We were talking recently with friends about the importance of not letting the ‘back story’ get in the way of looking at pictures. You know what I mean: becoming bogged down in facts and figures, like who painted the picture and when, the historical context, the implications of the subject matter and, as far as portraits are concerned, the biography of the sitter.
There is one picture in the Uffizi, however, where the back story is just as compelling as the picture itself. The moment you see it, you are struck by the overwhelming image of a powerful man with the crookedest of noses and, hang contemplating the painting’s artistic merit, you first want to know more about this extraordinary character.
The painting is Piero della Francesca’s ‘The Duke and Duchess of Urbino’ (above) and it was my choice for the third of our ‘One-Stop Uffizi’ ventures*[1]
Nonetheless, before succumbing to the attractions of the duke, his nose and his story, we first looked at the two paintings on the reverse side of the diptych:
These allegorical scenes show the duke (on the left) and his wife (on the right) enjoying Triumphs, Roman style. The duke is enthroned on a triumphal car, which looks a bit like an agricultural cart to me, drawn by a pair of white horses, while the four Cardinal Virtues, Prudence, Justice, Fortitude and Temperance, sit on the cart itself, some with their legs dangling over the side as if they had hitched a ride to market. His wife’s triumphal car is drawn by unicorns, accompanied in a similar fashion by Faith, Hope and Charity. In each of the panels, the artist has drawn in careful perspective the lumpy landscape of Urbino. Beneath them, on a painted plinth, Latin inscriptions extol the virtues of the duke and his wife.
The Duke of Urbino, Federico da Montefeltro, was perhaps the greatest condottieri, mercenary leaders, of his time, and his most famous victory was in 1472, when he defeated Volterra for the Florentines. In general, condottieri were an untrustwothy lot, notorious for changing sides at the drop of a bribe. Federico, however, was famous for his honesty, and never switched his allegiance. Because of this, he was sometimes paid for not fighting, an excellent way of earning a living!
And so, to the obverse of the diptych where the Duke and his wife, Battista Sforza, face each other in strict profile, as they have done for more than five centuries, he bronzed and commanding, she pale and interesting. Piero della Francesca painted the diptych between 1473 and 1475, after Battista’s death in 1472, so this may be one reason why is she is portrayed so palely. She was a great helpmeet to the duke, ruling Urbino efficiently while he was away on his various military expeditions. (Incidentally, Federico was not made a duke until 1474, after her death, so Battista never attained the status of duchess.)
And here’s the man himself resplendent in crimson gown and cap, his crooked nose demanding our attention. One of the reasons we see him in strict profile from the left is that the right-hand side of his face was a bit of a mess: he lost his eye in a tournament in 1450 and had the damaged bridge of his nose further cut away by a surgeon, so he could enjoy a wider range of vision with his left eye. Here’s a modern reconstruction of what the duke might have looked like full on.
Behind husband and wife, Piero della Francesca has again painted the landscape of the area of Le Marche over which they ruled. While the countryside does not look very appealing, in the city of Urbino itself, Federico and Battista established a true Renaissance court, with an impressive library of ancient manuscripts and the lively collection of intellectuals and artists, including Piero della Francesca and the Spaniard Pedro Berruguete, who painted this portrait of the scholar-soldier duke:
It has been generally assumed that the famous Piero della Francesca diptych was commissioned by the duke himself, but Michelle Marder Kahmi has argued, convincingly to my mind, that the inscriptions celebrating Federico’s virtues and triumphs are inconsistent with his profound grief at his wife’s death. Dr. Kahmi suggests that the picture might have been commissioned by Lorenzo de’ Medici, both to celebrate the victory over Volterra and to console Federico over the loss of his young wife, who died soon after he returned from war.
Whatever the truth, Piero della Francesca and Federico da Montefeltro have left us an image in the Uffizi as compelling in its way as the vision of beauty in Sandro Botticelli’s Venus.
Next time: Bronzino’s sumptuous painting of a dress, as worn by Eleanor of Toledo.
[1] You may recollect that Lois and I are working on an idea to avoid the cultural overload that comes with trying to look at too many painting masterpieces in a short space of time. We call it the ‘One-Stop Uffizi.’
The idea is simple: one of us chooses a picture before we go to the gallery; we enter and walk briskly, glancing neither to left or right, until arrive at the picture we have chosen. Then we spend 10 minutes really looking at the picture. Then we leave briskly, glancing neither to left nor to right, resisting the temptations as we pass.