Vasari: Catholic Curiosities
In describing the subjects of various artworks, Vasari mentions offhandedly many legends of saints and Biblical figures that he evidently takes for granted, but which struck me as new and exotic. I may have gone to Catholic school K through 12, but they didn't teach us any of these.
Incidentally, a lot of this Catholic lore ends up being very Antisemitic. I've tried to reserve such stories for a future entry, and put just the "harmless" ones in this entry; but even so, as you'll see, some of them are too tightly bound up with Antisemitism to be separated from it.
We begin with tales of improbable relics. First some memorabilia of the Virgin ("Mariana"?).Vol. I, p. 592, same: And for the Altar of the Sacrament [in the Duomo of Perugia], where there is preserved the ring with which the Virgin Mary was married ...
Vol. II, p. 218, Niccolò Soggi: [H]e painted the Assumption of Our Lady into Heaven, with ... S. Thomas below receiving the Girdle ...
The most improbable piece of Mariana of all, of course, is her house. Which, of course, is in Italy. And is not to be confused with her other house in Turkey. (Hey, people move around, maintain secondary residences, buy investment properties, you know how it is.)Vol. I, p. 789, Andrea dal Monte Sansovino: [In] that most holy place, which was the very house and habitation of the Mother of the Son of God ... [Sansovino carved] in one [scene], the Death of Our Lady, with the Apostles bearing her to her burial, four Angels in the air, and many Jews seeking to steal that most holy corpse ... Below this one, then, ... [one] showing in what manner that chapel, which was the Chamber of Our Lady, wherein she was born, brought up, and saluted by the Angel, and in which she reared her Son up to the age of twelve and lived ever after His Death, was finally carried by the Angels, first into Sclavonia [Croatia], afterwards to a forest in the territory of Recanati [Italy], and in the end to the place where it is now [Loreto, Italy] ...
As improbable as it is that angels would carry Mary's house from Israel to Croatia, and then to two towns in succession in Italy, I think this one gives it a good run for its money:Vol. II, p. 133, Giulio Romano: ... [A]nd, on the other, the scene when the Blood of Christ was discovered in the time of the Countess Matilda, which was a most beautiful work.
The most popular improbable relics of the Middle Ages were of course splinters from the True Cross. Here's an improbable, extra-Biblical story that was no doubt painted to accompany a reliquary containing one of these fragments:Vol. I, p. 399, Piero della Francesca: In this work there are Stories of the Cross, ... [including] that wherein the sons of Adam are burying him and placing under his tongue the seed of the tree from which there came the wood for the said Cross ...
We move now to bizarre miracles. The first involves a priest who doubted the doctrine of Transubstantiation:Vol. I, p. 724, Raffaello da Urbino: [H]e painted a scene of the Miracle of the Sacramental Corporal of Orvieto, or of Bolsena, whichever it may be called. In this scene there may be perceived in the face of the priest who is saying Mass ... the shame that he felt on seeing the Host turned into blood on the Corporal on account of his unbelief.
Interestingly, Wikipedia notes that "[t]he 'Miracle of Bolsena' is regarded by the Roman Catholic Church as a private revelation, meaning that Catholics are under no obligation to believe it although they may do so freely."
Remember the quote above claiming that some Jews tried to steal Mary's corpse? Evidently, at least one of them tasted the wrath of God for his misdeeds.Vol. I, p. 861, Alfonso Lombardi of Ferrara et al.: But what pleased the people of Bologna most of all was the Death of Our Lady ... and marvellous, among other things in that work, is the Jew who leaves his hands fixed to the bier of the Madonna.
I think what's meant here is that the man's hands became miraculously and permanently attached to the bier.
Moving on to non-Antisemitic miracles, here's one for St. Anthony of Padua. (Yes, this is the same one you pray to when you've lost your carkeys. -- I wonder if the non-Catholics reading this know that many, many American Catholics do this, even though they are not otherwise given to venerating individual saints?)Vol. II, p. 199, Domenico Beccafumi: [H]e depicted ... S. Anthony of Padua, who, in order to convert some heretics, performs the miracle of the Ass, which makes obeisance before the sacred Host ...
(Are we quite done snickering, class, at the mention of a donkey?)
Next, a tale of miraculous weather.Vol. II, p. 215, Niccolò Soggi: ... [A]n altar-piece wherein was to be the story of the Snow, which, falling on the site of S. Maria Maggiore at Rome on the 5th of August, was the reason of the building of that temple.
The only purpose for the snowfall seems to have been to indicate where the divine will wanted a new church to be sited. (Here's a nice picture by Masolino of the miracle.)
Finally, here's a miracle guaranteed to tie theologians into knots over free will and forgiveness:Vol. II, pp. 425 - 6, Giovanni Antonio Bazzi (il Sodoma): In another scene ... is painted the story of a criminal, who, going to be beheaded, would not be converted or commend himself to God, despairing of His mercy; when, the above-named Saint [Catherine of Siena] praying for him on her knees, her prayers were so acceptable to the goodness of God, that, when the felon's head was cut off, his soul was seen ascending to Heaven; such power with the mercy of God have the prayers of those saintly persons who are in His grace.
Incidentally, I've always found it interesting that medieval Catholicism had a special definition for the word "despair": it means being so convinced of your utter worthlessness and sinfulness that you think even God cannot forgive you and redeem you (i.e. you "despair of" being forgiven). But as sinful as you may be, "despair" is itself a sin, because in feeling that emotion, you wrongly presume to set limits to God's powers (His powers of forgiveness in this case). The moral here is that no matter how heinous your sins, God is capable of forgiving them, as long as you want and ask Him to.
But Vasari's story neatly contradicts that moral, as a third party was able to want and ask God forgiveness for someone else's sins. But fear not, theologians are consummate escape artists and will have a way out of this difficulty.
One miracle that I don't have a specific quote for, but saw many mentions of in Vasari, was the Miracle of the Roses. This has got to be the most useless miracle ever. St. Elisabeth, a German queen, takes food to the poor daily. She hides it under her clothes since the royal family disapproves. One day, her husband the king catches her sneaking off on her errand of mercy and asks what the odd bulk under her clothes is. He lifts aside her cloak, but finds only roses. The food had been miraculously transmogrified! St. Elisabeth escapes a scolding, and presumably the village poor munch on petals and thorns that day.
(As often happens with Catholic saints, this miracle, with nearly all the particulars being intact, has been attributed to other saints, both male and female, in other times and places.)
And now, to close, four additional things of curiosity.
First, a quote that gives the scale of the opulence of the Papal court during the Renaissance (and also gives a taste of why there was a Reformation):Vol. II, p. 64, Valerio Vicentino and others: [Giovanni Bernardi] ... was rewarded by His Holiness with the gift of a Mazza [i.e., the office of mace-bearer], an office which he afterwards sold in the time of Paul III, receiving two hundred crowns for it.
Baccio Bandinelli had several of these Papal sinecures; they appeared to be his retirement plan.
Next, another bit of Papal trivia that I had never heard of before:Vol. II, p. 511, Battista Franco: And among other fanciful things that are in this scene, that part is most beautiful in which the Pope and the Cardinals are throwing down torches and candles from a high place, as is done when some person is excommunicated ...
(For Di Phi people: this reminds me of the ridiculously Gothic expulsion ceremony a certain member proposed...)
Third, a story you don't often hear about the Roman Emperor venerated as a saint in the Eastern Christian churches:Vol. II, p. 417, Michele San Michele and others: ...[A]nd in the other is the scene when the Emperor Constantine causes a number of children to be brought before him, intending to kill him them and to bathe in their blood, in order to cure himself of his leprosy.
This website, however, gives a somewhat different account:At this time, Constantine fell ill with leprosy. The pagan priests and doctors advised him to bathe in the blood of slaughtered children, which he refused to do. Then the Apostles Peter and Paul appeared to him and told him to seek out a bishop, Sylvester, who would heal him of the disease. The bishop instructed him in the Christian faith and baptized him, and the leprosy vanished from the Emperor's body.
Finally, a quote about a pageant disaster. Vasari documents in great detail the lavish pageants that Florentines held for Christmas and other holy days. Only one person in the whole of his work is listed not as a painter, sculptor, or architect, but as an engineer -- a man named Cecca -- and the majority of his Life is dedicated to describing the complex stage machinery he built for these pageants.
They must have been quite a sight to see. One particular set of pageants involved making use of the cavernous interiors of church domes to rig up a representation of Heaven. As near as I can tell, a large iron framework in the shape of a cone was suspended from the dome's ceiling, and would be slowly lowered toward the audience. If I recall correctly, it rotated, too; perhaps with different levels of the cone rotating at different rates.
The framework was of course concealed with fluffy material resembling clouds, and had lots of candles to stand in as stars or heavenly radiance. The various hierachies of angels stood arranged in their proper orders, singing all the while. There were even people representing Mary, Christ, and God Himself. A kind of manacle kept the actors safely shackled to the framework so that they couldn't possibly fall off. Even if they wanted to:Vol. I, p. 512, Don Bartolommeo della Gatta: A fire breaking out in consequence of the great quantity of lights, this work was burnt, together with the man who was representing God the Father, who, being fastened, could not escape, as the angels did, and ... about eight were trampled down in the press ...
There are many different religions that would say that this is what happens when you dare to have a human actor impersonate the Deity. And of course modern fire inspectors would have their own criticisms to give...
Incidentally, a lot of this Catholic lore ends up being very Antisemitic. I've tried to reserve such stories for a future entry, and put just the "harmless" ones in this entry; but even so, as you'll see, some of them are too tightly bound up with Antisemitism to be separated from it.
We begin with tales of improbable relics. First some memorabilia of the Virgin ("Mariana"?).Vol. I, p. 592, same: And for the Altar of the Sacrament [in the Duomo of Perugia], where there is preserved the ring with which the Virgin Mary was married ...
Vol. II, p. 218, Niccolò Soggi: [H]e painted the Assumption of Our Lady into Heaven, with ... S. Thomas below receiving the Girdle ...
The most improbable piece of Mariana of all, of course, is her house. Which, of course, is in Italy. And is not to be confused with her other house in Turkey. (Hey, people move around, maintain secondary residences, buy investment properties, you know how it is.)Vol. I, p. 789, Andrea dal Monte Sansovino: [In] that most holy place, which was the very house and habitation of the Mother of the Son of God ... [Sansovino carved] in one [scene], the Death of Our Lady, with the Apostles bearing her to her burial, four Angels in the air, and many Jews seeking to steal that most holy corpse ... Below this one, then, ... [one] showing in what manner that chapel, which was the Chamber of Our Lady, wherein she was born, brought up, and saluted by the Angel, and in which she reared her Son up to the age of twelve and lived ever after His Death, was finally carried by the Angels, first into Sclavonia [Croatia], afterwards to a forest in the territory of Recanati [Italy], and in the end to the place where it is now [Loreto, Italy] ...
As improbable as it is that angels would carry Mary's house from Israel to Croatia, and then to two towns in succession in Italy, I think this one gives it a good run for its money:Vol. II, p. 133, Giulio Romano: ... [A]nd, on the other, the scene when the Blood of Christ was discovered in the time of the Countess Matilda, which was a most beautiful work.
The most popular improbable relics of the Middle Ages were of course splinters from the True Cross. Here's an improbable, extra-Biblical story that was no doubt painted to accompany a reliquary containing one of these fragments:Vol. I, p. 399, Piero della Francesca: In this work there are Stories of the Cross, ... [including] that wherein the sons of Adam are burying him and placing under his tongue the seed of the tree from which there came the wood for the said Cross ...
We move now to bizarre miracles. The first involves a priest who doubted the doctrine of Transubstantiation:Vol. I, p. 724, Raffaello da Urbino: [H]e painted a scene of the Miracle of the Sacramental Corporal of Orvieto, or of Bolsena, whichever it may be called. In this scene there may be perceived in the face of the priest who is saying Mass ... the shame that he felt on seeing the Host turned into blood on the Corporal on account of his unbelief.
Interestingly, Wikipedia notes that "[t]he 'Miracle of Bolsena' is regarded by the Roman Catholic Church as a private revelation, meaning that Catholics are under no obligation to believe it although they may do so freely."
Remember the quote above claiming that some Jews tried to steal Mary's corpse? Evidently, at least one of them tasted the wrath of God for his misdeeds.Vol. I, p. 861, Alfonso Lombardi of Ferrara et al.: But what pleased the people of Bologna most of all was the Death of Our Lady ... and marvellous, among other things in that work, is the Jew who leaves his hands fixed to the bier of the Madonna.
I think what's meant here is that the man's hands became miraculously and permanently attached to the bier.
Moving on to non-Antisemitic miracles, here's one for St. Anthony of Padua. (Yes, this is the same one you pray to when you've lost your carkeys. -- I wonder if the non-Catholics reading this know that many, many American Catholics do this, even though they are not otherwise given to venerating individual saints?)Vol. II, p. 199, Domenico Beccafumi: [H]e depicted ... S. Anthony of Padua, who, in order to convert some heretics, performs the miracle of the Ass, which makes obeisance before the sacred Host ...
(Are we quite done snickering, class, at the mention of a donkey?)
Next, a tale of miraculous weather.Vol. II, p. 215, Niccolò Soggi: ... [A]n altar-piece wherein was to be the story of the Snow, which, falling on the site of S. Maria Maggiore at Rome on the 5th of August, was the reason of the building of that temple.
The only purpose for the snowfall seems to have been to indicate where the divine will wanted a new church to be sited. (Here's a nice picture by Masolino of the miracle.)
Finally, here's a miracle guaranteed to tie theologians into knots over free will and forgiveness:Vol. II, pp. 425 - 6, Giovanni Antonio Bazzi (il Sodoma): In another scene ... is painted the story of a criminal, who, going to be beheaded, would not be converted or commend himself to God, despairing of His mercy; when, the above-named Saint [Catherine of Siena] praying for him on her knees, her prayers were so acceptable to the goodness of God, that, when the felon's head was cut off, his soul was seen ascending to Heaven; such power with the mercy of God have the prayers of those saintly persons who are in His grace.
Incidentally, I've always found it interesting that medieval Catholicism had a special definition for the word "despair": it means being so convinced of your utter worthlessness and sinfulness that you think even God cannot forgive you and redeem you (i.e. you "despair of" being forgiven). But as sinful as you may be, "despair" is itself a sin, because in feeling that emotion, you wrongly presume to set limits to God's powers (His powers of forgiveness in this case). The moral here is that no matter how heinous your sins, God is capable of forgiving them, as long as you want and ask Him to.
But Vasari's story neatly contradicts that moral, as a third party was able to want and ask God forgiveness for someone else's sins. But fear not, theologians are consummate escape artists and will have a way out of this difficulty.
One miracle that I don't have a specific quote for, but saw many mentions of in Vasari, was the Miracle of the Roses. This has got to be the most useless miracle ever. St. Elisabeth, a German queen, takes food to the poor daily. She hides it under her clothes since the royal family disapproves. One day, her husband the king catches her sneaking off on her errand of mercy and asks what the odd bulk under her clothes is. He lifts aside her cloak, but finds only roses. The food had been miraculously transmogrified! St. Elisabeth escapes a scolding, and presumably the village poor munch on petals and thorns that day.
(As often happens with Catholic saints, this miracle, with nearly all the particulars being intact, has been attributed to other saints, both male and female, in other times and places.)
And now, to close, four additional things of curiosity.
First, a quote that gives the scale of the opulence of the Papal court during the Renaissance (and also gives a taste of why there was a Reformation):Vol. II, p. 64, Valerio Vicentino and others: [Giovanni Bernardi] ... was rewarded by His Holiness with the gift of a Mazza [i.e., the office of mace-bearer], an office which he afterwards sold in the time of Paul III, receiving two hundred crowns for it.
Baccio Bandinelli had several of these Papal sinecures; they appeared to be his retirement plan.
Next, another bit of Papal trivia that I had never heard of before:Vol. II, p. 511, Battista Franco: And among other fanciful things that are in this scene, that part is most beautiful in which the Pope and the Cardinals are throwing down torches and candles from a high place, as is done when some person is excommunicated ...
(For Di Phi people: this reminds me of the ridiculously Gothic expulsion ceremony a certain member proposed...)
Third, a story you don't often hear about the Roman Emperor venerated as a saint in the Eastern Christian churches:Vol. II, p. 417, Michele San Michele and others: ...[A]nd in the other is the scene when the Emperor Constantine causes a number of children to be brought before him, intending to kill him them and to bathe in their blood, in order to cure himself of his leprosy.
This website, however, gives a somewhat different account:At this time, Constantine fell ill with leprosy. The pagan priests and doctors advised him to bathe in the blood of slaughtered children, which he refused to do. Then the Apostles Peter and Paul appeared to him and told him to seek out a bishop, Sylvester, who would heal him of the disease. The bishop instructed him in the Christian faith and baptized him, and the leprosy vanished from the Emperor's body.
Finally, a quote about a pageant disaster. Vasari documents in great detail the lavish pageants that Florentines held for Christmas and other holy days. Only one person in the whole of his work is listed not as a painter, sculptor, or architect, but as an engineer -- a man named Cecca -- and the majority of his Life is dedicated to describing the complex stage machinery he built for these pageants.
They must have been quite a sight to see. One particular set of pageants involved making use of the cavernous interiors of church domes to rig up a representation of Heaven. As near as I can tell, a large iron framework in the shape of a cone was suspended from the dome's ceiling, and would be slowly lowered toward the audience. If I recall correctly, it rotated, too; perhaps with different levels of the cone rotating at different rates.
The framework was of course concealed with fluffy material resembling clouds, and had lots of candles to stand in as stars or heavenly radiance. The various hierachies of angels stood arranged in their proper orders, singing all the while. There were even people representing Mary, Christ, and God Himself. A kind of manacle kept the actors safely shackled to the framework so that they couldn't possibly fall off. Even if they wanted to:Vol. I, p. 512, Don Bartolommeo della Gatta: A fire breaking out in consequence of the great quantity of lights, this work was burnt, together with the man who was representing God the Father, who, being fastened, could not escape, as the angels did, and ... about eight were trampled down in the press ...
There are many different religions that would say that this is what happens when you dare to have a human actor impersonate the Deity. And of course modern fire inspectors would have their own criticisms to give...