Galeria Maestrilor - Tiepolo ( Documentar )
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His hand constantly transferring to the ground what he had thought out in his mind, Tiepolo
was a true example of artistic bliss. In his works he presented a sublime craftsmanship,
a grace and a brilliance of color that is without comparison.
Ever since the Renaissance the Venetian school had produced magnificent works of art.
Through Giovanni Battista Tiepolo in the 18th century it again reached a late zenith.
But Tiepolo was also the last of the great Venetian painters.
In the early 18th century Venice was a dazzling city. In the struggle for supremacy in the
eastern Mediterranean this Italian lagoon city, known at the time as the Queen of the Seas,
had achieved victory over the Turks once again. But this had only been possible thanks to massive
support from Austria. At this time Venice was turning in on itself. The Venetians celebrated
themselves. There were more places of entertainment here, more theaters and cafes than anywhere else
in Europe. Nowhere was idleness pursued as euphorically as in Venice. The city attracted
jugglers, gamblers and travelers seeking to educate themselves. Venice was starting to become
aware of its political insignificance. A tremendous final effort was made to evoke
the city republic's great past. In this situation the work of a young painter began to conquer the
Venetian art world. Giovanni Battista Tiepolo displayed wonderful artistic gifts right from
the start. He was a master of lightness and illusion. His works make a realistic and immediate
impression on the observer. In 1724 he painted this fresco, The Force of Eloquence, in the Palazzo Sandi.
The composition shows the walls and towers of Thebes rising to the sound of Amphion's lyre.
It is comprised of separate scenes from classical mythology. The recurrent theme is the eloquence
of his patron, a distinguished Venetian lawyer called Tommaso Sandi. Tiepolo loved a joke.
Unexpectedly a cheeky child looks straight at the observer,
incorporating him into the turbulent scene as if he were an integral part of it.
This early work in the Palazzo Sandi already gives an indication of how Tiepolo would compose his
latest ceiling paintings. He arranged important constellations of figures around the periphery,
while at the center the sky opens up to form an infinite illusionistic space.
From the very beginning Tiepolo was a favorite of well-to-do Venetians. He came from the Castello
quarter in the east of the city, where Venice still has a village character even today.
His father had worked his way up from boat owner to merchant. In 1697, barely a year after Giovanni
was born, his father died. Tiepolo's mother had to struggle through with her six children.
In the Cala San Domenico there is still a memorial stone commemorating Tiepolo's birthplace.
In 1709 Tiepolo's mother became entangled in a court case involving valuables that had been
pawned. Soon after Giovanni joined the workshop of a painter by the name of Gregorio Lazzarini.
It seems that Tiepolo went into art not just because it appealed to him,
but also because it was seen as a lucrative profession, and besides the family needed the
money. In 1722 for the church of San Ste he painted this work in oil, the martyrdom of
Saint Bartholomew. The dramatic effect achieved with the use of highlighting reveals the influence
not of Tiepolo's mentor, but of another Venetian, Gian Battista Piazzetta, whose style of painting
was based on Caravaggio's expressive chiaroscuro compositions. This aesthetic approach must have
greatly impressed the young Tiepolo. When he painted the education of the Virgin Mary in 1730
for the church of Santa Maria della Fava, Tiepolo was already a star. The religious
fervor of his paintings delighted art agents like Count Tessin. Through the count he received
an offer to work in Stockholm. From Venice Tessin wrote to the king of Sweden. Tiepolo will complete
a picture in less time than others take to mix their paints. But the artist turned down the offer.
He felt that remuneration was inadequate, and besides other work beckoned. In 1726 the Dominicans
had started to rebuild the church of Santa Maria del Rosario. Architect Giorgio Maseri
erected a 27 meter high facade, and he wanted the ceiling frescoes to be no less impressive.
Tiepolo builds up his story using a perspective technique known as di sotto in su,
from below upwards. Saint Dominic hands the faithful the rosary he received from the Virgin
Mary. With incredible lightness and clear bright colors, Tiepolo had reached the pinnacle of his art.
Along with dignitaries, the crowd of believers also comprises
ordinary people and soldiers as guardians of the true faith.
At the bottom of the picture Tiepolo painted the damned,
who have not endured their heresy plunging down into hell.
Tiepolo flanked the main fresco with smaller sections. In this one Saint Dominic appears to
the Virgin Mary in a vision. The altar piece is another example of Tiepolo's power of artistic
persuasion. In sovereign style he brings together cadmium red, light blue and bright ochre in a
stupendous triad of color. While Tiepolo was still working for the Dominicans, he painted
the way to Calvary for the church of Sant'Alvis. On the four by five meter canvas the elements of
the scene rise up in a gigantic spiral. Tiepolo was well educated. He'd not only studied the works
of earlier Venetian painters, his bearded old men are reminiscent of Rembrandt, whose etchings
Tiepolo was familiar with. And in this scene from Christ's Passion too, bright red, blue and ochre
hues predominate at the center of the picture. It is clear that what was important to the artist
was not the playfully loose arrangement of figures, which was often customary at the time,
but maximum emotionality and expressiveness. Fraternities played a major role in the life of
the city. Most of them devoted their activities to charity. They commissioned ambitious art programs
for their scuole, or assembly houses. In the winter of 1739, in the Scuola Grande di Carmini,
Tiepolo signed the contract for a nine-part ceiling painting.
Like a luminous figure transcending the laws of gravity, the Virgin Mary descends to hand
Saint Simon Stock the scapula of the Carmelite order. The warm range of colors and the subtly
shimmering chiaroscuro elements are truly magnificent. Like the entire program, Tiepolo
painted the allegory of faith, love and hope against the backdrop of celestial space that is
not specifically defined, but seemingly endless. In the mid-18th century, the Venetians' love of show
was undiminished. The Labias were one of the richest families. It is said that at one banquet
they threw their golden plates and dishes into the canal merely to impress their guests.
The Palazzo Labia nestles somewhat unevenly against the Campanile of San Jeremiah.
The interior of the Palazzo had undergone extensive modification in the year 1730,
probably under the direction of architect Giorgio Mazzari. Now its owners wanted to have the
hall painted, and by the greatest ornamental artist in Europe, the choice fell on Tiepolo.
Together with his son Gian Domenico and the architect and painter Garolamo Mingozzi,
known as Colonna, Tiepolo created images which reflect his entire artistic skill.
He produced a superb creation characterized by lightness and an incredible radiance.
His is an impressive and realistic portrayal of a momentous event in antiquity,
the meeting of Roman commander Mark Anthony and Queen Cleopatra of Egypt.
With the most delicate brushwork, Tiepolo depicted the features of the famous future
lovers and their escorts, their fine clothes, ornamentation of all kinds and,
with a great love of detail, precious jewellery and silk.
The lady of the house, Maria Labia, owned a valuable collection of jewellery.
Did the artist wish the painting to be a monument to her? At that time it was quite
customary for members of the patron's family to be immortalized in this way.
Tiepolo may well have been influenced by the architecture of the hall which resembles a
theatre. In the second scene, the banquet of Anthony and Cleopatra, the figures seem to be
on a stage. At the foot of the painting, on the steps, the dwarf-like court jester can be seen
looking up. He represents the guests in the hall. The frescoes in the Palazzo Labia caused a furore
amongst Tiepolo's contemporaries, but only a short time later he received an offer so
grandiose in its scope and remuneration that it overshadowed all previous work opportunities.
Through a merchant, a contract was drawn up which took the painter to Würzburg in southern Germany.
In the residence in Würzburg, Tiepolo created a ceiling fresco that is still unique today,
a Teatro Mundi, on an expanse of 600 square meters, a fireworks of artistic expression.
Würzburg had something in common with Venice. Its golden age was also over, yet people still
maintained an expensive lifestyle. At court, sumptuous banquets were held. Here too, the
splendor was designed to blind people to the reality of the emerging enlightenment.
And with the help of Balthasar Neumann, in the residence, the prince-bishops had built a palace
which reminded visitors to Würzburg of the royal palace at Versailles in France.
The interior decoration too had to have an intoxicating enchantment,
with images emphasizing the importance of the church princes.
And who better to entrust with this project than the master of illusion, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo.
Initially, his contract merely provided for decoration of the imperial hall,
for the staggering fee of 10,000 Rhenish guilders. The theme was laid down in advance,
the marriage in Würzburg in 1156 of Emperor Frederick Barbarossa and Beatrix of Burgundy.
As in the Palazzo Lavia, the stunted court jester directs the observer's gaze towards the center.
Frederick Barbarossa and his bride are kneeling in front of the altar.
The bishop has the features of Tiepolo's patron, prince-bishop Carl Philipp von Greifenklau.
The fresco shows the typical mixture of historical figures and contemporary dignitaries.
The past transfigured and merged with an idealized present. Through this theatrical trick,
the artist lent the splendor of the past a tangible dimension in which the present is reflected.
Tiepolo hadn't sent a sketch for the fresco from Venice.
He had decided to get to grips with the project on the spot. He had the brilliant idea of placing
some of the scenes behind a stage curtain that had been drawn back. The fresco with
the investiture of Herald as Duke of Franconia by Emperor Frederick Barbarossa adorns the other side
of the hall. The characters are the same, even though the two events of marriage and investiture
were historically separate. But totally in keeping with his patron's wishes,
Tiepolo's painting suggests a close significant connection between them. Thus,
Carl Philipp von Greifenklau's absolutist claim to power stemmed directly, it seemed, from a
glorious past. During his stay in Wurzburg, Tiepolo lived in the residence where his every wish was
catered for. In the winter months, the cold damp weather prevented Tiepolo from working on the
frescoes. But the painter and his two sons were not inactive. It was in this period that Tiepolo
produced some of his most beautiful oil paintings, like the Adoration of the Magi.
It is not a celestially removed mother of God we see, but a Virgin Mary whose humanness lends the
scene such immediacy. The faces reveal a northern European influence from Rubens, perhaps, or Rembrandt.
We do not know when Prince Bishop von Greifenklau commissioned the artist to paint the stairwell,
but there can be no doubt that, besides being impressed by the Venetian's work,
the Prince Bishop also understood that no artist could realize his representative intentions
as splendidly as Tiepolo. Above the ascending observer, the sky opens up like a gigantic
The observer really has to walk to take in the huge expanse of images.
Only later, with the continent of Europe at its center, does the overall work of art unfold.
Tiepolo's concept was as universal as it was simple. He painted the four continents known
to Europeans at that time on each of the longitudinal sides. Draped in fine cloth,
the personification of Asia is seated on an elephant. Tiepolo portrayed those parts of the
earth he'd not visited in a bold style, but, and that is the basis of his quality,
never in a way which cost him credibility. Tiepolo must have turned to books on biology for help.
In the Imperial Hall, the artist had been comparatively reserved,
but now his skill shone through unfettered. Turbulent, exotic, diversified and imaginative,
his frescoes captivate the observer.
The painter placed Europe on the south side of the stairwell, with Prince Bishop von Greifenklau
at the center. Tiepolo left no one in any doubt as to the central role played by the European continent.
In his painting, Europe is the home of the sciences, the true faith and the arts.
In producing the figures in the crowd, the painting immortalized some of the artists
who worked on the residence. The man in the military uniform has the features of Balthasar Neumann.
Next to him, stucco artist Antonio Borsi. And finally, Tiepolo himself in red,
with his son Gian Domenico. He gazes with satisfaction on his creation.
After an absence of nearly three years in 1753, Tiepolo returned to Venice. A short time later,
he began work on one of the lagoon city's greatest paintings,
the crowning of the Immaculate Virgin in the church of Santa Maria della Pieta.
Here, Tiepolo applied his artistic talent in a bolder and more illusionistic form than in Santa
Maria del Rosario, displaying immense freedom with regard to structure and execution.
Santa Maria della Pieta is the church of music. Antonio Vivaldi had worked as music director at
the Ospedale della Pieta. Tiepolo took up the music theme with his heavenly hosts.
Tiepolo fashioned the rhythm of light and shadow with great sureness and feeling.
Sublimely subtle nuances determine the whole galaxy of relations between the colors.
Using powerful hues, the artist emphasizes certain features and induces dynamism and movement.
But once again, behind the host of figures, the vast expanses of the sky open up,
a spectacle of light that presented itself to Tiepolo day after day on the shores of Venice.
Nowhere else do the water and the air seem to merge into one enormous space as in the lagoon city.
In the summer months, the climate in Venice is often extremely humid,
so in early summer, wealthy Venetians would leave for their villas on the nearby mainland.
The Villa Valmerana Ai Nanni. Tiepolo was summoned here in 1757. His patron,
Count Giustino Valmerana, was a lover of classical literature, and the frescoes are
probably the result of his suggestions. They deal with events in classical and renaissance literature.
Tiepolo usually chose a particularly dramatic element in the theme he'd been given.
Here, the goddess Athena prevents the Greek hero Achilles from killing King Agamemnon.
But even in Venice, there was no longer any demand for Tiepolo's art. The ageing painter
was suffering from gout. In 1762, he received a request from the Spanish court. Reluctantly,
he left Venice. But in Spain, Tiepolo once again painted works that mark another turning point in
his creative activity, like Saint Francis receiving the stigmata. One of the mysteries of his late work
is this painting. Tiepolo, who had always focused on people and only used landscapes as a backdrop,
had now painted mountains, water, and a tree. Amongst these features, small and lost,
are Mary and Joseph. The work is entitled The Rest on the Flight into Egypt.
On March the 27th, 1770, Giovanni Battista Tiepolo died in Madrid. He was 74 years old.
Venice had lost its last great painter.

