2.

Ibid., 1885, year X, n. 419, p. 3.

Ibid., 1885, year X, n.420, p. 2.

Note of the translator: The original article fea-

ture the word “charges”, which in Portuguese

may refer either to gag cartoons or to political

(or editorial) cartoons.

LIMA, Herman. História da Caricatura no Brasil.

Rio de Janeiro: José Olympio Ed., 1963. 3 vol.

p.872

Guillaume Sulpice Chevalier (1804-1866), was a

French caricaturist and lithographer of the 19th

century, who worked at the Charivari. He was

also an aquarellist and an illustrator of books.

He lived in London between 1847 and 1851

where, touched by the miserable life conditions

of the poor classes, he employed his talent to

call the attention to the social problems.

Revista Illustrada, Rio de Janeiro, 1882, year

VII, n. 297, p. 2.

LEVY, Carlo Roberto Maciel. O Grupo Grimm:

paisagismo brasileiro no s

éculo XIX. Rio de Ja-

neiro: Pinakotheke, 1980, p.25.

Revista Illustrada, Rio de Janeiro, 1886, year

XI, n. 444, p.3 e 6.

Ibid., p. 3 e 6.

CHADEFAUX, Marie-Claude. “Le Salon car-

icatural de 1846 et les autres salons caricatu

raux”

. In: La Gazette des Beaux-Arts, March,

1968, p. 161.

CHABANNE, Thierry. Les salons caricaturaux.

Les dossiers du Musée D’Orsay. Paris: Édi

tions de la Réunion des musées nationaux,

1990, p. 8.

The formation of the sculptor

Rodolfo Bernardelli in Italy

(1877-1885): an analysis of his

trajectory from primary sources.

Maria do Carmo Couto da Silva

PhD student of History of Art,

IFCH/Unicamp

This article is the result of a research

about the formation of the sculptor Ro-

dolfo Bernardelli (Guadalajara, Mexico,

1852 - Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 1931), made

during the production of our masters

dissertation in the Instituto de Filosoﬁa

e Ciências Humanas from the Univer

sidade Estadual de Campinas (Institute

of Philosophy and Human Sciences of

the Campinas State University), com

pleted in 2005.

Bernardelli, along the

painters Rodolfo Amoedo (1857-1941)

and Henrique Bernardelli (1858-1936),

belongs to a generation of students of

the Academia Imperial de Belas Artes

- AIBA (Imperial Academy of Arts),

located in Rio de Janeiro. During the

decades of the 1870’s and 1880’s, these

artists tried to renovate art in the coun-

try by trying to break away from some

canons of academic tradition. The un

derstanding both of this questioning

and of the new propositions made then,

will allow us to better know the char

acteristics of Brazilian art production,

related to AIBA, during the end of the

19th century. We will also understand

its possibilities of change and rupture.

Bernardelli entered the Academy

in 1870. He had as professor of sculp

ture Francisco Manoel Chaves Pin

heiro (1822-1884). In 1874, Bernardelli

naturalized Brazilian. He received a

prize in The International Exposi

tion of Philadelphia, in 1876, with the

sculptures Missing the tribe (Saudades

da tribo) (1874) and Prying (À espreita)

(1875), both related to the Indianist

theme. Still in 1876, he received the

First Gold Medal in the 24th General

Exposition of Fine Arts with Davi, win

ner over Golias (Davi, vencedor de Go

lias) (1873), a piece of work “within

the Classical spirit which dominated

the Academy”.

He also received the

Prize of Foreign Trip from AIBA, with

the relief Priamus begging for Hector’s body

(Príamo implorando o corpo de Hei-

tor)

. Between 1877 and 1885, he was

sojourner in the Academy of Rome. In

this period, the artist studied with the

sculptor Giulio Monteverde (1837-1917)

and got acquainted with Achille D’Orsi

(1845-1922) and Eugenio Maccagnani

(1852-1930), among others.

The trajectory of Rodolfo Ber

nardelli, in this period, was recov

ered through the analysis of primary

sources, data that, for its most part, had

remained not studied. This analysis let

us form a novel vision about his Italian

experience.

A specially relevant fac-

tor used during our masters research,

that helped immensely our work, is

the existence of a group of letters

ofﬁcial documents and manuscripts

from Bernardelli himself. With these

it was possible, for instance, to better

understand the elaboration process of

what is considered Bernardelli’s main

piece of work in this period: Christ and

the adulterous woman (Cristo e a mulher

adúltera) (1881-1884) (Fig. 1). As our re

search has shown, this piece represents

RHAA 6 247

Traduções/Translations

the ﬁrst monumental marble group to

enter the Academy collection, and it

represented a great investment made

by the Institute for Bernardelli’s for

mation. This is so not only because of

the material itself which was used, but

also because the artist’s sojourn abroad

was extended. Similarly, we could ana

lyze, through the survey of the texts

published then, the reception of the

works made in Italy, when they were

exhibited in the artist’s ﬁrst personal

show, at AIBA, in 1885.

Before he made Christ and the

adulterous woman, Bernardelli had

produced, in Italy, two other religious

related works: the bas-relief Fabiola

(Fabíola) (1878) (Fig.

2) and the sculp-

ture Saint Stephen (Santo Estevão) (1879)

(Fig. 3). In Coquettish (Faceira) (1880)

(Fig. 4) he returned to the national

istic theme, the Indianist subject, but

presented it using a new formal treat

ment. Besides, in Italy the artist made

a series of busts, when he made repre

sentations of well known people, for

instance Czech (Checa) (1877) or Monten

ovesi (Montenovesi) (c. 1882), where he

displayed great technical control.

Among other documents, the sen

tences passed by the professors of AIBA

turned out to be essential sources for

the understanding of how Bernardelli’s

Italian works were received in the Insti

tute. For instance, in the sentence passed

by the Sculptor Section, presented in a

Congregation session of 11/9/1882, in

the part regarding the sculpture Saint

Stephen, we can perceive the Academy

disapproval of the saint’s too realistic ex

pression. But at the same time, through

the extremely detailed manner in which

the piece is described in this ofﬁcial doc

ument, we come to the conclusion that

the professors realized that the piece was

very well made, in a way that it passed on

sentiments through the way the saint’s

body was represented:

The protomartyr of Jesus Christ’s religion is

moribund, the excessively hard pains inﬂicted

on him through the martyrdom is perfectly

expressed in his physiognomy, and in all the

ﬁbers of his still young body. In this supreme

trance he rolls his eyes to heaven, with a gaze

surpassed by the most excruciated agony, and

the physical pain, and the (unreadable) hope

of glory, which is drawn

, is rare perfection, all

over this statue, from the disheveled hair in his

head to the contracted toes of his feet. This ex

pression, way too realistic, here substitutes that

ascetic sentiment which should prevail in the

Christian martyrs souls

and, specially in the

Saint’s, chosen by the sojourner because he was

the ﬁrst to shed his blood as Christ’s confessor.

In the Section of Sculptor’s opinion this is the

natural and almost unavoidable result of the

sojourner’s attachment to the Realist School.

This school is not accepted by the actual Con

gregation of the Academia Imperial de Belas

Artes, because it is the faithful guardian of the

good Classical Arts tradition, which was given

to it by its talented founders.

The Coquettish sculpture is de-

scribed in the same document and

constitutes the most praised piece by

the professors. Nevertheless, in our

view, its good acceptance is due to the

fact that it was considered a gender

sculpture, where greater innovations

were allowed. Despite the restrictions,

the woman’s naturalistic body and its

provocative posture were noted, as is

possible to conclude from the reading

of the document:

This statue of natural grandeur is a very

beautiful woman ﬁgure of the American race,

lubricous and provocative. The movement is

gracious, the proportions were well observed,

the modeling was done with knowledge.

This

statue belongs, due to its subject, to the Gen

der Sculpture, and so the Realist School which

the sojourner has adopted, here, is admissible,

nevertheless, if the peregrine talent that has

conceived and made it, with so much courage,

had focused on the Idealist School, it could have

produced a master piece.

Rodolfo Bernardelli, possibly, already

left Brazil with some knowledge of Real

ism. In the relief which granted him the

“trip prize” he may have found inspi

ration, for its main ﬁgure, in the work

Dead Abel (1842), from the Tuscan sculp

tor Giovanni Duprè (1817-1882). Celita

Vaccani emphasizes that the artist had

known foreign pieces of work, in this

period, through newspapers and maga

zines.

Abel was a work made by Duprè

in the beginnings of his career, and was

derived from his studies with Lorenzo

Bartolini (1777-1850). Its a natural size

statue, that renowned Duprè with the

title of “verism pioneer”, even though,

later in his production, this tendency

became softer. According to Jason

what shocked and fascinated the audi

ence about this work was the artist’s

carelessness, he did not dissimulate the

anatomical consequences of death in the

character’s physiognomy, that showed

empty eyes and an open mouth. It is

not a simple image of the dead Abel, for

the author represented, there, a corpse

abandoned in the desert. Through the

ﬁgure of Achilles, in Bernardelli’s relief,

it is possible to perceive that the sculptor,

even before he traveled to Europe, had

already as reference a polemic statue, due

to its strong naturalism.

In a manuscript from 1877, Ber-

nardelli

deﬁned his contact with Re-

alism:

Having I just introduced myself to the

study of sculptor art, although I had obtained

a bronze medal in the Universal Exhibition

of Philadelphia, I found this art in a latent

state of transition, since the Romantic School

was almost dead, Realism was beginning its

domination over the new spirits. A year be

fore, the greatest sculptor so far had passed

away, Carpeaux. Regarding artistic sculpture

evolution there was almost nothing going on.

Realism had as its program the attentive study

of nature and life. The Romantic theory, with

the fall of the Empire (in) 1870 was fading

away, Zola succeeded Balzac and he was the

ﬁrst to start Realist Art.

The artist mentioned Carpeaux

(1827-75), the important French sculp

tor that had caused polemics with two

works from de 1860’s: Ugolino and his

sons and, mainly, the group The dance,

made for the Opera of Paris. We do

not know, for sure, what did Bernardelli

248 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

know about Carpeaux, but, with cer-

tainty, he already had heard of his po

lemic works. We believe that, besides

the sculpture- Tarcisius Martyr Chretien

(1868), from Falguière (1831-1900),

Bernardelli could have found inspira

tion for his Saint Stephen sculpture in

Carpeaux’s ﬁgure of one of the young

Ugolino’s sons. Nevertheless, the ex

acerbated Realism that characterized

Italian Art, in those years, surprised

the young artist when he arrived:

I visited the B (unreadable) Academy, the

modern works, and I got disillusioned with

myself due to my ignorance of the psychological

aspect of the artistic movement. The sculptures,

then, tried their best to imitate the natural

form, I saw some heads of old women laughing,

with all the sores of the old skin, the only thing

missing was that they had hair implants, I did

not like it and I told Prof. P. Amº (Pedro

Américo) so, who told me that this was the

Modern School.

In Italy, Bernardelli got acquainted

with sculptors and painters that made

works of art with a very innovator char

acter. This relationship can be perceived

in the pieces that he makes in that period

and, also, in his later Brazilian produc

tion. In a letter dating from 1929, already

a senior man, he regrets the death of

some artists he met in Italy, possibly

during his Italian sojourn: (….) there,

in Italy, several friends of mine, as old

as I, have left. That’s how it goes, one

leaves and others come, these that left,

however, were very prominent: Gemito,

D’Orsi and Michetti, and will not be re

placed any sooner, most probably only

by the Futurists.

In this document,

we can see how relevant, it was to him,

the production of those Italian artists,

Vincenzo Gemito (1852-1929), Achille

D’Orsi (1845-1929) and Francesco Paolo

Michetti (1815-1929), in comparison with

the works of the Italian vanguard.

Nevertheless, the choice for the Real

ist School was not an easy one for the

artist. In the sentences passed by the

Academy, and even in his personal corre

spondence, we observe, many times, the

critics of professors and colleagues re-

garding this option. In a letter addressed

to Maximiano Mafra, Bernardelli com

ments that his school had attracted to

him antipathy and that his works had

been compared, by some students in the

Academy, to “cast puppets, like the ones

the Italians sell on the streets”.

From what we were able to perceive,

Bernardelli had a quarrel with his sculp

ture professor, Chaves Pinheiro, in the

very ﬁrst years in Rome, most probably

due to the Realist tendency that he had

been presenting in his works. But the

young sculptor had the support of the

Emperor. In a letter addressed to the

Count of Gobineau, Peter II wrote en

quiring about an artist “born in Brazil,

but from Italian family, that studies in

the ‘atelier’ of the sculptor Monteverde.

I believe him to be very talented”.

The

Count, that was in Rome in 1878, an

swered the monarch: “I got informed

about the young sculptor Bernardelli, of

whom your majesty talks about. I saw in

his home a big bas-relief which is being

made for the Academy in Rio: the mar

tyrdom of Saint Sebastian. There is a lot

of talent in the work and Mr. Bernardelli

showed himself to be a hard working

man with a very distinct spirit”.

Pe-

ter II, then, thanked him for the news

“about little Bernardelli”.

This situa-

tion can also be seen in the report of the

painter José de Medeiros (1849-1926),

in a letter addressed to Henrique Ber

nardelli, from 6/20/1881. In the letter,

Medeiros comments that Chaves Pin

heiro had just made a “puppet”, with

the name of Saint Sebastian. According

to Medeiros, Peter II, while visiting the

Academy, turning himself toward Ro

dolfo Bernardelli’s work, had said: “The

eyes of this one, this one has life inside

it, that other one is dead”. Medeiros

goes on: “My colleague Chaves Pinheiro

almost set the Academy on ﬁre”.

The

quarrels with Professor Chaves Pinheiro

go on while Christ and the adulterous woman

was being made. About this, Bernardelli

wrote, in 1882:

I do not understand why he declares himself

to be my enemy now! I have never done any-

thing to him (…..) I will always remember

him as my ﬁrst master. As to him ﬁnding

everything I do as bad is his right, the artist

is, unfortunately, open to this, and should not

get surprised, nor try to persuade himself that

what he does is all good. The continuous and

conscientious work kills and throws down all

the obstacles, I will get there, if God helps me,

certainly it will not be Mr. Chaves who will

take away from me what should be mine.

However, it is possible to notice that

in minor works, which were not part of

the sojourner duty, Bernardelli would

present more freedom in his execution.

In some busts, made in the following

years, for instance in the portrait of

the painter Modesto Brocos (1883), the

sculptor reveals formal proximity with

some portraits of Vincenzo Gemito, for

example Michetti’s portrait (1873). Another

of Bernardelli’s work, Head of Capri is

land’s villager, without date, reminds us

some aspects of Neapolitan sculpture

of those years. In this work, the art

ist keeps a dialogue with Head of Sailor

(c.1878), from Achille D’Orsi. Lamberti

points out

that D’Orsi’s sculpture cor-

responds to the taste for the sketch, re

lated to Verism, of a close relationship

between folklore research and scientiﬁc

classiﬁcation. The junction of pictur

esque and the faithful documentation of

uses and types of the Neapolitan world

became a commercial hit in this period.

Lamberti alerts for D’Orsi’s careful por

trait of the bonnet, the earrings and the

apotropaic medal of the character. We

can ﬁnd a similar reference in the paint

ings of Francesco Paolo Michetti (1851-

1929) and in sculptures by Gemito. Later

works of Rodolfo Bernardelli, made

in Brazil, for instance Baiana (Baiana)

(c.1886)

, where he depicted common

people, probably represented a renova

tion in the country’s gender sculptor,

and they can also indicate a taste for

this kind of sculpture.

On the bust The artist’s employee in

Rome (O empregado do artista em

RHAA 6 249

Traduções/Translations

Roma) (1881), Bernardelli shows inter-

est in the representation of Ancient

Rome’s characters, getting closer, by

this, to the works Achille D’Orsi made

in the end of the 1870’s.

Some of the pieces made by Ber-

nardelli in his Italian sojourn were

sold by the artist himself, after they

had been displayed in local shows, as

a way of complementing the money

sent by AIBA, which he shared with

his brother Henrique. This is seen in a

letter of 8/21/1881:

In the Popolo Exhibition, which takes place

annually, I displayed two terracotta heads,

from which I believe I sent you some pictures,

they are named Furba and Gigetto.…. all the

newspapers cited (them) as among the best, and

some wrote things, the best for me, was to sell

them, I am obliged to do so, I have to sell

because AIBA’s money is not enough, as you

very well know, we are two....

In another letter to João Maximiano

Mafra, Bernardelli writes: “I have [an

idea of making] a small group, which I

intend to send to the next Salon, what

holds me back is the question of time,

it would otherwise be an actual sub

ject (name of the work is unreadable)

something to sell”.

We can conclude

that, regarding those small sized works,

the artist would choose contemporary

themes, making, most probably, gender

statuettes, which were easier to sell. It

is important to notice that Bernardelli

tried to mingle with the Roman artistic

atmosphere. Since 1877, he belonged to

the International Artistic Association of

Rome and he tried to send pieces for

the annual shows of the city. Some of

these works, as he himself reports in the

quoted fragment, were commented in a

positive manner in the local newspapers.

The marble execution of Christ and

the adulterous woman (1881-1884)

The piece Christ and the adulterous

woman was made by Rodolfo Bernardelli

in Rome, between 1881 and 1884. From

this work on, Christ became a recurrent

ﬁgure in the artist’s production, present

in tomb pieces and small statuettes.

The cast sketch of the piece

also

belongs to the collection of the Mu

seu Nacional de Belas Artes, in Rio

de Janeiro, and was approved by the

Congregation of Professors of AIBA,

in 1882. In the cast, the artist had not

yet projected the realistic effect of the

mantle, one of the recognized qualities

of this sculpture. In a letter to Maximi

ano Mafra, Bernardelli afﬁrms that he

still would have to make many changes,

that Christ’s tunic will not be that same

one, “at least [I] was promised, after I

had ﬁnished the work, to be sent a real

tunic, that is, a Hebrew one, which, If

I am not mistaken does not have such

large sleeves, like the one I made”.

Christ’s head also changes enormously.

In the beginning, it had been portrayed

wearing a skullcap, with both hair and

beard molded in a different way. On

the other hand, the adulterous charac

ter is the one closest to its ﬁnal result,

with only some small differences, like

the woman’s dorsum, which is partially

dressed up in the cast, whereas in the

marble piece it appears nude. Also her

legs, covered in the cast, can be seen

in between the open parts of her dress

in the marble piece. In this way, the

character gains sensuality.

This sculpture began to be produced

around March, 1883, when the marble

began to be roughed-hew by three

stonemasons, who worked every day.

In July, the sculpture had not been con

cluded yet, being that, according to the

artist, “there were huge difﬁculties to

be conquered”.

Most probably, it be-

gan to be made by Bernardelli from the

second semester of 1883 onwards.

In the many drawings that the art

ist made, while studying the image of

Christ, we can perceive a special care

towards the anatomy and, also, towards

precision of movements of both arms

and legs. The study of the character,

initially nude, and then, dressed up, was

made in different positions. In some

drawings, we can see that Bernardelli

studied the position of the hair around

Christ’s face. Regarding the mantle,

which appears in one of the selected

drawings, it is possible to perceive that

the artist was concerned with working

the right texture of the tissue and the

draping of the mantle.

Regarding the formal models used

for the sculpture Christ and the adulterous

woman, one of them could have been

a engraving about the same subject, a

Bible illustration done by Gustave Doré

(1832-1883) [Fig. 5]. As it is pointed

out by Luciano Migliaccio, at the sketch

made for the painting Christ in Cafarnaum

(Cristo em Cafarnaum), by Rodolfo

Amoedo, at the Pinacoteca do Estado

de São Paulo, the ﬁgure of a “static and

furious Christ, circled by a light halo”

goes back to Doré’s Bible illustrations.

Knowing the afﬁnities between the

two artists, we believe that both could

have used a similar source. Migliaccio

also points out that, in the picture, we

have a “reading of Christ’s life done

by Renan, who renovates Domenico

Morelli’s religious iconography in Italy,

in those years”.

Thus, we would have

another point of contact between the

sculptor and the painting, the use of

Renan’s writings. There are many for

mal similarities between Doré’s engrav

ing, regarding this Bible passage, and

Bernardelli’s sculpture: in Christ’s at

titude, who protects, with his body, the

adulterous woman; in the long mantle

that falls up to his feet; and also, in the

way the woman, recoiled behind Christ,

protects herself with her arms held in

front of her. According to the biblical

text, Jesus, while was being enquired,

wrote in the ground using his ﬁnger.

This inscription appears in the engrav

ing, and also can be seen at the base of

the sculpture, in Hebrew. In a similar

way, on the marble pedestal, worked in

geometric shapes, we can propose a ref

erence to the column which can be seen

in the back, in the engraving. One thing

to be noted, otherwise, is that each piece

250 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

differs from the other regarding the ex-

pressiveness of the characters. Christ’s

extended arm, in the sculpture, with his

open hand in front of him, is closer to a

preaching gesture, and that makes him

a more emphatic ﬁgure. On the other

hand, the adulterous woman posture,

with her face facing down and being

held by one of her hands, gives us the

impression of a much more inner atti

tude, if compared to the one presented

in the engraving.

According to Millicent Rose

, the

Bible edition illustrated by Doré gained

success in the 1860’s, because it was

the work of a single artist. According

to this researcher, Doré’s engravings

pleased a large public, because, besides

not following the traditional iconogra

phy of the subject, in them, he tried to

transmit a unique realism to the sacred

story. As Rose points out, for instance,

when Doré drew the story of Israel in

Egypt, he did it based on the Egyptian

collection in the Louvre. He used both

modern archaeological knowledge and

psychological realism, depicting the

men in a way that a contemporary of

the great novelists and of the new pho

tographers would have done. Besides,

the artist manifested, in his numerous

drawings, a greater interest for Christ’s

personality, rather than for the charac

ter symbolized by him. He gave more

attention to the individual than to the

divinity. This can, probably, be traced

to his contact with Renan’s writings,

which, at the time, made Christ’s im

ages compromise to the novel demands

of realism and exactitude.

Another thematic and formal model

used for Bernardelli’s sculpture Christ

and the adulterous woman may have been

Giulio Monteverde’s Judicious

Virgin and

Fool Virgin (1866), which was, according

to Francesco Prian, a work that the art

ist, as pensioner of the academy Ligus

tica, made during his ﬁrst year of bet

terment studies in Rome, to be sent to

Genoa.

Formally wise the two pieces

have many similarities. For instance,

the ﬁgure’s position which, standing

up, holds with one hand an oil lamp

and with the other inclines himself to-

wards her in a gesture of supplication.

The critic Vincenzo Marchese points

out the Monteverde’s fortunate choice

when he chose to expose the evangeli

cal concept using but two ﬁgures. That

allowed him to clearly show the moral

sense of the work through the contrast

of the bodies: the Judicious Virgin, no

ble and delicate, and the Fool Virgin,

massive and plebeian.

The body of the Fool Virgin shows

evident naturalistic accents, and also

a sense of earthly life. It is also said,

talking about her, that the artist over

did himself, because the biblical text

describes her as inadvertent, but not

lascivious or regretful. Going on with

this analysis, Marchese asks if the artist

would have tried to express the easi

ness with which an imprudent soul can

sin when it is deprived of the light of

reason. For the researcher, this teach

ing can be similar to that old one, of

Love and Psyche. It would show on

Monteverde’s sculpture as the Christian

psyche opposed to the pagan psyche:

celestial love confrontig earthly love.

In the article addressed here, Franc

esco Prian

points out that we can

already see the particular way through

which Monteverde will, in the future,

model the human body in his cemetery

works. For instance, as it happens with

some of his angels, like the one at the

Oneto tomb, in the Staglieno cemetery

in Genoa, which has a very beautiful

and provocative body. In this piece, the

naturalistic aspect contrasts with the

metaphysical concept that was planned

to be shown. The researcher also af

ﬁrms that the ethical intent is almost

always present in this sculptor’s works.

For instance, the sculpture Edoardo

Jenner

tries in his own son the inoculation of

the vaccine (1873). In this way, we could

think that the sculpture Judicious Virgin

and Fool Virgin would have in common,

with Bernardelli’s sculpture, the moral

izing theme, allied to the realism in the

representation of the bodies.

In a similar way, by the use of the

inscriptions and, essentially, through the

production of the base in the sculpture,

Bernardelli keeps on a dialogue with

some of Achille D’Orsi’s pieces. In the

representation of an arid ﬂoor, contrast

ing with the softness of the characters

ﬂesh or with the texture of the tissues,

the artist keeps an afﬁnity with the Nea

politan sculptor. For instance, with Re

ligion at the desert (1872) or with Proximus

Tuus (1880). The base is incorporated

to the rest of the scene, amplifying the

realistic effect of the composition.

It is important to observe that, in the

Turin Exhibition of 1880, the Italian

sculptor Ettore Ximenes (1855-1926),

admirer of the works of art made by

Domenico Morelli and D’Orsi, pre

sented a sculpture with the name Christ

and the adulterous woman. Rodolfo Ber

nardelli, probably, must have visited

this exhibition because, as it was possible

to perceive, the artist had the concern

of following the art shows in Italy and

even in France. We do not know if the

knowledge of the existence of this work

inﬂuenced Bernardelli’s sculpture, since

it was not possible to obtain an image

of that piece. At the Turin Exhibition

of 1884, Ximenes presented Judas kiss

(c. 1884), work in which the image of

Christ is very close to the one that ap

pears at the cast of Bernardelli’s Christ

and the adulterous woman. The similarities

can be seen in the great tunic wore by

Christ and in the use of the skullcap. It is

important to stress that, at this same ex

hibition, the Brazilian sculptor presents,

for the ﬁrst time, his marble sculpture.

Art critic and Bernardelli’s 1885

exhibition

In September of 1885, Rodolfo Ber

nardelli returned to Brazil. In October,

the 16th, an individual exhibition of

the artist was opened at the Academia

Imperial de Belas Artes. It showed a

RHAA 6 251

Traduções/Translations

group of sculptures made in Rome. The

next day, he was nominated professor

of statuary at this institution. We can

perceive the reception the works re

ceived at that moment because of the

large press that surrounded the exhibi

tion. It was commented many times at

the ﬁrst pages of the main periodicals

of Rio de Janeiro, for instance, Jornal

do Commercio, Gazeta de Not

ícias, Gazeta

da Tarde and also in the Revista Illustrada

and the O Mequetrefe, among others.

The exhibition received, also, the visit

of Don Pedro II. The newspapers also

mentioned, on a daily basis, informa

tion about the visiting public.

Through the analysis of the critic,

made during our research, we could

perceive a concern by the authors of

those texts of not only pointing out

the artist’s trajectory, since his ingress

at AIBA, but also in describing the

sculptures and some formal details. For

instance, in a text with no authorship,

published at the Jornal do Commercio, Ber

nardelli is presented as “one of the rare

artistic talents that could be found in

any country”.

The author afﬁrms that

some of the pieces that were exhibited

were already known to the public, like

Fabiola, because when it was exhibited

for the ﬁrst time it caused great impact.

About Coquettish, the journalist afﬁrms

that this late piece is a mist of correc

tion and lasciviousness, maybe a exceed

ingly 19th century product, where, due

to the sculpture’s perfection and charm,

the free and daring conception of the

sculptor is forgiven. Next, he comments

that Greek art would not allow the ex

pression of feeling and physiognomy,

because it was not dignifying for the

gods. The copies of the Venuses that

Bernardelli made in Rome are excellent

works, as well as “the reproduction of

two jewelries of classical art although

we may judge that school not able to

acclimatize to our century, because their

absolute and complex beauties are to

tally ideal qualities, they do not exist in

nature”.

For the author, the thing that

shows off the most about the pieces that

were exhibited is the sculpture Christ and

the adulterous woman. Both ﬁgures are to

be admired, Christ with the left hand

protecting the woman and with the

right one defying the lapidaries with

no guilt, and the adulterous, who tries

to hide herself among the folds of his

tunic. At the characters bodies blood

seems to run. The text ends with an af

ﬁrmation that Bernardelli is a complete

artist, in the full sense of the word, and,

asks if the country is “large enough a

theatre for this artist to run his notable

talent and wisdom”.

In another article, also not signed,

published at O Paiz, in October, the

16th, a summary of the sculptor’s career

is presented. His prizing in the Phila

delphia Exhibition, with Missing the tribe

and Prying

, his prizes given by the Republic

of Venezuela are also mentioned, where he re

ceived the Bol

ívar medal, and the badge of honor

in Turin, for Christ and the adulterous woman.

The author also observes that the sculp

tor had received no prizes in Brazil and

afﬁrms that, on the other hand, he re

ceived distinctions from a country that

dedicates all its care to the arts: he had

been praised by Giulio Monteverde,

who is quoted as the author of Colum

bus, Franklin Genius and Jenner, and had

been saluted by Maccagnani, who im

mortalized himself with the sculpture

Gladiators and was producing, back then,

the statue of Garibaldi, to be sent to

Brescia. In the text it is also noted that

Bernardelli had gained respect from

other famous Italian sculptors, like the

Italians Girolamo Masini (1840-1885),

and D’Orsi (assigned as the author

of Proximus Tuus), and also the British

sculptor Alfredo Gilbert (1854-1934),

who studied in Rome those years. We

would like to point out that Gilbert is

considered by the researchers as a reno

vator of British sculpture, mainly with

works like Icarus, where he resumes Re

nascence models. In the O Paiz article

it is noted that Bernardelli could have

passed away the homages that were

given to other Brazilian artists, who

only through his inﬂuence were able

to appear in Italian exhibitions. The

author of the article also afﬁrms that

the sculpture provokes an intense and

profound impression upon the specta

tor, even when it is located in a room

with dim light. He also points out that,

for the ﬁrst time, he feels dominated by

national art: “if national can be called

a Brazilian educated in Italy paid by

Brazil”.

Next, he describes the sculp-

ture, and he stresses the magniﬁcence

of the ﬁgure of Christ, “that speaks up

and moves and imposes in such a way,

that any man get subjugated to that self-

reliant expression, noble and distinct”.

The ﬁgure of the adulterous woman is

also noted as having a physiognomy of

“scare, shame and conﬁdence”.

The

text goes on:

Ways of academic tradition and conventions

of statuary despised, this sculpture has, beyond

all, color and movement, life and heat. The

same marble gets modiﬁed under the target and

transforms itself in different tissues and in ﬂesh

of various tons. The vests undulate and the

ﬁgures are human bodies with the details of

human nature.

In this article it is also mentioned

an event

that can be understood as

another element of the creation of a

myth about Bernardelli, related to an

old Greek story: the director of AIBA,

a man used to the statuary, when he saw

Bernardelli’s sculpture, got closer to the

ﬁgure of Christ to look at the feet and,

with one of his hands, tried to lift the

tunic, only then remembering that he

had in front of him the cold marble. The

text ends mentioning that Bernardelli

had been nominated as professor of the

Academy, but points out that there was

not a place, there, for statuary classes.

In this way, the artist would not leave

his atelier, what, according to the text,

would give him proﬁt in order to “take

care, seriously, of something that our

government never assumed seriously”.

In some articles published back then,

besides praising the artist, there is a po

252 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

litical opposition against the imperial

government, for instance in “Ésthetica

Imperial” (“Imperial Aesthetics”), pub

lished in the Gazeta da Tarde.

A text from França Júnior about

Bernardelli’s exhibition, published in a

newspaper of that period, praises the

success of the contemporary Italian art

in Paris, through the Realist School and

the gender sculpture:

What is Italy, statuary wise, could be ob

served in 1873 in the Exhibition of Vienna,

Austria, and in the last Universal Exhibition

in Paris.

The name Monteverde alone was enough to

glorify it, in the sumptuous artistic tournament

of Prater!

The famous Fisherman by Gemito and the

gracious Tufolina by [Odoardo] Tabacchi were

the major successes of the Trocadero!

With a brilliant pleiad of sculptors, among

whom we have, besides the ones mentioned,

Dorsi, Masini, Maccagnoni and Donato

Bracaglia, Italy, this sublime revolutionary,

transformed completely the Plastic Arts.

França Júnior, who knew Bernardelli

for a long time, shows in this text an

extensive contact with the works of

the artists that the sculptor met in his

period abroad. Besides, because of the

friendship that united the two Brazil

ians, he could describe with certainty

the ideals of the artist in his youth:

About ancient sculptor the young artist knew

already, more or less, the excellence of some of

the copies in cast from our Pinacotheca.

The Greek statues, on the other hand, did

not satisfy his ideal aspirations. Those Anti

noos, marvelously beautiful, but with a beauty

drawn by severe and absolute laws, that could

not be transgressed, running the risk of excom-

munication; those Gladiators, with exuberant

muscles, exhaling the last sigh in academic posi

tions, the Venuses, the Apollos, the Bacchuses,

the Dianas, the Fauns, all that looked like

convention, school.

His young ardent nature felt bad in that

atmosphere.

He began to dream.

And in those dreams, like Columbus, catch

ing a glimpse of America beyond the Atlantic,

he also saw his ideal through the ocean.

His artistic instincts took him immediately

to Italy.

The author goes on talking about

Bernardelli’s work and its connection

with Modern Art:

Modern Art, on the other hand, should have

as motto “it is only beautiful what is real” - it

could not nor it would be licit to park, like a

Sahara pyramid, on the old Olympic fantasies.

Modern Art proclaimed the revolution.

And from this revolution emerged the school

to which Bernardelli is afﬁliated, and that was

his dream.

The grandiose marble representing Christ

and the adulterous woman, nowadays in ex

hibition at the Academia de Belas Artes is an

eloquent proof of what was said.

The artist amazes us, above all, because he

knew how to use truth to shape the two ﬁgures

of the group in all their details.

The critic Julio Verim presents in the

Revista Illustrada some comments on the

role of sculpture in that contemporary

moment. The author afﬁrms that, after

a long period of unjust condemnation,

where sculpture was judged as an art

that was only historic, unﬁt for the

transformations that happen through

time, and, “unable to reproduce the pas

sions, the dramas and the epopees of

the modern world”

, it began to be un-

derstood as “as rich in expression as its

two congeners, it has been used, admi

rably, for the representation of heroism,

of despair, of love or piety. The point

is that those feelings should be inspired

by those who comprehend them!”.

the same number, the Revista Illustrada

presents, in double page, an illustration

showing the main works of Bernardelli

and a portrait of the artist. In a later edi-

tion, on the same magazine, a note com

ments the meeting between artists and

men of letters in order to offer a dinner

party in homage to the sculptor. Among

the ones present at the event were the

main representatives of the press: Dr.

Ferreira de Araújo, from the Gazeta de

Not

ícias; França Júnior, from O Paiz;

Arthur de Azevedo, from the Di

ário

de Not

ícias; Valentim Magalhães, from

A Semana; and Angelo Agostini, from

the Revista Illustrada. Mr. Laet, from the

Jornal do Commercio, was not able to at

tend the party. The group of artists was

formed by professors and colleagues

from AIBA: Zeferino da Costa (1840

- 1915), José de Medeiros, Belmiro de

Almeida (1858 - 1935), Décio Villares

(1851 - 1931), Felix Bernardelli (1866 -

1905), Pedro Peres (1850 - 1923) and

Augusto Duarte (1848 - 1888). Through

this note, and along our study, it was

possible to perceive the relationship be

tween men of the press and this genera

tion of artists, and also the existence of

a debate about the modernization of the

arts in the country.

In our research, we are able to con

clude that the qualities to which the

critic gave more attention are the ones

related to the expression of the ﬁgures,

the beauty of the forms, the ability de-

manded from the artist to make the

work of art and, mainly, to the rela

tion of his works with contemporary

Italian sculpture. It is our belief that

Rodolfo Bernardelli’s modern proposi

tions, both thematic and formal, conse

crated the artist among the intellectuals

of that period. Bernardelli’s production

in Italy showed a tendency of present

ing a delicate balance, which allowed

him to be accepted by the congregation

of professors, being a student, and to

be promoted by the academic institu-

tion. At the same time, he tried to make

works that were coherent with the new

ideas that begun to appear in Brazil at

the end of the 19th century.

English version:

Maria Cristina Nicolau Kormikiari Passos

tanit@usp.br

RHAA 6 253

Traduções/Translations

SILVA, M. do C. C. A obra Cristo e a mulher

últera e a formação italiana do escultor Rodolfo

Bernardelli. Dissertation (Masters in History)

– Instituto de Filosoﬁa e Ciências Humanas,

Universidade Estadual de Campinas. Advisor

– Prof. Luciano Migliaccio. Campinas, 2005,

271 p.

MORALES DE LOS RIOS FILHO, A. “Sub-

sídios para a história da escultura, gravura e

desenho do Rio de Janeiro (1889-1930)”. Revista

do Instituto Hist

órico e Geográﬁco Brasileiro. Rio de

Janeiro: Departamento de Imprensa Nacional,

1973, v. 296, jul.-set.1972, p. 197.

In order to make the transcriptions easier,

the writing of the manuscript documents was

brought up to date. Regarding the articles of

the magazines published back then, the or

thography, the paragraphs and the printing

errors were kept as in the originals.

For instance, an important group of photocop-

ies of typed letters, written by Bernardelli and

addressed to João Maximiano Mafra (1823-

1908), secretary of the Academia Imperial de

Belas Artes, which bring inedited data about

Bernardelli’s stay in Italy.

Sentence passed by the Sculpture Section

over Rodolfo Bernadelli’s works, while he

studied in Rome, January, the 13th, 1882.

Historical Archive of the Museu Nacional

de Belas Artes/ Personal Archive of Rodolfo

and Henrique Bernardelli. APO 196. Mine

underscores.

Ibidem. Mine underscores.

VACCANI, C. Rodolpho Bernardelli. Rio de Ja-

neiro: [s.n], 1949, p.53.

JANSON, H. W. Nineteenth Century Sculpture.

London: Thames and Hudson, [c. 1985], p. 85-7.

According to Carlo del Bravo, the cast which

was exhibited at the Academia, in the autumn

of that same year (1842), provoked a scandal

because it was believed to be a decal of the

model. Dupré tells that the model, Antonio

Petrai, was even denuded in order to, through

comparison, prove it was a mistake. BRAVO,

C. del. “Il bozzeto dell’Abele di Giovanni Du

pré”. Paragone. Florence, 23, n. 271, p. 69-78.

Set. 1972.

BERNARDELLI, R. [Manuscript]. Historical

Archive of the Museu Nacional de Belas Artes

/ Personal Archive of Rodolfo e Henrique

Bernardelli. APO 188. Author’s underscore.

Mentioned in: WEISZ, S. de G. Estatu

ária e

ideologia: monumentos comemorativos de Rodolpho

Bernardelli no Rio de Janeiro. Dissertation (Mas

ters in Art Hirtory) – Rio de Janeiro: Escola

de Belas Artes, Universidade Federal do Rio

de Janeiro, 1996, p. 58.

Ibidem.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to Benjamin

Victor de Mendonça. Rio de Janeiro, April, the

12th, 1929. Private Collection, São Paulo.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to João Max-

imiano Mafra, Rome, August, the 2nd. 1881.

Author’s underscore.

GOBINEAU, A. D. Pedro II e o conde de Gob-

ineau: correspondencias ineditas. São Paulo: Com-

panhia Editora Nacional, 1938, p. 235.

Ibidem, p. 244.

Ibidem, p. 248.

Letter from José de Medeiros to Henrique

Bernardelli, Rio de Janeiro, June, the 20th,

1881. Historical Archive of the Museu Na

cional de Belas Artes. APO 68.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to João

Maximiano Mafra, Rome, March, the 17th,

1882. Historical Archive of the Museu Dom

João VI.

LAMBERTI. M. “Aporie dell’arte sociale: il

caso Proximus Tuus”. In: Annali della Scuola

Normale Superiore di Pisa. Pisa, série III, v.

XIII, 4, p. 1088.

Gonzaga Duque refers to a sculpture by Ber-

nardelli titled Hue!, which represents “a negro

crioula from Bahia, holding a small basket of

fruits, and that speaks up those words using a

gracious antic”, exhibited in the Faro & Nunes

Bookstore, in 1886. DUQUE-ESTRADA, L.

G. Impress

ões de um amador / textos esparsos de

crítica (1882-1909). Belo Horizonte: Editora

UFMG / Rio de Janeiro: Fundação Casa de

Rui Barbosa, 2001, p. 111-2.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to João

Maximiano Mafra, Rome, August, the 2nd,

1881. Historical Archive of the Museu Dom

João VI.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to João Max-

imiano Mafra, Rome, November, the 24th,

1879. Historical Archive of the Museu Dom

João VI.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to João

Maximiano Mafra, Rome, August, the 2nd,

1881. Historical Archive of the Museu Dom

João VI.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to João Max-

imiano Mafra, Rome, April, 1883. Historical

Archive of the Museu Dom João VI.

Letter from Rodolfo Bernardelli to João

Maximiano Mafra, Rome, July, the 17th,

1883. Historical Archive of the Museu Dom

João VI.

MIGLIACCIO, L. “Rodolfo Amoedo. O mes-

tre, deveríamos acrescentar”. In: MARQUES,

L. (ed.). 30 mestres da pintura no Brasil. São Paulo:

Masp, 2001, p. 35.

Ibidem. p. 35.

ROSE, M. “Introduction to the Dover Edi-

tion”. In: The Doré Bible illustrations. New York:

Dover Publications, 1974, p. v-ix.

DORE, G. La vie et l’oeuvre de Gustave Dore.

Paris : ACR, c. 1983.

PRIAN, F. Giulio Monteverde, scultore. Genova:

Universitá degli studi di Genova . Facoltá di Lettere

e Filosoﬁa, 1975-1976, v. 2, p. 88.

Ibidem, p. 13-4

BERNARDELLI, R. Jornal do Commercio. Rio de

Janeiro, year 63, n. 288, p. 1, Oct., the 16th, 1885.

Ibidem.

BERNARDELLI, R. O Paiz. Rio de Janeiro,

year 2, n. 287, p. 2, Oct., the 16th, 1885

Ibidem.

The same account was given in an article

by Somel. SOMEL.” Grupo em mármore:

Christo e a Adultera (impressões)“. Gazeta da

Tarde. Rio de Janeiro, year 6, n. 248, p. 2, Oct.,

the 28th, 1885.

BERNARDELLI, R. O Paiz. Rio de Janeiro,

year 2, n. 287, p. 2, Oct., the 16th, 1885.

“Esthetica Imperial”. Gazeta da Tarde. Rio de

Janeiro, year 6, n. 237, p. 1, Oct., the 15th, 1885.

FRANÇA J. Folhetins. 4th. ed. Rio de Janeiro:

Santos, 1926, p. 556.

Ibidem, p. 555.

Ibidem, p. 557.

VERIM, J. “Rodolpho Bernardelli”. Revista

Illustrada. Rio de Janeiro, year 10, n. 420, p. 2,

4-5. Oct., the 31st, 1885.

BERNARDELLI, R. Revista Illustrada. Rio de

Janeiro, year 10, n. 421, p. 6.

254 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Between the origin and the deg-

radation: the ﬁrst rehabilitation

of the building of the São Paulo

Art Museum

Alex Miyoshi

PhD student of History of Art,

IFCH/Unicamp

The São Paulo Art Museum was

founded in 1947, and during its early

years it did not have its own dedicated

structure. It was primarily housed in

the building of the Daily Associates of

publisher Assis Chateaubriand

. For the

museum to have its own headquarters

was a dream: with it, the museum could

improve and extend its activities.

The construction of the proper

building for the São Paulo Art Museum

(MASP) took eight years of intense

work. The persistence of the architect

Lina Bo Bardi

and the engineer José

Carlos de Figueiredo Ferraz

were fun-

damental to its completion. Both had

been faithfully dedicated to the project

of the new headquarters, working unrec

ompensed. The result was the opening

of a museum constructed with “meat,

bone and blood,”

raised in rude and

exposed concrete, enveloped by large

glass sheets. It is extraordinary to note

that the structure’s pillars stand 81 yards

apart – a world-wide record, according

to the literature. The museum would be

the property of the City of São Paulo,

which ﬁnanced its construction, and it

would be yielded in commodatum to the

museum. Both City Hall and the MASP

would share maintenance costs. Before

this arrangement, expenses had been

paid by Chateaubriand. After his death,

few months before the inauguration of

the new MASP, the Daily Associates

ceased funding the museum

Leaks

Shortly before its scheduled open

ing, the museum experienced its ﬁrst

leaks – in the main exhibition hall.

The

biggest concern of Pietro Maria Bardi

MASP’s founder and director, was to

protect the works art and ensure they

did not suffer damages. Considering

that the building was newly completed,

the problem was quite an awkward sur

prise. In Bardi’s view, the installation

of the concrete ﬂagstone waterproof

ing was certainly badly executed.

believed this was due to the fact that

the ﬁnal ﬁnishings were hurried, so as

not to delay the museum inauguration.

The director alerted the construction

company of the problem immediately.

While each party awaited a solution,

the leak reached and damaged a paint

ing.

Furious, Bardi contacted the party

he considered responsible for the “true

disaster,” the company that installed

the waterprooﬁng:

Independent of any action to be taken by

City Hall, in order to address this problem

and end this outrageous incident, we request

that you immediately solve the waterprooﬁng

failure. We must inform you that if a new

leak appears, we will have to close the Museum

to public visitation, and consequently inform

the press of the cause of the closing and the

responsible parties.

The waterproofing company de

fended itself, insisting that its service

was “perfect.”

It had also sent a re-

port to the construction contractor and

City Hall, where it reafﬁrmed a previ

ous comment, “that the longitudinal

beams must also be waterproofed – that

they were left untreated was the actual

cause of the water seepage and leak.”

City Hall requested a budget for the

waterprooﬁng of the beams, which was

approved and authorized by the con

struction company.

Just as this process was set to begin,

architect Lina Bo Bardi intervened to

stop it.

She explained to City Hall that

the procedure would alter “the natural

appearance of the concrete,” causing

“serious aesthetic problems.” Such con

sequences, to her, were unacceptable.

The concrete had to be “absolutely kept

as projected,” that is, without any cov

ering. As with Pietro Bardi,

Lina did

not believe that the leaks came from

the exposed concrete, but from faulty

waterprooﬁng.

Subsequent rains would generate

14 points of water inﬁltration, neces

sitating the removal of four works of

art from the exhibition hall. To make

City Hall or the construction company

solve the problem, Pietro Bardi again

threatened to close the museum and

explain to the public the reason for

doing so.

This tactic, however, did

not work and the museum continued

normal operations.

Lina came back from a European

trip expecting to ﬁnd the building “ﬁn

ished.”

In contrast, everything was

“falling to pieces due to mismanage

ment by City Hall.” Beyond the existing

leaks, dirt-bottomed reﬂecting pools

and a viaduct were constructed next to

the museum. The architect expressed

her dissatisfaction and again she asked

for remedies, strengthening her in

sistence that the exposed concrete be

kept as designed. This time, however,

she mentioned addressing “the pillar

leaks,” not the beam leaks.

I also want to solve the pillar leakage, to ﬁnd

a decent solution that doesn’t damage the concrete

as a painting can, even an invisible coating. That

type of workmanship would even further demor

alize the building. With the ‘dirt-lakes’ and the

pretty newness of the viaduct it’ll be soon one of

the prettiest “nastinesses” of São Paulo.

Indeed, the points of water entry

were not restricted to the roof of con

crete ﬂagstone – they were also present

in the pillars. Once again we see Lina

concerned with both the resolution of

the problem and the preservation of

the exposed concrete, which was cru

cial to the integrity of the building’s

architecture.

In order to seal the leaks in the ﬂag

stone, in 1973 small portions of the

original waterprooﬁng were removed

and these sites were treated with a new

application of sealant. That is, almost

RHAA 6 255

Traduções/Translations

the entire original waterprooﬁng was

kept, for two reasons – the water was

inﬁltrating only at speciﬁc points, and

patching speciﬁc spots would greatly

reduce the expense, which was paid

directly by the museum.

This serv-

ice would be guaranteed for a period

of ﬁve years, and would expire at the

same time as the guarantee of the ﬁrst

waterprooﬁng, which had been assured

for ten years. The price proposed by the

waterprooﬁng company was considered

fair, and its proposal was accepted by

the museum.

However, the problem persisted. In

1978, at the end of both guarantee peri

ods, a new and complete waterprooﬁng

would be made, this time paid for by

City Hall. According to an engineer at

City Hall, the waterprooﬁng had failed

with the passage of time.

The contrac-

tion and dilatation of the concrete ﬂag

stone had resulted in cracks – apertures

where the rain water had penetrated.

To adequately address the problem,

it would be necessary to remove the

material until reaching the underlying

concrete, and then apply a new coat of

waterprooﬁng.

The matter was published in the

press with the title: Humidity, a danger

to the works of art of the MASP. Exposed

to the public, this put the museum in

an uncomfortable situation, particu

larly embarrassing its director, Pietro

Bardi. In a reply to the article, Bardi

afﬁrmed that a problem with humid

ity didn’t exist and whoever argued to

the contrary was “a perfect imbecile.”

He stated that there was just “one or

two little leaks that appear only dur

ing strong rains,” and that those leaks

were equivalent to “thousandths of

a degree of the imbecile’s humidity.”

To the director, eventual temperature

and humidity ﬂuctuations would be

corrected by the air conditioning and

ventilation system.

In order to safely begin the service,

the City Hall engineer asked for perti

nent information, including the maxi

mum load the ﬂagstone supported, so

as not to put laborers and materials

above the capacity of the ﬂagstone on

the roof. Bardi kept the tone: “This is a

hard city – everybody has something to

say. For eight years I have had to make

repairs to the ﬂagstone. I would like to

catch ﬁfty of these imbeciles and put

them up there to fall down.”

His irritation had good reason: it was

the museum’s reputation which would

suffer from accusations of irresponsi

bility. Certainly, Bardi’s annoyance was

directed more to the negative repercus

sions of the matter than to the poor

engineer. To Bardi, City Hall was the

party mainly responsible for the prob

lem. When it did not act, he himself

took care of the waterprooﬁng. Accord

ing to Bardi, at the time of construc

tion, Lina had expressly recommended

the services of a particular company

whom she judged to be the most com

petent. Due to ﬁscal constraints, City

Hall selected another company based

on a more competitive bid. Soon after it

completed its service, the ﬁrst leaks ap

peared. The company responsible was

called to provide the repairs, but it had

gone into bankruptcy. Thus, the mu

seum, with its short resources, started

to undertake and perform its annual

repairs on its own.

These in-house repairs, however, did

not stop the leaks. In order to properly

address the problem, City Hall would

need to ﬁnance a professional water

prooﬁng.

In the meantime, the leaks

continued, as the museum’s appeals to

City Hall went unanswered. The mu

seum would continue functioning un

der these conditions until it reached its

breaking point.

More leaks

The second half of the 1980s was

the most critical period for the MASP.

Its problems were not restricted to

the roof: cracks and spots in the con

crete had appeared; the windows had

rusted; and cracks had developed in

the ﬂagstones of the street-level plaza.

The building had gotten to the point

that not only could the works of art

be damaged, but the utility of the

structure itself had become precari

ous. The image of the solid institution,

strengthened by its architecture, was

compromised by the appearance of

precocious ruin. The imposing struc

ture was, for the ﬁrst time, fragile and

threatened.

Among all its tribulations, however,

the leaks in the exhibition hall were the

most vexing.

In 1985, two engineers had been

called speciﬁcally to evaluate the state

of the roof.

During their inspection,

they had observed that the waterproof

thickness reached almost eight inches

– well beyond the normal limits.

The

explanation was simple: throughout

the years, trying to plug the leaks, the

museum applied successive, overlap

ping layers of waterprooﬁng without

removing the previous coats. With this,

the building structure was overloaded

with weight, reaching the equivalent of

200 pounds/square yard. This overload

contributed to the extreme deformation

of the ﬂagstone, resulting in a “pool” of

water six inches deep on the roof. This

increased not only the risk of leaks, but

also the weight on the roof and strain

on the structure.

The engineers had concluded that the

waterprooﬁng had to be completely re

moved, and new waterprooﬁng applied.

The MASP did not have the necessary

resources for this procedure. City Hall

did not even supply the museum with

sufﬁcient amounts of money for regular

maintenance; what it did provide was

managed frugally by Bardi.

Dona-

tions to the museum only helped fund

its normal activities and operations.

Beyond this, entry to the museum was

free for all, with the exception of some

events at the museum’s theatres. Thus,

the question was: how to obtain the

ﬁnancing for the rehabilitation?

256 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Clearly, the in-house repairs of the

concrete flagstone were ineffective

and actually harmful to the building.

However, there was another problem:

the exposed concrete of the pillars de

veloped rust spots, resulting from the

inﬁltration of water which reached the

internal and exposed metal supports.

This was to due to ﬂaws and imper

fections in the construction process.

To cure this pathology (and probably

distrusting that the museum adminis

tration could act effectively by itself, as

in the case of the waterprooﬁng) the

engineering ofﬁce of Figueiredo Fer

raz recommended a set of prophylaxis

procedures to address the damages.

The instructions were very clear. Fique

iredo was unremunerated – the assess

ment was a donation from him to the

MASP. While the museum didn’t have

the funds to contract a specialized com

pany, the solution was pragmatic: the

employees of the museum could refur

bish the exposed concrete. It wasn’t the

best solution, but at least the repairs

were done in a professional manner,

avoiding mishaps such as those that

had occurred in the ﬂagstone. Eve

rybody was tired of waiting for City

Hall to address the issues. The pallia

tive attitude of the museum followed

desperately from the negligence of the

successive city governments.

Throughout the ﬁrst part of 1986, at

least three letters had been sent from

the museum to the Department of Civil

Works at City Hall, requesting support

for the urgent building rehabilitation.

The letters received no reply,

so Bardi

personally appealed to the Cultural Sec

retary, Jorge Antonio Miguel Yunes,

asking for his intervention in the mat

ter.

This had positive results: the Sec-

retary requested that Civil Works send

a commission of engineers to inspect

the building immediately.

It is hard to understand why the De-

partment of Civil Works, accustomed to

receiving requests to repair buildings,

didn’t help the MASP immediately, of

its own volition. There are many pos

sible reasons: resistance to considering

the MASP as an institution belonging to

City Hall; the attrition of personnel with

successive administrations since the con

struction of the museum; a misunder

standing of the gravity of the situation;

interpersonal or political relationships;

the bureaucracy; etc. The most probable

cause, however, is that Bardi’s requests

for repairs were perceived as orders or

commands, which were not appreciated

by the Department of Civil Works. This

explains why Civil Works charged itself

with providing an inspection report, but

not a waterprooﬁng service.

This is an

example of the habitual tension between

the museum and City Hall, seen in each

step of the repair process.

With the report in hand, Bardi de

tailed the scope of what would be

done:

[...] a large and complete reform and restora

tion of the building structure, of all aluminum

frames of the immense glass panes, the ﬂoor at

the ground level, which forms the square, to

increase the security against ﬁre by expanding

the water reservoir, the refurbishment of the

electrical installation that has already aged 19

years [...] All these services and many others,

including the most delicate ones, are not only

for conservation or maintenance, but to rehabili

tate, restore and recover the building.

Bardi didn’t specify everything

that was in the inspection report – he

didn’t need to. But there was a signiﬁ

cant omission. The report indicated the

“general treatment with an application

of protective coating” on the “pillars,

ﬂagstone, beams and walls.”

That is,

it recommended covering the exposed

concrete. Certainly, Bardi deliberately

ignored this recommendation. Perhaps

the covering did not interest him at that

moment due to the other urgent items.

The museum prioritized the problems

related directly to preservation of the

works of art and minimized all others.

To stanch the water inﬁltration was the

most important thing. The remaining

repairs were secondary.

To obtain the necessary funds for

the rehabilitation, Bardi would attack

on two fronts: he began a donation

campaign to industry and business

leaders,

and requested a complemen-

tary amount of money from City Hall.

In the ﬁrst case, his careful devotion

would yield good results

. Bardi had

high hopes for his request to City Hall,

as it had recently approved the reha

bilitation of the old Municipal Thea

tre, and surely the MASP deserved the

same attention.

After much insistence on the part

of Bardi, Mayor Jânio Quadros ﬁnally

turned his attention to the museum.

In order to begin the most urgent step

– the roof waterprooﬁng – City Hall

ordered two new reports on the matter.

The contracted ofﬁces were the same

ones that had inspected the building in

1985: the ofﬁces of Dirceu Franco de

Almeida and Figueiredo Ferraz.

Both the reports had recommended

essentially the same measures, but with

one important difference. The ﬁrst re

port, that done by Dirceu Franco de

Almeida, was produced by an inde

pendent professional, with no ties to

the museum. He suggested the instal

lation of metallic rooﬁng tiles on the

covering, maintaining (with drawings

and speciﬁcations) that the structure of

the building would support the light

load of this new element and that it

would not modify the architecture of

the building. The other report, written

by the ofﬁce of Figueiredo Ferraz, did

not mention this procedure. In con

trast, Ferraz himself criticized the idea

of the rooﬁng tiles, recommending the

solution of the original project: simply

the waterproofed ﬂagstone. Ferraz dis

approved of measures “that burden the

structure with unacceptable additional

loads

or that compromise the architec-

tural forms.” He emphasized that he

was contacting Lina Bo “to search for

a solution affording both the necessity

of a good waterprooﬁng, and respect

for the aesthetic requirements.”

RHAA 6 257

Traduções/Translations

If we consider that the “architectural

forms” would change very little with

the installation of the metallic rooﬁng

tiles (simply because not many peo

ple would ever see the building from

above) and that their weight would not,

in fact, put the structure at risk, then

it becomes clear that the pride of the

report’s author was more salient than

his sense. Engineer Figueiredo Ferraz’s

position was that of an artist (holding

the integrity and purity of his work

manship above all else) rather than that

of a technician (searching for the best

solution to a practical problem). Clearly,

his intransigency regarding the preser

vation of the architecture was a natural

reaction for one who conceives of his

solution as being the ideal. Ferraz cor

rectly observed that the ﬂagstone wa

terprooﬁng was “a routine measure to

be taken at least every ﬁve years.”

But

he didn’t consider the ﬁnancial difﬁcul

ties of the museum (ﬁnanced almost ex

clusively with public resources), which

would be vastly alleviated with the in

expensive and simple maintenance of

the aluminum rooﬁng tiles. In the end,

of course, the proposal of Figueiredo

Ferraz won the competition.

Beyond the ﬂagstone waterproof

ing, another alarming problem showed

itself: the atypical deformation of the

structure. The large water puddles on

the roof were only one indication of

this problem. Many more cracks had

appeared in the ﬂagstone, and the steel

handles that supported the ﬁrst ﬂoor

showed considerable differences in ten

sion – some were very slack and others

very strained.

The solution would be

to add new steal handles to the longitu

dinal beams.

To do this, it was neces-

sary to inspect them internally.

The

beams were hollow inside, having been

ﬁlled with large empty wooden boxes to

make them lighter without altering their

structural behavior. These boxes are not

removed after the drying process of the

concrete – and thus they were dubbed

the “lost boxes.” These “lost boxes”

were large enough to allow the entry of

people. Thus, a window of access into

the interior of the beam was opened to

observe the state of the steel handles.

The technician entered there and found

some unexpected inhabitants – ter

mites, which had found in the beams an

ideal habitat: a humid environment and

plentiful food. This was yet one more

problem to be dealt with. Additional

windows had to be opened inside the

beams, enabling both a chemical treat

ment to exterminate the insects and the

removal of all the “lost boxes.”

sums of money were necessary and the

rehabilitation seemed unending.

Waiting

Although the negotiations were pro

ductive, the beginning of the actual

work was delayed. In the meantime,

approximately 40 leaks appeared in

the ceiling of the main exhibition hall.

To prevent the water from reaching the

works of art, initially it was enough to re

locate them slightly. Basins were placed

below the leaks, and around these were

erected temporary white wooden walls

which also served to support the re

located pictures.

This improvisation,

however, didn’t work for long, and the

art pieces would soon have to leave the

main exhibition hall.

Part of the solution to this dilemma

was proposed by Bardi – to negotiate

the loan of the museum’s Impressionist

masterpieces to the Milan Royal Palace.

This would be of great beneﬁt to the

MASP – beyond preserving the works

of art, it would also receive a donation

of funds in exchange.

The comple-

mentary solution was to transfer the

other works of art to the ﬁrst ﬂoor,

some to the temporary exhibition hall

and the others to the museum store

house.

The main exhibition hall was

empty, waiting for the rehabilitation,

and the other areas of the museum – its

administrative area, the restaurant, the

theatres and the library – continued

functioning,

although the museum’s

ambiance was discernibly dampened

for the museum employees.

The MASP operated this way for

more than year, expecting the immi

nent rehabilitation. Meanwhile, the

building agonized. The reasons for the

delay were the accounts of City Hall:

exhausted as always.

Wrap Up

The rehabilitation would ﬁnally be

gin in the middle of 1988.

It was not advantageous to wait, but

the result was better than anticipated.

City Hall opted to fund not only the in

itial foreseen work, but also the inspec

tion of the ventilation/air conditioning

system

and the waterprooﬁng of the

reﬂecting pools on the plaza level.

Before this, however, it was a prior-

ity to repair the waterprooﬁng of the

roof, clean the concrete by sand blasting

and repair the windows. These improve

ments would be responsible for what be

came the visual landmark of the reform:

a mounted metallic scaffolding raised

around the building, serving as truss

to the laborers, and which supported

a large blue nylon blanket that would

protect the pedestrians and the glass of

the windows against accidents, as well

as containing the solid particles expelled

during the cleaning of the concrete.

The blue canvas was so impressive

that comparisons to the works of art of

Christo had been inevitable.

In fact,

the presentation was reminiscent of

some of his interventions. Lina appreci

ated the new visual of the building, but

she didn’t foresee the failure of City Hall

to pay the construction company.

This

caused the discontinuation of the reha

bilitation,

and eventually postponed

– for almost one year – the removal of

the “art installation” a la Christo. Once

more, delays in the rehabilitation of the

museum were caused by City Hall.

A funding campaign was sponsored

by a bank

with the intention of form-

ing a group of partners to support the

258 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

museum. However, in ﬁve months only

the half of the capital to be invested

was collected. An events company

contrived another campaign, “Save the

MASP,” that never got off the drawing

board.

This effort would raise funds

with a toll in the avenue in front of the

MASP, where donators would receive

a sticker and a coupon entering them

into a drawing for a new car.

The need for resources put Bardi in an

extreme predicament. If necessary, the

museum would sell one of its precious

works of art, Baigneuse s’essuyant la jambe,

by Renoir.

The painting was valued at

approximately 5 million dollars, enough

to pay for the rehabilitation (estimated at

2 million dollars) with funds left over.

This possibility generated much discus

sion and many reactions, most of them

against the idea of the sale. In general,

the consensus understood Bardi’s posi

tion but disagreed with it. One of the

most vehement arguments was voiced

by the actor Umberto Magnani: “If a

museum needs to sell a work of art, we

don’t need a museum. It’s like selling a

car to buy gasoline.”

The picture, fortunately, was not sold.

Certainly, Bardi was more interested in

the repercussions of the issue than in

the loss of a relic. The MASP was able

to reach an agreement with the new ad

ministration of Mayor Luiza Erundina

at City Hall, which had led to the re

sumption of the rehabilitation.

To do

it, the scope of the repair was reduced

to the minimum necessary. City Hall

would provide funds to clean and treat

the concrete and repair the windows.

The remaining work (waterprooﬁng the

roof and reﬂecting pools, and repairing

the building interior) would have to be

directly ﬁnanced by the private initia

tive

and executed by companies con-

tracted by the MASP.

The release of

resources by City Hall was conditional

on the MASP securing complementary

resources, which it was committed to do

from the state and federal governments

and leaders in industry and business.

The MASP obtained the comple-

mentary funding. Once more it col

laborated with the ofﬁce of Figueiredo

Ferraz,

which provided its services for

the project without remuneration.

The

same arrangement had been made with

the CBPO, the Brazilian Company of

Projects and Workmanships,

and

several other partners. In exchange, of

course, the collaborators’ contributions

would be noted in plaques in front of

the building.

The rehabilitation ended and the

main exhibition hall would be ready for

reopening in the ﬁrst week of 1990.

Only repairs in the doors and blinds,

work on the electric installations, the

painting of the ceiling and general

cleaning remained to be done. Moreo

ver, a study to increase the illumination

points was prepared.

The rehabilita-

tion of the main exhibition hall seemed

ﬁnally ﬁnished.

Soft water erodes hard rock

Alas, the leaks continued.

Where was the problem? The water

prooﬁng was carefully executed. What

points remained vulnerable?

The only way to ﬁnd them was to

conduct a test.

Thus, the roof’s drains

were blocked and the cells of the ﬂag

stones were totally ﬁlled with water,

one at a time, creating immense pud

dles on the waterproofed surface. The

result was surprising: there were no

leaks. The waterprooﬁng was perfect.

However, when it rained and the

wind blew, the leaks continued.

So, the workmen decided to conduct

another test: submitting one of the

great concrete beams to water spurts

under high pressure.

After doing this, the cause ﬁnally was

identiﬁed: the water passed through the

exposed concrete beam, a highly porous

material that facilitated the penetration

and the percolation of water. The diag

nosis of the company who did the ﬁrst

ﬂagstone waterprooﬁng in 1968 was

correct. Bardi’s comment in 1978 now

gained full meaning

– the leaks had

appeared only when the rain was strong;

that is, when the pressure of the wind al

lowed the water to penetrate the beams.

We saw that the idea of covering the

concrete was refused by the architect

because it would cause “serious aesthetic

problems.” At the end of construction,

Lina not only opted to retain the ex

posed concrete, but also defended her

decision against the argument that the

beams needed to be waterproofed. The

architect believed the exposed concrete

was fundamental to the architectural

expression of the building – a com

mon option in the 1960s and 1970s

– and she didn’t expect such a choice

to compromise the museum. After all

of the problems throughout the years,

ﬁnally coating the structural beams

would mean recognizing a serious ﬂaw

in the project. The reputations of the

museum, the building, the engineer and

the architect would each be blemished.

The heroic image of the Brutalist ar

chitecture would be damaged. A good

explanation would be necessary to en

sure that this did not occur.

Fire engine red

An ink company that knew what

was happening at the MASP presented

a proposal to participate in the “re

newal of the façade of the building,”

donating products “applied for decades

world-wide to protect exposed concrete

against deterioration, the attack of indus

trial gases and microorganisms.”

The

“aesthetic and original characteristics of

the exposed concrete” could be kept, or,

if preferred, color and brightness could

be applied.

Wisely, the initiative would

be kept secret until the conclusion of

the negotiations and it was certain that

the work would be carried out.

Also,

wisely, the proposal was directed to the

architect Lina Bo Bardi.

The MASP accepted the proposal,

but instead of opting for a colorless

RHAA 6 259

Traduções/Translations

coating, an expressive color would be

applied – a red – in order to further

distinguish the structure of the build

ing.

Some color tests were done until a

tone was reached and selected by Lina:

ﬁre engine red.

The choice was a perfect one for the

ink company’s strategy, which put the

problem of the MASP as “a cultural

event” in a project involving architecture

and memory.

The project was “created

to stimulate the employ of colored inks

in buildings, to humanize the large city

environments.” Moreover, it aimed to

“reverse the trend of using inks in white

and ice colors,” which represented 70%

of the national ink consumption.

For the museum, it was an excellent

chance not only to solve the unend

ing problem of the leaks, but also to

recoup and fortify the credibility of

the institution. The change in the ap

pearance of the building would be a

turning point – a milestone. It was at

this time that Globo Net, the biggest

Brazilian television network, and Itaú, a

prestigious bank, promoted a campaign

to choose the architectural symbol of

São Paulo.

Even the MASP was not

chosen, the campaign would publicize

its new appearance.

There remained the need to present

a justiﬁcation for the red painting. In

fact, it was a technical matter – it was

necessary to waterproof the beams. But

why had they not been waterproofed

before?

The solution was in the building’s

history. According to the architect, the

idea to use the color red was an old

one.

It appeared in some early ele-

ments of the architectural project: in the

ﬁrst drawings, the gargoyles of the roof

were red;

in a perspective, the dark ash

of the ﬂagstone is presented against a

sky dyed in red; the “stairs-slopes” in

the museum’s civic hall had always been

red;

and, moreover, Lina had, in fact,

thought about painting the structure

red, as indicated in a sketch probably

done at the end of the 1950s.

However, it had been the conclusive

orientation of the architect to keep the

concrete free of any painting or cove

ring. This is clearly shown in the corres

pondence between her, the contractors

and City Hall. The presence of red ele

ments in the early project didn’t matter.

What mattered is how the justiﬁcation

for the red painting was presented to

the public.

In general, the press published ac

counts along these lines:

If the project of Lina Bo Bardi was consid

ered audacious in 1968, when the São Paulo

Art Museum was inaugurated, its impact

would have been even larger if the four great

beams of suspension had displayed the red color

they now do. The original and vanguardist idea

of the architect was retaken to solve water inﬁl

tration problems that have persisted for the three

years of the building’s restoration. As Lina’s

staff architect, Marcelo Ferraz, remembers, the

painting fulﬁlled a dual purpose: to its technical

function was added an aesthetic one.

The red color as the “original idea”

was incorporated into the mythic ori

gin of the building: the glorious history

of the MASP resurfaces in postponed

triumph. The painting was discarded

in 1968 because “its impact would have

been even larger” – perhaps because

the Brazilian military dictatorship saw

the color red as subversive; and Lina,

as we know, was a communist. Fur

thermore, the facts were never totally

clariﬁed, and were only partially ex

plained, with distortions. For instance,

“inﬁltration problems” did not only

persist “for the three years of the build

ing’s restoration,” as the article claims,

but since before its inauguration – for

more than twenty years. But this was

a delicate moment for the museum:

the honor of the MASP could not be

besmirched beyond what was done by

the rehabilitation itself. The reluctance

to assume responsibility for the error

was based on a desire to preserve the

reputations of the museum, the build

ing, the engineer and the architect as

heroes, not villains, of history. This was

a defensive attitude that, as Georges

Duby recalls, “obviously exaggerates

the merits, concentrating all the light

on them, and keeps in the shadows

what was less glorious – even erasing

that which could tarnish the image.”

A signiﬁcant change occurred at the

same time as the visual transformation

of the building: Bardi yielded the direc

torship of the museum to Fábio Magal

hães, who had assisted him for months

before, especially with the problems

during the rehabilitation. The nonage

narian professore declined the offer to be

the museum’s honorary president. He

led the museum for more than forty

years, doing more good than harm. He

deserved to rest. One stage was end

ing and another beginning, renewing

insistent hopes for a better MASP.

Translation: Alex Miyoshi

Revision: Todd Malpass

Francisco de Assis Chateaubriand Bandeira de

Melo was born in Umbuzeiro, State of Paraíba,

Brazil in 1892, and died in São Paulo, in 1968.

He was proprietor of an immense net of media

outlets in Brazil, and actively participated in

the cultural and political life of the country.

He conceived and established the São Paulo

Art Museum, which today takes his name.

For further details of his life, see MORAIS,

Fernando. Chat

ô, o rei do Brasil. São Paulo: Cia

das Letras, 1994.

Lina Bo Bardi was born in Rome in 1914

and died in São Paulo in 1992. The wife

of Pietro Maria Bardi, she was Editor of

Habitat magazine. She designed buildings,

teatral scenes, furniture, jewels and objects.

Among her noted works is her residence, the

Glass House – the current headquarters of

the Lina Bo and Pietro Maria Bardi Institute

– and the SESC-Pompéia building, both in

São Paulo. For more details of her life, see

FERRAZ, Marcelo Carvalho (org.). Lina Bo

Bardi. São Paulo: Instituto Lina Bo e P. M.

Bardi, 1993.

260 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Figueiredo Ferraz was born in 1918 and died

in 1994, in São Paulo. In 1941, he established

his ofﬁce that still stands today with his name,

developing projects in the sectors of transporta

tion, energy, sanitation, industry and the envi

ronment, among others. He was Mayor of São

Paulo in the decade of the 1970s. Further infor

mation is available in: <http://www.ﬁgueiredo

ferraz-eng.com.br/>. Accessed May 26, 2006.

COELHO, Neusa Pinheiro. “Museum con-

structed with meat, bone and blood”. Diario da

Noite - Edição Nacional (Journal). São Paulo,

Sep-

tember 6, 1968. São Paulo. MASP Library.

Interview with Luiz Hossaka, September 8,

2005.

Letter from the MASP, signed by P.M. Bardi,

to Mr. Maury de Freitas Julião, the City Hall

Civil Works Director. São Paulo, October 25,

1968. MASP Library.

P. M. Bardi was born in La Spezia, Italy in

1900, and died in São Paulo in 1999. He was

a journalist, historian, collector and marchand

of art. After World War II he settled in São

Paulo, becoming an important ﬁgure in the

Brazilian arts scene. He helped the publisher

Assis Chateaubriand to create the São Paulo

Art Museum. For further details of his life, see

TENTORI, Francesco. P. M. Bardi. São Paulo:

Instituto Lina Bo e P. M. Bardi, 2000.

Letter from the MASP, signed by P.M. Bardi,

to Mr. Aloísio A. D’Andrea Pinto, Heleno &

Fonseca Building Company Engineer. São

Paulo, January 27, 1969. MASP Library.

Letter from the MASP, signed by P.M. Bardi,

to the Directors of the Reviwa Waterprooﬁng

Company. São Paulo, April 16, 1969. MASP

Library.

Letter from Reviwa Waterprooﬁng Com-

pany to the MASP. São Paulo, April 23, 1969.

MASP Library.

Letter signed by Lina Bo Bardi to Mr. Maury

de Freitas Julião. São Paulo, February 27, 1969.

BCDMASP.

Letter from the MASP, signed by P.M. Bardi,

to Reviwa Waterprooﬁng Company. São Paulo,

April 28, 1969. BCDMASP.

Letter from the MASP, signed by P.M. Bardi,

to Heleno & Fonseca Building Company, the

City Hall Civil Works Department and the

City Hall Education Department. São Paulo,

January 16, 1970. BCDMASP.

Letter signed by Lina Bardi to Mr. Joaquim

Mario – Heleno & Fonseca Building Com

pany. São Paulo March 3, 1970. ALBB.

Letter from Cyrino Building Company to the

MASP. São Paulo, November 5, 1973. MASP

Library.

Letter from the MASP signed by Engineer

Roberto Rochlitz. São Paulo, November 19,

1973. MASP Library.

“Humidity, a danger to the works of art of the

MASP.” Folha de S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo,

July 26, 1978. MASP Library.

“Bardi: the MASP does not have humidity.”

Folha de S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo, August

1, 1978. MASP Library.

“Where there are leaks, there is humidity.” Folha de

S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo, August 2, 1978.

MASP Library.

Typed document. Register of the visit of En-

gineer Nelson Zahr (from the ofﬁce of Figue

iredo Ferraz) and Dirceu Franco de Almeida,

Civil Works Pathologist. May 21, 1985. MASP

Library.

Interview with Engineer Nelson Zahr, May

25, 2006.

“Bardi ‘rains in the wet spot.’ And he de-

nounces.” O Estado S. Paulo (Journal). São

Paulo, July 16, 1987, p. 7. MASP Library.

SÃO PAULO ART MUSEUM BUILDING

- PROCEDURES FOR THE RECOVERY

OF THE DAMAGED CONCRETE. Typed

document from the ofﬁce of Figueiredo Fer

raz to the MASP. July 5, 1985 (date written by

hand). MASP Library.

“The challenge of the museum.” A Construção

em S

ão Paulo Magazine. São Paulo, July 20, 1987,

#2058, p. 1. MASP Library.

Letter from the MASP signed by P.M. Bardi

to Mr. Jorge Antonio Miguel Yunes, Cultural

Secretary, City Hall, June 18, 1986. MASP

Library.

Letter from the MASP signed by P.M. Bardi

to Engineer José Carlos de Figueiredo Ferraz,

November 13, 1986. MASP Library.

Letter from the MASP signed by P.M. Bardi to

Edmundo Monteiro, President of the MASP,

January 8, 1987. MASP Library.

Letter from the MASP signed by P.M. Bardi to

Edmundo Monteiro, President of the MASP,

January 7, 1987. MASP Library.

Report of the Department of Civil Works,

City Hall to Jânio Quadros, Mayor of São

Paulo. MASP Library.

Letter from the MASP signed by P.M. Bardi

to Mr. Paulo Maluf (Eucatex), Mrs. Carmem

Machline (Sharp S.A.) and Mr. Antonio Er

mírio de Moraes (Votorantim), May 20, 1987;

to Mr. Valentim Santos Diniz and Mr. Henry

Maksoud (Hidroservice Engineering), May

26, 1987. MASP Library.

Letter from the MASP signed by P.M. Bardi to

Engineer Nelson Zahr, July 30, 1987. MASP

Library.

Letter from Figueiredo Ferraz to Pietro Maria

Bardi, signed by José Carlos de Figueiredo Fer

raz. REPORT ON THE CURRENT WATER

PROOFING CONDITIONS OF THE MASP

BUILDING. March 1987. MASP Library.

Letter from Figueiredo Ferraz to Pietro Maria

Bardi, signed by José Carlos de Figueiredo

Ferraz. MASP Library.

Letter from Figueiredo Ferraz to Edmundo

Monteiro, signed by José Carlos de Figueir

edo Ferraz. São Paulo, March 23, 1987. MASP

Library.

Interview with Engineer Roberto Rochlitz,

September 8, 2005.

The addition of new steel handles was com-

pleted later, in 1999. Report of the Experi

mental Engineering Ofﬁce. November, 1999.

Figueiredo Ferraz Library.

Interview with Engineer Nelson Zahr, May

26, 2006.

Letter from Tecnomad to the MASP, signed

by Director Pedro Antonio Zanotto. São

Paulo, May 5, 1987. MASP Library.

“The challenge of the museum.” Op. Cit.

BCDMASP.

“Dribbling the leak.” AﬁnalMagazine. São

Paulo, March 1, 1988, p. 17. MASP Library.

It was not the ﬁrst time something similar

occurred. In 1973, some works of art were

loaned to the Tokio Occidental Art Museum,

which forwarded USD$100,000 to the MASP.

GONÇALVES FILHO, Antonio. “MASP

sends pictures to Italy.” Folha de S. Paulo (Jour

nal). São Paulo, 23 de abril de 1987. MASP

Library.

“Umbrella.” Aﬁnal Magazine. São Paulo, No-

vember 17, 1987, p. 20. “Leaks divide paint

ers.” O Estado de S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo,

November 12, 1987, Caderno 2, p. 8. MASP

Library.

“A trip through the greatest art in São Paulo.”

Jornal Centro - Centro Empresarial de S

ão Paulo.

São Paulo, #17/1988, p. 7. MASP Library.

“MASP undergoes rehabilitation to protect

pictures against leaks.” Folha da Tarde (Journal).

São Paulo, April 6, 1988. MASP Library.

GONÇALVES, Heinar. “Twenty years after

its inauguration, MASP undergoes its ﬁrst re-

habilitation.” Gazeta Mercantil (Journal). São

Paulo, May 5, 1988. MASP Library.

“FOR A GIFT - Wrapped up in plastic, the

MASP gets its ﬁrst rehabilitation.” Veja SP

Magazine. São Paulo, August 10, 1988, p. 110.

“MASP in works until the beginning of 1989.”

Folha de S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo, August

31, 1988, p. C-3. MASP Library.

The government of Mayor Jânio Quadros would

leave his successor, Mayor Luiza Erundina, a

debt twice as large as it was left by the preced

ing administration, that of Mayor Mário Covas.

“Debts and deﬁcit, the inheritance of Jânio.” O

Estado de S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo, Decem

ber 14, 1988, p. 1. MASP Library.

Veja SP Magazine. São Paulo, March 29, 1989,

p. 7. MASP Library.

RHAA 6 261

Traduções/Translations

“HARD DAYS OF THE PACKED MU-

SEUM.” Veja SP Magazine. São Paulo, Febru

ary 22, 1989, pp. 14-20. MASP Library.

Project “Save the MASP,” by Grottera & Cia.

First semester of 1989. MASP Library.

A similar matter occurred when the building

was in construction. The need for money led

the museum to pledge and resell a picture back

to its original owner – Gauguin’s “Joseph and

the Putifar’s wife.” “THE ROYAL INAUGU

RATION OF A NEW MUSEUM.” Jornal do

Brasil. Rio de Janeiro, October 31, 1968. Cad

erno b, p. 6. MASP Library.

Beyond Magnani, actress Esther Góes and art

critic Sabato Magaldi had also disagreed with

the sale. “YOU CAN LOSE THIS RENOIR.”

Jornal Espig

ão da Paulista. São Paulo, March 17

to 30, 1989, #1, p. 1. MASP Library.

Letter from City Hall to the MASP, signed by

architect Mayumi Watanabe de Souza Lima,

EDIF Director, to Fábio Magalhães. São

Paulo, June 23, 1989. MASP Library.

ANDERÁOS, Ricardo. “City Hall frees

resources to restart the rehabilitation of the

MASP.” Folha de S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo,

July 4, 1989, p. E-3. MASP Library.

Letter from City Hall to the MASP, signed

by José Eduardo Martins Cardozo, to Ed

mundo Monteiro. São Paulo, September 29,

1989. MASP Library.

PROTOCOL OF INTENTIONS. Minutes of

meeting, May 3, 1989. MASP Library. The Bra

desco Bank donated almost all of the neces

sary sums for the rehabilitation. BRADESCO

CONTRIBUTES TO THE REOPENING OF

THE MASP. July 6, 1989. MASP Library.

Workmanship: MASP – ROOF WATER-

PROOFING. Technical report from the ofﬁce

of Figueiredo Ferraz. MASP Library.

Interview with Engineer Nelson Zahr, May

26, 2006.

“Work restarted at the MASP: the truss will

leave this month.” Jornal Espig

ão da Paulista.

São Paulo, September 89, #6, year 1, cover.

MASP Library.

Interview with Engineer Nelson Zahr, May

26, 2006.

In fact, the main exhibition hall would be

reopened March 19, 1990, with the President

of Portugal, Mário Soares, present – at the

same time that some works of art were re

turning from expositions around the world.

“From Rafael to Picasso, the MASP works

of art return to the nest.” Jornal da Tarde. São

Paulo, March 19, 1990. MASP Library.

Letter from the MASP, signed by Fábio

Magalhães, to Mrs. Maria do Carmo. Decem

ber 19, 1989. MASP Library.

Interview with Engineer Nelson Zahr, May

25, 2006.

Bardi stated that there was just “one or two lit-

tle leaks that appear only during strong rains.”

“Bardi: MASP does not have humidity.” Folha

de S. Paulo (Journal). São Paulo, August 1,

1978. MASP Library.

Some architects in Brazil have works noted

for the use of this material – for example: João

Batista Vilanova Artigas and Paulo Mendes

da Rocha. KAMITA, João Masao. Vilanova

Artigas. São Paulo: Cosac & Naify Edições.

2000. ARTIGAS, Rosa (org.). Paulo Mendes

da Rocha. São Paulo: Cosac & Naify; Associ

ação Brasil 500 Anos Artes Visuais; Fundação

Bienal de São Paulo, 2000.

The ink company contacted the museum some

years before, when Bardi searched for sup-

port to do the ﬂagstone waterprooﬁng. Letter

signed by P.M. Bardi to José Carlos de Figue

iredo Ferraz, May 20, 1987. BCDMASP.

Letter from Bayer do Brasil S.A. to Lina Bo

Bardi, signed by R. Hilkemeyer; Th. Engbert.

July 20, 1989. MASP Library.

Letter from Glasurit do Brasil Ltda., signed

by Arnaldo Hauptmann and Ricardo Botelho,

to Fábio Magalhães (MASP). São Bernardo do

Campo, May 30, 1990. MASP Library.

Letter from Fábio Magalhães to Roberto Gou-

lart (Glasurit), May 2, 1990. MASP Library.

“Museum gains red beams and ﬂagstones.”

Projeto Magazine. São Paulo, #134, 1990. MASP

Library.

Letter from Glasurit do Brasil Ltda., signed

by Arnaldo Hauptmann and Roberto Goulart

to Fábio Magalhães (MASP). São Bernardo do

Campo, May 15, 1990. MASP Library.

“Glasurit paints the MASP.” Química Indus-

trial-SP Magazine. São Paulo, August 1990, pp.

10-11. MASP Library.

Letter signed by Fábio Magalhães to Rob-

erto Goulart (Glasurit), May 29, 1990. MASP

Library.

“MASP employs three thousand liters of ink

to paint pilasters red.” Folha de S. Paulo (Jour-

nal). São Paulo, August 17, 1990. Caderno

Ilustrada, p. E-3. MASP Library.

Lina Bo Bardi’s drawing, September 18, 1965.

Instituto Lina Bo e Pietro Maria Bardi.

In the drawing, in the ceiling of the plaza of

the museum, there are two signiﬁcant words

in mirrors: “LIBERDADE” (freedom) and

“SOLIDÃO” (solitude). L’ombra della sera. Lina

Bo Bardi’s drawing, November 5, 1965. Insti

tuto Lina Bo e Pietro Maria Bardi.

“più bello – struttura cemento armado dipinta rossa”

(prettier – red painted concrete structure).

Lina Bo Bardi’s drawing, no date. Instituto

Lina Bo e Pietro Maria Bardi.

“The color of passion.” AU Magazine. São

Paulo, Oct./Nov. 1990, #32, p. 23, Ed. Pini.

This is a direct translation from the Brazil-

ian version of the original French of Georges

Duby’s work, Guillaume le Mar

échal ou le meiller

chevalier du monde (Librarie Arthème Fayard,

1984). There are several English versions. One

of them is William Marshal: the Flower of

Chivalry. New York: Pantheon Books, 1986.

A reﬂection on the situation of

Cultural Heritage in Portugal

Lucília Belchior

Master in “Architectonical and Landscape

Heritage Recovery”, University of Évora

As all concepts, the present concept

of Cultural Heritage (and those con

nected to this area: conservation, resto

ration, remodelling, among others) will

change. Anyway, what certainly will not

change is the notion of the importance

of protecting that same Heritage.

According to the chronological

time or to the country, the idea of

Heritage has also changed, having as

its fundamental points of change, the

society, politics, economy, philosophy

and the religion each civilization had.

But this change of concepts, according

to a certain era, is the key of knowl

edge to fully understand our Cultural

Heritage.

Portugal was not indifferent to the

passage of time and to the change of

concepts related to this theme. The

inevitableness of protecting the Her

itage of our country soon appeared

and it was due to His Highness João

V that one of the ﬁrst legislative texts

on the protection of monuments ap

peared (1721).

262 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

However, it was only in 1985 that

the ﬁrst Law of Portuguese Cultural

Heritage emerged (264 years after

one of the ﬁrst legislative texts and

84 years after the proclamation of the

assessment criteria for immobiles that

should be considered to be National

Monuments, in 1901). Sixteen years

had passed on the ﬁrst appearance of

the Heritage Law in Portugal, when

the Law of Bases of Politics and Regi

men of Protection and Valuation of

Cultural Heritage emerged, on Sep

tember 8th 2001.

Hand in hand with legislation, many

other organisms appeared with the ob

jective of protecting and managing the

Portuguese Heritage, such as: Junta

Nacional da Educação (JNE) – (Na

tional Education Committee); Academia

Nacional de Belas-Artes (ANBA)- (Na

tional Academy of Fine Arts); Direcção

Geral dos Edifícios e Monumentos

Nacionais (DGEMN)- (General Direc

tion of National Buildings and Monuments);

Comissão Organizadora do Instituto

de Salvaguarda do Património Cul

tural e Natural (COISPCN)-(Organiz

ing Committee of the Cultural and

Natural

Heritage Defence Institute); Instituto de

José de Figueiredo-( José de Figueiredo

Institute); Instituto Português de Con

servação e Restauro (IPCR)-(Portuguese

Institute of Conservation and Restoration);

Instituto Português do Património

Cultural (IPPC)-(Portuguese Institute

Cultural Heritage); Instituto Português

do Património Arquitectónico e Ar

queológico (IPPAR)-(Portuguese Institute

of Architectonical and Archaeological

Herit-

age); Instituto Português do Património

Arquitectónico (IPPAR)-(Portuguese

In-

stitute of Architectonical Heritage); Insti

tuto Português de Arqueologia (IPA)-

(Portuguese Institute of Archaeolog y).

There have always been and there are

still various organisms whose function

is to protect Heritage. However, this

proliferation of organisms gave rise to

an enormous complexity on what their

activity on the ﬁeld is concerned.

Could we assert that, concerning

the competences of each organism, the

laws are not sufﬁciently clear yet? At

the moment, we have three great or

ganisms responsible for the protection

of the Portuguese Heritage, namely

the General Direction of National Buildings

and Monuments (Direcção Geral do Ed

ifícios e Monumentos Nacionais), the

Portuguese

Institute of Architectonical Herit-

age (Instituto Português do Património

Arquitectónico) and the Portuguese Insti

tute of

Archaeology (Instituto Português

de Arqueologia). Legally, these are the

organisms in charge of giving one’s

opinion and/or making interventions

in this area.

We mark out the General Direction of

National Buildings and Monuments (Di

recção Geral dos Edifícios e Monu

mentos Nacionais (DGEMN)) since

74 years after its creation (1929), it is

still working. Notwithstanding the fact

that many organisms have been extin

guished, created or modiﬁed over these

years, the DGEMN has always man

aged to impose its vigour and, despite

many improvements, most part of its

competences in this area have been

maintained.

A consequence of this situation is

the constant “struggle” between the

DGEMN and the other organisms that

also have the function of protecting our

Heritage.

A good example of that state is

the situation occurring between the

DGEMN and the IPPAR who have

always fought for the delimitation of

the activity areas of each institution.

The position of these organisms has

been evident until our days.

In this situation the issue of com

petences is aggravated mainly when

we talk about classiﬁed immobiles not

belonging to the IPPAR or to Herit

age inventories, where an overlapping

of competences might happen. This

complex situation started when the IP

PAR assumed the execution of works,

which did not happen initially.

To worsen the matter, both organ

isms depend on different ministries,

with their own groups of pressure.

Concerning the IPA-IPPAR, even

though the competences are well de

ﬁned, the fact is that the issues related to

Archaeology are divided between both

of them. That situation and the corre

spondent loss of competences by the IP

PAR has, sometimes, caused difﬁculties

of relationship, articulation and coopera

tion between the two Institutes.

The appearance of Law nr 16

A/2002,

which marked the fusion of the IPA

with the IPPAR has, once again, raised

several issues. Which one was the best

solution? To gather everything that

was related to Archaeology in a single

Institute (though there could appear

less clear cases, specially those about

monuments with a strong archaeologi

cal component); or, as it is foreseen, to

unite the Institutes again (which could

bring the mitigation of Archaeology

comparing to the great importance held

by Architectonical Heritage)? Another

solution was to maintain the present

model (guaranteeing a real articulation

between both organisms).

In any way, there are many questions

in our mind: Were the organisms act

ing correctly, according to their func

tion? We can’t forget to point out all

the work developed by the IPA during

these years. Will there be a permanence

of that work after its integration in the

IPPAR?

There is no answer for these ques

tions right now, but having knowledge

of the course of the organisms related

to Heritage in Portugal, we can imag

ine that, probably, over the next years

everything might change once again.

However, the doubt still remains when

we talk about the DGEMN that is still

untouchable.

As a product of this situation, we

continue with a conﬂict about the de

limitation of acting areas that will, no

doubt, raise delays and complications

RHAA 6 263

Traduções/Translations

in the interventions to carry out, even

when each organism has its compe

tences legislated and circumscribed.

The situation is complex. Maybe due

to the fact that the best way to work

together was not found yet and, on the

contrary, what stands out, almost always,

is the competition between organisms.

Still, we must state that all of these

organisms have contributed in an

unique way to the preservation of Her

itage in Portugal: the DGEMN shows

the tradition of carrying out works with

a high level of effectiveness and per

formance; the IPPAR has assumed a

bigger concern from the heritage point

of view in its recovery works; the IPA

has managed to dignify the Portuguese

Archaeology at an international level

and has contributed, in an exceptional

way, for the inventorying and conse

quent diffusion of the Archaeological

Portuguese Heritage.

Maybe what is fundamental is to ﬁnd

the best solution from an operational

point of view, that is to say, to imple

ment mechanisms that can assure the

effective protection of Heritage Proper

ties integrated in the environment they

are set in (urban or rural).

The news that we can observe,

through the different Media, seems to

point to a lack of deﬁnition concern

ing the functions of the future Herit

age Institute. The existence of various

groups of pressure related to the in

terventions on Heritage, as well as the

management of places and monuments

presently depending on the IPPAR, has

set the supposition of a possible affec

tation of some of those monuments to

the DGEMN and also to the Portuguese

Institute of Museums (Instituto Português

de Museus (IPM)).

If that transfer really happens, we can

conclude that the capability of interven

ing of the future Heritage Institute may

be extremely affected, because most

earnings of today’s IPPAR come from

those same monuments and places.

Another question that remains un

deﬁned is of which Ministry (of Cul

ture, Public Works Department or

Environment) should be responsible

for the guardianship of Heritage? Find

ing a solution for this matter seems a

very complex job, even because of the

extension of the concept of Heritage,

which has become comprehensive.

Being a question worthy of a serious

debate without complexes, because it

has many possible options, we afﬁrm

our opinion that the patrimonial mat

ters belong, above all, to the scope of

culture, and the other aspects should

integrate this priority.

We also consider that the changes

must sue the structures that would lead

to a change of mentality of the people in

relation to Heritage. Despite being well

marked in the different Fundamental

Laws of the various organisms, the ques

tion of Heritage divulgation among peo

ple has not achieved the intended aim.

To conﬁrm this statement we can take a

look at some museums or cultural routes

(they are in a complete lack of visitors).

We have observed, inclusively, that

many Heritage areas have been ban

ished to a second plan, such as the case

of the ethnographic area. So, we think

that maybe it would be more important

to value actions and solutions in these

areas instead of changing or extinguish

ing organisms from times to times.

We will not ﬁnish this reﬂection

without referring to some data regis

tered in Portugal about the condition of

our Museums and Architectonical Her

itage, based on the document “Estatís

ticas da Cultura, Desporto e Recreio

– 2000”

(Statistics of Culture, Sports and

Entertainment). These data reinforce our

concern mentioned in this thought.

Relatively to museums, the 201 con

sidered in this study registered a total

of 7,4 million visitors (which means

an average of 37 000 people per mu

seum, per year), 1,3 millions belonging

to school groups (about 17 per cent of

all visitors).

[Table 1.1]

So, we can stress that the region of

Lisbon and Vale do Tejo is at the top of

the list presenting more Museum visi-

tors, followed by the North and Cen-

tre of the country (even so, with less

than half the visitors). The southern

regions of the country and the islands

are the ones that attract fewer visitors.

The groups from school, with their 17

per cent, reinforce the idea that it is

essential to implement some actions in

this area with the aim of developing a

Heritage consciousness.

We also observed that the most vis

ited places were the Museums built in

Monuments (34 per cent). There is no

doubt that this is an important fact, be-

cause it shows the people’s receptiveness

for monumental buildings. We can de-

duct something on what concerns the

way of attracting more visitors to muse-

ums in the future (since their preference

is well known). Inherent to this element

is also the place and the way of imple-

menting a museum (maybe the answer

is to build the museum in situ).

As to the Architectonical Heritage,

the referred study registered 4032 pro

tected immobiles, 65 per cent belong-

ing to the category of Public Interest Im-

mobiles and 21 per cent that of National

Monuments.

The study proves, once again, that

the region of Lisbon is the one that

has more protected immobiles (1089),

presenting the other regions a much

smaller number: Beja (274), Castelo

Branco (249), Portalegre (272) and Ilha da

Madeira (295).

[Table 1.2]

Relatively to the division of Classi-

ﬁed Immobiles according to the time

of building, the statistic study points

out the “Baroque/Rococo/ Pombaline”

period as the one with more classiﬁed

elements (2323), followed by the “Man

264 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

nerist/Renaissant” period (1 398) and the

“Medieval/Gothic”(1 319). The period of

Prehistory is, on the contrary, the one

with less classiﬁed goods (188), such as

the Roman Period (272) and the one

that refers to the New Art (206).

[Table 1.3]

With respect to the architectonical

typology, the study conﬁrms that the

Monuments with a religious architec

ture are the most attractive to the en

tities associated to Heritage, when we

talk about classiﬁcation aspects. Only

surpassed by the civil architecture (3

790), the religious architecture monu

ments compose the biggest part of the

classiﬁed elements, 41 per cent (3 521).

The military architecture owns 5 per

cent (395) and the sets have 248 clas

siﬁed elements.

[Table 1.4]

It is the analysis of these data, of the

legislative process and course/ action

of the different organisms that allow

us to make a reﬂection on the present

Heritage setting in Portugal.

All the information collected points

out to a patrimonial politics that has

to be renewed in various sectors. The

diversity of ideas and criteria of actions

has given origin to different ways of

intervening. Those ways have marked

the difference in terms of quality and

quantity, in all the regions of the coun

try. The lack of information mecha

nisms has also removed people from

this area, which belongs to all of us. It

is necessary to stop time erosion, not

only on monuments but also on men’s

mentality.

Translated by: Daniela Henriques

This reﬂection is presented in the essay of

the Mastership thesis, defended in the Uni

versity of Évora on April 13

2004, named

“Integration of Archaeological Vestiges in the

Historical Centre of Beja: A contribute for its

Integrated Conservation”.

Statistics of Culture, Sports and Entertainment- 2000.

Lisbon: National Statistics Institute, 2002.

Table adapted from: Statistics of Culture, Sports

and Entertainement-2000. Lisbon: National Sta

tistics Institute, 2002, page 32.

Table adapted from: Statistics of Culture, Sports

and Entertainmen-2000. Lisbon: National Sta

tistics Institute, 2002, page 38.

Table adapted from: Statistics of Culture, Sports

and Entertainmen-2000. Lisbon: National Sta

tistics Institute, 2002, page 39.

Table adapted from: Statistics of Culture, Sports

and Entertainmen-2000. Lisbon: National Sta

tistics Institute, 2002, page 40.

RHAA 6 265

Traduções/Translations

Table 1.1 Museum visitors by region, in 2000

Region From schools Total

North 260,575 910,720

Centre 156,855 768,981

Lisboa e

Vale do Tejo

762,442 4,812,348

Alentejo 22,618 126,166

Algarve 37,745 616,767

Azores 5,001 30,595

Madeira 20,685 1,001,999

Total 1,265,921 7,367,576

Table 1.2 Inventory of Architectonical Heritage

Region MN

IIP

INP

VCR/L

Total

Aveiro 14 71 30 372 - 487

Beja 24 64

2 184 - 274

Braga 63 139 19 309

- 530

Bragança 24 108

9 260 - 401

Castelo

Branco

11 71 22 145

- 249

Coimbra 44 114 30 185

- 373

Évora 102 99

9 160 - 370

Faro 25 77 20 207

- 329

Guarda 57 166 23 479

- 725

Leiria 27 97 27 263

- 414

Lisboa 116 382 44 547

- 1,089

Portalegre 59 89

9 115 - 272

Porto 76 189 32 346

- 643

Santarém 41 111 81 142

- 375

Setúbal 24 58 21 207

- 310

V. Castelo 54 132 16 306

- 508

Vila Real 25 96 13 273

- 407

Viseu 40 191 27 207

- 465

Azores

1 322 53 30 - 406

Madeira

7 29 25 153 81 295

Total 834 2,605 512 4,890 81 8,922

Table 1.3 Division of Classiﬁed Immobiles, according

to the time of building

Prehistory 188

Roman 272

Medieval/Gothic 1,319

Manueline 755

Mannerist/Renaissant 1,398

Baroque/Rococo/Pombaline 2,323

Romantic/Neoclassical/Revivalistic 792

New Art/Modernist 206

Popular 368

Without information 1,044

Total 8,665

Table 1.4 Distribution of Immobiles by Architectonical

type

Religious Architecture 3,531

Military Architecture 395

Civil Architecture 3,790

Sets 248

Sites 586

Without information 115

Total 8,665

266 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

Archaeological researches in

the central region of São Paulo

State – Fapesp Project

Pedro Paulo A. Funari

Professor, IFCH/Unicamp

Associate-coordinator of the Center for Strategic

Studies (NEE/Unicamp)

Pos-Graduate Professor of Archaeology at

MAE/USP.

Solange Nunes de O. Schiavetto

Cultural History PhD Candidate, IFCH/Unicamp

Researcher at the CSS/Unicamp and at the

CEIMAM, Unesp/Araraquara

Minas Gerais State University Teacher/Poços

de Caldas

Introduction: the epistemological

context

The present research is part of an

epistemological context that explains

its characteristics and dynamics. The

Brazilian Archaeology shows a long

trajectory, since its beginnings in the

nineteenth-century. Archaeology came

to assume the academic features only

after the Second World War, in great

part because of the human rights strug

gles headed, in the ﬁeld of Archaeol

ogy, by Paulo Duarte. The military op

pression would came to obstruct the

progress of the humanist Archaeology,

but the restoration of the civic rights

would allow, since the middle of the

80’s, for the upbringing of a variety of

approaches and social engagements in

the discipline, which started to interact,

each time more, with the social groups,

and to adopt less elitist attitudes. The

development of the legislation for the

protection of the heritage, also a conse

quence of the democratization process,

created a notable increase in the ﬁeld

researches and favored the inclusion of

the interests of natives, quilombolas,

and the common people in general in

the ﬁeld of preoccupations of Archaeol-

ogy. Archaeology started to be thought

as an activity with social relevance and

as part of the public policies for the in

clusion and shortening of inequalities.

In this new context, and feet-to-feet

with the development of world Ar

chaeology, the Brazilian Archaeology

started to deal with the plurality, the

heterogeneity, the conﬂicts, and with

social identities.

As the archaeological theory became

more sophisticated, in the last years a

growing number of excavators turned

themselves to social aspects of the past

day-to-day life. Part of their increased

attention with society and with the so

cial and symbolic meanings emerged

from their growing interest in studying

the works of scholars from different

academic ﬁelds, in order to get new in

sights and methods of research. The ar

chaeologists that, in the ﬁrst instance,

withdrew from the schematic and me

chanical approaches and sought inno

vative ways to interpret the daily life,

started, in that way, to read regularly

the works of geographers, sociologists,

historians, anthropologists and social

scientists in order to sharpen their in

terpretive abilities and to amplify their

points of view. By adopting more nu

anced and multifarious perspectives,

many social archaeologists started to

examine the archaeological deposits

recognizing the importance of two so

cio-historical contexts: (i) the one that

was in the past and was experimented

by the individuals studied and (ii) the

environments in which they, as archae

ologists, experienced and worked. The

growing thought about the importance

of the contextualization of the research

itself progressed rapidly the archaeo

logical interpretation and turned it rel

evant, in world scale, to the communi

ties of the descendants of the people

that Archaeology studies. The practice

of Archaeology, relegated in the past

to the silent rooms of the universities

and to the dusty deposits of museums,

was transformed into a discipline with

a signiﬁcant engagement in relation to

the public.

This research can be inserted in

that renewal of world Archaeology,

seeking, by way of a study of a central

region of the São Paulo State, in Brazil,

to verify the ancient settlements and

their relevance to the constructions of

identities,

as well as to propose a public

Archaeology initiative in relation to the

management of that heritage.

The development of the project

After reading the specialized litera

ture, which was done to deepen the

knowledge obtained in the archaeo

logical researches already realized in

the region, we went to the ﬁeld, divid

ing our work into two stages, and we

surveyed the proposed areas (Middle

Jacaré-Guaçu and Upper Mogi), whose

results will be present short bellow.

Nonetheless, the readings revealed two

realities that are very different from

those shown in previous archaeologi

cal researches.

The studied region, known histori

cally as the “Hinterland of Araraquara”

or “Fields of Araraquara”,

has archaeo-

logical ﬁndings that spring out, in some

works, from two ceramist traditions.

One of those traditions we relate to the

Tupi language populations, which the

archaeologists label as the Tupi-Guarani

tradition or, more recently, Tupinambá

and Guarani sub-traditions. The other

one we can relate to the Jê language

populations, which, by the lack of a

better speciﬁcation, we will label, at a

ﬁrst moment, as the Pedra do Caboclo

tradition (we are using a terminology

proposed by Brochado).

Although

these two traditions had already been

studied separately, a deeper analysis in

the region considered, which seems to

be the south frontier of one of them

(Aratu sub-tradition of the Pedra do

Caboclo tradition), still has not been

done. In this ﬁrst moment of the re

search the differences between the dis

courses from the historical sources and

the archaeological works in the region

has called our attention. In the former,

the region is seen as the settlement of

multiple Indian ethnic groups,

while, in

the last years, the evidences are pointing

RHAA 6 267

Traduções/Translations

only to two ceramist traditions. How-

ever, the archaeological researches in

the region, from a theoretical point of

view, are still incipient and there was

not, until the moment, a real interest in

fulﬁlling the emptiness that this area of

research represents to the study of the

native populations, both through the

archaeological point of view as well as

the ethno-historical one.

There were previous studies of the

Mogi-Guaçu, receiving the attention

of professional and amateur archaeolo

gists since the decade of 1940.

They

gave to the researchers a heterogeneous

picture in relation to the ceramic sites.

In the researched area, ﬁve ceramic

sites has already been identiﬁed, and

four of them had been excavated in

the 80’s,

in the Luís Antônio County.

Moraes proposed and executed a Mas

ters Project where he has re-analyzed

these four sites at the Luís Antônio

County.

The ﬁfth site, Suzuki, was

found in the Guatapará County in the

phase of contract archaeology done by

the Scientia Scientiﬁc Counseling, from

the works of survey executed for the

duplication of the Araraquara-Ribeirão

Preto freeway.

The research in the four sites at Luís

Antônio only caught a glimpse of the

archaeological potential of the area, for

it was not its goal to do a systematic

archaeological survey in that portion of

the Mogi-Guaçu River. The sites were

found through oral information when

the researchers were participating of

the ﬁeldwork phases of the Archaeo

logical Research at the Vale do Rio

Pardo Program, realized in 1981, under

the coordination of the archaeologists

Solange Bezerra Caldarelli and Walter

Alves Neves, from the former Institute

of Prehistory.

The other researches at the Mogi-

Guaçu and adjacent regions were done

in areas that the present Project (in

terms of survey) does not enclose, but

they add important data to the develop

ment of future investigations. Alves and

Calleffo researched the archaeological

site from the Monte Alto region, among

them the Água Limpa and Anhumas I

and II sites, from the Aratu ceramist

tradition.

Although Alves has not done

researches in the Mogi-Guaçu basin,

but in the Rio do Turvo, an afﬂuent of

the Rio Grande, his results are of great

importance for a better understanding

of the regional Archaeology, for they

comprehend an area still not researched

by Brazilian Archaeology.

Manuel Pereira de Godoy, amateur

archaeologist and a great knower of the

Mogi-Guaçu River, got an interest, in

the decade of 1940, for the archaeo

logical ﬁndings in the regions of Pi

rassununga and Rio Claro, having con

tributed with detailed descriptive texts

of the material culture that he found.

In 2003, an archaeological survey was

done as contract archaeology in the SP

322 Road, which links Sertãozinho to

Bebedouro,

revealing the existence

of two ceramic sites in the area of the

Pitangueiras stream and in the right

margin of the Mogi-Guaçu. The sites

were excavated and the material can

be found in the Araraquara County

Museum, where it received the labora

torial treatment (washing and numera

tion of the artifacts, techno-typologi

cal analysis). José Luís de Morais,

also

through contract archaeology, detected

ceramic sites in the area of inﬂuence of

the Mogi-Guaçu Hydroelectric Central,

which encompassed the counties of

Mogi-Guaçu, Mogi-Mirim and Itapira

(high Mogi).

The Mogi-Guaçu River, up to

where go its archaeological researches,

presents a heterogeneous picture in

relation to the ceramist sites. In the

established portion at the high Mogi,

the archaeological sites relates to the

Tupi-Guarani ceramist tradition, hav

ing been found ceramic fragments with

painted decoration over white or red

engobus, and with plastic decoration

presenting the ungulate and corrugated

motifs, for instance. Such decorations,

the shapes of the reconstituted vases

and the presence of funerary urns, con

stitute, in the traditional nomenclature

of Brazilian Archaeology, the Tupi-

Guarani ceramist tradition.

The ﬁve sites detected in the Middle

Mogi by the team of Solange Caldarelli

can also ﬁt into the Tupi-Guarani tra

dition, for they show the same char

acteristics. The sites of Pitangueiras in

a ﬁrst moment were included in the

Aratu tradition, for not showing plas

tic decoration and for the extension of

their villages (perceived through the

delimitation of its surface distribution).

However, during the salvage works,

some painted fragments were found,

which alludes to the Tupi-Guarani tra

dition, as well as a Tembetá fragment,

a labial adornment traditionally linked

to the Tupi Indians, but also found in

Aratu sites.

Although it can be evident that the

archaeological traditions can not deﬁne

the ethnic groups, being only apprehen

sions of the researcher’s point of view,

it is possible that the relations between

native populations from different eth

nic groups or languages (in this case,

populations of Jê and Tupi languages)

had resulted in material culture differ

entiations left by these peoples. Some

of them are perceptible to the archae

ologist’s eyes, but the scientiﬁc and

western context reinterprets them.

In contrast to the Mogi-Guaçu, the

Jacaré-Guaçu River, afﬂuent of the Ti

etê through its right margin, has not

received systematical study yet under

the archaeological point of view. Nev

ertheless, the Tietê, by its importance in

the Brazilian hydrographical scenario,

has already rendered many researches,

which points to a great archaeological

potential, above all in relation to the ce

ramist populations related to the Tupi-

Guarani tradition. The Tietê Project,

which encompassed the low and middle

valleys of this river, initiated in the 70’s

by the construction of the Ilha Solteira

Hydroelectric Mill in the Paraná River,

268 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

has evidenced a great quantity of ce-

ramic and lithic archaeological sites.

Maranca, Silva & Scabello

suggest to

the region a homogeneous picture in re

lation to the ceramist populations, hav

ing been found many sites with material

culture related to the Tupi populations

and only one, in the city of Olímpia

(Maranata site), linked to the Aratu ce

ramist tradition (generally attributed to

the Jê language populations).

Our researches in the Jacaré-Guaçu

River could bring to the present archae

ological discussions more information

about the Tietê basin, showing new ce

ramic sites with the aim of comparing

them to the others that exist in the area

of this great river and on the adjacent

locations, as in the area of the Middle

Upper Mogi.

The region: delimitation and geo

graphical aspects

The macro-region of the project,

whose archaeological works done until

today will be used with the objective of

doing comparisons with the material

found in the two hydrographical basins

chosen for the research, has as it natural

limits the margins of the rivers Piraci

caba, Tietê, Grande e Paraná. Still, the

waters of the rivers Pardo and Mogi-

Guaçu [Fig. 1] cover its areas. In rela

tion to the physical aspects (geology,

geomorphology, weather, vegetation),

the two micro-regions to be researched

has very similar characteristics, despite

some differences. We will describe their

main aspects in what follow.

We divided the micro-regions of

the Project into the areas of two hydro

graphical basins:

Middle Jacaré-Guaçu

The Middle Jacaré-Guaçu, afﬂuent of

the Tietê by its right margin, is inserted

in the Tietê/Jacaré hydrographical basin,

Hydric Resources Management Unit nº

13. Of this HRMU, besides the section

of the Tietê River comprehended be

tween the Ibitinga and Barra Bonita Hy

droelectric Mills, of the Jacaré-Guaçu

in its high, middle, and low sections, it

is also included the Jacaré-Pepira basin,

another important afﬂuent of the Tietê

by its right margin.

According to the Report of the São

Paulo State Institute of Technologi

cal Researches,

the sub-basin of the

Middle Jacaré-Guaçu represents 9% of

the total area of this HRMU, having

around 1.065,67 Km

. On this sub-ba-

sin, the lands of the following counties

are included: Araraquara, Boa Esper

ança do Sul, Ibaté, Ribeirão Bonito, and

São Carlos.

In relation to the geology of the re

gion, it spring out in the area of the

Tietê / Jacaré hydrographical basin the

“clastic sediments predominantly sandy

and the igneous basaltic rocks from

the São Bento group (Mesozoic of the

Paraná Basin), the sedimentary rocks

from the Bauru group (belonging to

the Bauru Basin, from the Upper Cre

taceous), and the Cenozoic sediments

represented by the Itaqueri formation

and correlated deposits (from the São

Carlos and Santana mountain ranges),

and by the alluvium deposits associated

to the drain net, besides the colluviums

and eluviums”.

According to Setzer (1966), based in

the climatic classiﬁcation proposed by

Köeppen, there are two climatic types

in the basin:

1 – Cwa: It is hot and humid, with dry

winter, and average temperature su-

perior to 22 ºC in the hottest month

and inferior to 18 ºC in the coldest

month.

2 – Cwb: There are little areas where

this type of climate occurs. It is

humid and mild with dry season.

Average temperature in the hottest

month is inferior to 22 ºC and, in the

coldest month, is inferior to 18 ºC.

In relation to the vegetation, the re-

gion is characterized by the presence of

open pasture with patches of stunted

vegetation (“Cerrado”), “a complex of

vegetal formations that shows variable

physiognomy and ﬂower composition:

campestral (open ﬁeld), savanna (dirty

ﬁeld, cerrado ﬁeld and cerrado stricto

sensu) and forest (big cerrado), forming

an ecological mosaic”.

As to its implantation in the national

space, the cerrado is situated almost to

tally in tropical climate, with the excep

tion of its south edge, in the São Paulo

and in the south of Minas moderated

altitudes (altitudes between 1.000 and

1.700 meters), suffering the effect of

soft frost in winter nights. Occurring

mainly in the Central-West region, the

cerrado is the second biggest Brazilian

vegetal formation. In the State of São

Paulo, it is “interrupted by other veg

etal formations, as in the proximities of

Campinas, Ribeirão Preto, Franca and

Altinópolis”.

In the geomorphologic map made

by the ITR/FEHIDRO/CBH-TJ, we

can observe the following events in the

researched region: on the left margin

of the Middle Jacaré-Guaçu, between

the Água Preta (Ribeirão Bonito) and

Rancho Grande (Boa Esperança do Sul)

streams, the altitudes vary from 500 to

688 meters. There are a predominance

of ample mounts crosscut by average

hills between the left margin of the

São João stream and the right margin of

the Ipê stream. In the latter’s margins

the festooned slopes predominates. Be

tween the Peixe River and the Rancho

Grande stream, there are ﬂuvial plains

in a terrain with few declivities on to

the Jacaré-Guaçu River, as we could ob

serve in the phase of ﬁeldwork survey.

The right margin of the Jacaré-

Guaçu, in its middle section, shows

geomorphologic aspects that are dif

ferent from those described above.

Since the Ribeirão do Laranjal up to the

Córrego do Tanque, both in the lands

of the Araraquara County, the altitude

vary from 500 up to 750 meters. From

the Ribeirão do Laranjal up to near the

Chibarro River, the average hills pre

RHAA 6 269

Traduções/Translations

dominate, crosscut by ample hills and

basaltic plateau. The festooned slopes

predominate from the Chibarro River

up to near the Córrego do Tanque.

There happen to occur ﬂuvial plains

on both margins of the Chibarro River

and on the Córrego das Cruzes. The

ample hills predominate nearest to the

Córrego do Tanque, being its left mar

gin the limits of the ﬁeldwork survey.

Middle Upper Mogi

The Mogi-Guaçu River sprouts in

the State of Minas Gerais, in the Bom

Repouso County, and its basin com

prehends the southwest regions of that

State and the northeast regions of the

State of São Paulo. It was subdivided

into economic-ecologic compartments

together with the Rio Pardo basin. The

area of the present research is included

in the compartment called Middle Up

per Mogi, of which the following cities

are included: Motuca, Guatapará, Luís

Antônio, Rincão, Santa Lúcia, Américo

Brasiliense, Descalvado and Santa Rita

do Passa Quatro.

The offspring of the Mogi-Guaçu

River, whose name means “big snake”

in Tupi, is located in the Morro do Cur

vado, in Bom Repouso, in the Crystal

line Upland. Its average altitude is of

1.650 meters. The river runs through

the State of Minas Gerais around 95

Km, crossing the Serra da Mantiqueira,

to run through more 377 Km in the

Paulista territory, in the Central Up

land, to ﬂow into the Rio Pardo.

As for the geological aspects of the

Mogi River, we can say that “through

all the east part sprung the crystalline

rocks from the Gneissic-Migmatite

complex and from the Açungui group,

with many intrusive granite bodies. The

rest of its area corresponds to the ori

ental part of the Paraná State geological

basin and involves a good part of its

stratigraphical series, since the Upper

Carboniferous up to the Cretaceous.

Almost the whole totality of the riv

er’s bed is constituted by basalt, which

springs out in several streamlets, as in

Salto do Pinhal, Cachoeiras de Cima,

Cachoeiras de Baixo, Cachoeira de

Emas and Escaramuça”.

The Mogi basin, in all its extension,

is implanted into four geomorphologic

provinces: The Atlantic Upland, the

Peripheral Depression, The Basaltic

Cuestas and the Western Upland. The

Middle Upper Mogi sub-basin has all its

extension distributed in the area of the

Western Upland, located more to the

west of the basin. The Western Upland

is characterized by a “great uniformity,

what makes the relief to be somewhat

monotonous, with the predominance

of short and ample hills, as the Serra

do Jaboticabal. The altitudes oscillate

between 400 and 600 meters”.

According to the Köeppen Interna-

tional System, in the Mogi basin there

are four climatic divisions, being the

type Aw the one that predominates in

the area of the research, which rep

resents “a tropical climate with rainy

season in the summer and dry season

in the winter. This climatic type oc

curs on the north of the Mogi-Guaçu

hydrographical basin. The pluviometric

index varies between 1.100 and 1.300

mm and the dry season in this region

occurs between the months of May and

September, being July the month where

it reaches the highest intensity”.

According to Brigante & Espíndola,

several types of phyto-ecological ter

ritories represent the vegetal coverage

in the Mogi-Guaçu area. They can be

deﬁned in the following way: semi-de

ciduous seasonal forest (sub-caducous

folia rainforest), dense ombrophilous

forest (pluvial rainforest), alluvial dense

ombrophilous forest (cilium forest),

cerrado (savanna), and big cerrado. In

the Mogi-Guaçu river basin, “there

are”, presently, “great part of the cer

rado and big cerrado vegetation legally

suitable for the cutting of trees, which

would diminish still further the index

of vegetal coverage in the referred ba

sin”.

In the Middle Upper Mogi, in

a speciﬁc fashion, the biggest area of

native woods are constituted by the big

cerrado, followed by the cerrado and,

at last, by woods.

The survey in the Jacaré-Guaçu

middle course

The first phase of the fieldwork

survey was done in the Middle Jacaré-

Guaçu and it encompassed the areas

contained in the IBGE charts (scale

1:50.000) of Araraquara and Boa Es

perança do Sul. In terms of county di

vision, the survey covered areas of the

left and right margins of the referred

river that are part of Araraquara, Boa

Esperança do Sul and Ribeirão Bonito.

In relation to the city of Araraquara,

we had previously known about a

lithic occurrence, near to the Chibarro

River (UTM Coordinates E0782970/

N7580116). In Ribeirão Bonito,

through oral information, we had pre

viously known about a lithic occurrence

(actinolite / polished) in Guarapiranga

(in the district of Ribeirão Bonito)

and in the Morro da Figura, a place

widely known by the city inhabitants

and which, according to them, has in

scriptions on the high banks and on

the lithic material. In Boa Esperança

do Sul, also through oral information,

we already knew of the existence of

ceramic material in Pedra Branca, a

district from where, according to the

informants, some igaçabas containing

bones were taken in the 60’s.

The approaching method of the area

chosen for this phase was to gather oral

information with the rural area inhabit

ants and to visit places where it would

be probable to ﬁnd archaeological sites,

as the rocky outcrops (among all sand

stone), gravel beds (near to the rivers)

and the conﬂuences of the afﬂuent with

the main river. We had previously es

tablished some points on the IBGE

charts that are 1 Km distant one from

the other, which can be found in the

half-hillside. Also, when it was possible,

270 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

we walked through the margins of the

afﬂuent round 2 Km up to the source

of the river, for the ceramic material of

which we had previously known in the

Jacaré-Guaçu basin (in Pedra Branca)

are located around 3,5 Km from this

river, on the left margin of the Manda

guari stream.

In this phase of work, we did choose

to do not do a systematic survey, for

the ceramic sites are generally located

on the surface. Above all, in places of

culture, where the plough is used, we

can well observe the material’s distri

bution, despite the relative destruction

caused by the plough. As for the lithic

sites, we can also observe them on the

surface, in gravel beds near to the rivers

or in the outcrops of raw material, as

the sandstone.

The approach with the inhabitants

of the rural area sought to take into

consideration the knowledge that they

have of the archaeological material.

Therefore, it is very common for the

rural people or to those who have pre

viously worked with the land to make

reference to the material culture that

we researched as “the Indian’s vessel”

(intact ceramic vessels), “ancient dish

ware” (ceramic potsherds), “lighting

bolt stone” or “sparkling stone” (pol

ished axe blades), “Indians land” or

“black land” (dark anthropogenic soil

generally found in ceramic sites).

During the work, he had some dif

ﬁculties to get to the pre-established

places. The biggest difﬁculty, which

turned unviable to arrive at certain in

teresting points, was the existence of

many orange plantation farms, where it

is not allowed to get in, for there is the

need to control the diseases in the citric

fruits as, for instance, the citrus canker

and the citrus variegated chlorosis. Be

sides the orange trees, many sugarcane

farms had still not done the cut in the

plantations, a fact that, in many cases,

allowed for the observation of the soil

only through the cart ways for the traf

ﬁc of sugarcane trucks in the epoch of

the cutting of the trees. The places that

were most visible to the team were ar

eas of pasture with erosion, places for

the cattle’s passage (which leaves the

soil exposed), ploughed land, low and

medium size sugarcane, little size plan

tations, as the peanut, and subsistence

plantations.

In a place near to the Córrego do

Pavão, we collected some oral infor

mation to be later veriﬁed, for they

referred to areas that do not belong to

this phase of the research. For example,

an informant told us that, in the Santa

Lourdes farm, near to the Córrego do

Tamanduá, in Ribeirão Bonito, there

are “lighting bolt stones”. Two other

informants said that, in the Fazenda

das Flores dam, in São Carlos, there

are “lighting bolt stones” occurrences.

Some people also said that there were

rock inscriptions on the Morro da

Figura (Ribeirão Bonito) and on an

other mount, between Boa Esperança

do Sul and Bocaina, in the Diamante

farm, near to the Jacaré-Pepira River,

another Tietê afﬂuent. We registered

such informations in order to verify

them later.

We present, in what follows, a sum

mary description of the four ceramic

sites found in the phase of survey on

the Jacaré-Guaçu. The complete list of

the archaeological sites and isolated oc

currences can be found at Table I.

• The right margin of the São João

stream, in the Ribeirão Bonito

County, is a place with medium and

low size sugarcane and little declivity

on to the main river. In the second

point of the São João stream, we

found ceramic material, character

izing the São João site (abbreviated

as SJO), a name given in honor to

the stream. The site is located on the

edge of two farms and its biggest

portion is in the lands of Mr. Eu

rico Fernandes, owner of the Estrela

Ranch. The archaeological site can

be found approximately 450 meters

from the São João stream and ap

proximately 1.5 Km from the Jacaré-

Guaçu River. We evidenced at least

four ceramic concentrations, with

many thick and thin fragments, some

rim and many gauges made of pink

sandstone [Fig. 2]. There are many

slim materials, without decoration,

but there are also painted materials,

as, for instance, a thin rim, prob

ably from a pot. In this fragment,

the decoration was made in white

and red. We could not evidence frag

ments with plastic decoration (cor

rugated, ungulated, and brushed).

The ceramic is very fragile, but we

could ﬁnd red and white engobus. In

the site, there are also lithic materials

(sandstone chips, a silex scraper well

ﬁnished and sandstone gauges). We

could ﬁnd a small polished fragment

made from broken basalt, possibly

being a polisher. However, its forms

suggest the head of a semi lunar axe,

a ritual artifact generally attributable

to the Jê populations and, in relation

to Archaeology, found in sites from

the Itararé and Aratu traditions [Fig.

3]. The site is in an area of sugar

cane culture of three phases, low,

medium and high, and a portion is

in a pasture area. We could observe

on the ceramic mortar the existence

of slim and bulk sand and fragments

of vegetal origin (cariapé) as organic

additives.

• In the left margin of the Mandaguari

stream, near to the rural district of

Pedra Branca, belonging to the Boa

Esperança do Sul County. We had

already known of an archaeologi

cal site through oral information.

The inhabitants of Boa Esperança

and Pedra Branca informed us that,

thirty years ago, when they built a

little dam in the Mandaguari stream,

they extracted from the place many

urns, some of them containing

bones. Mr. Nelson Neves, who lived

in Boa Esperança and who worked

on the place at the time, donated to

the Araraquara County Museum,

RHAA 6 271

Traduções/Translations

through our mediation, a little ce-

ramic bottle gourd, with decoration,

and a polished axe blade that, ac

cording to him, were extracted from

the place, together with the igaça

bas. Nonetheless, nothing has been

left of these, for they were broken

in many pieces by the tractors. We

had labeled this archaeological site

as the Mandaguari (abbreviated as

MDG). The site can be found up

to 150 meters from the stream that

gave its name and approximately

3,5 Km from the Jacaré-Guaçu.

An area of little declivity on to the

Mandaguari stream, the actual soil

occupation is for the sugarcane

plantation, whose estate lands, the

São Luís farm, belonging to Mr.

Fernando Tanuri, were rented to

the Zanin Mill. In the moment of

the inspection, the north portion of

the site was occupied with medium

sugarcane, while its bigger portion

is in an area where the cutting of

the sugarcane was done a short while

ago. We could observe on the place a

ceramic already much fragmented by

the works of plough: some thin and

thick sherds without decoration [Fig.

4], a piece of a vessel’s keel (with red

paintings), a painted fragment (with

black, white, and red decoration) and

some red sandstone blocks. We did

not do the delimitation of the area

of the site, leaving this procedure to

posterior phases.

• At a distance of 920 meters from

the Mandaguari archaeological site,

going downwards on the stream of

the same name in the direction of

the Jacaré-Guaçu River, we found

another ceramic site, labeled as the

Barrinha archaeological site (abbre

viated as BRR), for being located

in the homonymous estate. The ar

chaeological material is located on a

place of low sugarcane, in the San

tana da Barrinha A site, the propri

ety of Mr. Luís Colin Filho. In the

place, we could observe a ceramic

concentration; most of it being slim

sherds (without decoration) and a

sherd with corrugated plastic deco

ration. We also collected a little pol

ished blade, the base of which was

probably used as a hammerstone, for

there are in it marks of usage. We

did not delimitate the site, leaving

this task to a posterior phase. The

site is located at approximately 250

meters from the Mandaguari stream

and at 2,25 Km from the conﬂuence

of the Rancho Grande stream with

the Jacaré-Guaçu, on a land with lit

tle declivity on to the stream.

• At a distance of 2,5 Km from the

Barrinha archaeological site, go

ing downwards in the Mandaguari

stream, which at this section re

ceives the name of Rancho Grande

on the IBGE chart, in the conﬂu

ence area between this stream and

the Jacaré-Guaçu River, we found

ceramic material in the sugarcane

cart ways [Fig. 5]. This archaeo

logical site was labeled as Rancho

Grande (abbreviated as RGR). We

could not delimitate the occur

rences, for the sugarcane was high,

almost in the cutting epoch. None

theless, the fragments found in the

cart way suggest a high density of ar

chaeological material. The potsherds

that we were able to observe do not

have decoration (slim surface). We

also found a smoothened pebble,

suggesting a ceramic polisher, and

some red sandstone tools. Farther

on, walking through the cart ways

of the southeast part of the site,

we could observe a ceramic with

less evident Indian patterns (for

instance, the type of burning). The

laboratory works after the site’s ex

cavation and the dating by thermo-

luminescence will be able to bring us

subsidies to check the ﬁrst evidence

that this ceramic could be from the

epoch of the ﬁrst contact between

Indians and non-Indians. The site

can be found at 200 meters from

the Jacaré-Guaçu River, in the São

Manuel farm, the propriety of Mrs.

Maria Luiza Travassos.

The survey in the middle section

of the Mogi-Guaçu (Middle Upper

Mogi)

The second phase of the ﬁeldwork

survey was done on the middle section

of the Mogi-Guaçu and it encompassed

the areas contained on the IBGE charts

(scale 1:50.000) of Porto Pulador and

Rincão. Later on, through oral informa

tion gathered at the ﬁeld, we identiﬁed

a ceramic archaeological site in the Mo

tuca County (IBGE chart of Guariba,

scale 1:50.000), amplifying our area of

research. The Motuca region is also

part of the area encompassed by the

Middle Upper section of the Mogi-

Guaçu River.

In relation to the county division,

the survey covered the areas of the

left margin of the referred river that

are part of the counties of Rincão, São

Carlos and Motuca. One of the sites is

located very far away from the Mogi-

Guaçu River, in the Anhumas, an af

ﬂuent that run along several counties,

among them the Américo Brasiliense.

The archaeological site (that was la

beled as Anhumas II) is located in the

lands of this county.

The survey on the right margin of

the main river, which encompasses ar

eas of the counties of Guatapará and

Luís Antônio, was not done in this

phase. We centered our attention only

on the left margin afﬂuents, for the area

to cover in the survey is ample, despite

the reduced number of afﬂuents. These

are more distant one from the other

than the ones researched in the phase

of the survey of the Jacaré-Guaçu. On

a straight line, the course of the Mogi-

Guaçu in this section chosen for the re

search is of about 20 Km. However, it is

worth to highlight that, in this portion

of its course, the Mogi-Guaçu assumes

features of a river full of meanders. Ac

272 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

cording to the boatman that we found

in the area, this section between the

Córrego do Rancho Queimado and the

Ribeirão das Guabirobas has, as a rule,

40 Km of navigation.

Although the approaching method

had been the same as the Jacaré-Guaçu

phase (gathering oral information, visi

tation to places where it would be prob

able to ﬁnd archaeological remains, as

rocky outcrops, gravel beds, conﬂu

ences of rivers), we had better results

in the gathering of information with

the inhabitants of the rural area. In the

same manner as in the previous phase,

we established previously some points

on the IBGE charts, approximately 1

Km distant one from the other. We also

walked, when it was possible, through

the margins of the afﬂuents around 2

Km on the direction of its source. We

did not choose for the systematic sur

vey, with the opening of test-wells, for

the area that we could observe is, al

most in its totality, used for the culture

of sugarcane, what has aided the visu

alization of the material on the ﬁeld.

We cannot forget also about the areas

whose main economical activities are

the extraction of sand and clay.

We observed some differences in

relation to the area surveyed in the

Jacaré-Guaçu. In the ﬁrst place, we

had difﬁculties to ﬁnd sites that where

closer to the main river, due to the to

tal transformation of the landscape by

economic activities that causes the deg

radation of the environment, among all

the extraction of sand and clay. The

places that we had access evidenced

a destruction of the environment that

has being happening, in some cases,

for twenty years. In this kind of un

dertaking, many archaeological sites

were destroyed, for on many places we

just found only huge craters due to the

extraction of sand.

In a section of the Jacaré-Guaçu we

found the same situation in relation to

the topography. Many sites, in this case,

were found throughout the afﬂuents,

giving the idea that the populations

went upward through the smaller riv

ers searching for a propitious place to

build their villages every time they had

found such topographical situation.

On the other side, sites were found on

other places, in which the terrace was

closer to the bed of the river, without

a big marsh interposing the two. This

is the case of the Santo Antônio site,

in Motuca (in the Mogi-Guaçu phase),

which we will describe later on, and the

Rancho Grande site, in Boa Esperança

do Sul (in the Jacaré-Guaçu phase), pre

viously described.

Although the economic activities

found in this section of the Mogi-Guaçu

are very noxious to the environment

and, by extension, to the archaeologi

cal heritage, they approximate people

from the hydrographical environment.

There are many workers’ stories that

says that, for extracting sand from the

bed of the river, they had already found

many “ancient” things, among them

much archaeological material. The local

inhabitants cited, mainly, the “lighting

bolt stones” and the “arrow heads”.

In this way, likewise the farmers,

these workers give valuable informa

tions on places where we could ﬁnd

archaeological remains. The problem

faced is that, for coming from the riv

er’s bed, such remains could have come

from other places. Notwithstanding,

the simple mention to streams and lo

calities can help us in the search for

archaeological sites, what in reality hap

pened with some informants that we

met during this phase of the survey. A

study of oral History and memory with

these populations who live from several

activities related to the Mogi-Guaçu

River certainly would render precious

informations about the transformations

in the visions about the archaeologi

cal material. This could be done from

the apprehension of this past material

universe recovered from the river’s bed

or found in the places of agricultural

activities.

Some oral information gathered

could not be veriﬁed due to the available

time for the research, having in mind

the distance that we should walk yet.

However, the informations were regis

tered and, even if they have not been

veriﬁed in this phase of the research,

they could serve to future researchers

that ﬁnd an interest for the area and for

the ampliﬁcation of the investigations

that we have now started.

For instance, in this phase we in

terviewed Mr. Pedro, who works on a

place of sand extraction in the lands

belonging to Rincão, in the left mar

gin of the Mogi-Guaçu, near to the SP

255, the freeway that links Araraquara

to Ribeirão Preto. Working since a long

time in the region, Mr. Pedro gave us

informations that could evidence the

relationship of the people of the place

with the “ancient” things that are

found next to the Mogi-Guaçu River.

Even if the informations are not exact,

they give us an idea of the places that

could receive a better attention later. All

the places cited by the informant are a

little more distant from the ﬂume of

the Mogi River, what has lead us to do

not prioritize the search, since we had

established, on the chart, the points to

be veriﬁed closer to the main drain.

Mr. Pedro cited as places to be

looked for, in relation to the occurrence

of archaeological material or some

phenomena linked to it, the São João

farm in the Estação do Ouro (arrow

head), the Cabaceiras River, an afﬂuent

of the Mogi-Guaçu by its left margin

(“ﬁre ball”),

the Cachangal farm (sen-

zala), the Fazenda do Redondo (ancient

pots) and Morro Chato in the Fazenda

do Redondo (possibly cave art). The

Morro Chato has already been cited

by several inhabitants of the locality,

in previous works that we did for other

researches. However, we had not gone

to verify the information yet, due to the

difﬁculties of access.

Other information that we col

lected refers to a place with clay pots

RHAA 6 273

Traduções/Translations

in Motuca, possibly related to the Santo

Antônio archaeological site, also found

through oral information. According

to Mr. Antônio, owner of the lands

where we found the Santo Antônio ar

chaeological site, this above-mentioned

place, where we could ﬁnd another ar

chaeological site, belongs to the lands

of the Bem-te-vi Ranch, the propriety

of Mr. Mateus Voltarel. It is located in

the Córrego do Bem-te-vi, which ﬂows

into the Ribeirão do Bonﬁm, an im

portant afﬂuent of the Mogi-Guaçu by

its left margin, in the Motuca County.

When we observed the IBGE chart

of Guariba, in which are located the

lands of Motuca that are ﬂowed by

the Mogi-Guaçu river, we realized the

existence of a Bem-te-vi stream that,

nonetheless, ﬂows into the Ribeirão do

Lajeado, which by its turn ﬂows into

the Ribeirão do Bonﬁm. We recorded

the information, waiting for further

journeys to the ﬁeld.

Mr. Irineu Rapatoni, from Rincão,

also informed us about the existence

of pestle hand in the Japaratuba ranch,

in Motuca, but he did not know how

to say the exact name of the stream

in which we found this material. We

veriﬁed the other oral informations ob

tained in this phase of the survey and,

as we found archaeological material, we

will summarize them below (the com

plete list of sites and occurrences can

be found at Table II).

• In the left margin of the Mogi-

Guaçu River, in the lands belong

ing to the Rincão County, between

the Rancho Queimado and São José

streams, we found ceramic material.

We labeled the ﬁnding as the São

José site, whose abbreviation is SJS.

It is an area where the soil is used

for the sugarcane culture, which was

very high and did difﬁcult a better

visualization of the remains on the

surface. All the ceramic material that

we could see was very fragmented,

having little material to be observed,

certainly due to the destruction of

the site caused by the plough. We

were able to identify some little

thick fragments of rim with white

engobus and plastic decoration of

the corrugated style, some vase wall

fragments with red painting over

white engobus, as well as fragments

without painting and decoration.

We observed all these material in

the cart way between the sugarcane

plantations, but we could evidence

material on the surface also inside

the sugarcane plantation. The site is

located on the beginning of the ter

race, in an area with little declivity

on to the Mogi-Guaçu River. There

is, between the location of the site

and the river, an inundation plain

with 1.750 meters. The distance of

the site to the Córrego do Rancho

Queimado is of 2.250 meters and, to

the São José stream (the name of the

site comes from it), 1.700 meters. It is

placed in an area of ample mounds,

whose altitude varies from 537 to

553 meters.

• Right margin of the Ribeirão das

Anhumas:

• This stream, by its extension, is

considered an important afﬂuent of

the Mogi-Guaçu River, ﬂowing into

the areas of the counties of Rincão,

Santa Lúcia, Américo Brasiliense

and Araraquara. Many informants

cited the Ribeirão das Anhumas as

an interesting area for the occupa

tion of native peoples of the past.

The main favorable features that

some informants cited were, above

all, the hunting and the ﬁshing that

were, until recently, in the 70’s, still

abundant. Many of the oral infor

mations that we got, above all those

from Mr. Pedro, above mentioned,

are situated in areas that are ﬂowed

by the Ribeirão das Anhumas and

its afﬂuents. In a previous phase of

the survey (2003), we found a frag

ment of Indian ceramics on the right

margin of the Anhumas. At that

moment, we did not know that this

fragment was very close to a ceramic

site known since the 70’s, which is

the Rapatoni site (left margin of the

Ribeirão das Anhumas), which we

located and registered in the phase

of survey of our project and we will

describe later on.

Still on the right margin of the

Ribeirão das Anhumas, in lands that

belongs to the Santo Antônio farm, in

the Rincão County, which were rent

to the Santa Cruz Mill for the sugar

cane culture, we found an archaeologi

cal site that we labeled as Anhumas I

site, whose abbreviation is ANH1.

The

material found were fragments of thick

ceramics, a potsherd painted in red and

black over white engobus [Fig. 6], being

the rim of a big pot, another rim frag

ment with decoration that reminds the

incisions made with the nails

[Fig. 7],

and many other slim potsherds, without

plastic or painted decoration.

The archaeological site is located in

the area of sugarcane plantation and,

when of its ﬁnding, the land was being

plough, what facilitated the visualiza

tion of the material. By the dimension

of the potsherds visualized on the sur

face, we believe that this site has, up

to the moment, a much smaller degree

of destruction than the previously de

scribed (São José site – SJS), what could

be interesting to a future excavation.

The Anhumas I site is located at 450

meters from the Ribeirão das Anhu

mas, on its right margin, and at 1.700

meters from the conﬂuence of this

stream with the Mogi-Guaçu. How

ever, on a straight line, the distance

between the site’s place and the Mogi-

Guaçu is of 1.100 meters. The place is

a terrace with little declivity on to the

Ribeirão das Anhumas, with the pres

ence of ample mounds of few altitude,

whose closer higher part do not exceed

565 meters.

In the left margin of the Ribeirão

das Anhumas, going upwards in the di

rection of its source, in the area of the

Santa Cruz Mill, we found ceramic ma

274 RHAA 6

Traduções/Translations

terial in the sugarcane area. As the sug-

arcane was high, we only could observe

some very small fragments, giving the

impression of being an archaeological

site that has suffered much from the

works of plough. The delimitation of

the area and the eventual conﬁrmation

that it really was a destructed site will

only be possible in a future phase, when

the sugarcane will be already cut. De

spite the high sugarcane, we observed

some equally small fragments inside the

plantation. We labeled the place as the

Anhumas II archaeological site (abbre

viation ANH II).

The ceramic fragments that we

found are all slim, without plastic or

painted decoration. The Anhumas

II archaeological site is located in

the lands of the Américo Brasiliense

County, near to the SP 255 freeway,

which links Araraquara to Ribeirão

Preto. It is also near to the Araraquara

Nautical Club, which uses the waters of

the Ribeirão das Anhumas. It is situ

ated at 150 meters from this stream and

approximately 12 Km from the conﬂu

ence of the Anhumas with the Mogi-

Guaçu River. It is situated near to the

plain and low area next to the stream,

in the beginning of the terrace.

To this phase of the ﬁeldwork in

the Mogi-Guaçu, we intended to lo

cate an archaeological site known since

the 70’s. There is, in the Araraquara

County Museum, a polychromic funer

ary urn [Fig. 8]

from this site and, in

the epoch of its discovery, there was a

great interest for this material. By be

ing the ﬁrst archaeological site found

in the region, we had the interest of

locating it to record it and to follow

with archaeological investigations that

could come with more information on

the material.

We contacted the son of the ancient

owner, Mr. Irineu Rapatoni, who gave

us some important informations refer

ring to the site and to its discovery.

Mr. Irineu told us that the ceramic

material was found in the Bom Retiro

farm (ancient propriety of his father,

Mr. João Rapatoni) when they plough

for the ﬁrst time the land. He said also

that, when the land was uncultivated

or the plantation was lower, they could

see, from the top of a mount, the black

spots on the land that the researchers

from the Paulista Museum had told

them to be the spots of ancient Indian

huts. Today, unfortunately, it is not pos

sible anymore to observe such details,

since the land have being suffering the

action of the plough since that epoch

(the decade of 1970).

We located, in this way, the site and

labeled it as the Rapatoni archaeological

site (abbreviated as RPT). We could not

delimitate the area of the site, for the

sugarcane was high. The Rapatoni ar

chaeological site is located on the right

margin of the Ribeirão das Anhumas,

in the lands that belongs to the Rincão

County, very close to a broken bridge

of the ancient road that linked Ribeirão

Preto to Rincão. Today, another road

was built and it is located more to the

right of the place of the site. The dis

tance from the archaeological site to the

Ribeirão das Anhumas is of 650 meters,

and from the site to the Mogi-Guaçu

River, 2.100 meters. It is situated in an

area with average declivity on to the

Ribeirão das Anhumas, almost on the

top of the hill, which has 570 meters

as its maximum altitude. We could ob

serve on this location many ceramic

fragments, all without plastic decora

tion [Fig. 9].

Going upwards on the Mogi-Guaçu

River, already in the lands of São Car

los, in the area between the Ribeirão

das Guabirobas and the Ribeirão das

Araras, we found ceramic material in

an archaeological site that we labeled

as Itauarama (abbreviated as ITA).

this site, there are slim ceramics [Fig.

10], but we also found a thick frag

ment with plastic decoration in the cor

rugated style. We could also note, in

the walls of another thick ceramic frag

ment, crushed sherds as organic addi

tives. We could not delimitate the area

of occurrence for the sugarcane was

high. According to the owner of the

Itauarama farm, where the archaeologi

cal site is located, he rented the lands

to the Santa Cruz Mill, for sugarcane

plantation.

The site is located in a terrace with

little declivity on to the Mogi-Guaçu

River, whose altitude do not exceeds

532 meters. The distance from the Mogi

River is of 1.450 meters. According to

the Porto Pulador chart made by the

IBGE (scale 1:50.000), the site would be

150 meters from a small drain, inexist

ent today. The access to the place of the

site is done through the SP 255, which

links Ribeirão Preto to Araraquara, in

the direction of Ribeirão Preto, enter

ing at the right by the neighboring road

that goes up to the Taquaral district

(belonging to Rincão). The analysis of

the site’s situation will be possible when

they cut the sugarcane, for its size did

not allow a better visualization of the

material on the surface.

In a talk with the inhabitants of the

rural area near to the Ribeirão das An

humas, we knew of another place with

ceramic archaeological site, in the lands

of Motuca. According to an informant,

in the ranch of her family they collected

in the past, around twenty years ago,

many ceramic pieces (pots of several

sizes), as well as axe blades. We went

to the place and we found the remains,

which we labeled as the Santo Antônio

archaeological site (abbreviated as

SAT). This site is presently propriety

of Mr. Antônio, who lives in Motuca.

His estate is divided into an area for the

breeding of animals (of several species)

and a bigger area for the plantation of

sugarcane, in which the archaeological

site is located. We found in the cart

ways of the sugarcane plantation (which

was high) a huge quantity of slim ce

ramic fragments, without plastic or

painted decoration, whose organic ad

ditives, well visible, are constituted by

the cariapé [Fig. 11].

RHAA 6 275

Traduções/Translations

According to the delimitation of the

ﬁndings on the surface made through

walks in the sugarcane cart ways, we

could realize that the fragments have

an ample distribution, differently from

the sites found up to the moment. We

observed fragments on the surface in

an area of approximately 250 X 250

meters, whose distance from the Mogi-

Guaçu River is of 450 meters. Near to

the site there is the Ribeirão do Bon

ﬁm, at a distance of 350 meters. The

site is, consequently, in an area near to

the conﬂuence of this stream with the

Mogi-Guaçu River.

Going on with the work

The research in process (which had

its two ﬁrst moments presented in this

article) has as its main goal, through

the elaboration and execution of all the

traditional phases of the archaeological

work (survey, excavation, laboratory), to

create subsidies to the complementa-

tion of these previous stages into the

proposal of heritage education in the

Araraquara region. All the work is be

ing conducted in a way as to turn viable

the transformation of the knowledge of

an Indian past and its relationship with

the actual population, making this past

as something relevant to the national

society, generally leaved behind,

and

rethinking the relationship between the

ethnical and national identities, tradi

tionally seen as opposed things.

The primordial goal of this research,

heritage education, seeks to act out in

the most different social sectors and to

hit an ample public through lectures,

short-courses to teachers, and the as

semblage of an exhibition, as well as

the presentation of partial results to the

scientiﬁc community in articles, sym

posia and meetings. We also aim at the

elaboration of a publication (about the

region’s Indian past) to primary and

secondary school teachers, and the

elaboration of a PhD thesis on the ar

chaeological material of the region.

In a theoretical level, we prioritize

the study of the role that material cul

ture have in the imaginary of society,

despite its transformations (myth trans

formed into beliefs and popular tales).

How such apprehensions can bring us

informations, even multifarious, about

the vision that national society has, to

day, of the Indian populations that lived

in the Araraquara region? The ﬁeld

works and the contact with the com

munity of the region of Araraquara re-

vealed a great research potential in this

sense. To take into consideration the

discourse that the people of the com

munity utter about the archaeological

sites can help us in the construction of

a “prehistoric” Indian more connected

to what we call national History. The

future works or already under way, the

systematic gathering of material and the

laboratorial analyses, conjugated to the

heritage education that comes from the

research proposal seeks this goal.

Acknowledgements

We would like to say thanks to the

researchers and students who par

ticipated in the survey phases of the

Project accomplished in Araraquara:

Robson A. Rodrigues, Dulcelaine

Nishikawa, Fábio Húngaro Karam, Ra

fael de Abreu e Souza, Paulo Lima, and

Thiago Ribeiro Pereira. We would like

to thank, also, Virgínia C. F. de Gobbi,

the Araraquara County Museum direc

tor, for the support in all the phases of

the research.

English version: Marcelo Hilsdorf Marotta

The research was possible due to a FAPESP

Studentship Grant, Process no. 04/00506-2.

Cf. Pedro Paulo A. Funari, Charles E. Orser Jr,

Solange Nunes Oliveira Schiavetto. Identidades,

discurso e poder: estudos da Arqueologia contempor

â-

nea. São Paulo: Annablume / FAPESP, 2005,

FAPESP Process no. 04/05273-6.

Cf. Pedro Paulo A. Funari, Andrés] Zarankin,

Emily Stovel. Global Archaeological Theory, New

York: Kluwer / Fapesp, 2005, FAPESP Pro

cess no. 03/12576-2.

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da identidade ind

ígena. São Paulo: Annablume

/ FAPESP, 2003, FAPESP Process no.

2002/07184-5.

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. Araraquara (SP), 3:13-37, 1998.

It is important to highlight that, in this work,

we have used the nomenclature adopted by

the Pronapa (as, for instance, the archaeolo

gical traditions), for a better understanding of

the archaeological picture seen through such

nomenclature. However, this research do not

follow the pronapian model and do not have as

its aim to discuss the interaction from fossili

zed models of culture that the Brazilian Archa

eology has used in the course of its history.

BROCHADO, José P. An ecological model of the

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Thesis, 1984.

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gena no interior paulista. PhD Thesis, IFCH /

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Nov/2003a. CALDARELLI, Solange B.

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Duplicação da Rodovia Armando Sales de Oli

veira (SP 322), Km 356 a Km 390 +500. São

Paulo, Scientia, Nov./2003b. CALDARELLI,

Solange B. Aldeias Tupi-Guarani no vale do

Mogi-Guaçu, estado de São Paulo, Brasil. Re

vista de Pr

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Manuel P. de. Los extinguidos Painguá de las

cascadas de Emas. Córdoba. Universidad Na-

cional de Córdoba / Instituto Dr. Pablo Car

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A. Reexaminando a “Tradição Tupiguarani”

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L. Salvamento arqueológico na área de inﬂu

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1995. PALLESTRINI, Luciana. Cerâmica há

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276 RHAA 6

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CALDARELLI, 1983, Op. cit.

MORAES, 2005, Op. cit.

ALVES, M. A. & CALLEFFO, Myriam V..

“Sítio Água Limpa, Monte Alto, São Paulo”.

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CALDARELLI, 2003b, Op. cit.

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BROCHADO, 1984, Op. cit.

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BELLO, Ana Maria. “Projeto oeste paulista

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estabelecimento de diretrizes t

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áﬁca do Tietê/Jacaré

– Relatório Final. 152 pp. 1999.

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Evaldo, 2003, Op. cit., p. 9.

CBH-Mogi / CREUPI 1999, Op. cit., p. 52.

In this case, the informant could be referring

to the natural phenomenon known as the will-

of-the-wisp. We had already noted that many

people who live in the rural areas and know

archaeological material refer to this kind of

phenomenon generally occurring in the same

place where they describe to have “lighting

bolt stones” and “Indian’s vessels”. In reality,

when we observe the Indian myths, above all

the Tupi myths described by some travelers

and analyzed by Alfred Métraux (MÉTRAUX,

Alfred. A religi

ão dos tupinambás e suas relações com

a das demais tribos tupi-guarani. 2. ed, Brasiliana

267, 1979), we realized that such phenomena

could have some relation with the archaeolo

gical sites of the ceramist peoples. The ancient

Tupi linked such phenomenon to the legend of

the baetat

á (ﬁre thing or, as it is suggested by

the radical mboi, ﬁre snake, generally occurring

near to the rivers and places where they buried

their relatives).

FUNARI, Pedro P. A. “Os desaﬁos da des-

truição e conservação do patrimônio cultural

no Brasil”. Trabalhos de Antropologia e Etnologia.

Porto, 41:23-32, 2001.

SCHIAVETTO, Solange N. O. “A questão

étnica no discurso arqueológico: aﬁrmação de

uma identidade indígena minoritária ou inser

ção na identidade nacional?” In: FUNARI,

Pedro P. A

., ORSER Jr., Charles E. & SCHIA-

VETTO, Solange N. O. Identidades, discurso e

poder: estudos da Arqueologia contempor

ânea. Fapesp

/ Annablume, 2005, p. 77-90.