Vasari: The Pros and Cons of Being (or Trying to Be) a Renaissance Man
As I mentioned in my last Vasari entry (and I know you've all been taking attentive notes for the midterm), a lot of the artists Vasari wrote about worked on military fortifications, and not just the architects, either: plenty of painters and sculptors (like Michelangelo) were entrusted with building forts, as well as other public works, such as bridges, sewers, aqueducts, public squares and streets, etc. And a lot of these artists also enjoyed writing poetry (like Michelangelo) or singing and playing the lute (which definitely comes off as the Renaissance equivalent of the guitar).
So, in short, you very quickly come to see where the term "Renaissance man" comes from. And surely it's a good thing to be a Renaissance man, right? Then again, what about that old saw, "Jack of all trades, master of none"? Here are four quotes from Vasari on both sides of the question.
Here, it seems like only a "jack of all trades" can be a "master of one [trade]":Vol. I, p. 179, Andrea di Cione Orcagna: Rarely is a man of parts excellent in one pursuit without being able easily to learn any other, and above all any one of those that are akin to his original profession, and proceed, as it were, from one and the same source, as did the Florentine Orcagna, who was painter, sculptor, architect, and poet ...
Vol. II, p. 55, Baccio D'Agnolo: The truth, indeed, is that architecture can never be practised to perfection save by those who have an excellent judgment and a good mastery of design, or have laboured much in painting, sculpture, or works in wood, for the reason that in it have to be executed with true measurements the dimensions of their figures, which are columns, cornices, and bases, and all the ornaments ... And thus the workers in wood, by continually handling such things, in course of time become architects; and sculptors likewise, by having to find positions for their statues and by making ornaments for tombs and other works in the round, come in time to a knowledge of architecture; and painters, on account of their perspectives, the variety of their inventions, and the buildings that they draw, are compelled to take the ground-plans of edifices, seeing that they cannot plant houses or flights of steps on the planes where their figures stand, without in the first place grasping the order of the architecture.
Here's a painter doing well as a civil engineer:Vol. II, pp. 134 - 5, Giulio Romano: While Giulio was in the service of that Duke, one year the Po, bursting its banks, inundated Mantua in such a manner, that in certain low-lying parts of the city the water rose to the height of nearly four braccia [archaic Italian unit of measurement, roughly equal to two feet], insomuch that for a long time frogs lived in them almost all the year round. Giulio, therefore, after pondering in what way he might put this right, so went to work that for the time being the city was restored to its former condition; and to the end that the same might not happen another time, he contrived to have the streets on that side raised so much, by command of the Duke, that they came above the level of the water, and the buildings stood in safety. In that part of the city the houses were small, slightly built, and of no great importance, and he gave orders that they should be pulled down, in order to raise the streets and bring that quarter to a better state, and that new houses, larger and more beautiful, should be built there, to the advantage and improvement of the city.
But here are two cautionary tales (for the price of one) about the perils of trying to excel in a field other than your specialty:Vol. II, p. 253, Niccolò, called Tribolo: But the same thing happened to Tribolo as to Tasso, in that, even as Tasso abandoned wood-carving, a craft in which he had no equal, but never became a good architect, and thus won little honour by deserting an art in which he was very able, and applying himself to another of which he knew not one scrap, so Tribolo, abandoning sculpture, in which it may be said with truth that he was most excellent and caused everyone to marvel, and setting himself to attempt to straighten out rivers [i.e. like a Renaissance equivalent of the Army Corps of Engineers], ceased to win honour by pursuing the one, while the other brought him blame and loss rather than honour and profit. For he did not succeed in his tinkering with rivers, and he made many enemies, particularly in the district of Prato, on account of the Bisenzio, and in many places in the Val di Nievole.
So what have we learned? Um... that it's great to be a master of multiple trades, but that it's no good to suck in other trades? Not particularly helpful. While we can all agree that you shouldn't bite off more than you can chew, I don't think Vasari's cautionary tales should scare us off from trying other things. Ultimately, my sympathies are with this Heinlein quote:
"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."
Of course, I'm only around 50% on this particular list, but I nonetheless agree with the principle.
So, in short, you very quickly come to see where the term "Renaissance man" comes from. And surely it's a good thing to be a Renaissance man, right? Then again, what about that old saw, "Jack of all trades, master of none"? Here are four quotes from Vasari on both sides of the question.
Here, it seems like only a "jack of all trades" can be a "master of one [trade]":Vol. I, p. 179, Andrea di Cione Orcagna: Rarely is a man of parts excellent in one pursuit without being able easily to learn any other, and above all any one of those that are akin to his original profession, and proceed, as it were, from one and the same source, as did the Florentine Orcagna, who was painter, sculptor, architect, and poet ...
Vol. II, p. 55, Baccio D'Agnolo: The truth, indeed, is that architecture can never be practised to perfection save by those who have an excellent judgment and a good mastery of design, or have laboured much in painting, sculpture, or works in wood, for the reason that in it have to be executed with true measurements the dimensions of their figures, which are columns, cornices, and bases, and all the ornaments ... And thus the workers in wood, by continually handling such things, in course of time become architects; and sculptors likewise, by having to find positions for their statues and by making ornaments for tombs and other works in the round, come in time to a knowledge of architecture; and painters, on account of their perspectives, the variety of their inventions, and the buildings that they draw, are compelled to take the ground-plans of edifices, seeing that they cannot plant houses or flights of steps on the planes where their figures stand, without in the first place grasping the order of the architecture.
Here's a painter doing well as a civil engineer:Vol. II, pp. 134 - 5, Giulio Romano: While Giulio was in the service of that Duke, one year the Po, bursting its banks, inundated Mantua in such a manner, that in certain low-lying parts of the city the water rose to the height of nearly four braccia [archaic Italian unit of measurement, roughly equal to two feet], insomuch that for a long time frogs lived in them almost all the year round. Giulio, therefore, after pondering in what way he might put this right, so went to work that for the time being the city was restored to its former condition; and to the end that the same might not happen another time, he contrived to have the streets on that side raised so much, by command of the Duke, that they came above the level of the water, and the buildings stood in safety. In that part of the city the houses were small, slightly built, and of no great importance, and he gave orders that they should be pulled down, in order to raise the streets and bring that quarter to a better state, and that new houses, larger and more beautiful, should be built there, to the advantage and improvement of the city.
But here are two cautionary tales (for the price of one) about the perils of trying to excel in a field other than your specialty:Vol. II, p. 253, Niccolò, called Tribolo: But the same thing happened to Tribolo as to Tasso, in that, even as Tasso abandoned wood-carving, a craft in which he had no equal, but never became a good architect, and thus won little honour by deserting an art in which he was very able, and applying himself to another of which he knew not one scrap, so Tribolo, abandoning sculpture, in which it may be said with truth that he was most excellent and caused everyone to marvel, and setting himself to attempt to straighten out rivers [i.e. like a Renaissance equivalent of the Army Corps of Engineers], ceased to win honour by pursuing the one, while the other brought him blame and loss rather than honour and profit. For he did not succeed in his tinkering with rivers, and he made many enemies, particularly in the district of Prato, on account of the Bisenzio, and in many places in the Val di Nievole.
So what have we learned? Um... that it's great to be a master of multiple trades, but that it's no good to suck in other trades? Not particularly helpful. While we can all agree that you shouldn't bite off more than you can chew, I don't think Vasari's cautionary tales should scare us off from trying other things. Ultimately, my sympathies are with this Heinlein quote:
"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects."
Of course, I'm only around 50% on this particular list, but I nonetheless agree with the principle.