Vitruvianism: Origins and Transformations 9783110422283, 9783110377583

Citation preview

Vitruvianism

Transformationen der Antike Herausgegeben von Hartmut Böhme, Horst Bredekamp, Johannes Helmrath, Christoph Markschies, Ernst Osterkamp, Dominik Perler, Ulrich Schmitzer

Wissenschaftlicher Beirat: Frank Fehrenbach, Niklaus Largier, Martin Mulsow, Wolfgang Proß, Ernst A. Schmidt, Jürgen Paul Schwindt

Band 33

De Gruyter

Vitruvianism Origins and Transformations

Edited by

Paolo Sanvito

De Gruyter

Gedruckt mit Mitteln, die die Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft dem Sonderforschungsbereich 644 »Transformationen der Antike« zur Verfügung gestellt hat.

ISBN 978-3-11-037758-3 e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-042228-3 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-042230-6 ISSN 1864-5208 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliografie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über http://dnb.dnb.de abrufbar. © 2016 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Einbandgestaltung: Martin Zech, Bremen Logo »Transformationen der Antike«: Karsten Asshauer – SEQUENZ Druck und Bindung: Hubert & Co. GmbH & Co. KG, Göttingen ♾ Gedruckt auf säurefreiem Papier Printed in Germany www.degruyter.com

Acknowledgements The idea for this conference was born while the editor was a member of the research cluster “Transformationen der Antike”; it was the natural outgrowth of a project on the Vitruvianist Daniele Barbaro, directed by Horst Bredekamp, investigating the numerous Vitruvian editions and manuscripts from the early modern era. Several colleagues and scholars have concretely contributed to the realisation of the present work since then: Jill Kraye helped with the conception of the conference; Wolfgang Wolters attended it and often intervened in discussions; Johannes Helmrath was a wealth of ideas and especially of pragmatic support; Horst Bredekamp substantially advised my project at Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin; and the editorial staff at De Gruyter, particularly Florian Ruppenstein, Katrin Hofmann and Katharina Legutke, was always alert. Christoph Thoenes has repeatedly offered wise advice. Alessandra Veropalumbo (MA Architectural Fac., Naples) has helped in particular in the editing of Millette’s and Oechslin’s indexes. Ingo Herklotz has frequently been available for discussion and debate on the texts. I would like to apologize that not all the bibliographies, which represent the state of research at the time of submission, are updated through 2014. Most manuscripts were already avalable shortly after the conference; just one of them was not handed out until 2014. I would also like to thank the Thyssen-Stiftung (Cologne) and the GerdaHenkel-Stiftung (Düsseldorf ) for financial support of my project during the year 2011. Berlin and Naples, February 2015

Contents Acknowledgements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

V

Paolo Sanvito Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1

Horst Bredekamp Leibniz’ Reflexion von Vitruvs Ichnographia und Scaenographia . . . . . .

13

Daniel Millette Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture . . . . .

19

Giovanni Di Pasquale Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics . . . . . .

49

Peter Fane-Saunders Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

65

Christof Thoenes Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

83

Indra Kagis McEwen „The Architectonic Book“ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

101

Matteo Burioni Polyperspectival Terminology in the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili . . . . .

113

Leonardo Di Mauro Materiali per la ricostruzione della Villa di Poggioreale a Napoli . . . . .

121

Werner Oechslin „Fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“. Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro. Wissen, Kompetenz und vernünftiges Handeln . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

133

Paolo Sanvito How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

157

Fabio Mangone Da Ercolano a Pompei: declino di Vitruvio nella cultura neoclassica napoletana . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

195

VIII

Contents

Index of Names . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

205

Subject Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

211

Introduction The Spatial-Temporal Boundaries of Vitruvianism and the Significance of its Investigations today

Paolo Sanvito Few ancient authors are as representative as Vitruvius for the understanding of the dimensions of the transformation processes from Antiquity into Modernity. The number of writings taking him as a point of departure, after the alleged, but enthusiastic rediscovery of his manuscript by Poggio Bracciolini in 1414 in Saint Gall, is astounding. Only Julian of Ascalon can be accounted beside him as an architectural theoretician; but Julian lived in the 6th century, and wrote in a part of the world where Antiquity had a long duration. Due precisely to abundant evidence of the vast effort of his major assimilation and interpretation through the centuries of the modern era, the art history records Vitruvius as a much-interpreted and transformed author, but also the most disputed one. He thus deserves the attention of Hermes, who in the Sonderforschungsbereich 644 presides over the transformation, the letabok^ of ancient cultures. Even his name is controversial (among all the writers of antiquity, only Caetius Faventinus mentions the cognomen Pollio!) and is subject to continuous scholarly revision. In the Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum we find the mention of a Vitruvius as a military architect in Misenum, but we cannot confirm whether he was the same man who wrote the Ten Books.1 What is the current state of knowledge about the ancient architect and his interpreters through the centuries? After Pierre Gros’s and Elisa Romano’s reliable interpretive and editorial work, Indra Kagis McEwen’s monograph and, quite recently, the lengthy editorial work of Catherine Saliou under the guidance of Pierre Gros, which finally brought completion of the edition of the most problematic Fifth Book, the motives and interests of current disparate research axes have definitively acquired new contours. With completion of the Budé edition (begun 1969, ended 2010) the philological contributions have reached an arrival point, at least temporarily. With the work of scholars such as Philippe Fleury, French archaeological and historical studies have made essential contributions to the progress in this research field. In the 1980 s, also Hanno W. 1

CIL VI, 3393. See Calabi Limentani (1958), 572 – 578, 578. For the identification of some of these inscriptions see: Ruffel/Soubiran (1960), 3 – 154.

2

Paolo Sanvito

Kruft’s Geschichte der Architekturtheorie accomplished its task as a history of Vitruvius’ reception through times. But a new phase begins where philology has completed its task: it must now be the turn of hermeneutics and interpretation, because new documents and above all new funds from the classical studies are constantly expected by scholars; documents which demand change in our knowledge of the world views in the ancient era. The recent appearance of at least two extensive monographs recently appeared, in which Vitruvius is not only part of the title, but also the actual object of investigation may be no accident.2

Vitruvius in pre-modern architectural theories and its immanent political importance Furthermore, it was already during the early modern period, especially in the 15th and the early 16th century, that the vast body of work on architectural theory reflects, in its language and terminology, an extraordinary wealth of concepts and definitions relevant to architectural design and its stylistic variants as adopted in subsequent centuries. In the wake of Vitruvius, and dating from (at the very latest) the publication of the first edition of Alberti’s treatise in 1485, a myriad of treatises jostled for space on the shelves both of specialists and of the earliest libraries, and kept printing presses busy throughout the whole of Europe. The Ten Books had their crucial relevance recognised just after it became evident how any revival of the Antiquity and its greatest contributions relied on the work. Ingrid Rowland basically points out to this phenomenon when she remarks that “many of the most important recent insights into Vitruvius have come from the study not of ancient architecture per se but of its legacy”: of early modern architectural theory, for example.3 Whenever he was reconsidered, however, Vitruvius always retained its pivotal significance as a political work; maybe because the Ten Books had been originally conceived and written as such, as Kagis McEwen demonstrated in the most convincing way. That was just their original sense. However, we encounter Vitruvian researches much earlier in the European past, in principle in all societies and civilizations, in which an urgent need for recovering memory emerged, a request of refreshed knowledge about the lost intellectual heritage of the early Mediterranean cultures, whether Greek, eastern Mediterranean or Italic ones. Such in particular is the case of the concerns of cultural politics in Central Europe since 800 and especially since Charlemagne. During the Carolingian, and later the Ottonian dynasties, the fierce political 2 3

D’Evelyn (2012); McEwen (2003). Rowland (2005), 21.

Introduction

3

necessity of imitating the ancient Roman civilisation, is probably responsible for five extant manuscripts from an homogeneous group, all from the 9th century onwards, derived from an archetype taken to the Carolingian court by Alcuin of York. It was Alcuin who apparently saw the need to include Vitruvius in his extensive programme of renovation of the indispensable “reference texts list” used at the imperial court and collected by its library.4 These manuscripts were the only known Vitruvian sources which continental Europe could rely on, or at least nothing more ancient has been transmitted to us. Already in the 9th century, in the library at Aachen, Vitruvius transmitted, to the contemporary nations as well as to posterity, a political message: about the task of governing and administering a large state. The same political doctrine was re-enacted in every new wave of Vitruvianism later. After the Carolingians had spread this knowledge, it became accepted that issues of architecture, as well as those of governance, and those of the health of a society were very closely related to one another and that they were the ultimative motive for any technical improvement. This is a large deal of what the De architectura essentially reveals, no matter in which historical era or context it comes into use, and not only to the professional architects, but also to other professional categories or guilds. From this point of view, one should try in first place to recognise in Vitruvius the very origin, if not one of the causes of friction, of early modern architectural theory. On the complex history of Vitruvius’s reception in early modern Florence some new insights have been brought to the present conference by Christoph Thoenes, who especially clarifies the pivotal role played by Brunelleschi’s generation in the Vitruvian theoretical transmission. The Roman architect, however, is at least the cause of friction and conflict in the established intellectual and speculative structures from the 15th century onwards. De architectura was the text which the theoreticians of the arts and techniques of those times have confronted themselves with, especially in order to indicate horizons for the future. This even applies for the theoreticians of the virtuous government in philosophy and political theory. After Alberti’s and Brunelleschi’s acquaintance, one of the first careful readers was the versatile artist Lorenzo Ghiberti (goldsmith, sculptor, painter and architect), who according to Richard Krautheimer5 owned, around 1430, a manuscript copy of the De architectura – or at least leafed through it and studied it. But very shortly after him, another Tuscan, Francesco Patrizi (†1492) bishop of Gaeta and a

4 5

On catalogues of Charles’s and his heir Ludovicus the Pious’s library, see Bischoff (1973), and Bischoff (1976). Krautheimer/Krautheimer-Hess (1956), 307.

4

Paolo Sanvito

friend of Fra’ Giocondo’s,6 drew from Vitruvius the inspiration for his treatise De institutione reipublicae, written for Naples and dedicated to Alfonso II of Aragon, but later published in Paris (1494), and for his De regno (written in 1484); and here a mention of the controversial humanist and monk Francesco Colonna’s knowledge of Vitruvius is due – the topic will be specifically addressed in this volume. Patrizi’s treatise De regno (first edited in 1519, Italian vernacular edition in Venice, 1553) draws special attention to the importance of mathematics for the sovereign, to which a specific chapter, at the titulo XIII, “Quid ex mathematicis scientiis discat rex, de arithmetice”, is dedicated No wonder, the De architectura used to be preserved on the mathematical shelves of libraries.7 For the mentioned reasons we can advise Vitruvius’s work as never ideologically neutral, neither at its very release to the ancient public, when it received its double dedication to the Roman emperor, nor during its Nachleben. Some readers gathered the impression that the Latin treatise might have functioned as a projection screen of new ideologies, very much so in the early modern era, and behind its shadow several drastic historical upheavals of that period would frequently try to hide – even the political ones. All initiators of a renewal cyclically used to re-present him as incontradictable authority, just in order to better justify their own plans. Not only the issue of representative, mostly governmental architectures of town halls, royal palaces, or state buildings in general must be seen in the afterlife of the De Architectura as related to issues of cultural change. Also every single residential house, palatial architecture, farm and villa architecture is evidently involved; and furthermore, also the urban planning and the foundation of new cities, and the understanding of architecture as a technical discipline, which radically changes modes of production and life styles. Before the concept of technology was coined, Vitruvius, as a military engineer, was the first architect to conceive a technological vision of his own discipline. The early modern treatises therefore often represent the Vitruvian city model indeed in a technocratic way, similar to a fortress, and in this respect they certainly misunderstand the original meaning of the model. Has Vitruvius, in keeping with the title of this conference (his transformations, his misunderstandings) been used as a deceptive pretence form the 6

7

Patrizi’s De institutione was with all certainty already written as soon as 1471 (this is the year of Sixtus IV’s election) and contains a dedication to the Pontiff in a manuscript now preserved the Vaticana Library, shelf mark Lat. 3084, whose copy is dated 1479; interestingly, another partial copy is found in the former Royal collections at the National Library Naples BNNa, again with dedication to Sixtus IV: shelf mark Ms. VIII G 57, with the complete nine Libri. Its provenance is the Farnese collection, it therefore probably comes from a Roman library. Patrizi (1519), f. LXXVIII.

Introduction

5

part of theoreticians of all historical periods? The assertion might appear as a provocation. However in some cases we might really address the question of some kind of abuse of Vitruvianism, for example as soon as in 1537 with Sebastiano Serlio, who gave his famous Regole generali di architettura the explicit subtitle: con gli essempi dell’antiquità, che, per la magior parte concordano con la dottrina di Vitruvio (in Venetia: Marcolini, 1537): i. e., as clearly stated, only their majority, but the rest differs from him – in fact is evidently opposite to him. It is well known how unconventional Serlio’s concepts of civil architecture were, especially how his model forms of cities: how controversial his ideal plans of cities were – even for his contemporaries.8 In fact, the biased relationship of many architectural theoreticians to their Latin ancestor is paradigmatic: elaborating a domestic architecture, for the various social classes, especially for the middle ones, some of which (as in the case of Serlio) have been also called merchant dwellings, though paradoxically referring to Vitruvius, who lived in the era of the Empire; or while elaborating them, or doing it, like Fra’ Giocondo, on behalf of the king of a larger kingdom, which was about to become the model for a centralised monarchy on the European continent. From this point of view, the function of Vitruvius’s text was to have the patrons and the public opinion accept transformations and changes – but with the support of auctoritas, and therefore in order to make the changes impossible to reverse. For example the use of Book I and of its chapter with the two schemata of the perfect city again relied on auctoritas (I, 1, 12). Vitruvius attached them at the end of the book, and must have been inspired by a now lost Greek treatise on urban planning, climate and orientation.9 It seems that especially Giocondo had a pivotal function, as the international scholarship on the subject could clarify, when he made for the first time most of the Ten Books available to artists – but also to kings – after some of Alberti’s famous complains on them. After he moved from Naples to Paris, he was among the earliest praeceptores of architecture of modern times: Giocondo notoriously taught Guillaume Budé, particularly annotating and commenting Valla’s Vitruvian edition of 1497 with him, who in fact called him a preceptor.10 8 On this particular part of Serlio’s production Mario Carpo has provided several studies. 9 Giocondo (1511), 12r, Cap. VII, “De electione locorum ad usum communem civitatis”. See Hamberg (1965). Contrary to Hamberg’s hypothesis is Enrico Guidoni’s (1987) argument. More on the subject of the “rational” city plan again in: Sanvito (2012), passim. 10 Precisely: “Nobis vero in ea lectione contigit preceptorem eximium nancisci, Iucundum”; see Ciapponi (1989), 102. Valla’s edition owned by Budé (with Cleoneides and Poliziano: Cleoneides [1497]) bears the shelf mark BNF Rés. V318.

6

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 1. Francesco di Giorgio Martini, Wind rose, Magliabechiano Codex, f. 5r. Florence, Biblioteca Nazionale.

Per Gustaf Hamberg has demonstrated that the knowledge of the Hippocratean (or anonymous)11 Perì aéron, hydáton, tópon, On airs, waters and places (De aere, aquis et locis) of Greek climatic, hygienic and social theories, and the concept of health, must have been the major preoccupation of the Ionian philosophers and architects of the classical period as well as of the early modern city builders (fig. 1: such as Francesco di Giorgio Martini). Even in the case of the plans commissioned by the Aragonese kings for the remodelling of Naples (though they are lost), we can easily imagine how the Vitruvian schemata were becoming transformed around 1500 through their application. There, the local street grid had been designed by the Greeks between 500 and 420 B.C., which is about the time when Hippocrates was writing, and humanists at the Aragonese court knew very well about the ancient origin of the entire Campanian colonisation, as the famous letter of 1524 by Gioviano Pontano’s pupil Pietro Summonte to Marc’Antonio Michiel demonstrates. 11 See Böker (1958), col. 2367: “der Autor von Peq· a]qym”.

Introduction

7

Now, we do not know precisely whose voice was talking through such ideal city schemes: Giocondo’s, Alfonso’s or still Vitruvius’s, or the voice of the centrally governed state. At this point I briefly recall Bredekamp’s considerations on Leibniz’s “Eindruck in einem Blick” of the military arts.12 A similar striving for order is implicit in Giocondo’s (but also other contemporary architects’) version of Vitruvius. However, in the case analysed by Hamberg there was likewise a major ruler involved, King Alfonso II, and the care of the territory and of the health of a modern city. As Enrico Guidoni could reliably demonstrate, Giocondo’s drawings, which have been erroneously considered by Hamberg as city plans, are unfortunately only projects for a modern staircase in a palace. Even Phaidon Lagopoulos13 recently infers and evidently accepts Hamberg’s misinterpretation. Nevertheless, Hamberg had the merit of drawing attention to Giocondo’s alleged windrose schemes and to his activity as an urban planning theoretician in the early modern era (later on, he would plan the entire city walls for Treviso, a magnificent work), and he seems to have done it with very good reason. Vitruvius’s prescriptions already show, in fact, the intimate relationship between the heavenly circle, its directions, and more specifically those assumed by Etruscan and early Roman foundation cults, or rituals, and the shape of a city. In other words, no autograph drawing by Giocondo is needed, in order to support the claim of his deep and (for his time) unique understanding of the Vitruvian rules for the foundations of new towns. Lagopoulos in turn has demonstrated, independently from Hamberg’s interpretation, how even more ancient the windrose which we inherit from Vitruvius was, as it was geometrically close to the Etruscan celestial circle we find described by Pliny (Fig. 2; with its two opposite sectors, eastern/favourable and western/unfavourable) – Pliny names it circuli paralleli terrae.14 And 12 Though he of course means those of the Prussian Prince, whom Leibniz indirectly addresses. Horst Bredekamp (2010), 460, reports that Leibniz had recognised the importance of pictorial atlases and their vision in one coup d’oeil – “im Herbst 1679 den Bildatlanten das Vermögen zuerkannt, die dargestellten Inhalte gleichsam spielend und wie in einem Blick, ohne Umschweife der Worte, durch das Sehorgan dem Gemüt vorgebildet und kräftiger eingedrückt [zu bekommen]”. Also the military theoretician Carl von Clausewitz spoke of a “coup d’oeil” as an increased visual capability, functional to the military professions (464). There are similarities between Clausewitz’s concept and Leibniz’s description of Sextus Tarquinius’s life, as Bredekamp reminds in Die Fenster der Monade, 113 ff: “wie in einem Blick [coup d’oeil] und in einer Theatervorstellung zu erfassen ist” (Leibniz, Essai de Theodicée, 1985, Bd. II/2, §415, 264). See also Serres (1968), 7 – 9. 13 Lagopoulos (2009), 218 ff. and esp. 220: “The similarity of this plan [i. e. Giocondo’s drawing] was already noted by Hamberg”. 14 Plin. nat. VI, 29, 212 – 220: “quae nostri circulos appellavere, Graeci parallelos”; more about the circuli in Plin. nat. II 30, 50, 177. See to this regard: Plommer (1971), 159 –

8

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 2. The Etruscan heavenly circle (from Lagopoulos 2009).

according to the modern Greek scholar, “the divergence of 22.5 degrees from the cardinal directions for the streets that derives from his windrose corresponds to divisions of this circle”: the directions Vitruvius prescribes are in a manner related to tradition. 22,5 is exactly equal to the sixteenth part of 3608. But already in 1990 Philippe Fleury hinted to an identical “angle of 238” (circa) used in Alexandria and Naples,15 which is just the angle formed between the East-West axis, and the network of plateiai of the two cities.16 Lothar 162, in which the diagram at p. 161 is – according to the theories which I follow – erroneous. 15 Fleury (1990), 173, n. 5. 16 Such multiple prescriptions (on the streets’ angle in relationship to the East-West line; or on the openness of cities towards a specific heavenly direction, precisely South-East) have been reenacted in fact in early Naples as well, way before Vitruvius. Be a plan derived from the windrose available as a preparation for the city foundation of Naples, or not, the city position and its shape are clearly determined by 5th century B.C. calculations (which Vitruvius on his turn inherited) about the orientation towards S-E and about the rotation of the axis of the windrose according to an angle which is not haphazard (around 22,58; in fact here it rather corresponds to the direction SSE: the city lays on an inclined hill facing this side). Cf. on Alexandreia and on the Alexandrian city orientation, Böker (1958), col. 2366: “Die großen Längsstraßen von Alexandreia sind unter einem Winkel von 23,58 gegen die OW-Linie (von Ostnordost auf Westsüdwest) geneigt angelegt”; “Die Fluchtlinien von Straßenzügen und Lagergassen sind also – sofern man nicht gerade Windkühlung anstrebt, wie in Alexandreia – in die Richtungen kleinster Windstärke einzupeilen”, which is to be compared with Vitr. I 6, 12: “tantum erit uti non certam mensurae rationem … venti”. Also see again Böker [1956], 918 ff.). On winds in Alexandreia however read Strab. XVII, 793: “t|te d³ ja· oR 1tgs_ai pm]ousim 1j t_m boqe_ym ja· toO toso}tou pek\cour% ¦ste j\kkista toO h]qour )kenamdqe?r di\cousim” (at the beginning of summer, “the Etesian winds blow from the north and from the vast sea, so that the Alexandrians spend their time most pleasantly during the summer” – translation Sanvito). On the winds and civic hygiene see also further statements by: Amm. XXII 16. Diod. XVII 52. Ps.-Kallisthenes, I 33. See Martin Erdmann, Zur Kunde der hellenistischen Städtegründungen, (Programm desProtestanti-

Introduction

9

Haselberger, in turn, pointed out to the very plausible Hippodamian origin of the entire hygienic and architectural doctrine of the regular or grid plan in foundations of Greek cities since the 5th century B.C. In his interpretation, even Pergamon (in its most recent districts, founded by Eumenes II), Kyrene and Miletos are involved in the same kind of angle calculations used in Alexandria and Naples.17 Moreover, the emphasis on the Southern cardinal point and its winds, and in Vitruvius’s windroses generally the emphasis on South or East as preferred directions, is related to that on South or East already found by the Etruscans and in writings by Hippocrates.18 All in all, Vitruvius and his approach to the issues of urban planning – but also civil engineering – proved their profound innovative potential and urgency up to today’s architects, even when they were perceived as a “corset”. As Meinrad Engelberg recently very succintly expressed it: “Kreativität, regionale Vielfalt und Innovationsfreude entfalteten sich im ‘vitruvianischen Zeitalter’” zwischen 1500 und 1800 trotz oder gerade wegen dieses einengenden Korsetts, nämlich in ständiger Auseinandersetzung mit dem für alle verbindlichen Kanon”.19

Bibliography Aurigemma, Maria Giulia, “Note sulla diffusione del vocabolario architettonico: Francesco Patrizi”, in: Le due Rome del Quattrocento, hg. v. Stefano Valeri, Roma 1997, 364 – 379. Baldwin, Barry, “The Date, Identity and Career of Vitruvius”, in: Latomus 49 (1990), 425 – 434. Böker, Robert, “Winde” Abt. E “Windrosen”, in: Paulys Realenzyklopädie, Bd. VIIIA2, 1958, col. 2325 – 2381. Böker, Robert, Caesaris Thronus, in: Paulys Realenzyklopädie, Suppl. VIII, 1956, col. 918 – 921. Bischoff, Bernhard, Sammelhandschrift Diez B Sant. 66, Codices selecti phototypice impressi, Bd. 42, Graz 1973. Bischoff, Bernhard, Die Hofbibliothek unter Ludwig dem Frommen, Oxford 1976. schen Gymnasiums(Straßburg) auf das Schuljahr 1883), Straßburg 1883, 16 f and 23: according to the Vitruvian procedure, we would have “1/4 eines rechten Winkels, also 228 12”. 17 Haselberger (1999), 94. 18 See Hippokr. (1927), 59 (Perì aéron, 3 – 6,5 – 10): cities facing the sunrise are healthier: “ýjºsai lem pq¹r t±r !matok!r toO Bk¸ou j´omtai, ta¼tar eQj¹r eWmai rcieimot´qar”. But see also, most recently, Filges/Kreuz (2013) on the long-term planning principles for Priene (3rd cent.) and Bononia (Bologna, deducted as colony in 189 B.C.), whose architectural completion was foreseen way earlier than it actually happened. 19 Engelberg (2004), part. 271.

10

Paolo Sanvito

Bredekamp, Horst, Die Fenster der Monade: Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz’ Theater der Natur und Kunst, Berlin 2004. Bredekamp, Horst, “Die Erkenntniskraft der Plötzlichkeit. Hogrebes Szenenblick und die Tradition des coup d’oeil”, in: Was sich nicht sagen laesst: das Nicht-Begriffliche, hg. v. Joachim Bromand/Guido Kreis, Berlin 2010, 455 – 468 Calabi Limentani, Ida, “Architetto”, in: Enciclopedia dell’arte antica, classica e orientale, Bd. V (1958), 572 – 578. Ciapponi, Lucia A., “Agli inizi dell’umanesimo francese: fra Giocondo e Guglielmo Budé”, in: Forme e vicende: Per Giovanni Pozzi, hg. v. Ottavio Besomi, Padova 1989, 101 – 118. Cleoneides, Hoc in uolumine haec opera continentur. Cleonidae Harmonicum introductorium interprete Georgio Valla placentino. L. Vitruuii Pollionis de architectura libri decem. Sexti Iulii Frontini de Aquaeductibusliber unus. Angeli Policiani opusculum: quod panemistenom inscribitur. Angeli Policiani in priora anlytica praelectio. Cui titulus est Lamia, Venetiis: per Simonem Papiensem dictum Biuilaquam 1497. D’Evelyn, Margaret Muther, Venice and Vitruvius, New Haven, Conn. 2012. Engelberg, Meinrad, “Weder Handwerker noch Ingenieur. Architektenwissen der Neuzeit”, in: Macht des Wissens. Entstehung der modernen Wissensgesellschaft 1500 – 1820, hg. v. Richard van Dülmen/Sina Rauschenbach, Köln/Weimar/Wien 2004, 241 – 271 Filges, Axel/Kreuz, Patric, “Der lange Weg zur Musterstadt: zu Ausbau und Vervollständigung von Städten am Beispiel von Bononia (Bologna) und Priene”, in: Dialoge über politische Räume in vormodernen Kulturen: Perspektiven und Ergebnisse der Arbeit des Forschungsclusters 3 und Beiträge seiner Abschlusstagung vom 20.–22. Juni 2012 in München, hg. v. Rudolf Haensch/Ulrike Wulf-Rheid, Rahden 2013, 55 – 78. Fleury, Philippe (Hg.), Vitruve, De l’architecture: Livre I, Paris 1990. Frézouls, Edmond, “Sur la conception de l’art chez Vitruve”, in: Antiquitas graecoromana ac tempora nostra. Acta Congressus Internationalis Habiti Brunae Diebus 12 – 16 Mensis Aprilis MCMLXVI, hg. v. Jan Burian/Ladislav Vidman, Prague 1968, 439 – 449. Frézouls, Edmond, “Aspects de l’histoire architecturale du théâtre romain”, in: Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt, Bd. II,12,1, hg. v. Hildegard Temporini, Berlin 1982, 343 – 441. Geertman, Herman, “Vitruvio e i rapporti numerici”, in: Bulletin Antieke Beschaving 59/ 1 (1984), 53 – 62. Giocondo, Giovanni, M. Vitruvius per Iocundum solito castigatior factus cum figuris et tabula ut iam legi et intelligi possit, Venezia (Tacuino) 1511. Guidoni, Enrico, “La scala a chiocciola di Fra’ Giocondo (ma l’urbanistica rinascimentale, Napoli, Vitruvio e l’utopia non c’entrano)”, in: Storia della città 12/44 (1987), 3 – 5. Hamberg, Per Gustaf, “Vitruvius, Fra’ Giocondo and the City Plan of Naples. A Commentary on some Principles of Ancient Urbanism and their Rediscovery in the Renaissance”, in: Acta archaeologica 36 (1965), 105 – 125. Haselberger, Lothar, “Geometrie der Winde, windige Geometrie: Städtebau nach Vitruv und Aristophanes”, in: Stadt und Umland: neue Ergebnisse der archäologischen Bauund Siedlungsforschung: Bauforschungskolloquium in Berlin vom 7. bis 10. Mai 1997 veranstaltet vom Architektur-Referat des DAI, hg. v. Ernst-Ludwig Schwandner/Klaus Rheidt, Mainz 1999, 90 – 100.

Introduction

11

Hersey, George L., The Lost Meaning of Classical Architecture: Speculations on Ornaments from Vitruvius to Venturi, Cambridge MA 1988. Hippocrates, Hippocratis Indices librorum, Iusiurandum, Lex, De arte, De medico, De decente habitu, Praeceptiones, De prisca medicina, De aere locis aquis, De alimento, De liquidorum usu, De flatibus, Corpus Medicorum Graecorum, hg. v. Johan Ludvig Heiberg, Bd. I,1, Leipzig/Berlin 1927. Krautheimer, Richard/Krautheimer-Hess, Trude, Lorenzo Ghiberti, Princeton 1956. Kruft, Hanno-W., Geschichte der Architekturtheorie: von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart, München 1985 Lagopoulos, Alexandros Ph., “The Cosmic and the Aesthetic: Two hidden Codes of the Vitruvian City”, in: L’espace dans l’image et dans le texte, hg. v. Pierre Pellegrino, Urbino 2000, 132 – 140. Lagopoulos, Alexandros Ph., “Semiotics of the Vitruvian City”, in: Semiotica 175 (2009), 139 – 251. Marconi, Paolo, “Il problema della forma della città nei teorici di architettura del rinascimento”, in: Palladio 22 (1972), 49 – 88. McEwen, Indra Kagis, Vitruvius: Writing the Body of Archictecture, Cambridge MA/ London 2003. McKay, Alexander, Vitruvius, Architect and Engineer. Buildings and Building Techniques in Augustan Rome, Basingstoke/London 1978. Müller, Werner, Die heilige Stadt, Roma quadrata, himmlisches Jerusalem und der Mythos vom Weltnabel, Stuttgart 1961. Nielsen, Karl, “Remarques sur les noms grecs et latins des vents et des régions du ciel”, in: Classica et mediaevalia 7 (1945), 1 – 113. Pellati, Francesco, “La dottrina degli elementi nella fisica di Vitruvio”, in: Rinascimento 2 – 4 (1951), 241 – 25 9. Plommer, Hugh, “The Circle of the Winds in Vitruvius”, in: The Classical Review N.S. 21, No. 2 (Jun., 1971), 159 – 162. Raven, John E., “Polyclitus and Pythagoreanism”, in: The Classical Quarterly 45 (1951) 147 – 152. Ruffel, Pierre/Soubiran, Jean, “Recherches sur la tradition manuscrite de Vitruve”, in: Pallas 9/3 (1960), 3 – 154. Rykwert, Joseph, The Idea of a Town: The Anthropology of urban Form in Rome, Italy, and the Ancient World. Princeton, NJ 1976. Sanvito, Paolo, “The Urban Grid Plan in Downtown Naples and the Aragonese Dynasty. A Case of Early Modern Greek Revival?”, in: Second International Meeting of the European Architectural History Network, 31 May-3 June 2012, in Brussels, ed.: Koninklijke Vlaamse Academie van België voor Wetenschappen en Kunsten, Bruxelles 2012, 346 – 353. Serres, Michel, Le système de Leibniz et ses modèles mathématiques, Paris 1968.

Leibniz’ Reflexion von Vitruvs Ichnographia und Scaenographia Horst Bredekamp 1. Die Differenz zwischen Ichnographia und Scaenographia In seinen „Zehn Bücher über die Architektur“ hat Vitruv die Qualität der Ausführung eines Bauwerkes mit drei Formen der Disposition verbunden: der Ichnographia (Grundriss), der Orthographia (Aufriss der Fassade) und der Scaenographia (Perspektivische Wiedergabe von Fassade und Seitenflächen). Da der Fassadenaufriss in der Perspektivdarstellung enthalten ist, sind letztere wie auch der Grundriss von entscheidender Bedeutung. Die Ichnographia, so erläutert Vitruv, „ist der unter Verwendung von Lineal und Zirkel in verkleinertem Maßstab ausgeführte Grundriss, aus dem (später) die Umrisse der Gebäudeteile auf dem Baugelände genommen werden.“1 Die Scaenographia dagegen „ist die perspektivische (illusionistische) Wiedergabe der Fassade und der zurücktretenden Seiten und die Entsprechung sämtlicher Linien auf einen Kreismittelpunkt“.2 Insbesondere dieses Begriffspaar hat weit über die Architektur hinaus eine eigene Wirkungsgeschichte entfaltet, die bis in unsere Tage reicht. Die Linie beginnt mit Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, der das vitruvsche Begriffspaar der Ichnographia und der Scaenographia immer wieder eingesetzt hat, um aus dem Grundriss und der Perspektive zwei unterschiedliche Prinzipien nicht allein des Sehens, sondern der Erkenntnis schlechthin zu entwickeln. So hat er in einem im Jahr 1712 verfassten Brief an den Jesuiten Bartholomaeus des Bosses die menschliche Blickform als Scenographia, die göttliche dagegen als Ichnographia definiert. Diese Unterscheidung bestimmt sein gesamtes System der Erkenntnis.3 Leibniz ist zu dieser erkenntnistheoretischen Differenzierung durch die Frage gelangt, welche der beiden Darstellungsformen eine größere Zahl von Blickpunkten erlaubt. In dieser Problemstellung konzentriert Leibniz seine Sicht der Stellung des Menschen in der Welt. Um das in der Monade 1 2 3

Vitr. I, II, 2, 36 f., Z. 24 f.): „Ichnographia est circini regulaeque modice continens usus, e qua capiuntur formarum in solis arearum descriptiones“. Vitr. I, II,1, 38 f., Z. 1 f.): „Item scaenographia est frontis et laterum absdedentium adumbratio ad circinique centrum omnium lineam responsus“. Hierzu und zum Folgenden: Bredekamp (2004), 81 – 84.

14

Horst Bredekamp

angelegte Wissen zu entfalten, muss diese, wie es in der „Monadologie“ heißt, verschiedene Blickpunkte, also Perspektiven einnehmen: „Und wie eine und dieselbe Stadt von verschiedenen Seiten betrachtet ganz anders und gleichsam perspektivisch vervielfacht erscheint, so kommt es auch, dass es infolge der unendlichen Vielfalt der einfachen Substanzen ebenso viele Universen gibt, die dennoch nur die unterschiedlichen Perspektiven eines einzigen gemäß den verschiedenen Gesichtspunkten jeder Monade sind.“4 Die Stadt bleibt jeweils dieselbe, aber aus jedem Blickpunkt ergibt sie ein anderes Gepräge. Aus diesem Grund haben perspektivische Darstellungen einen nur relativen Charakter; sie erschließen jeweils nur einen, und in dieser Begrenzung auch verzerrten Aspekt. Über dem Grundriss dagegen können sich von zahllosen Blickpunkten aus alle nur möglichen erdachten oder auch realisierten Bauformen ergeben, ohne dass dieser verändert würde: er bleibt konstant. In diesem Sinn hat Leibniz in einem vermutlich im Jahre 1688 verfassten Text die entscheidende Feststellung getroffen, dass eine „Ichnographie unendlich viele Scenographien“ besitze.5Mit dieser Aussage war die Hierarchie zwischen Grundriss und Perspektivdarstellung entschieden. Der unwandelbare Grundriss, die Ichnographia, ist für Leibniz in einem metaphysischen Sinn wahr, weil er von allen Perspektivpunkten aus angemessen erkannt werden kann. Ob aus der Nähe oder der Distanz, ob von oben und von der Rückseite des Papieres her, ob aus der Schräge oder aus lotrechtem Blick: zwar verändert sich der Grundriss aus unterschiedlichen Blickpunkten, aber seine jeweils unterschiedliche Erscheinung lässt unmittelbar auf das schließen, was er präsentiert. Er bleibt, dies ist Leibniz’ Bewertungsgrundlage, aus jedem Blickwinkel derselbe, und durch diese instantan sich ergebende Beziehung zwischen den unterschiedlichen Ansichten und der Sache selbst werden die Relationen zwischen den verschiedenen Blickpunkten erschließbar. Die Ichnographia erlaubt Leibniz zufolge alle nur möglichen Betrachtungspunkte wie auch die Bestimmung der zwischen ihnen wirkenden Verhältnisse. Mit ihrer Hilfe betrachtet Gott „nicht nur die einzelnen Monaden und die Modifikationen jeder Monade, sondern auch deren Relationen.“6Aus diesem Grund repräsentiert der Grundriss für Leibniz das göttliche Sehvermögen, wohingegen die Perspektivdarstellung keinen vergleichbaren Gehalt beanspruchen kann, weil sie den dargestellten Körper aus einem einzigen Blickpunkt wiedergibt, der die Linien und Flächen des dargestellten Körpers 4 5 6

Leibniz, Monadologie, § 57 (S. 41 – 43),. Vgl. zur Perspektivität der Monadenlehre Pape (1994). Leibniz, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, Bd. VI 4B, Nr. 312, 1618, Anm. 5. „Quemadmodum una ichnographia infinita[s] habet sce[nographias]“. Zu den Begriffen vgl. Serres (1968), 7 – 9 und Schepers (2002, 107 „Porro Deus non tantum singulas monades et cujuscunque Monadis modificationes spectat, sed etiam earum relationes“ (Leibniz, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, Bd. II, 438; übers. nach Widmaier [1983], 828. Vgl. Bredekamp [2004], 84).

Leibniz’ Reflexion von Vitruvs Ichnographia und Scaenographia

15

unverrückbar in den Koordinaten der dritten Dimension fixiert. Diese mit der Fluchtperspektive gegebene Einfrierung der Gegenstände in den Raum hat die Kritik an dieser Art Projektion von Seiten der Architektur seit jeher bestimmt.7 In dieser Fixierung des Blickpunktes liegt, was den menschlichen vom göttlichen Blick trennt: „Und zwischen der Erscheinung der Körper und Gott gegenüber besteht gewissermaßen ein Unterschied wie zwischen einer SCENOGRAPHIA und einer ICHNOGRAPHIA.“8 Während die Perspektive die Welt aus der Willkür nur eines Blickpunktes wiedergibt, erlaubt der Grundriss unendlich viele Perspektivdarstellungen. In ihrer Bezogenheit auf nur einen Blickpunkt repräsentiert die Perspektivdarstellung für Leibniz die menschliche Wahrnehmungsform, während der Grundriss in seiner potentiellen Multiperspektivität den göttlichen Blick verkörpert. Mit dieser Unterscheidung hat Leibniz etwas von der Magie des Grundrisses begriffen, der es erlaubt, wie mit einem Engelsblick durch die Mauern hindurchzusehen und mit Hilfe seines Darstellungsprinzipes die Imagination eines realen oder möglichen Bauwerkes erzeugen zu können. Leibniz’ Zurücksetzung der Scenographie vitruvscher Definition äußert sich im Gegenzug als Kritik der Zentralperspektive moderner Prägung, die jeweils auf nur einem Standpunkt beruht und damit Anamorphosen der Welt erzeugt.9

2. Die „Wissenschaft des Sehens“ Leibniz’ Differenzierung zwischen Ichnographia und Scenographia könnte eine grundlegende Absage an die Welt der perspektivischen Wiedergaben bedeuten, insofern diese an die Fixiertheit des menschlichen Blickes gebunden bleiben. Hieraus hat er jedoch keinen resignativen Schluss gezogen, sondern vielmehr den Ansporn entwickelt, jene Multiperspektivität für die dritte Dimension des Raumes zu entwickeln, die der Grundriss in seiner Flächigkeit erlaubt. Hierin liegt der Auftrag zu einer Wissenschaft des Sehens: „Deshalb scheint die Realität der Körper, des Raumes, der Bewegung, der Zeit darin zu bestehen, dass sie PHAENOMENA DEI oder OBJECTUM SCIENTIAE VISIONIS sind“.10 Die Realität der Dinge als Phänomenwelt Gottes muss zum „Objekt einer Wissenschaft des Sehens“ gemacht werden, welche die Kluft zwischen Gott und Mensch, Grundriss und Perspektivdarstellung zu mindern sucht. 7 Linfert (1931). 8 „Et inter corporum apparitionem erga nos et apparitionem erga Deum discrimen est quodammodo, quod inter scenographiam et ichnographiam“ (Leibniz, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, Bd. II, 438; übers. nach: Widmaier [1983], 828). 9 Bredekamp (2010a), 278 – 283 mit weiterer Literatur. 10 Leibniz, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, Bd. II, 438; übers. nach Widmaier (1983), 828.

16

Horst Bredekamp

Eines der Mittel dieser objektiven Wissenschaft des Sehens ist der „coup d’oeil“.11 Inspiriert durch die kunsttheoretische Aufrüstung von Leonardo da Vincis subito der Bilderkennung,12 hat Leibniz die visio des coup d’oeil, die ein instantanes Begreifen erlaubt, als ein Vermögen definiert, das eine Fülle von Perspektivpunkten, selbst jenseits aller Wissenschaft, aller Philosophie und aller Mathematik einzunehmen vermag.13 Leibniz hat sich fraglos auf die höchst einflussreiche Malereitheorie des Roger de Piles bezogen, die im 17. und 18. Jahrhundert einen kanonischen Rang erhielt. De Piles ging davon aus, dass der Betrachter eines Gemäldes augenblicklich, durch den „ersten Blick“ eine erkenntnisträchtige Empfindung entwickelt.14 Sie beruht ihm zufolge auf der Fähigkeit, das Gesamt des tout-ensemble simultan zu erfassen,15 und darin nähert sich diese Blickfunktion jenem umfassenden Vermögen zur Multiperspektivität, die Leibniz mit Vitruvs Ichnographia verband. Diese wurde zum Inbegriff des genialen Vermögens auf jedwedem Gebiet, und so auch und vor allem in jener Militärtechnik, die bis in das neunzehnte Jahrhundert hinein als Kunst galt.16 Unter Bezug auf das Militärtraktat Friedrichs des Großen17 hat Carl von Clausewitz in seinem Werk „Vom Kriege“, dem wohl bedeutendsten Traktat über das Militärwesen, den coup d’oeil als das ausschlagebende Vermögen der Kriegführung erklärt.18 Für Clausewitz ist die Fähigkeit zum coup d’oeil geeignet, das militärische Genie zu bestimmen. Diese Einschätzung gilt in maßgeblichen Teilen der Militärtheorie bis heute.19 In all diesen Beispielen geht es um die Fähigkeit, auf einen Schlag verschiedene Perspektiven zu reflektieren. Leibniz hat dieses Vermögen in erkenntnistheoretischer Hinsicht mit jenem Blickvermögen verbunden, das der Grundriss ermöglicht. Auf diese Weise haben die vitruvschen Kategorien der Ichnographia und der Scaenographia eine Form der Differenzierung erfahren, die 11 Leibniz, Brief an Joachim Bouvet, 15. 2. 1701, in: Leibniz, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, Bd. I, 19, Nr. 202, 408, Z. 16. 12 „La pittura ti rappresenta in un subito la sua essenza nella virtú visiva, e per il proprio mezzo, d’onde la impressiva riceve gli obbietti naturali, ed ancora nel medesimo tempo, nel quale si compone l’armonica proporzionalità delle parti che compongono il tutto, che contenta il senso“ (Leonardo da Vinci, Trattato della pittura , § 19, S. 17). 13 Hierzu und zum Folgenden Bredekamp (2010b), 460 f. 14 „[…] que le Tableau du premier coup d’oeil en inspire la Passion principale“ (Roger de Piles, „Remarques sur l’Art de Peinture de Dufresnoy“). 15 Puttfarken (1986), 156 f., 163. 16 Bredekamp (2010b), 461 f. 17 Friedrich der Große, „Die Generalprinzipien des Krieges“, 21. Vgl. ders. Instructions Militaires du Roi de Prusse pour ses Généraux (hg. v. Georg Rudolph Faesch), Frankfurt/ Leipzig 1761, 26: „Le premier est, d’avoir le talent, de juger combien un terrain peu contenir de Troupes“. 18 von Clausewitz (1991), 55. 19 Rogers (2002); Reinwald (2000); Athens (1992 – 93); Duggan (2005), 6 – 10.

Leibniz’ Reflexion von Vitruvs Ichnographia und Scaenographia

17

ihrerseits weitreichende Folgen für die Erkenntnistheorie mit sich brachte. Im Zuge dieses Vorganges hat der Grundriss mit seiner Fähigkeit, eine multiperspektivische Zugänglichkeit zu gewährleisten, eine ungeahnte philosophische Dimension erhalten. Dieses weitreichende Beispiel einer Transformation der Antike, das sich an nur zwei Begriffen entzündet hat, zeigt die oftmals untergründige Wirkung Vitruvs selbst in Bereichen, wo sie zunächst nicht zu erwarten wären.

Quellen da Vinci: siehe unter Leonardo da Vinci de Piles, Roger, „Remarques sur l’Art de Peinture de Dufresnoy“, in: Charles-Alfonse Dufresnoy, De arte graphica, Paris 1688, 135. Friedrich der Große, „Die Generalprinzipien des Krieges und ihre Anwendung auf die Taktik und Disziplin der preußischen Truppen“, = Die Werke Friedrichs des Großen, Bd. 6 (Militärische Schriften), hg. v. Gustav Berthold Volz, deutsch v. Friedrich v. Oppeln-Bronikowski, Berlin 1913, 1 – 126. Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm, Monadologie [Französisch/Deutsch], übers. u. hg. v. Hartmut Hecht, Stuttgart 1998. Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm, Sämtliche Schriften und Briefe, hg. v. der Preußischen, später Deutschen Akademie der Wissenschaften zu Berlin, Berlin 1923 ff. Leonardo da Vinci, Trattato della pittura, hg. v. Ettore Camesasca, Milano 1995. Vitruv, Zehn Bücher über Architektur. De Architectura Libri Decem (übers. v. Curt Fensterbusch), Darmstadt 1996.

Literaturverzeichnis Athens, Arthur J. Unraveling the Mystery of Battlefield Coup d’Oeil, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas 1992 – 93. Bredekamp, Horst, Die Fenster der Monade. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz’ Theater der Natur und Kunst, Berlin 2004. Bredekamp, Horst, Theorie des Bildakts, Frankfurter Adorno-Vorlesung 2007, Berlin 2010a. Bredekamp, Horst, „Die Erkenntniskraft der Plötzlichkeit. Hogrebes Szenenblick und die Tradition des Coup d’Oeil“, in: Was sich nicht sagen läßt. Das Nicht-Begriffliche in Wissenschaft, Kunst und Religion, hg. v. Joachim Bromand/Guido Kreis, Berlin 2010b, 455 – 468. Clausewitz, Carl von, Vom Kriege, Frankfurt am Main/Berlin 1991. Duggan, William, Coup d’oeil: Strategic Intuition in Army Planning, New York 2005 [http://www.strategicstudiesinstitute.army.mil/pdffiles/PUB631.pdf ]. Linfert, Carl, „Die Grundlagen der Architekturzeichnung. Mit einem Versuch über französische Architekturzeichnungen des 18. Jahrhunderts“, in: Kunstwissenschaftliche Forschungen 1 (1931), 133 – 246.

18

Horst Bredekamp

Pape, Helmut „Über einen semantischen Zusammenhang von projektiver Geometrie und Ontologie in Leibniz’ Begriff der Perspektive“, in: Leibniz und Europa, hg. v. Albert Heinekamp/Isolde Hein, Hannover 1994, 573 – 580. Puttfarken, Thomas, „From Central Perspective to Central Composition: The Significance of the Central Ray“, in: Marburger Jahrbuch für Kunstwissenschaft 21 (1986), 156 – 164. Reinwald, Brian R., „Tactial Intuition“, in: Military Review. Professional journal of the United States Army 80/5 (2000), 79 – 88. Rogers, Clifford J., „Clausewitz. Genius and the Rules“, in: Journal of Military History 66/4, (2002), 1167 – 1176. Schepers, Heinrich, „Schwierigkeiten mit dem Körper. Leibnitz’ Weg zu den Phänomenen“, in: Nihil sine Ratione. Mensch, Natur und Technik im Wirken von G.W. Leibniz, hg. v. Hans Poser u. a., Nachtragsband, Berlin 2002, 99 – 110. Serres, Michel, Le sytème de Leibniz et ses modèles mathématique, Paris 1968. Widmaier, Rita, „Optische Holographie – ein Modell für Leibniz Monadenlehre“, in: Leibniz: Werk und Wirkung, Vortäge des 4. Internationalen Leibniz-Kongresses Hannover 1983, Hannover 1983, Bd. 1, 828 – 835.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture Daniel Millette The reconstruction of past monuments for very present benefits is not a new activity; this has been an ongoing occurrence for millennia. The present-day acceleration of commemoration through monument reconstruction, however, seems unprecedented. For the past decade, for example, the rush to rebuild classical remains in and around the Mediterranean basin remains unmatched. Entire sites are planned for reconstruction, with one particular monument type standing out within the classical landscape: The theatre. Whether Roman or Greek, theatre monuments are being reconstructed from Gaul to the Greek islands. And the reconstruction of the theatre is not limited to the physical landscape; it persists within the research literature, rendered in what can at times be most convincing detail. Interestingly, one the key textual references used to buttress physical and hypothetical reconstructions is the set of instructions that Vitruvius delivers in his De architectura’s Book V (iii, 3 – 8; v, 1 – 7; vi, 1 – 8 and vii, 1 – 2). Yet anyone who peruses the passages quickly realizes that they are general and leave a lot to be desired in terms of precise theatre design tenets. The references to Vitruvius become important in theatre reconstruction, particularly when archaeological evidence is laconic. This paper will examine the unquestioned tradition of turning to Vitruvius to justify theatre reconstructions, arguing that a new classical theatre type is in the process of being created.

Introduction1 One set of fragments that is still used in commemorative activity is the set of classical monuments that persist throughout the Mediterranean basin and beyond. Greece, for example, has been in the process of rebuilding dozens of theatres as monuments commemorating what could be called ‘better times’. My contention is that there persists a dual process within which ‘gaps’ are used when rebuilding – in this case classical monuments, in order to arrive a specific 1

A short version of this paper was read at the ‘Contained Memory’ conference at Massey University in Wellington in December of 2010. As the research progressed, a more developed version of the paper was communicated at the ‘Vitruvius Colloquium’ at Humbolt University in Berlin, in July, 2011. This paper has benefited from both.

20

Daniel Millette

outcome, in this case, ideal classical types, and in turn, although not necessarily intentionally, revising our very notion of what classical architecture is, and hence, what it can be made to stand for. I’ll here consider the first part of the process by going back to the use of the sourcebook of classical architectural information: That is to say de architectura. The two thousand year old treatise outlines its author, Vitruvius’ thoughts on architectura. Important is that this is not a book about his ‘current’ architecture per se; it is a book on architecture the way he thought it should be. How this book is interpreted is key because its reading continues to define and arbitrate the classical. One of the features of the multitude of translations of the book is their penchant for illustrative material. I have always wondered why translators and transcribers have, through the last 500 years, been so persistent in providing drawings to supplement the words in the book. This of course alters the original book. And what this means is that our notion of what classical entails, also changes in time. When it comes to classical architecture for example, very rare do we find research that does not include at least some reference to the ancient text. This comes from a tradition born out of Renaissance treatise writing, influenced by de architectura, combined with traditions related to the training of architects, whereby ancient ruins were measured, drawn, and then compared to the tenets found in Vitruvius’ work. Schools of architecture continued the practice and today we find echoes of the same tradition within curricula: Five hundred years after Alberti, we still find students of architecture visiting Rome, measuring monuments, drawing the ruins, comparing them to De architectura and known examples, and in turn producing reconstruction drawings.2 The result has not been without repercussions: A secondary set of traditions has emerged, whereby monuments are reconstructed using the same modus operandi: That is to say that ruined monuments are physically reconstructed by measuring their ruined state, comparing the same ruins to Vitruvius’ highly generalized tenets, and then developing reconstruction drawings and in turn rebuilding monuments. The process is one which involves the complicity of historians, architects, builders and in turn, chroniclers of classical architecture. This paper outlines and retraces such a process: The reconstruction of the theatre at Orange, France, and the acceptance of the resulting construction as a genuine classical monument.

2

For a discussion on classical architectural training since the seventeenth century, see: Millette (2006), 8 – 22.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

21

Fig. 1. The Theatre at Orange, 1955 – Source: Archives d’Orange

The Theatre at Orange Sited within the urban plan of the Roman settlement, the theatre at Orange (Arausio)3 was initially built during the first century A.D., perhaps earlier, and would have been, quite clearly, a magnificent civic monument (fig. 1).4 For an idea of its scale, consider that the cavea, its circular seating space, is approximately 103 meters wide and seats some 7,000 spectators. The highest seats are over 30 meters above the orchestra. The scaenae frons, or scene, is divided into horizontal levels, with an assortment of bays and niches that would have accommodated statues on its inner facade as well as a set of doorways along the lower part of its elevation. The scaenae building has inner spaces designed for a variety of uses and along its inner and outer faces can still be seen traces of the architectural decor that would have fit within a comprehensive iconographic and memorial program.5 The facade of the colossal building confronts the 3 4 5

The city is mentioned by early chroniclers like Strabo (IV, 1, 11) and Pliny the Elder (III, 36), among others and its importance in Antiquity is without doubt. For a discussion of some of the early sources (albeit dated), see Chatelain (1908), 1 – 122. The literature related to early Arausio and historical Orange is vast. For an albeit dated bibliography, see Rigord (1964). The technical and architectural features of the theatre have been recorded by several scholars. See for example: Sear (2006), 245 – 47. See also Gros (2002), 272 f. – A more comprehensive publication is underway, directed by J. Ch. Moretti and A. Badi. On decor, see Janon/Janon/Kilmer (2009). For related context, see Rosso (2009).

22

Daniel Millette

present-day viewer as it must have stunned the urban dweller or visitor of Antiquity. Outside the building, to the north of the main wall, is a plaque that reads as follows: UNESCO Cet ensemble monumental est inscrit sur la liste du Patrimoine mondial. L’inscription sur cette liste consacre la valeur universelle et exceptionelle d’un bien culturel ou naturel afin qu’il soit protégé au benefice de l’humanité. Théâtre Antique d’Orange Patrimoine mondial.6

With words like “Patrimoine mondial” (World heritage), “valeur universelle” (universal value) and “protégé au bénéfice de l’humanité” (protected for the benefit of humanity) it is impossible to consider the space about to be entered without a pre-registered feeling of awe. The same observer might purchase the official guidebook.7 Opening the book, the second sentence of the theatre description reads as follows: “Cet édifice, comme celui d’Arles, présente toutes les composantes du théâtre latin selon Vitruve : la cavea en hémicycle à escaliers radiaux, les accès latéraux, le mur de scène à ordres décoratifs superposés et les parascaenia”.8 With UNESCO, the Direction du Patrimoine’s official guidebook, and Vitruvius as authorities, questioning the authenticity and architectural integrity of the monument seems quite redundant.

The Historical Tradition The theatre appears to have fallen into disuse some time during the fourth or fifth centuries after waves of barbaric attacks resulted in fires devastating the inner areas.9 Little is known of the theatre’s use during the Middle Ages. It may have served as a defensive structure for the castle built upon the hill to the south; 6

7 8 9

[UNESCO – This monumental ensemble is inscribed onto the World Heritage List. The inscription onto the list signifies the universal and exceptional value of a cultural or natural entity so that it may be protected to the benefit of humanity. Antique theatre of Orange. World Heritage]. (All translations from this point on, are by the author). Bellet (1991). Ibid., 30. [This building, as the one at Arles, presents all of the tenets of Vitruvius’ Latin theatre: the semi-circular cavea with radiating stairways, lateral access points, the scaenae wall with superimposed decorative orders and a parascaenia]. For a summary on the research on the burn marks and related phenomena, see P. Milner, “Further studies of the Roman theatre at Orange – A progress report for Dr. M. Woehl,” Technology Note, no. TN-00/1 (2000).

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

23

Fig. 2. la Pise’s Theatre at Orange – de la Pise, 1640, plate 2

remnants of a medieval (?) tower built atop the scaenae wall were still partially intact during the early nineteenth century.10 One of the earliest textual references to the structure is contained within Jean Bouveyroy’s Discours des entiquitéz de la ville dorange [sic] of 1649.11 Bouveyroy’s narrative is detailed and it records the presence of buildings sited within the cavea where the seats should

10 The tower was demolished in the early 1830 s. See Prosper Mérimée, Notes d’un voyage dans le Midi de la France (Paris, 1835), 113. See also, Louis Chatelain, “Les Monuments Romains d’Orange,” in Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études 170 (1908), 89. 11 Jean Bouveyroy, “Discours des entiquitéz de la ville dorange,” in Archives Municipales d’Orange Z 1174 (August 24, 1649).

24

Daniel Millette

Fig. 3. Giuliano de Sangallo’s Theatre at Orange – late 15th c. – Source: Archives d’Orange

have been.12 From his commentary, we are told that at some point before the seventeenth century, the space was altered substantially: Gone is the cavea proper and new are dozens of houses that fill the area.13 At approximately the same time that Bouveyroy was writing his Discours, Joseph de la Pise was preparing a history of the city and its monuments.14 In it, he provides an account of the theatre, complete with a multitude of references to Antiquity’s erudites such as Varro.15 What is most interesting is the illustration of the theatre that he provides (fig. 2). In the textual and visual depictions, de la Pise outlines the theatre with the scaenae in full elevation and the cavea fitted with horizontal sections of seating, complete with animalfighting gladiators within the orchestra. The scaenae frons and cavea are completely intact. The difficulty of course is that the fig. conflicts with Bouveyroy’s mention of houses in the cavea. In other words, if we accept Bouveyroy’s words, this illustration seems to have less to do with the remains of the ruined theatre – certainly in-so-far as the cavea is concerned – and more to 12 Ibid., ddd. Note also that a Monuments Historiques plaque installed onto the building wall indicates that the cavea was freed from houses built within it during the Middle Ages. 13 Ibid. dd, ddd, eee. 14 Joseph de la Pise, Tableau de l’histoire des Princes et Principauté d’Orange Divisé en quatre parties selon les quatre races qui ont regné souverainement depuis l’an 793. Commençant a Gvillavme av Cornet Premier Prince d’Orange. Jusques a Frederish Henry de Nassau à prefent Regnant (La Haye: De l’Imprimerie de Théodore Maire, 1640). 15 Reference to Varro is on page 16.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

25

Fig. 4. The Theatre at Orange – late eighteenth century – P. Fourdrinier (XVIIIth century); Musée municipale d’Orange

do with a depiction based partly on a personal classical architectural imagination. It is possible that de la Pise saw the earlier treatise by Giuliano de Sangallo (c. 1452 – 1516). Sangallo was adept at interpreting Vitruvius and comparing remnants in the south of France, and one of the examples he focused on was the theatre at Orange (fig. 3).16 His methodology was the same for each theatre: He combined his sketches of monuments with the schema derived from Vitruvius’ Latin theatre description, and typically, he fitted the Vitruvius-based diagram to a sketch or plan of the theatre under study, forming the basis for his analysis of various theatres. Regardless of the influence, de la Pise’s account of the theatre is one of an intact monument. De la Pise’s textual and visual renderings become more questionable when one examines late eighteenth and early nineteenth century engravings (fig.s 4 and 5). The two show that at some point after the abandonment of the structure-as-theatre, the cavea is certainly overtaken by houses and transformed into a distinct urban living area. The depiction of the cavea-as-neighbourhood is more in keeping with Bouveyroy’s words and less-so with de la Pise’s rendering, and while it is possible that the engravers are imagining sections of their respective spaces, it is quite likely that they are reflecting the realities of their immediate surroundings.17 In yet another reference, F. Digonnet tells us that “… sur l’emplacement des gradins, une cinquantaine de masures se pressaient 16 Sangallo was not alone in the comparative tradition; I use him as an example among many. 17 See Poisson (1989).

26

Daniel Millette

Fig. 5. The Theatre at Orange – early nineteenth century – John-Claude Nattes (1765 – 1822); Musée municipale d’Orange

les unes contre les autres ; deux rues et deux impasses y donnaient accès”,18 which is well confirmed by the early nineteenth century Napoleonic cadastral plan (fig. 6).19 Within the survey, the cavea is sub-divided into dozens of lots, complete with a street running east-west along the front of what would have once been the pulpitum, or stage. The frons scaenae remains intact, as it is within the engravings (in both Bouveyroy’s and de la Pise’s texts). By the early nineteenth century then, it seems certain that the cavea had been dismantled during the period since its abandonment in the fourth or fifth centuries. While the scaenae stands as a reminder of a past theatre, the whole of what had constituted the physical cavea has visibly disappeared. What does remain (in terms of the cavea), however, is de la Pise’s highly imaginative rendering and subsequent researchers would look to the drawing as a starting point in their quests to understand and reconstitute the cavea. De la Pise’s drawing, like other 18 “Where the seats stood, fifty or so houses were pressed against each other; two streets and two dead ends gave access to them”. Quoted in Chatelain, 1980, 89. While I use Millin and others in my reading of the literature, I do not purport that they are the only references to the monument. They are, however, typical. 19 On the Napoleon Cadastre, see François Monnier “Cadastre” in Dictionnaire Napoléon (Paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard, 1987) 318 – 20.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

27

Fig. 6. Cadastre Napoléonien – Orange – Musée de la municipalié d’Orange

architectural illustrations of the same theatre, acted as a reference point within the collective imagination; his cavea “exists” from the moment the viewer glances at its depiction. The story of today’s theatre begins in 1807, with Aubin-Louis Millin’s travel writings.20 Millin was a well respected man, member of no less than nineteen learned societies and at least nine scientific academies, as well as being Professor of Antiquities. His book on the Midi describes urban areas and focuses primarily on classical monuments. For Orange, the entry is substantial and important.21 He initially outlines the streets and houses and then quickly moves to the triumphal arch and eventually the theatre. He certainly references de la Pise.22 He begins his theatre discussion with the “partie circulaire dans laquelle les siéges des spectateurs étoient établis”.23 Note that he uses past tense – “étoient établis” [had been established] – when he refers to the seats. This contrasts with his use of the present tense in the rest of his description. The 20 Aubin-Louis Millin Voyage dans les départemens du midi de la France – Tome II (Paris: l’Imprimerie Impériale, 1807). While I use Millin and others in my reading of the literature, I do not purport that they are the only references to the monument. They are, however, typical. 21 Millin devotes some 22 pages to Orange. 22 A direct reference is made in footnote 1, page 149. 23 Ibid., 148. [The circular section within which the spectator seats had been established].

28

Daniel Millette

Fig. 7. Millin’s Theatre at Orange – Millin, 1807, plate XXIV

implication is that the seats are no longer in situ. Two sentences later he writes: “Vitruve fait mention expresse de ce genre de construction”,24 creating a connection between Vitruvius’ words and the cavea design at Orange. The difficulty of course, is that all Roman theatres are “de ce genre” [of this type] because they all have, to some extent, semi-circular seating arrangements. At work here is a very basic mode of authentication – a circular one – whereby Vitruvius is appropriated in order to reinforce reconstruction drawings (fig. 7). The same drawing is well worth perusing. Note that Millin uses different lines to show cavea remnants, seating limits and so on. Note also the concentrically-drawn lines depicting the seats; the regularity of these lines renders a feel of accuracy and they will re-appear throughout future renditions of the cavea. What is especially impressive about the sketch is that Millin is able to draw it in spite of the approximately one hundred medieval houses covering the space!25 Obviously he is providing a hypothetical drawing based on his 24 Ibid., 149. [Vitruvius expresses construction of this type]. 25 The lower parts of the scaenae building are also occupied by boutiques and as well, the bâtiment de scène itself is used as a prison. That a prison occupies the bâtiment de scène is confirmed within the municipal archives; a municipal record entry of 1824, for example, states that “Le Conseil souligne que la prison qui est dans l’enceinte du Théâtre et dont l’installation est défectueuse devrait être au plus tôt transférée ailleurs”. [The Council

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

29

research and no-one should assume that it is a precise replication. And knowing that checking would have been physically limited by the houses, the reader must presume that Millin would have resorted to whatever texts that would have existed, in addition to terrain observation. However, the texts are limited and Millin only had two or three main architectural sources: de la Pise’s earlier work, Sangallo’s treatise (which Millin did not mention) and the theatre prescription contained within de architectura. Millin includes two of the references and they provide the reader with assurance that the depiction is accurate. Referencing Vitruvius’ Book V, any reader would have found it reassuring that Millin’s concentric lines “fit” the geometrically-bound model of de architectura.26 This in spite of the fact that Millin’s illustration does not, for example, provide a centre point that would offer the reader a partial opportunity to check the interpretation. In the end, Millin’s drawing is schematic at best. And like de la Pise’s earlier rendition, it remains for later scholars to study and register it within their imaginations.27 Just a few years after Millin’s work, another history appears. In his Histoire de la ville d’Orange et ses Antiquités 28 M. de Gasparin recalls in what bhas become a familiar way of authenticating descriptions of classical monuments, the writers29 and theatres30 of Antiquity. In what is about to become a cumulative knowledge-producing sequence, his text continues in de la Pise’s and Millin’s footsteps,31 summarizing the narratives of the two and offering his own plan of the theatre (fig. 8). His plan is remarkably similar to Millin’s illustration and its almost certain that he simply traced it and embellished some of the features. Note that in this drawing there are sections of the cavea that are drawn as dark outlines as if they are in place, with dotted lines continuing their trajectories presumably depicting hypothetical foundations and other lines that extend beyond the darker outlines. The whole certainly gives the impression of an accurate distinction between what is found on the ground and what is

26 27

28 29 30 31

underlines that the prison which is inside the theatre is defective and should be, as soon as possible, moved elsewhere]. See Raphaël Massé, Annales d’Orange (1950), 30. Vitruvius’ Latin theatre model is fully elaborated elsewhere; see Sear (1990). Towards the end of his Orange entry, Millin suggests that the houses and prison should be removed. He wrote: “Ce seroit rendre un service réel aux arts et à l’humanité , que de chercher un autre logement pour les prisonniers , et de détruire ces misérables masures , dont on dédommageroit facilement les propriétaires” (151). The suggestion to demolish the buildings would be recalled by his contemporaries; the reference to a “service to humanity” would be echoed by UNESCO a century later. De Gasparin, Histoire de la ville d’Orange et ses Antiquités (Orange: Joseph Bouchony Imprimeur, 1815). Ibid., 68. He mentions Strabo, for instance. Ibid., 73. The theatres at Delos, Syracuse, Sparta, Athens, and others are enumerated. De Gasparin references la Pise on pages 65 and 101; Millin is noted on page 102 in footnote 14.

30

Daniel Millette

Fig. 15. The Theatre of Orange – Western Section – Photo: author

assumed. Again, however, there are dozens of houses standing within the cavea. How does de Gasparin arrive at this particular rendition of the remnants? For one thing, he recalls the drawing of Millin and the latter’s use of an engraving by Maffei,32 noting that their renderings are erroneous in terms of interior proportions.33 It is odd that he signals the “error” because it is almost certain that he very directly extrapolated from Millin’s work. Considering the two diagrams, one is left to wonder if de Gasparin undertook to correct the proportion “errors” at all. He does not tell us. Regardless, de Gasparin’s chronicle is valuable in that it describes in detail the remains of the scaenae and 32 Maffei had provided an earlier account of the theatre in his Les Antiquités de France. 33 Ibid., 102.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

31

some of the foundations along the cavea slope. What is also significant is that with de Gasparin’s book, we have the formalizing of previous knowledge as “accurate”. The textual and visual accounts summarize the previous versions and add to them in what is the beginning of a cumulative process of knowledge production. It is perhaps partly for this reason that de Gasparin’s book remained as the texte-de-base for subsequent researchers; it was re-published as recently as 1988.34 The summarized histories provided by de Gasparin and especially his echoing of the call for the clearing of the site and the removal of the houses by Millin and many others, such as the Société Académique d’Orange, had a significant impact upon the physical outcome of the theatre. From the Annales d’Orange we see that in 1824 the municipal council is deliberating on whether or not it should allow for the continuation of the cearing of the theatre area”; obviously the work to had been underway for some time.35 Still in 1824, local legislation is enacted to provide funding for the “travaux coûteux de démolition, de déblaiement et de consolidation” [costly work, demolition, clearing and consolidation]36 as tons of earth are removed from around the one-hundred or so houses.37 In 1825, after pleas from academics and municipal officials, Les Monuments Historiques began substantial clearing work; local and state authorities continued to approve financial appropriations well into the 1830 s. Within the city’s archives we find interesting notes regarding some of the work and particularly relevant to the present research. Pierre Renaux, the architecte départementale, who was responsible for portions of the project,38 described the type, costs and location of the work. In his 1830 s papers, there is what appears to be a contract determining the tasks to be carried out by a sub-contractor.39 Before listing the work per se, he gives an impression of the importance of the clearing activity, noting that “tous les habitans d’Orange de tout age et de tout sèxe” [All of the inhabitants of Orange, of all ages and sexes] that want work will be hired.40 Obviously a significant undertaking is underway, with the double objective of uncovering the ruin and ultimately supplying the local museum 34 Ibid. 35 See Raphaël Massé Annales d’Orange (Orange, 1950), notice 43 Bis, 22 Septembre, 1824, 30. 36 Ibid., 31. Notice 43 Bis (footnote), 22 Septembre, 1824. 37 This information is contained in a footnote within another of the 1824 entries of the Annales d’Orange; the note reads: “N.B.– A cette époque, l’intérieur du Théâtre était couvert de maisons, une centaine…” 30. 38 P. Renaux is architecte de département de Vaucluse at least until 1841. 39 P. Renaux, “Déblaiements Au Théâtre Antique d’Orange” in Archives Municipales d’Orange, Manuscript M/N 217, 1830, p. 2 – 3. 40 Ibid., 1.

32

Daniel Millette

with artifacts.41 A summary estimate of costs is also provided and eight “conditions” are enumerated, ranging from the way by which the significant amount of debris is to be removed from the site, to the authority of the foreman. An important set of entries is contained within the 1832 notes. Within his instructions, Renaux remarks that “Les tailleurs de pierres et maçons employés” [The stone carvers and masons employed] are to re-work the large blocks – “les blocs antiques” – that are found amid the ruins. Further, he instructs that a certain wall should be restituted.42 And in referring to loose blocs, Renaux stipulates that “lorsque leur position aura été reconnue et constatée par l’architecte les blocs qui [gêneront] pour le travail seront enlevés et déposés dans l’endroit qui sera indiqué à l’entrepreneur”.43 Apparently blocs are being removed for repositioning at a later time. Renaux intends to re-place the stones and from at least this point onwards, the clearing work is inextricably linked to the notion of putting things “back in their place”. In this case, Renaux is referring to an area parallel to the frons scaenae and the scaenae wall itself. However, he is also supervising the work throughout the cavea and it is no leap to assume that the construction work is taking place wherever he deems it necessary. That masons are employed to do “archaeological” work begs the question: exactly what is being re-built in the cavea neighborhood? As part of the same manuscript, a single, un-numbered page provides Renaux’s vision of the theatre (fig. 9). The drawing page contains notes and is intended to accompany the instructions. From it we can see that the positioning of seats, stairs and so on has been more or less ascertained by Renaux. Recall, once again, that there remain dozens of houses in the space! The fig. can only be hypothetical. He probably undertook some research to complement his archaeological explorations, looking at what would have been available: Millin, de la Pise, de Gasparin, and Vitruvius would have been consulted. It is not certain which reference(s) he consulted; certain, however is that there is at least one feature on his sketch that is not contained within the earlier drawings. Scribbled along the upper part of the sketch is a label that says “Grande Gallerie Couverte” [large covered gallery]. If the others did not allude to the feature in their renderings, then where does Renaux get the impression that a large open gallery was built upon the upper cavea?44 One source that was certainly available to Renaux mentions a gallery in that section of the theatre: de architectura. 45 41 Ibid., 3. 42 Ibid., 1, 2. 43 Ibid., 2. [When their position has been recognized and defined by the architect, the blocks that are in the workers’ way will be removed and deposited in an area designated by the contractor]. 44 Remains were found at the top of the cavea; it is not clear, however, if a gallery had been part of the original design. 45 Vitr. V, 9.9.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

33

Fig. 9. The Theatre at Orange – Renaux, 1832 – Archives d’Orange – manuscript M/N 217

As with all of the information regarding the early work on the theatre at Orange, the full extent to which physical reconstruction is undertaken during the early part of the nineteenth century remains unclear. By the early nineteenth century, the only drawings generated by local erudites are either personal imaginaries such as la Pise’s illustration, or similarly imaginative interpretations based on Vitruvius’ theatre tenets, as with Renaux’s diagram. The earth removal and bloc replacement work accelerates in the 1830 s as some twenty-five houses are demolished within the cavea neighborhood.46 The Mayor secures a further 10,000 francs for the work in May of 183347 and the removal of thousands of cubic meters of earth attracts a great deal of attention to the city and especially its theatre. One of the important individuals drawn to the rediscovery of the theatre is Prosper Mérimée. In 1834 Mérimée was named successor to Vitet, the first inspecteur général des monuments historiques.48 This coincides with the publication of Mérimée’s travel book on the region, and the attention and authority that Mérimée gains ensures that his work becomes far-reaching within 46 Ibid., 1830 – 32. 47 Ibid., 38. Notice 62, 9 Mai, 1833. 48 Mérimée and Vitet maintained a long-lasting collaboration; the two worked together as late as the 1860 s within, for example, the editorial ranks of the Journal des Savants.

34

Daniel Millette

the archaeological and architectural circles of France.49 His theatre reflections are detailed, incorporating prior readings and observations. The research includes the work of many, including Renaux. He describes the ruins and he records that the frons scaenae is relatively intact.50 At the same time, he notes that the seats are poorly conserved and he highlights the progress in clearing debris, and the expropriation and removal of houses which is by then ongoing.51 He underscores that the remains that were thought to be beneath the same houses have suffered important degradations and thus hints that what he observes may not necessarily be in keeping with the representations of others. In other words, he seems surprised and offers no drawing to complement his commentary. One of the final passages in Mérimée’s entry echoes Millin and de Gasparin: “Si l’on ne s’empresse d’y faire de grandes réparations, la France ne possédera pas longtemps encore ce monument presque unique dans son espèce”.52 The book does not offer a reconstruction of the theatre. What it does do, however, is draw a great deal of attention to it. The four-volume book becomes a guide and reference manual for subsequent historians and architect-archaeologists of the region. As inspecteur general des monuments historiques and especially later as responsible des travaux, Mérimée would be a key proponent of the construction work at the theatre. Meanwhile, in a set of letters from the Sous-préfecture d’Orange to its mayor, the Sous-prefect acknowledges a 2,000 franc grant from the Musée d’Avignon for more earth-clearing work.53 In an 1847 municipal record, we see that gradually the houses continue to be removed from within and around the theatre.54 Two processes happen concurrently: as houses are expropriated and removed, so too are tons of earth. The result is what amounts to the re-shaping of the local topography according to the instructions of site foremen and the imagination of project architects. Where the latter get their inspiration is thus crucial and lies within the textual and illustrative works discussed above. At the same time, travel literature highlights the monument and its notoriety increases within a set of written accounts typically focusing on comparisons with like sites, allusion to classical writers, and some sort of textual or visual representation. The importance of the cavea takes precedence over medieval 49 50 51 52

Prosper Mérimée Notes d’un voyage dans le Midi de la France (Paris, 1835). Ibid., 114. Ibid., 112, 113. Ibid,. 113. [If we do not hurry to undertake major repairs, France may not possess for long, this monument that is almost unique in its class]. 53 Archives Municipales d’Orange – Manuscript Series M/N; letters dated January 30, 1838; March 13, 1838; April 23, 1838; may 11, 1838 and May 15(?), 1838. The letters acknowledge the receipt of the grant and also the eventual return of the sum to the Avignon museum. The reason for the return is not clear. 54 See Raphaël Massé Annales d’Orange (Orange, 1950), notice 110, 11 Juillet, 1847, 51.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

35

structures and as the small houses are removed, a reverse quarrying process happens whereby blocs and cobbles initially removed from the cavea to build the houses are kept for re-installation at a later date. Key is that the re-use of the stones and the subsequent topographic alterations are not necessarily part of a hap-hazard exercise; during Renaux’s time and beyond, the site supervisors “know” where specific elements should be located.55 And at the same time, the whimsical illustration of de la Pise and the geometrically regulated drawings of Millin and de Gasparin are used as buttresses, reinforcing and supporting a certain imaginary of the cavea.56

Auguste Caristie’s Theatre One of the early nineteenth century proponents of the excavation and consolidation work on the theatre at Orange was Auguste Caristie, a noted architect, having won the Grand Prix de Rome in 181357 and having been involved with the theatre at least since 1820.58 Caristie had spent time studying Roman monuments, producing measured drawings and a commentary on the archaeological excavations at the Roman Forum.59 By the time he inherited the Orange project as director of works in 1835, he had clear classical intentions. Through a close reading of his writings on the monuments of Orange, we get an appreciation for the magnitude of the work being carried out, as well as a feel for its interpretation.60 He begins the theatre section of his thesis with a discussion of classical theatres. He describes them and eventually provides a comparative study and analysis. As in Vitruvius’ book, authority is gained through the naming of examples and authorities. And as in Vitruvius’ book recourse to comparative examples can be useful in that they help bring similarities and anomalies to light. Difficulties arise, however, because the elements under comparison are 55 Renaux dies and is replaced by Constant Dufeu. 56 It is important to note that once the houses were removed, therewere ‘some’ cavea remains in-situ. The amount of remioans is unclear, given that what was there was modified. 57 See André Louis, “A Paper Conservancy” in La Revue (Paris: Musée des arts et des métiers, 1995), number 10, march, 25 – 29. 58 Auguste Caristie, Monuments Antiques Orange – Arc de Triomphe et Théâtre – Publiés sous les auspices de S. E. M. le Ministre de l’État (Paris: 1856). “En 1820, étant sur le toit de la maison qui était adossée à cette partie de l’édifice, il m’a été possible de mesurer et de dessiner cette corniche avec facilité”; he is studying the theatre in detail. Footnote 1. 59 See his Plan et Coupe d’une partie du Forum Romain et des monuments sur la voie sacré indiquant les fouilles qui ont été faites dans cette partie de Rome. Depuis l’an 1809 jusqu’en 1819 (Paris: Imprimerie Didot L’Ainé, 1830). 60 Ibid.

36

Daniel Millette

chosen by the narrator; the similarities and differences can be readily modulated, consciously and unconsciously, in order to render a desired version of reality With Caristie’s comparisons, it is especially difficult to assess how and why he selects certain details while omitting others. In his comparison with the theatre at Herculaneum, for instance, he writes that the two theatres share a number of similar features yet does not tell the reader what these are.61 The whole moves towards the eventual comparison of the Orange theatre with Vitruvius’ Latin and Greek theatre shemas. It is fundamentally important to stress that so broad are the tenets in De architectura that Vitruvius tells the reader that the design features should be made to suit the site. I stress this point because when an example is matched to the depiction in De architectura, it immediately becomes quite impossible to argue against it. Components always fit in terms of geometrical arrangement or spatial delimitation. So when in the same discussion Caristie states that Vitruvius’ prescription for the scaenae wall is aligned with the scaenae wall at Orange, the comparison is completely redundant. Except for one thing: The comparative narrative has the intrinsic quality of rendering a great deal of perceived erudition, authority, accuracy to the work. By the time Caristie has evoked the ancient texts, the list of classical authorities, the plethora of theatre examples located in remote areas, and of course, Vitruvius’ treatise, the reader becomes convinced of the value and plausibility of what is to follow. Once the introductory presentation is made, Caristie introduces his own drawings. Consider his engraving of the site (fig. 10). In his site plan are lot delineations, presumably outlining parcels still privately held (shaded), as well as areas that have been cleared (in lighter tone). The dominance of the dark lines suggest that they represent real, albeit ruined, theatre components. There is of course no way of checking Caristie’s portrayal of field remains. While he does mention that sections are missing, these are not readily identified and further, some of the lines may represent re-built walls.62 We simply do not know; regardless, the lines are at best traces of what would have been remaining masonry foundations. The cavea lines are regularized and compass-drawn. Very faint lines in the early plan presume what would otherwise be an uneven topography and a relatively non-existent architecture. It is useful to consider the latter drawing with two more simultaneously. We can see from a rendering of the theatre (entitled “État actuel”) that even decades later, only faint traces of the cavea remain (fig. 11). Assuming that his drawings are state-of-the-ruin portrayals, the leap from the field rendering and his own survey work to a restitution is dramatic (fig. 12). There is an upper portico akin to Renaux’s supposition and responding to Vitruvius’ instructions. There is an 61 Ibid., 81. 62 Ibid., 41 – 42.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

37

Fig. 10. Site Plan – Remains – Caristie, 1856, plate XXXIII

Fig. 11. Theatre Elevation – Remains – Caristie Manuscript – Musée d’Orange, 1856

38

Daniel Millette

Fig. 12. Caristie: Theatre Reconstruction – Caristie, 1856, plate XLV

outer porch situated to the north, and although archaeological remains and architectural scars point to a space having been there, there is no evidence for its construction as shown. And while there is evidence for a set of three seating levels, the connections between the cavea and the scaenae wall are invented; the presence of bedrock (which remains to this day) suggests that the seating as shown is erroneous. With the work of Caristie, we have the formalization of a hypothetical reconstruction of the theatre at Orange. As director of works from 1835 to 1856 and especially through his publication of detailed engravings and study, he convinces his readers that his rendition is that of a “real” monument. He pulls together the previous documentation of the theatre, examples from Antiquity, and Vitruvius’ tenets, all-the-while connecting the intricacies of his etchings to the vividness of the topoi residing within the imagination in order to achieve this implicit goal.

Accepting the Argument Present-day readers will think of Caristies’ book as just that – a book containing a hypothetical reconstruction. The publication, however, does not operate independently. Just after its completion, a man who has already been mentioned in relation to Mérimée and Les Monuments Historiques is working on a report of Caristie’s work; Ludovic Vitet, the first inspecteur général des monuments historiques has taken interest in the theatre.63 In a detailed report in the Journal

63 Recall that Mérimée had succeeded Vitet as inspecteur général des monuments historiques in 1834.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

39

des Savants Vitet completely endorses Caristie’s project and echoes his ideas, stressing the acceptance of the work.64 In a style that has by now become familiar, Vitet begins his report with a list of classical theatres, making the point that no other theatre is as important as that at Orange.65 If the reader of Vitet’s report has difficulty creating a mental image of the cavea at Orange, the examples will undoubtedly help to fill-in the gaps. Now that the theatre of Orange has been accepted within the grouping of other “great” classical theatres, its cavea “exists”; the hypothetical model provided by Caristie is merely its confirmation. Vitet is beginning to set the tone for an argument for physical reconstruction. But a further element of confidence is required to solidify the argument. After comparative discussions of some of the listed theatres, a detailed description of the remains, the recalling of a variety of authorities, Vitet evokes the de architectura in his discussion of stage machinery:66 … Vitruve lui-même a soin de nous détromper en indiquant quelle place occupaient ces machines et quel en était le nombre. Il y en avait trios en tout dans chaque théâtre …67

If the reader is not, by then, convinced that Caristie’s details should be accepted, the reference to some sort of duty to imagine helps: Vitet says that just as the imagination of children can work to transform baton-holding into an imaginary cavalry scene, so too can it – the imagination – accept the decor of the theatre. This is highly significant; there is a clear acknowledgement of the links between some of the components of the hypothetical solution of Caristie and the interpreter’s imagination. With this notion accepted, it becomes easy to persuade the reader that the reconstruction is indeed plausible. After the digression on the child’s imagination, Vitet writes: “”Est-il besoin d’insister plus longtemps pour démontrer à nos lecteurs en quelle estime il faut tenir et les magnifiques restes du théâtre d’Orange, et l’ouvrage de M. Caristie qui les

64 Archives Municipales d’Orange – Manuscript T. A. 20: Ludovic Vitet Compte rendu de l’ouvrage de M. Caristie sur les monuments d’Orange, 1859(a). This manuscript is almost identical to a section of a two-part journal article published in the same year in the Journal des Savants, June-July, 1859(b), p. 325 – 36 and 430 – 43; it is possible that the handwritten manuscript is not of Vitet’s hand and is a transcription of the article. While I here use the manuscript as reference, the words in the manuscript are the same as those of the article. 65 Ludovic Vitet, Compte rendu de l’ouvrage de M. Caristie sur les monuments d’Orange, (Orange: Archives Municipales d’Orange, 1859) 1. 66 Vivet (1861b) develops a similar argument Vitet. 67 Ibid., 10. [Vitruvius himself took care to indicate where the stage machines where located and how many there were. There were three in all in each theatre…]

40

Daniel Millette

Fig. 13. The Theatre of Orange – 1861 – Vitet, 1861, 305

reproduit si bien.”68 He then suggests that along with archaeological observation and historical and literary studies, more work of Caristie’s type has to be undertaken to better understand ruins.69 The report ends with a reference to Millin, who, you will recall, had whimsically described the cavea and first called for the removal of the hundred or so houses sited within. By Vitet’s time, most of the homes are gone – “[g]râce à une heureuse application du principe de l’expropriation [et de l’]inappréciable service rendu à la science …”70 and the cavea is now ready to be re-constituted. Reflecting his influence, Vitet’s Journal des Savants article is reprinted three years later in the Gazette des Beaux Arts’ first issue.71 The clean illustration he includes attests to the cavea’s transformation since the engravings of the earlier part of the century (fig. 13). A short time after Vitet drafted his report, another architect was working on the theatre and preparing another important study. Until then, the references to Vitruvius had been specific, although not dominant within the Orange literature. G. Legrand, however,72 takes on the design of the theatre and connects it, explicitly and directly, to De architectura.73 68 Ibid., 12. [Is it necessary to insist any longer to our readers as to the esteem which must hold the ruins of the theatre of Orange, and the work of M. Caristie who has reproduced these so well]. 69 Ibid., 12. 70 Ibid., 25. [thanks to the great application of the principle of expropriation and the great service rendered to the science]. 71 Vitet (1861a). 72 G. Legrand, Recherches sur la scène antique justifié par l’étude du théâtre d’Orange (Orange: undated manuscript). I base the post-Vitet/Caristie date on the fact that Legrand refers to

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

41

After the usual recalling of the ancients and a summario of the Latin theatre of Vitruvius, Legrand commends Caristie (14) and then writes this most significant passage: La disposition de la scène pendant la representation nous parrait avoir été peu étudiée jusqu’ici; les elements matériels de cette étude n’existent plus et les données que les auteurs anciens ont laissées à ce sujet, se réduisent à quelques phrases peu explicites du Vième livre de Vitruve, auxquelles les commentateurs ont, peut-être donné un peu trop d’élasticité. Pour ne pas nous laisser entrainer dans la même voie, veuillez, Messieurs, nous accompagner dans une excursion au théâtre d’Orange, pour faire ensemble, Vitruve à la main, l’application du texte au monument lui même.74

Thus Legrand proposes an excursion to the theatre of Orange with De architectura in hand. And with some 25 pages interspersed with dozens of links between the general tenets of Vitruvius – he provides a sketch of Vitruvius’ Latin theatre – and the specific features of the Orange monument, he concludes that “Le théâtre d’Orange est la pour justifier les conjectures du doute … [missing word in text] … du XVième siècle, et démontrer qu’il n’y a point d’erreur dans le texte de Vitruve”.75 So circular has the argument become that the theatre is now used to check De architectura’s tenets. On Caristie’s work, Legrand simply states that “Nous n’avons pas la témérité de vouloir décrire cette admirable ruine; c’est une tache qui vient d’être si fidèlement rempli par Caristie qu’il n’est désormais plus possible de rien ajouter à l’oeuvre consciencieuse de ce savant architecte” (14).76 To Legrand, the authority of Caristie is as solid as Vitruvius’ and there is nothing to add. When other architects such as Louis Rogniat, Paul Blondel and M. Daument,77

73 74

75 76 77

Vitet’s 1859 report (footnote a, 40) and to Caristie’s 1859 publication (footnote b, 14); they are the latest works he references. Ibid., 3. Legrand uses the 1673 and 1680 French translations by Perrault (footnote b). Ibid., 14. [The disposition of the scaenae during stage representations appears to have thus far been scarcely studied; the physical elements no longer existing, and the information that the ancients have left us having been reduced to what Vitruvius wrote in a few sentences in his Book V, which has sometimes been interpreted by commentators with too much latitude. So as to avoid the same pitfalls, sirs, accompany us on an excursion to the theatre of Orange, to together make, Vitruvius in hand, the application of the text to the monument itself ]. Ibid., 44. [The theatre of Orange is there to justify the conjectures of doubt … of the fifteen century, and to show that there are no points of error in the text of Vitruvius]. Ibid., 14. [We do not dare describe this admirable ruin; the task has so faithfully been accomplished by Caristie that it is no longer possible to add anything to the work of this brilliant architect]. Correspondence from Louis Rogniat to the Mayor of Lyon, dated January 23, 1883; Archives de Lyon document 4j4 wp25.

42

Daniel Millette

Fig. 14. The Theatre of Orange – 1860s – Album du Chemin de Fer de Lyon à la Méditérannée, 1860 s, pl. 12

undertake studies of the same monument, it is Caristie’s text and engravings that persist.78

Constructing the Theatre From 1877 to 1883, Daumet, architecte attaché à la Commission Supérieur des Monuments Historiques supervises substantial reconstruction work in the lower partitions of the western areas. As of 1882, the Formigés, father and son, take on the reconstruction project; the municipal government is keen on facilitating live spectacles within the space and the two architects hurriedly begin to rebuild the seats. The two lower sets of seats as well as many of their supporting structures are constructed79 and we can see some of the progress with a first horizontal section partly in place in an 1880’s engraving (fig. 14). In the earlier part of the twentieth century, the son, Jules Formigé, builds the eastern section of the corridor leading to the inner cavea as well as a variety of features belonging to the scaenae wall and other components. By the time Louis Chatelain writes his influential book for the Bibliothèque des Hautes Études in 1908,80 Caristie is fully accepted as the authority on Orange antiquities. His work now serves as model, and the physically reconstructed areas re-confirm his “theorized’ theatre. With the emphasis on ancient sources as 78 References to Caristie-as-authority persisted throughout the nineteenth century; see for example Saint-Saëns (1886). 79 Conseil d’Europe, Orange – Théâtre Antique – Analyses des Experts Européens (Conseil d’Europe, 1993). 80 Chatelain (1908).

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

43

authorities, Chatelain’s book continues with what by the early twentieth century has become a tradition of including references, not necessarily to support particular views or arguments, but to render a feel of authority to the narrative.81 And as with his nineteenth century predecessors, Chatelain reverts to most of the earlier studies,82 all-the-while devoting a complete chapter on the theatre with Caristie as his primary source. Chatelain’s theatre discussion is descriptive and comparative, looking at, for instance, the different dimensions given by the various previous researchers. Throughout his work, the implication is that this is the best preserved monument of its type. He writes: “Le théâtre d’Aspende, en Asie Mineure, est le seul qui soit à comparer avec celui d’Orange pour son excellente conservation.”83 Chatelain does not necessarily advance new perspectives, but he does hint at the extent to which the theatre is being constructed. In one passage, he notes: Il importe de signaler l’exactitude minutieuse de la restauration du monument… Caristie n’a employé que les pierres dont les carrières, encore exploitées, avaient été mises à contribution par les Romains. Telles furent les réparations exécutées sur les plans de Caristie. Elles permettent d’apprécier le talent dont a fait preuve cet architecte, sa vaste érudition archéologique, son respect de l’œuvre originale, et la longue ténacité avec laquelle, sans se laisser rebutter, il a surmonté des difficultés sans nombre …84

The passage is probably the first to clearly connect the reconstruction efforts to the drawings of Caristie. The fact that the builders employ stones from the same quarries as those used by the Romans seems to make the reconstruction more “Roman”. The whole of Chatelain’s argument in favor of the Caristie restitution is extremely circular, at first stating that Caristie’s drawings are used as guides for the reconstruction, then inferring that the rebuilt monument reflects the original one; the only record of the “original” one is the hypothetically drawn model by Caristie in the first place. Near the end of the chapter, Chatelain presents a comparison between modern theatres and theatres of Antiquity. For

81 Ibid., 3 – 6. 82 Among others not included in this discussion, de Gasparin is footnoted throughout, la Pise is referenced on p. 119, Mérimée on p. 90, 91 and 96, and Renaux on p. 92. Caristie is evoked throughout the book. 83 Ibid., 98 [The theatre at Aspendos, in Asia Minor, is the only one that can compare to that at Orange for its excellent conservation]. 84 Ibid., 94. [It is important to signal the precissenes of the restauration of this monument; Caristie employed only the stones from the quarries, still exploited, that had been used by the Romans. Such were the repairs undertaken following the plans of Caristie. It allows us to appreciate the talent of this architect, his vast archaeological knowledge, his respect for the original work, and his longstanding tenacity through which he surmounted many difficulties …].

44

Daniel Millette

the Antiquity discussion, the example is the theatre of Orange, complete with references to the textual authority: the De architectura. As Vitet, Daumet, Chatelain and others are studying and writing about the monument, the Formigés continue with their building activities. Jules Formigé publishes a number of related articles,85 as well as a comprehensive research paper on the theatres at Arles and Orange.86 The 65 page report is detailed and combines a plethora of references to Vitruvius with details of classical theatres to provide hypotheses for the missing architectural components of the theatre at Orange. Using this methodology, Formigé confirms most of Caristie’s postulated model and fills-in some of the missing details. Note that he often reverts to the theatre at Arles for comparative discussion and to “explain” his proposal rationales; the two to him share unique features. This no doubt has something to do with the fact that he is also in charge of the ongoing reconstruction of Arles’ theatre. Formigé begins his cavea section with an evocative comment. He writes: “Il y a lieu de remarquer qu’on ne trouve en aucun cas une parfaite application des tracés donnés par Vitruve : le demi-cercle n’est jamais exact. Quelquefois il est légèrement incomplet: à Arles et à Orange, il dépasse un peu la demicircomférence, en fer à cheval, comme dans les théâtres grecs …”.87 Is it possible that Formigé realizes that the re-construction is not akin to Vitruvius’ tenets? He does not explicitly say so. When he gets to the seats and their dimensions, he immediately reverts to Vitruvius and tells the reader that Orange’s theatre is within the latter’s averages. Within the same passages, it is interesting that when Formigé does not turn to Vitruvius, he uses examples of other classical theatres, close ones like that at Arles, or distant ones like at Pompeii and so on. It is a matter of finding what ‘fits’ his narrative and the reconstructed theatre. No comment is offered in his pages that is not supported by either Vitruvius or an example and in the end, the reader simply cannot argue, for or against, the reconstruction theoretic of Formigé. The construction and consolidation work continues well into the 1950 s and 1960 s, when the inner passageways underneath the cavea seats are rebuilt due to construction problems arising from the workmanship of the earlier part of the twentieth century. In the end, the cavea is very much like that of Vitruvius’. The problem, and perhaps this is what Formigé was alluding to in his 85 Jules Formigé publishes a set of articles related to the monuments of Orange in the Bulletin des Antiquaires de France (1924, 1925, 1926, 1927, and 1929) and L’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres (1914, 1916, 1917, and 1933). 86 Formigé (1914). 87 Ibid., 6 – 7. [It is noteworthy that we find no example that fits perfectly the tenets of Vitruvius: the semi-circle is never exact. At times it is slightly incomplete; at Arles and Orange, it surpasses the circumference, as in a horseshoe, as with Greek theatre].

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

45

early comment, is that the new cavea does not fit the architecture of the scaenae building. Figure 15 highlights the connection point between the seats and versurae along the western section. The seating clearly does not align architectural realities of this visible section and the re-builders never completed the work. It would seem then, that the nineteenth and twentieth century designers left out an important detail when re-presenting the cavea. Equally interesting is that Vitruvius is silent regarding the connection points and angles. Through a cumulative set of depictions – textual, visual and imaginative – a monumental ensemble inscribed onto the World Heritage List, and of universal value, protected for the benefit of humanity, has been constructed. With earthclearing, the re-shaping of the terrain took place, with the demolishing of houses, blocks and cobbles were safeguarded for re-installation, and with public support, the expropriation of houses was facilitated. Throughout, the referencing of a variety of drawings that go back to the imaginary classical theatre of de la Pise and perhaps Sangallo ensured that the builders worked towards a particular plan, a plan not necessarily drawn according to some original design, but traced from the instructions borne out of the classical architectural imaginations of individuals far removed from Antiquity. The whole, of course, was fuelled at each stage by increasing and inextricably woven references to de architectura, whose broad instructions permitted a circular mode of authentication that provided “proof ” for the schemas. Filling-in the gaps between topographic features and architectural entities, however, clearly does not result in an accurate reconstruction; it results in a new design that smoothes away sets of details related to, in this case, first century A.D. (and perhaps earlier) culture, craft and site. The design becomes topographically idyllic, geometrically corrected and architecturally adjusted. In this case, it is not surprising that the reconstruction by Caristie is akin to Vitruvius’ tenets; the former spent a great deal of time studying the latter and justifying the authoritative nature of de architectura before presenting the reconstruction and connecting it to the older treatise. The illustrations provided by his predecessors – those he accessed as he carried out his research – can be traced in part to de la Pise’s drawing and description. And the corrections that he imposed on his theatre can be traced back to Vitruvius’ Book V.

Conclusion In France, classical monuments formed part of the restoration debate. The ideas of Viollet-le-Duc prevailed as architects from Les Monuments Historiques generated drawings, and as archaeologists produced knowledge directly connected to Rome and Vitruvius. This was the case in Orange, where each new architect, archaeologist or researcher looked to predecessors and to

46

Daniel Millette

Vitruvius in presenting the same monument. Almost all of the learned proposals of the reconstructed theatre included consideration for Vitruvius’ theatre prescriptions; a closer look at the immediate terrain would have revealed that the proposals were not necessarily adequate. The official sanctioning of the site as “historically valuable” added to the authenticating process, with the whole mediated through modes of authentication involving cumulative studies of specific monuments, textual references and imaginative drawings. With the study of classical monuments, the tendency is still to revert to comparative studies and to the authoritative textual references of de architectura. Classical archaeology has, and continues to, direct its attention to clearing, consolidating, and eventually, reconstructing. The latter efforts somehow leave one with the impression and assurance that what is observed and preserved is genuine. In the end, the monument serves as confirmation for the textual reconstruction, and the text re-confirms the monument in a completely circular mode of authentication. Throughout, de architectura is mined for any hint, most often non-specific and highly generalized, of like features that might correspond to the monument under study. Through the proof that all of these provide, de architectura takes on further authoritative weight. The more the ruined monument is studied, the more Vitruvius is quoted. The result of this particular knowledge production is a set of architectural constructions that are at best, Vitruvius-based, and not site or reality based.

References Archives Municipales d’Orange – Manuscript Series M/N; letters dated January 30, 1838; March 13, 1838; April 23, 1838; may 11, 1838 and May 15(?), 1838. Bellet, Michel-Édouart, Orange antique – Monuments et musée, Paris 1991. Bouveyroy, Jean, “Discours des entiquitéz de la ville dorange,” in Archives Municipales d’Orange Z 1174 (August 24, 1649). Caristie, Auguste, Monuments Antiques Orange – Arc de Triomphe et Théâtre – Publiés sous les auspices de S. E. M. le Ministre de l’État (Paris: 1856). Chatelain, Louis, “Les Monuments Romains d’Orange,” in Bibliothèque de l’École des Hautes Études 170 (1908). Conseil d’Europe, Orange – Théâtre Antique – Analyses des Experts Européens (Conseil d’Europe, 1993). De Gasparin, Histoire de la ville d’Orange et ses Antiquités (Orange: Joseph Bouchony Imprimeur, 1815). De la Pise, Joseph, Tableau de l’histoire des Princes et Principauté d’Orange Divisé en quatre parties selon les quatre races qui ont regné souverainement depuis l’an 793. Commençant a Gvillavme av Cornet Premier Prince d’Orange. Jusques a Frederish Henry de Nassau à prefent Regnant (La Haye: De l’Imprimerie de Théodore Maire, 1640). Formigé, Jules, Remarques diverses sur les théâtres Romains à propos de ceux d’Arles et d’Orange, Paris 1914.

Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture

47

Formigé, Jules, “Les monuments d’Orange”, in Bulletin des Antiquaires de France (1924, 1925, 1926, 1927, and 1929). Formigé, Jules, “Les monuments d’Orange”, in L’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres (1914, 1916, 1917, and 1933). Gros, Pierre, L’Architecture romaine – Les monuments publics (Paris 2002). Janon, N., M. Janon, M. Kilmer, “Les frises d’Orange: le pouvoir mis en scène”, in: Spectacula – II. Le théâtre et ses Spectacles – Actes du colloque tenu au Musée Archéologique Henri Prades de Lattes les 27, 28, 29 et 30 avril 1989, hg. v. C. Landes (Lattes 1992), 149 – 162. Legrand, G., Recherches sur la scène antique justifié par l’étude du théâtre d’Orange (Orange: undated manuscript). Louis, André, “A Paper Conservancy” in La Revue (Paris: Musée des arts et des métiers, 1995), number 10, march, 25 – 29. Massé, Raphaël, Annales d’Orange (1950). Mérimée, Prsoper, Notes d’un voyage dans le Midi de la France (Paris, 1835 Millette, Daniel M., “The Prix de Rome – Three Centuries in the Eternal City”, in: The Prix de Rome in Architecture: A Retrospective, ed. Marco Polo, Toronto 2006. Millette, Daniel, M. “Vitruvius and the Re-Invention of Classical Theatre Architecture”. Vitruvianismus; Ursprünge und Transformationen – Vitruvianism; Its Origins and Transformations Conference. Humbolt University. Berlin. July, 2011. Millin, Aubin-Louis, Voyage dans les départemens du midi de la France – Tome II (Paris: l’Imprimerie Impériale, 1807). Milner, P. “Further studies of the Roman theatre at Orange – A progress report for Dr. M. Woehl,” Technology Note, no. TN-00/1 (2000). Monnier, François, “Cadastre” in Dictionnaire Napoléon (Paris: Librairie Arthème Fayard, 1987). Rosso, Emmanuelle, “Le message religieux des statues divines et impériales dans les théâtres romains : approche contextuelle et typologique” in Fronts de scène et lieux de culte dans le théâtre antique, ed. J. Ch. Moretti (Lyon 2009), 89 – 126 Poisson, Olivier, “Le dégagement et la restauration des théâtres antiques d’Orange et d’Arles au début du XIXe siècle”, in: Le Gout du Théâtre à Rome et en Gaule Romaine, hg. v. Christian Landes, Lattes 1989, 82 – 90. Renaux, P., “Déblaiements Au Théâtre Antique d’Orange” in Archives Municipales d’Orange, Manuscript M/N 217, 1830, p. 2 – 3. Rigord, Agis, “Bibliographie sur Orange et ses Monuments” in: Bulletin des Amis d’Orange 5/18 (1964), 36 – 46. Rogniat, Louis, Corespondance to the Mayor of Lyon, dated January 23, 1883; Archives de Lyon document 4j4 wp25. Saint-Saëns, Camille, Décors de Théâtre Dans l’Antiquité Romaine, Paris1886, PDF eBook 2012. Sear, Frank Bowman, “Vitruvius and Roman Theatre Design,” in: American Journal of Archaeology 94 (1990), 249 – 258. Sear, Frank Bowman, Roman Theatres – An Architectural Study, Oxford 2006. Vitet, Ludovic, Archives Municipales d’Orange – Manuscript T. A. 20: Ludovic Vitet Compte rendu de l’ouvrage de M. Caristie sur les monuments d’Orange, 1859(a). Vitet, Ludovic, Journal des Savants, June-July, 1859(b), p. 325 – 36 and 430 – 43; Vitet, Ludovic, “Monuments antiques de la Ville d’Orange”, in: Gazette des Beaux Arts 1. Ser., 11/4 (1861a), 297 – 310. Vitet, Ludovic, “De quelques moulages d’après l’antique exposés à l’école des BeauxArts,” in: Journal des Savants 3. Ser. 26/6 (juin 1861), 376 – 386.

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics Giovanni Di Pasquale Introduction When Vitruvius wrote his treatise On architecture it was the end of the 1st century B.C. The school of mechanics of Alexandria, since the beginning of the 3rd century B.C., had already separated architectural knowledge from mechanics: subsequently, in the Hellenistic world the civil architect and the expert in mechanics were considered two different and separated professions. Vitruvius’s De architectura testifies to a new situation originating in the Roman world, an epoch of such impressive building projects that the architect must be capable of mastering both aedificatio and machinatio: in the middle, between aedificatio and machinatio Vitruvius puts gnomonice, astronomy, whose knowledge plays an important role in the architect’s education. As a direct consequence, to the list of matters he has claimed to be ready to discuss at the beginning of the work (Vitr. IX, 1,3,1),1 at the end of the eight book Vitruvius starts talking about the construction of sundials, water clocks and astronomy in general.2 Vitruvius’s description of the universe reveals an evident mechanical sensibility, allowing the visualisation of a machine:3 By the world is meant the whole system of nature together with the firmament and its stars. This continually turns round the earth and sea on the extreme points of its axis, for in those points the natural power is so contrived that they must be considered as centers, one above the earth and sea at the extremity of the heavens by 1 2

3

Astronomy instructs an architect in the points of the heavens, the laws of the celestial bodies, the equinoxes, solstices, and courses of the stars; all of which should be well understood in the construction and proportions of clocks. The same relationship between architecture and astronomy will be found in Galen too (Galen, De cuiusque animi, K 5, 68), who states that the architect must be aware of katagraphaì, the marking of hour lines in water clocks and sundials, and must be capable of designing buildings that admit or keep out the sun light according to local or seasonal needs. A description of the Universe with the sphere of the stars and all the planets inside was common in antiquity (Aristot. caelo, 1, 10, 280 a; Ps. Aristot., de mundo, 391b; Cic.,. nat., 2, 38; Manil., 1, 139 ff. ; Plin.nat., 2, 2).

50

Giovanni Di Pasquale

the north stars, the other opposite and below the earth towards the south; moreover in these central points as round the centers of wheels, which the Greeks call pºkoi, the heavens perpetually revolve. Thus the earth and sea occupy the central space (Vitr. IX, 1, 2 – 3).

The material axis, without movement, goes throughout the boundaries of the sphere of the universe and divides the globe into two parts; the motionless earth occupies the centre of the universe maintaining the same distance from the northern and southern poloi, the poloi looking like wheels or rings.4 Before Vitruvius wrote his book on architecture, metaphors from the technical world had long been introduced; the pre-Socratic philosophers had already discovered images in the artisans’ workshops in order to make the discussion about the origin and mechanical system of the Universe easier.5 As a matter of fact, astronomers and philosophers were trying to establish a material order within the sky, which was not only considered divine but also mechanical; if the circular movement was interpreted as the main proof concerning the divine nature of heavens and celestial bodies, then tools, devices and machines were to be the objects capable of repeating the same movement, becoming the perfect metaphor to visualise both the image and system of the universe.6 As a matter of fact, the rotation of the planets had brought to comparisons with the wheel and the potter wheel (the same comparison is found in Vitruvius too);7 the material nature of the heaven had been compared to glass and crystal technology, whereas ancient philosophers had believed into discovering all the possible movements of the celestial sphere in the spin,8 one of the most popular images explaining the mechanism which gives origin to the Universe. A perfect mechanical picture of the heavens was made by Anaximander, who had presented the motion of the planets as similar to “chariot wheels of various sizes that have hollow rims containing fire that is visible through various orifices”.9 4 5 6

7 8 9

The axis of the universe is already described in Arat. (21 ff.) and his translators, Cicero and Germanicus (Cic. Arat. 296 ff.; Germanicus 19 and ff.), Manil. 1, 275 ff. and Ov. fast., 4, 179. Mondolfo (1982), 35 – 50. To perceive the presence of symmetry and harmony in the universe, we must consider the knowledge of Pythagoras philosophy too: above all, the conviction about the presence of music in the movement of planets (Plat. leg. 967 a). In Plato’s view, the extraordinary intelligence of planets originates their perennial perfect movement. Vitruvius quotes the potter wheel, already in Aratus and in the Cicero’s translation, and in the De mundo by Ps.-Aristot. Arat., Phaenomena, v. 529 ff.; Cic. Arat. 302 e ff.; Ps.Aristot. De mundo 391 b. Aet. III, 13. Anaximander discusses the spin and the wheel, being inspired from the observation of natural phenomena (Aristot. caelo 295 a) such as water and wind vortices. Moreover, he

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics

51

Anaximander was also credited with the construction of a “globe representing the universe”.10 In Plato’s Timaeus the Demiurgos plays a fundamental role in building the universe with all the available material; moreover, to explain the system of the universe, Timaeus himself says that his explanation of the motion of the celestial bodies would get much help from the support of a mechanical model.11 Aristotle too, in order to correct and change the system of the universe described by Eudoxus and Callippus, introduces a number of material spheres meant to shape a mechanical cosmos.12 While talking about the universe from the point of view of atomistic philosophy, Lucretius describes the circular movement of the stars rotating all around a giant wheel moved from behind by the wind “just like we see water streams move the paddles of water wheels”, a well known mechanism. These images had brought into the philosophical discussion the power of metaphors dealing with instruments, devices and mechanisms teaching to consider the analogy between a working model and the mechanism of nature. This is a very interesting attempt to explain what these philosophers saw in the sky, to make unfamiliar things become more comprehensible. To be taken reliably, the model must be comprehensible and expressible in the language of astronomy, that is geometry and mechanics concerning its working, and architecture regarding its fabrication.

The Fabrication of the Universe Vitruvius’s description of the universe contains an impressive reference to its material structure and fabrication. In fact, when saying that naturalis potestas ita architectata (IX, 1, 2), Vitruvius is talking of nature as a master architect; this very interesting image was not a novelty, since in the De rerum natura Lucretius had already defined nature as natura daedala rerum (V, 228 e ss.), thus

describes sun, moon, and stars introducing the images of rings just like in a armillary sphere., Anaximander had introduced a principle of symmetry when he stated that the earth rested in the centre of the cosmos and constructed his picture of the universe through fixed, precise proportions, as in architectural techniques. Another pre Socratic philosopher, Anaxymenes (Anaximen. 11, A 21, B4), had derived his own idea of the sky from glass technology (Anaximen. 14) and the same can be found in Empedocles (Anaximen. 51), who explains the motionless stationary earth thanks to the analogy with a vessel filled with water, rotating so fast that water cannot flow out (Anaximen. 67). 10 Kahn (1960), 86 – 89. 11 Shank (2007). 12 Aristot. metaph. 1073 b.

52

Giovanni Di Pasquale

explaining the building of the universe from the point of view of atomistic philosophy.13 The image of nature operating like an architect fits perfectly the atomistic view of the universe made of atoms (atoms are like bricks) and empty spaces, that is the basic language of architecture. Different in shape and dimension, the atoms were, in Vitruvius’s mind, the key to explain the presence of the primary elements giving cohesion to building materials (Vitr. II, 1). Thus, words like architectata and daedala rerum do imply the same concept, that is to say a similar way of working in nature, among architects and experts of mechanics: the basic knowledge of their profession must be found in the building rules within the meaning of the Greek verb daidallo, “to put things together”, “to build something putting the elements together in a rational way”. This concept is strictly related to the key idea of symmetry in the sense of the Greek word symmetros (sym-metros), “to measure together” (latin commodulatio), whose meaning is to find a key measure and to build according to the rules of proportional enlargements. To better explain this key concept, Vitruvius invites the reader to consider the proportions among the elements of the human body,14 an idea already seen in the very famous statue representing a Young man carrying a lance, made by the sculptor Polycleitus who had discussed the well-adjusted proportions among the parts of the whole to one another and to the entire body with a standard for comparison.15 Moreover, Polycleitus had been among the earliest writers to 13 Moreover, Vitruvius shares with the atomistic philosophy the idea of primary elements creating cohesion in building materials, just like the atoms did (Vitr. 2, 1). Concerning Democritus philosophy and architecture see De Santillana (1966), 152. 14 Vitr. I, 2, 3 – 4: Item symmetria est ex ipsius operis membris conveniens consensus ex partibusque separatis, ad universae figurae speciem, ratae partis responsus. Uti in hominis corpore, e cubito, pede, palmo, digito, ceterisque particulis symmetros est eurhytmiae qualitas, sic est in operum perfectionibus. “Proportion is that agreeable harmony between the several parts of a building, which is the result of a just and regular agreement of them with each other; the height to the width, this to the length, and each of these to the whole. Uniformity is the parity of the parts to one another; each corresponding with its opposite, as in the human figure. The arms, feet, hands, fingers, are similar to, and symmetrical with, one another; so should the respective parts of a building correspond. 15 Centuries later Galen (Gal., 1, hg. v. Kuhn 1821 – 1833, 566) will discuss the theory of the four humours in the human body and, to remind the reader the standard size of the human being refers to the sculptor Polyclitus. “Modellers and sculptors and painters … paint or model beautiful figures by observing an ideal form in each case, that is, whatever form is most beautiful in man or in the horse or in the cow or in the lion, always looking for the mean within each genus. And a certain statue might also be commended, the one called the ,Canon’ of Polyclitus; it got such a name from having precise symmetry of all the parts to one another”.

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics

53

concern himself with rhythm and harmony and his applied procedures were fundamentally the same as the architects did.16 With the homo bene figuratus Vitruvius is unifying the language of architecture and sculpture. Moreover, his attempt underlines the centrality of the idea of symmetry in order to have a universal technical language with a strong rational theoretical base. In fact, the same concept can be found in Vitruvius’s description of the fabrication of machines too. With regard to the design of war machines he says: “I will set forth the construction of catapults and ballistae with the symmetries on which they are based” (Vitr. X, 10,1). For many centuries a way of working based on measurements and geometry was developed and perfected, becoming the basic knowledge for the practice of science of generations and generations of artists, practitioners, architects and mechanical workers, and the technical language to unify the fabrication of buildings, works of art and machines was developed as well. A set of simple technical instruments was needed: length units, plumb lines, compasses, squares. A reliable confirmation for the existence of such a universal language of building derives from two inscriptions, discovered in Asia and Egypt. The first one is on one side of a sarcophagus from Hierapolis, Phrygia, showing the image of a very interesting mechanical device (3rd century A.D.), a water mill stone cutter: the words refer to the work of a man, “Aur. Ammianos, expert like Daedalus in the fabrication of technical devices”.17 The second epigraph, from Hermopolis in Egypt, is about the activity of the architect Harpalos (3rd century A.D., polytechnótaton daidalês sofíes), that is to say “very expert in technology thank to his knowledge, similar to that of Daedalus”.18 Both, the architect and the expert in the fabrication of hydraulic machines, communicate their knowledge to the reader by introducing a very precise reference to Daedalus and the related verb daidallo.

16 He based his measurement system on the smallest body part; other body parts were then reproduced in relation to the whole. With the “homo bene figuratus” Vitr. (III, 1) idea of architecture becomes the same as Polyclitus already did in sculpture. Raven (1951), 148 – 162. According to Raven, Pythagoras philosophy is the meeting point among Polyclitus, Vitruvius and Galen: Galen stated that symmetry is the keyword to get beauty and wealth. Raven’s idea is that Philolaos was the common source, being the one among the Pythagoreans who wrote books. In any case, it’s evident the analogy concerning the language of physicians and architects, a relationship already seen in Alexandria and involving the work of Philo of Byzantium and Andreas of Chariste, a mechanical worker and a physician. See also Pollitt (1974). 17 Galli (2009), 29 – 36, fig. 8 – 9. 18 Corpus Inscriptionum Graecarum (CIG) 3, 4286.

54

Giovanni Di Pasquale

As a consequence, by saying that the machine of the universe was “architectata”, Vitruvius brings throughout the heavens the basic knowledge of generations and generations of technicians. In Vitruvius’s opinion, skilled artisans and practitioners share the same mechanical language: as a matter of fact, technical skill and nature are both capable of wonderful things; fabricated thanks to a perfect fitting of the building materials, the machine of the universe will last forever and will never change through times.19 When fabricated following the rules of symmetry, though dynamic in its structure, the machine maintains equilibrium, proportion and harmony.20 With the image of the world as a perfect machine, the belief in a superior Creator became a logical necessity. At the beginning of the 8th book Vitruvius talks about the existence of a divina mens, the superior author of the universe.21 Not by chance, God is a divine artisan and the architect becomes, as a consequence, a superhuman creature capable of mastering both, theory and practice of building (fabrica et ratiocinatio).22 It is sufficient to consider, for example, Vitruvius’s description of the architect Deinocrates, who looks like a godhead.23

19 Even if in the atomistic philosophy the destiny of the world is to collapse, the total number of atoms in the universe remains the same and new worlds will reborn again in an endless cycle. 20 When buildings and machines have been done without obeying to the fundamental theoretical and practical laws, then their fate is to collapse: Seneca (3, 27 e ff.) imagines a dramatic flood destroying everything and in Lucan (7, 134 ff.) the order of the universe is collapsing (sidera sideribus concurrent,), stars are falling down (ignea pontum astra petent) and the whole machine of the universe too (et tota discors machina divolsi turbabit foedera mundi, 1, 79 e ff.). Not by chance, this universe was not made by a divine architect, but must be seen as the casual result of atoms collision and their conjunction. 21 Vitruvius is here depending on the knowledge of Posidonius and Cicero: moreover, at the same time of the De architectura Manilius was expressing the stoic opinion about a ratio quae cuncta gubernat (Vitr. VI, 1 11; IX, 1, 1; IX, 5,4). Manil. II, 82 and II, 60 and ff., IV, 866 e ff. 22 Gatti Perer/Rovetta (1996), 492; according to the editors of the volume, in Vitruvius’ mind the architect profession is an intellectual machine allowing the good use of tools and devices. 23 Deinocrates (fl. mid-IV century B.C.), Hellenistic architect and supposedly the designer of the city of Alexandria, laid out on the most lavish lines. He was reported by Vitruvius to have proposed reconstructing Mount Athos into a gigantic carved image of Alexander the Great. He may have been (with Paeonius) the architect of the last great Ionic temple of Artemis at Ephesus (from 356 BC). The story of Deinocrates was told by Vitr. in II,1,4. At the beginning of the second book Vitruvius talks about Deinocrates, the architect who had shown at Alexander the great an impressive project to change the aspect of Athos mountain: a very innovative idea, relying on the construction of a fortified wall and an advanced water supply and circulation system. Deinocrates ideas were to become clear through a model: the city upon the left hand and the water

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics

55

Machines and Universe At the beginning of the last book Vitruvius explains where the meeting point between mechanics and astronomy is to be found. Depending on the lever and the properties of the circular movement, machines working brings on earth the wonderful circular movement of the heavens:24 The laws of mechanics are founded on those of nature, and are illustrated by studying the master-movements of the universe itself. For if we consider the sun, the moon and the five planets, we shall perceive, that if they were not duly poised in their orbits, we should neither have light on the earth, nor heat to mature its fruits. Our ancestors reasoned so on these motions, that they adopted nature as their model; and, led to an imitation of the divine institutions, invented machines necessary for the purposes of life. That these might be suitable to their different purposes, some were constructed with wheels, and were called machines; others were denominated organs. (Vitr. X, 1, 4).

This passage fits very well with the general definition of machine Vitruvius had already presented at the beginning of the same book:”A machine is a combination of materials capable of moving great weights. It derives its power from that circular application of motion which the Greeks call jujkijµ j¸mgsir.” Pythagoras, Plato and Aristotle already stated that the circular movement needs a spherical shape, Cicero said that the movement of planets and fixed stars depends on the rotation of the spherical heaven, 25 and the same concept is in Vitruvius who talks of caeli rotunditas. 26 Vitruvius opinion is that humanity learned the fundamental circular movement by direct observation of the path of the heavenly bodies across the sky: another confirmation of this relationship can be seen in the organization of the chapters of the book, architecture, astronomy and mechanics,27 which is like saying that looking at the heavenly bodies the architect understands the working of the universe and the basic laws of mechanics. Another proof of the relationship between architecture, astronomy and mechanics is to be found in Vitruvius’s opinion about progress.28 Fire, (pyr 24 25 26 27

28

circulation system uponthe right one. , Alexander idea was to allow Deinocrates to build the new town of Alexandria in Egypt. Vitr. X, 1, 4 – 6. Cic. nat. deor. II, 49. Vitr. IX, 1, 3. Archimedes, one of the founders of mechanics, was the son of an astronomer, being himself astronomer, geometer and mechanical worker. Another interesting analogy can be found in the presence of common words in astronomy and mechanics: terms such as ara, aries, chele, iugum, libra, plaustrum, scorpio, sucula have a double meaning. Vitr. II, 1; Lucr. V, 1011; 1091 e ff. The idea of the relationship between Vitruvius and Lucretius is in Romano (1987), 111. Moreover, it’s possible to see the influence of Democritus too, who stressed the technical ability of humans to develop a good level of civilization.

56

Giovanni Di Pasquale

Fig. 1. Naples, Archaeological Museum. Mosaic from Pompeii (1st century A.D.) representing Plato and other astronomers talking about astronomy (Galluzzi 2009, 74)

pántechnon, like in Heraclitus), is the base to a number of fundamental new techniques which were going to introduce a new epoch characterized by buildings and mechanical devices such as the loom, the plough, wine and olive oil presses, equal arms balances and steel yards. While using these machines his maker reproduces natural phenomena the architect can understand.29 Being the model and reference to every technique, nature itself is machinata, that is to say “ruled by mechanical laws”.30 The same concept had already been expressed by Aristotle (Physics, 2,2, 194a, 22) and Cicero (Leges, 1,26: artes innumerabiles vero repertae sunt, docente natura…), but what is different and original in Vitruvius is the idea of a celestial guide in such imitation.

29 Vitr. IX, 1, 2. The description of the steam engine (Vitr. I, 6, 2) is another case study: far from being an astonishing object as it will be a few years later in Hero of Alexandria (Heron II, 11), Vitruvius steam engine is a device to understand the wind direction. 30 Vitr. X, 1, 4 – 6.

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics

57

Fig. 2. Paris, Kugel Collection, celestial globe with constellations and heavenly circles (2nd century B.C .) (Arte e Dossier n8 255, 2009, 74)

Vitruvius Mechanical concept of the Universe: Devices and the Mechanism From a general point of view, in Vitruvius’s astronomical knowledge wrong theories (concepts already considered to be wrong in the 1st century B.C.) stay together with surprisingly accurate information, for example the precise description of the Moon phases, the oldest description of the Heraclides Ponticus system of the universe with Mercury and Venus rotating around the Sun and, all together with the other planets, around the stationary earth; moreover, when describing the position of some constellations in the northern hemisphere Vitruvius is so precise that we must admit he is not following the very popular tradition deriving from Aratus, but Hypparchus’s stars catalogue. As a consequence, many scholars had to conclude that it is really hard to discover Vitruvius’s literary sources and perhaps he might be the author of an abstract on astronomy. In my opinion, Vitruvius image of the universe might have been influenced by the circulation and knowledge of three dimension models available in his time. In fact, motionless celestial globes had long been known before Vitruvius time,31 being so popular to become the object of artistic representations too. 31 In the 4th century B.C. Empedocles realized that a vase filled with water and rotating very fast had to be a demonstration of centrifugal force (Aristot. cael. 295 a); Anaxagoras’ idea was that ether, the kind of particular air filling the universe, had a circular motion causing the movement of stars too; as a consequence the sun, moon and stars had to be burning stones moved by ether circular movement. In Anaximander thought stars are wheels filled with air (Aet. II, 13, 7) and the sun’s motion is similar to the one of the

58

Giovanni Di Pasquale

Fig. 3. Pompeii, Urania holding a celestial sphere (1st century B.C.) (Galluzzi 2009, 84)

Paintings, mosaics and archaeological findings testify to the diffusion of these globes, wonderful works of art and science and the reference point to a number of discussions about the position of the celestial bodies and the working of the universe. It’s sufficient to consider, for example, the representation of the celestial globe in the well known mosaic showing Plato and other astronomers discussing about astronomy (fig. 1), or the astronomical globe from the Kugel private collection in Paris (2nd century B.C., fig. 2) and the one in the hands of the goddess Urania, from a fresco recently discovered in a villa at the outskirts of Pompeii (fig. 3).32 At the beginning of the 3rd century B.C. Eudoxus introduced in the doctrine of astronomy the use of organa, presumably armillary spheres, being for

potter wheel and Emepdocles is thinking of the glass technology to explain the nature of the celestial vault. 32 For the mosaic representing Plato and the fresco with Urania see Di Pasquale (2004), 31 – 76 and Di Pasquale (2004b) and (2009); for the astronomical globe from Mainz see Galluzzi (2009), 140.

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics

59

Fig. 4. Solunto (Palermo), armillary sphere, floor mosaic, House of Leda (2nd century B.C.) (Galluzzi 2009, 89)

this reason strongly criticized by Epicurus since, from his point of view, those devices could not represent the real nature of the atomistic universe33 (fig. 4). At the end of the 1st century B.C. astronomical devices like celestial globes and armillary spheres were well known. In fact, when describing the poloi looking like wheels or rings, Vitruvius is probably thinking about armillary spheres. During the 3rd century B.C. the growing knowledge concerning the working of mechanisms and toothed gear devices, together with the ability to perform complex mathematical calculations led to a considerable improvement in the construction of working models. At the highest level, these working models were capable of recording and reproducing through the movement of dials and spheres the daily motion of celestial bodies all around a motionless Earth. The Sun, the Moon and the planets movement could be mechanically reproduced: as a consequence, these mechanical marvels became the favourite objects to discuss order and distances of the planets, the constitution of the heavens, the origin of the celestial movements and all the basic knowledge astronomers and philosophers had speculated about. As a matter of fact we can say that planetariums in the Hellenistic age are the forerunners of the 17th century mechanical models of the universe and contributed a lot to the development of astronomy and to visualize the image and working of the universe. Not by chance, in the centuries before Vitruvius’s epoch, the literary sources tell us something about the presence of mechanical planetariums: Cicero describes the one he could admire in Rhodes, made by Posidonius,34 and the very famous one made by Archimedes in Syracuse.35 33 D. Sedley (1976), 23 – 54, in particular 31 – 43. 34 Cic. nat. deor. II,34 – 35

60

Giovanni Di Pasquale

The planetarium found in the island of Antikythera at the beginning of the 20 century is the most striking proof concerning the existence of such wonderful and complex devices. Made in the island of Rhodes around 150 B.C., it was probably the most complicated machine the world had ever seen.36 This planetarium plays multiple roles and offers visual access to results normally achieved only by tables and computing. The bronze toothed gears witness an astronomical device made in order to put in relationship the Sun and the Moon, so that every 254 moon revolutions we have nineteen solar years (one Metonic Cycle).37 It is the finding of this mechanism that clarifies Cicero’s description about Posidonius’s planetarium he saw in Rhodes representing the movements of Sun, Moon and planets and, above all, Archimedes’s mechanical representation of the universe brought to Rome by Marcellus at the end of the Second Punic war.38 th

35 Cic. rep I, 21 – 22. See also Cic. Tusc. I, XXV, 63. Another interesting reference can be found in the poet Claudian, Shorter Poems, (translation by M. Platnauer), in Claudian, II, Loeb Classical Library, Cambridge 1922 where the Archimedes planetarium is described within a transparent glass globe containing the working mechanism. 36 Price de Solla (1975). 37 Wright (2002), 169 – 173. 38 Cic. nat. deor. II, 87 – 88: “Who would not deny the name of human being to a man who, on seeing the regular motions of the heaven and the fixed order of the stars and the accurate interconnexion and interrelation of all things, can deny that these things possess any rational design, and can maintain that phenomena, the wisdom of whose ordering transcends the capacity of our wisdom to understand it, take place by chance? When we see something moved by machinery, like an orrery or clock or many other such things, we do not doubt that these contrivances are the work of reason; when therefore we behold the whole compass of the heaven moving with revolutions of marvelous velocity and executing with perfect regularity the annual changes of the seasons with absolute safety and security for all things, how can we doubt that all this is effected. See also Cic. nat. deor. II, 87 – 88: “But if the structure of the world in all its parts is such that it could not have been better whether in point of utility or beauty, let us consider whether this is the result of chance, or whether on the contrary the parts of the world are in such a condition that they could not possibly have cohered together if they were not controlled by intelligence and by divine providence. If then the products of nature are better than those of art, and if art produces nothing without reason, nature too cannot be deemed to be without reason. When you see a statue or a painting, you recognize the exercise of art; when you observe from a distance the course of a ship, you do not hesitate to assume that its motion is guided by reason and by art; when you look at a sun-dial or a water -clock you infer that it tells the time by art and not by chance; how then can it be consistent to suppose that the world, which includes both the works of art in question, the craftsmen who made them, and everything else besides, can be devoid of purpose and of reason? Suppose a traveller to carry into Scythia or Britain the orrery recently constructed by our friend Posidonius, which at each revolution reproduces the same motions of the sun, the moon and the five planets which take place in the heavens every twenty four hours, would any single native doubt that this orrery was the work of a rational being?

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics

61

Cicero records the discussions in front of these machines about the nature and origin of the universe.39 The mechanical planetary could not be the solution to every astronomical discussion, but the question a quo moventur planetae was now going to receive new answers. From a general point of view, this machine demonstrates that complicated models were within the possibilities of ancient technicians and that computing complexity and the precision of measures were not so far from the theoretical and practical knowledge of some skilled technicians who were alive during the Hellenistic age. This is a very important statement, in direct contrast with A. Koyré’s well known hypothesis against the development of science in Antiquity, as a consequence of the supposed impossibility to accomplish complicate mathematical operations and to fabricate toothed gear mechanisms.40 Architecture and mechanics developed their technical system long before the fundamental epicycle theory of the universe: while thinking about these mechanical models, we might consider the possibility that the epicycles solution was in origin a technical, mechanical innovation and not a philosophical one. Once Greek astronomers realized how epicycles could replicate the variations of celestial bodies, they incorporated the concept into their own geometrical model of the cosmos. The idea of the epicycle is ascribed to Apollonius (3rd century B.C.), but gears and epicycles seem to appear at the same moment. The path of Mercury and Venus in Heraclides’s system works like an epicycle. Vitruvius’s outstanding description of this system of the universe does not allow assuming any relation to the literary sources we know: this might find an explanation if we consider the possibility of the circulation of the discussed celestial globes, armillary spheres and mechanical devices available in Rome. As a conclusion, three examples, a few years after Vitruvius time, can confirm the relationship between architecture, mechanics and astronomy. The first one deals with the Domus Aurea, built under the emperor Nero starting from 64 A.D.; inside this extraordinary imperial building there was a mechanical wonder, the dining room rotating in order to imitate the wonderful movement of the heaven; not by chance the authors of this impressive building, the architects Severus and Celer, are called machinatores.41

39 Cic. nat. deor. II, 87,88 and II, 97. The mechanical planetary could not be the solution to every astronomical discussion, but these devices were very useful in helping to understand the real nature and working of the universe. 40 Borst (1997). A consequence of the diffusion in antiquity of these devices can be seen in the presence, in the Islamic civilization, of computing, mechanical, astronomical instruments, but originated in antiquity. 41 Tac. ann. 15, 42.

62

Giovanni Di Pasquale

Fig. 5. Rome (Museo Nazionale Romano), stone relief with building scene (1st century A.D.) (Arte e Dossier n8 255, 2009, 74)

The second example deals with the Pantheon. The design of the building we can admire today should be attributed to Trajan’s architect Apollodorus of Damascus, the interior of the dome was possibly intended to symbolize the arched vault of the heavens. Cassius Dion (53, 27) says this building was intended to celebrate the twelve planetary deities, being the dome a representation of the universe. This might be confirmed looking at the number of rows of concentric rings, five (like the planets apart from the Sun and the Earth), each of twenty-eight panels. Moreover, the oculus, the circular window at the top of the building, represents the Sun and seems to be the gate to the heaven’s doors. The floor, slightly convex, seems to resemble the surface of the Earth. Throughout the day, the light from the oculus moves around this space in a sort of reverse sundial effect. The last document is a stone relief found in the Via Cassia and today on display in Rome (Museo Nazionale Romano, fig. 5); this relief is a perfect synthesis of Vitruvius’s point of view and of Emperor Octavian Augustus’s communication of his political program through the power of images. On the right and on the left there are two cranes, building a wall; in the middle a winged Victory is flying to put the crown over the head of a winning soldier, maybe the emperor Augustus himself; in the meanwhile the personification of the goddess Rome is leaving, directly at the feet of the emperor, the celestial sphere representing the universe; on the right the trophy with the weapons of a defeated barbarian army. Architecture, mechanics and astronomy are together again, giving rise to a very strong imperial political message: the regular movement of the heavenly sphere finds a perfect correspondence with the new situation of peace and order related to the political action of Rome.

Vitruvius’s Image of the Universe: Architecture and Mechanics

63

Architecture and mechanics are the basic knowledge to accomplish the very ambitious project of transforming the landscape of the empire in a Roman landscape: temples, forums, baths, water supply systems and roads are built everywhere. The story Vitruvius is telling deals with the celebration of architecture as something more than a technical knowledge: the organization of the books of the De architectura, passing from aedificatio to gnomonice and to machinatio, architecture, astronomy and mechanics, underlines the significance of a message that deals a lot with politics as well. A perfect relationship exists among the emperor, the movement of the celestial sphere and the organization of the empire, depending on the good knowledge of architecture and mechanics: not by chance in the De re publica Cicero had already established a very interesting connection between Archimedes’s mechanical sphere reproducing the movement of the heavens and the Roman republic, whose boundaries were now right up at the heaven doors.

Sources Galen, De cuiusque animi, in: Galeni Opera Omnia, hg. v. Friedrich Wilhelm Assmann / Carl Gottlob Kuhn, Leipzig 1833, ND Hildesheim 1965.

Bibliography Borst, Arno, Computus. Tempo e numero nella storia d’Europa, Genova 1997. De Santillana, Giorgio, Le origini del pensiero scientifico, Firenze 1966. Di Pasquale, Giovanni, “Scientific and technological use of glass in Graeco – Roman antiquity”, in: Marco Beretta (ed.), When glass matters: studies in the history of science and art from Graeco-Roman antiquity to early modern era, Firenze 2007, 31 – 76. (2004a) Di Pasquale, Giovanni, “Vetro e meccanica”, in: M. Beretta / G. Di Pasquale (Hg.), Vitrum. Il vetro fra arte e scienza nel mondo romano, Firenze 2004b, 153 – 161. (2004 b) Di Pasquale, Giovanni, Astrologia, potere e immagini del cosmo a Roma, in: Paolo Galluzzi (Hg.), Galileo, Images of the universe from Antiquity to the telescope, Firenze 2009, 85 – 91. Galli, Marco, “Machina. L’esperienza tecnologica nel contesto Mediterraneo antico”, in: Marco Galli / Giuseppina Pisani Sartorio (Hg.), Machina: tecnologia dell’antica Roma, Roma 2009, 29 – 36. Galluzzi, Paolo (Hg.), Galileo, Images of the universe from Antiquity to the telescope, Firenze 2009. Gatti Perer, Maria Luisa / Rovetta, Alessandro (Hg.), Cesare Cesariano e il classicismo del primo cinquecento, Milano 1996. Kahn, Charles H., Anaximander and the Origins of Greek Cosmology, New York 1960. Mondolfo, Rodolfo (Hg.), Polis, lavoro e tecnica, Milano 1982.

64

Giovanni Di Pasquale

Pollitt, Jerome Jordan, The Ancient View of Greek Art: Criticism, History, and Terminology, New Haven, Connecticut 1974. Price de Solla, Derek John, Gears from the Greeks: the Antykhitera Mechanism. A Calendar Computer from ca. 80 B.C., New York 1975. Raven, John Earle, “Polyclitus and Pythagoreanism”, in: Classical Quarterly N.S. 45/1 (1951), 147 – 152. Romano, Elisa, La capanna e il tempio: Vitruvio o dell’architettura, Palermo 1987. Sedley, David N., “Epicurus and the mathematicians of Cyzicus”, in: Cronache Ercolanesi 6 (1976), 23 – 54. Shank, Michel H., “Mechanical thinking in European astronomy 13th-15th centuries”, in: Massimo Bucciantini / Michele Camerota / Sophie Roux (eds), Mechanics and cosmology in the medieval and early modern period, Firenze 2007, 3 – 28. Wright, Maureen Rosemary, “A Planetarium Display for the Antykythera Mechanism”, in: Horological Journal 144 (2002), 169 – 173.

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius Peter Fane-Saunders Vitruvius and Pliny the Elder might, at first, seem strange companions for an article. After all, the diligent engineer and the tireless naturalist belong to two very different worlds, Vitruvius living through the Civil War and the early Empire under Augustus, Pliny finding recognition during the reigns of Vespasian and Titus only to die at the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 AD. In modern scholarship they are rarely discussed in the same context; Pliny receives little attention in studies of Vitruvius and his legacy, and vice-versa.1 And yet, the two writers are linked in two key respects. Firstly, Pliny’s Naturalis historia in thirty-seven volumes is one of only a handful of surviving classical texts to cite Vitruvius as an authority in his field. Vitruvius had bewailed the dearth of Roman treatises about architecture and indirectly appealed for more to be written. If he had seen the results of his appeal, he would have been disappointed. As far as we know, few Latin texts were composed on the subject in the period spanning the early Empire to late antiquity, though a handful of authors mention Vitruvius as an important figure:2 Frontinus at the end of the first century AD;3 Faventinus in the late third;4 Servius in the fourth;5 and, finally, the Gallo-Roman poet and saint Sidonius Apollinaris in the fifth.6 But Pliny remains his first attested reader. Secondly, Pliny appropriates a good number of passages from De architectura. The Naturalis historia, however, is not a compendium that draws heavily on Vitruvius, often unquestioningly, in the manner of De diversis fabricis architectonicae by Faventinus, or De re rustica by Palladius that borrows from Faventinus, but is a reworking of Vitruvian material into an entirely new context. Pliny consults Books II-IV, VII and VIII, and integrates sections into 1

2 3 4 5 6

This paper is part of a research which the author is presently about to publish in form of a monograph on Pliny in the Renaissance. I would like to thank Indra Kagis McEwen, Michael D. Reeve and Richard Schofield for kindly commenting on drafts of this paper.– Notable exceptions are Detlefsen (1872) and Barresi (1989), who discuss the relationship between certain passages in the two texts. Pellati (1921). Frontinus, De aquaeductu urbis Romae, I.xxv.1 – 2. Faventinus (1973), 41 (I). Servius, In Vergilii Aeneidos commentarius, VI.43. Sidonius Apollinaris, Epistulae, IV.iii.5; VIII.vi.10. See also Cam (2003).

66

Peter Fane-Saunders

his own volumes on assorted subjects: Book XVI on trees, mostly evergreens; followed by Books XXXV on types of earth and XXXVI on stone.7 On reading Pliny’s massive tome, however, it soon becomes clear that he is not especially interested in architectural design or construction per se. The natural world, with all its marvels and ingenuity, governs his account. Pliny uses the technical information provided by Vitruvius in order to demonstrate how man has mastered his environment through the medium of building and, in the process, created various Wonders of the World – stunning architectural setpieces erected around the Mediterranean basin to honour gods, heroes and kings. The greatest of all these monuments, according to Book XXXVI, reside in Rome and underpin Rome’s global supremacy.8

The Passages Taken by Pliny from Vitruvius Certainly, Pliny considers Vitruvius an important enough authority to paraphrase or quote verbatim, and thus lend his account a degree of architectural proficiency. Since his primary interest lies in natural substances and their uses, Pliny consults Books II, III and IV of De architectura for details that he deems pertinent to his discourse of man’s occasionally remarkable – but mostly destructive – meddling with nature. For instance, passages from Vitruvius on the properties of different types of wood feature in Book XVI of the Naturalis historia about trees;9 Vitruvius’s account of bricks is allocated to Book XXXV where the topic is earth and clay;10 the discussion of sand-lime in De architectura is assigned to Book XXXVI, Pliny’s section on stone and stonecutting.11 All the while, though, the Vitruvian material is carefully adjusted to suit Pliny’s educated but non-expert audience. Setting the two texts side by side, the extent to which Pliny has modified the content of De architectura becomes clear. His chapter in Book XXXVI on the different types of column is a good example. Part of a digression on the natural composition and properties of stucco, at first glance this section in the Naturalis 7 I use the text of the Loeb editions. Instances of Pliny’s use of De architectura [hereafter DA] in his Naturalis historia [hereafter NH] are meticulously charted in Schuler (1999), 15 – 24, 328 – 329. There are some contested readings: sections from DA, VIII possibly appear in NH, XXXI; DA, VII in NH, XXXIII; and DA, IV and VII in NH, XXXIV. 8 On the imperial dimension to Pliny’s vision of Roman architecture see Isager (1986); Isager (1991), 183 – 205; Carey (2000); Naas (2002), 327 – 393; Carey (2003), 86 – 101; Murphy (2004); Naas (2004); Rutledge (2012), 193 – 219. See also the opening essay to the Italian edition of the NH: Conte (1982 – 88), I, XVII-XLVII. 9 E.g., DA, II.ix.14. Cf. NH, XVI.xix.45. 10 DA, II.iii.3; NH, XXXV.xlix.171. 11 DA, II.v.1; NH, XXXVI.liv.175.

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

67

historia appears to be a basic patchwork of quotations and paraphrases from Vitruvius.12 Closer inspection, however, reveals that Pliny is both simplifying and amplifying his source. Vitruvius had described Doric, Ionic and Corinthian genera of temples, together with Tuscan dispositio; Pliny, conversely, divorces each column from its architectural setting – its base and entablature – and so renders its form abstract and self-contained. What is more, he simplifies the Vitruvian system of column proportions. In Books III and IV of De architectura Vitruvius indicates that the shafts of the Greek orders had two proportions in their height-width ratios: ‘primitive’ and ‘mature’.13 Contrary to Vitruvius, and in order to avoid confusion, Pliny assigns just one proportion to the shaft of each order. He distinguishes between the Doric and the Tuscan columns by giving the Doric its ‘primitive’ measurement (6:1) and its ‘mature’ to the Tuscan (7:1). Similarly, the Ionic is separated from the Corinthian; the former had a ‘primitive’ and a ‘mature’ measurement (8:1 and 9:1), while the latter had only a ‘mature’ (9:1).14 Such a sliding scale is far more intelligible for the non-specialist reader. Pliny also expands the Vitruvian list of column genera. For Vitruvius, the Tuscan type was a dispositio; in the Naturalis historia, it is a fully-fledged Italian genus with a proportion more slender than the Greek Doric. There was also the quadrangular Attic column, according to Pliny – an architectonic member mentioned nowhere by Vitruvius, though this is not explicitly credited as a genus. A similar pattern emerges in other passages taken from Vitruvius. Pliny’s section on brick walls in Book XXXV is a tapestry of sentences taken from Book II of De architectura that have been copied or compressed, and then deftly reordered – all in a bid to underscore the marvellous character of particular substances. Vitruvius’s discussion of pozzolana, a volcanic ash used for underwater foundations, becomes, in Pliny’s hands, part of a reflection on the material’s extraordinary properties.15 The Vitruvian section on bricks is couched in a discourse on their spectacular applications.16 Likewise, the reports with which Vitruvius illustrates the qualities of construction materials – his reference, for instance, to the durability of the cypress roof at the Temple of Diana at Ephesus – are taken by Pliny and incorporated into his lists of natural wonders.17 Tellingly, Pliny does not always understand the sense of the passages that he is borrowing. At one point, addressing the topic of masonry courses in 12 Cf. DA, III.iii.9 – 13; IV.i.1; IV.i.6; IV.i.7; IV.i.8; IV.i.11; IV.iii.3 – 4; IV.vii.2. 13 Vitruvius does not use the terms ‘primitive’ and ‘mature’ in this context; they derive from Thoenes and Günther (1985), 307. 14 Ibid. 15 DA, II.vi.1 – 4. Cf. NH, XXXV.xlvii.166 – 168. On Vitruvius’s very different approach to natural mirabilia see Courrént (2004). 16 DA, II.iii.3 – 4; II.viii.9 – 10. Cf. NH, XXXV.xlix.171 – 173. 17 DA, II.ix.13. Cf. NH, XVI.lxxix.213.

68

Peter Fane-Saunders

Book XXXVI, he misconstrues Vitruvius, believing that the term diatonos refers to rubble infill (‘fractis caementis’), whereas it in fact denotes the technique in which stones were inserted across the full width of the wall to provide additional stability.18

Pliny, Vitruvius, Architectural Marvels and the Triumph of Rome Besides details of architectural theory and construction materials, Pliny may also have derived information from Vitruvius on built mirabilia. Marvels of architecture fascinated Pliny; the early canonical Seven Wonders, as given in Antipater of Sidon, are all mentioned at some point in the Naturalis historia: from the Walls of Babylon (praised in Book VI on Middle Eastern geography)19 to the Colossus of Rhodes and the chryselephantine statue of Olympian Zeus (both located in Book XXXIV on metals),20 then on to the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus,21 the Pyramids at Giza,22 the Hanging Gardens of Babylon23 and the Temple of Diana (Artemis) at Ephesus24 (all present in Book XXXVI). But judging from his use of language,25 Pliny subscribed to a more expansive tradition that was common currency from the Hellenistic era onwards.26 18 NH, XXXVI.li.172: ‘medios parietes farcire fractis caementis diatonicon vocant.’ Cf. DA, II.viii.7: ‘Prae caetera interponunt singulos crassitudine perpetua utraque parte frontatos, quos diatonous appellant, qui maxime religando confirmant parietum soliditatem.’ See Vitruvius (2009), 367 n. 21. 19 NH, VI.xxx.121. Pliny also refers to the bitumen used in their construction at XXXV.li.182. 20 Ibid., XXXIV.xviii.41; XXXIV.xix.49. 21 Ibid., XXXVI.iv.30 – 31. 22 Ibid., XXXVI.xvi.75 – 76; XXXVI.xxvii.78 – 82. 23 Ibid., XXXVI.xx.94. 24 Ibid., XXXVI.xxi.95. 25 Pliny’s descriptions of lesser-known structures are often prefaced by a verb that denotes communication – e. g., ‘legitur’ (‘it is read’) or ‘dicuntur’ (‘they are said’) – suggesting that he relied on pre-existing written accounts: ‘dicuntur’ (NH, XXXVI.xiv.66: raising of an obelisk; XXXVI.xv.73: settling foundations of the Campus Martius obelisk; XXXVI.xvi.76: two pyramids on the site of Lake Moeris); ‘dicantur’ (XXXVI.xvi.75: Pyramids; XXXVI.xxiv.121: ‘invicta miracula’); ‘tradunt’ (XXXIV.xviii.41: Colossus of Rhodes; XXXVI.xiv.67: obelisk floated downstream; XXXVI.xviii.83: Pharos; XXXVI.xix.84: Egyptian labyrinth; XXXVI.xix.93: Etruscan labyrinth; XXXVI.xxi.97: dream of Chersiphron); ‘traduntur’ (XXXVI.xviii.83: Sostratus’s walkway at Cnidus); ‘legitur’ (XXXVI.xx.94: Hanging Gardens, Egyptian Thebes). 26 The first was a canon of seven monuments, the original idea for which has been credited to Ctesias, a writer of the 5th century BC. The second group is less clearly defined and arose from political wrangling between cities in the Hellenistic and Roman periods, resulting in further marvels being added. See esp. Schott (1891), 3 – 42.

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

69

Consulting this second list led Pliny to include many more Wonders than the canonical Seven. Some are known through his text alone. Pliny’s literary sources on remarkable architecture are many and varied. In Book I, he lists the subjects that he covers in each volume, followed by the authors that he consulted, both foreign and Roman.27 A few of the names are still familiar to us, but many are obscure, their works surviving only in fragments or are known solely through Pliny. Of the foreign authorities, the best known are Herodotus and Theophrastus; others such as Juba, Demoteles and Apion less so. Pliny was well versed, too, in Latin literature on the subject. In fact, the Naturalis historia contains excerpts from numerous sources that no longer exist, and so bears witness to an almost entirely vanished textual tradition. Among the most important lost sources for the Naturalis historia were works by the republican-era polymath, Marcus Terentius Varro (116 – 27 BC). From various references and quotations in Book XXXVI, it is clear that Pliny turned to Varro’s treatise De novem disciplinis, a composition that ranked architecture as an important art to be included among the artes liberales.28 Prominent, too, is Gaius Licinius Mucianus, one of Pliny’s contemporaries. Governor of Lycia, then of Syria, where he failed to put down the Jewish revolt and was replaced by Vespasian in 69 AD, Mucianus compiled a treatise on the natural history and geography of the East that covered the miraculous events, architecture and phenomena that he had directly encountered or of which he had heard tell.29 Pliny and Vitruvius appear to have consulted the same Greek sources. Despite taking little interest in marvellous buildings, Vitruvius twice refers to the septem spectacula, or Seven Wonders; on each occasion, the phrase appears in the context of the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus and its marble decoration.30 A similar account of the monument appears in the Naturalis historia, including reference to the septem spectacula and a parallel list of the artists responsible for the tomb’s universal fame: Scopas, Bryaxis, Timotheus, Leochares and Pythis31 – 27 NH, I.xxxvi: ‘Ex auctoribus […]. Externis […].’ 28 Ritschl (1887); Shanzer (2005), esp. 84 – 90, 98 – 103. 29 On Mucianus’s travels and treatise see Williamson (2005). For Mucianus’s character and interests see Tacitus, Historiae, II.5. 30 DA, II.viii.11: ‘[…] Mausoleum ita egregiis operibus est factum ut in septem spectaculis nominetur’; VII.praef.13: ‘[…] artis eminens excellentia coegit ad septem spectaculorum eius operis pervenire famam.’ Cf. NH, XXXVI.iv.30: ‘opus id ut esset inter septem miracula […].’ 31 NH, XXXVI.iv.30 – 31: ‘Scopas habuit eadem aetate Bryaxim et Timotheum et Leocharen, de quibus simul dicendum est, quoniam pariter caelavere Mausoleum. […] ab oriente caelavit Scopas, a septentrione Bryaxis, a meridie Timotheus, ab occasu Leochares, priusque quam peragerent, regina obiit. non tamen recesserunt nisi absoluto, iam id gloriae ipsorum artisque monimentum iudicantes; hodieque certant manus. […] in summo est quadriga marmorea, quam fecit Pythis.’

70

Peter Fane-Saunders

Vitruvius has Leochares, Bryaxis, Scopas, Praxiteles and Timotheus, with Satyrus and Pytheos responsible for the building itself.32 Both authors seemingly had access to at least one now-lost commentary on the Mausoleum, perhaps the work by Satyrus and Pytheos mentioned by Vitruvius.33 Pliny, however, pays greater attention to the curious design of the structure, in keeping with his general interest in the unusual character of buildings in the East, although the order and language of his report suggests that he may have glanced at the Vitruvian version. Another instance of Pliny’s use of a Greek source potentially known to Vitruvius comes in his description of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, also one of the Seven Wonders. The temple appears in the middle of Book XXXVI of the Naturalis historia, where Pliny outlines its physical dimensions, sculptural decoration and sheer expense. Drawing on a Greek authority – perhaps Artemidorus of Ephesus,34 with elements taken from the treatise written by the original builders of the temple, Chersiphron and Metagenes35 – he notes that the shrine was built over the course of 120 years and paid for by all Asia Minor; its structure was 425 feet long and 225 feet wide; it had 127 columns, each 60 feet high, which were donated by individual kings; and 36 of the columns were carved (‘caelatae’), one of them by the celebrated sculptor Scopas.36 As with his account of the Mausoleum, Pliny concentrates on the general dimensions and unusual elements in the design; however, to lend the narrative a degree of technical proficiency, Pliny includes details regarding the procedures required to secure the shrine’s foundations – a layer of well-trodden charcoal was laid, then another of unshorn sheepskins – and the use of reed baskets containing sand for raising the architraves.37 A similar account appears in Book III of De architectura in which Vitruvius addresses the construction of temple and harbour

32 DA, VII.praef.12 – 13: ‘[…] de Mausoleo Satyrus et Pytheos, quibus vero felicitas maximum summumque contulit munus. quorum enim artes aevo perpetuo nobilissimas laudes et sempiterno florentes habere iudicantur, excogitatis egregias operas praestiterunt. namque singulis frontibus singuli artifices sumpserunt certatim partes ad ornandum et probandum Leochares Bryaxis Scopas Praxiteles, nonnulli etiam putant Timotheum […].’ 33 Ibid., VII.praef.12. 34 NH, I.xxxvi: ‘Externis. […] Artemidoro Ephesio’. For Artemidorus as a possible source of Pliny’s information about the temple see Vitruvius (1997), I, 319 n. 136, 323 n. 148. 35 DA, VII.praef.12: ‘[…] ionice Ephesi quae est Dianae, Chersiphron et Metagenes [ediderunt volume]’. 36 NH, XXXVI.xxi.95 – 97. 37 Ibid., XXXVI.xxi.95 – 96: ‘in solo id palustri fecere, ne terrae motus sentiret aut hiatus timeret, rursus ne in lubrico atque instabili fundamenta tantae molis locarentur, calcatis ea substravere carbonibus, dein velleribus lanae. […] summa miraculi epistylia tantae molis attolli potuisse; id consecutus ille est aeronibus harenae plenis […].’

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

71

foundations.38 As with the passage on the Mausoleum, Pliny’s report may have been mediated by knowledge of the related passage in Vitruvius. Not surprisingly, given the rich mix of source material – from the prodigies of Mucianus to treatises of Greek architects to the sober account of Vitruvius – Pliny’s catalogue of ancient architectural marvels is the most varied to have survived from the ancient world. He divides it into two categories: non-Roman (opera mirabilia in terris – ‘remarkable works in foreign lands’)39 and Roman (Romae miracula operum XVIII – ‘eighteen marvellous works at Rome’).40 In so doing, he promotes an understanding of architecture quite alien to that recorded by previous writers in the marvel tradition, and indeed to the account given by Vitruvius. De architectura interprets the history of architecture in terms of development and decline: early man learnt from the example of nature, modelling huts on the design of bird nests; gathering around fires, the first builders exchanged ideas and began to tame nature in line with their needs.41 Eventually, cities were constructed in harmony with their surroundings,42 with buildings designed on a modular system based on the proportions of the human body43 – a system that developed in classical Greece, especially in the design of temples.44 Yet by his time, he remarks, the aesthetic and moral values of architecture were under potential threat from practices such as the mixing of the column orders – departures from Rome’s noble Greek inheritance.45 For Pliny, however, Rome reached its architectural pinnacle in the age of the Flavian emperors.46 Whereas painting and sculpture had, in Pliny’s view, been in decline since the Roman conquest of Greece, only occasionally recovering their past brilliance,47 architecture in the age of Vespasian was only just beginning to realise its full potential. Building was not a dying art, a point that he is keen to 38 DA, III.iv.1 – 2: ‘sin autem solidum non invenietur, sed locus erit congesticius ad imum aut paluster, tunc is locus fodiatur exinaniaturque et palis alneis aut oleagineis robusteis ustilatis configatur, sublicaque machinis adigatur quam creberrime, carbonibusque expleantur intervalla palorum, et tunc structuris solidissimis fundamenta impleantur’; V.xii.6: ‘[…] et inter destinas creta in eronibus ex ulva palustri factis calcetur. […] sin autem mollis locus erit, palis ustilatis alneis aut oleagineis configantur et carbonibus compleantur […].’ 39 NH, I.xxxvi.16 – 23: ‘opera mirabilia in terris. Sphinx Aegyptia. pyramides; Pharos; labyrinthi; pensiles horti. pensile oppidum; de templo Ephesiae Dianae; aliorum templorum admirabilia; de lapide fugitivo. echo septiens resonans. sine clavo aedificia’. 40 Ibid., I.xxxvi.24. 41 DA, II.i.7. 42 Ibid., I.iv.1 – 12; I.vi.1 – 13. 43 Ibid., III.i.1 – 9. 44 Ibid., III.i.4. 45 Ibid., I.ii.6. 46 On the ancient literary topos of Rome’s architecture as an expression/extension of the city’s imperial power see Edwards and Woolf (2003), 2 – 13. 47 Gros (1978).

72

Peter Fane-Saunders

emphasise.48 According to this narrative, primitive construction comprised wooden structures49 and huts built from mud in imitation of swallow nests.50 Stone architecture began with Eastern despots who constructed grand edifices for the sole purpose of self-promotion; the Greeks turned the discipline into an art, finding ever more inventive ways of inspiring awe in the viewer; but it was the Romans who took the discipline to new heights by marrying beauty to utility and stability on an unprecedented scale, in the process creating architectural wonders of their own. As the divisions of Pliny’s list recognise, there were two competing tendencies in Rome: the first – and earliest, historically speaking – was to serve the common interest; the second trend, which began in the late Republic, led to the creation of buildings that conferred personal pleasure or political advantage. Pliny is aware of this troubling dichotomy, but he lays the blame for Roman extravagance on malign foreign influences; the luxuria of the East and the utilitas of Rome are, unfortunately, but two sides of the same coin. Not unlike Vitruvius, who had complained of architectural abuses, Pliny detects unwelcome features in the new architectural landscape.

Plinian Architectural Thought and Terminology There are, then, considerable divergences between the two texts. As befits a work on natural history (rather than one on architecture alone), at the heart of Book XXXVI lies the notion that stone provides structure and stability in the natural world. Man interferes by boring into natural barriers such as mountains and headlands in his vainglorious search for precious marbles and minerals – many more types than were known at the time of Vitruvius. At the same time, however, these excavations can be harnessed for good; when man chooses to build great aqueducts or drain lakes, he has to bore through hills. For Pliny, the city is the mountain’s artificial equivalent. Some cities were created as statements of power by their rulers; others were devised with the needs of their inhabitants in mind. Rome emerges as the supreme example of the latter, a metropolis built to serve the people: its hills are honeycombed by tunnels for sewers and underground rivers51 – all these projects being carried out in the public interest, while the structures above ground catered for every aspect of civic life, from administration (Agrippa’s Ballot Office)52 to entertainment (the Circus Maximus)53 and defence (the rampart).54 48 49 50 51 52

Isager (1991), 209. NH, XII.ii.3. Ibid., VII.lvi.194. Cf. DA, II.i.2. NH, XXXVI.xxiv.104 – 08. Ibid., XXXVI.xxiv.102.

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

73

The imperial capital is what Pliny calls an ‘urbs pensilis’, a ‘hanging city’, where stone is stacked into towers and new hills rest on vaulted substructures.55 Should its monuments be placed in a single location, writes Pliny, the viewer would experience something akin to a vision of another world all condensed into one place.56 Needless to say, this is not a Vitruvian attitude towards the knowledge and practical experience required for the art of construction. In Book I Vitruvius famously declares that the architect should possess scientia in several fields that, if they are scrupulously followed, should eventually lead the practitioner to the metaphorical summum templum architecturae.57 This proficiency can be achieved only after many travails; it does not suddenly materialise as a phantasmagoric assembly of buildings. In Vitruvius’s opinion, scientia is the product of diligent application, sollertia, and is hard-won by any would-be practitioner. By contrast, the Naturalis historia features the term scientia just once in connection with architecture when, in Book VII, Pliny acclaims without further explanation the expertise of Chersiphron, builder of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, and Dinochares (Dinocrates in De architectura), the planner of Alexandria.58 In Vitruvius’s account, ‘Dinocrates’ was flawed and had to learn from the criticisms of Alexander the Great.59 For Pliny, ‘Dinochares’ had great ability but his development – gained through personal experience – is never discussed. In this sense, Pliny adopts a very different approach from Vitruvius. The discourse of De architectura is openly rhetorical, with its Ciceronian inflections and emphasis on the concepts of inventio, dispositio, eloquentia, memoria and pronuntiatio.60 Pliny has no such intellectual programme concerning architecture. The Naturalis historia is, first and foremost, a catalogue of the natural world and its contents, a moralising tract that celebrates the marvels of nature only to condemn their destruction by man. With a different readership in mind, Pliny sidesteps the theoretical underpinnings of Vitruvius’s treatise. Ideas central to Vitruvian thought are sidelined or contradicted. An architect, for Vitruvius, should have practical competence (fabrica), be capable of reasoning (ratioci-

53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60

Ibid. Ibid., III.v.67; XXXVI.xxiv.104. Ibid., XXXVI.xxiv.104. Ibid., XXXVI.xxiv.101: ‘universitate vero acervata et in quendam unum cumulum coiecta non alia magnitudo exurget quam si mundus alius quidam in uno loco narretur.’ DA, I.i.11. NH, VII.xxxvii.125. On the reading ‘Dinochares’/’Dinocrates’ see Pliny the Elder (1982 – 88), V, 265, § 148 n. 4. DA, II.praef.1 – 4. E.g., ibid., I.i.4; I.ii.1; I.ii.2; I.ii.9; V.praef.1.

74

Peter Fane-Saunders

natio) and be versed in a range of fields (disciplinae).61 Pliny never defines what is required for the profession.62 For Pliny, man possesses reason yet abuses it when he despoils the natural world. In this respect, the two authors are diametrically opposed.63 According to De architectura, the experienced architect may develop a degree of diversity (varietas) in his work by exercising his sound personal judgement. The Naturalis historia, however, maintains that nature is the only true source of ratio. The artificial equivalent often leads to wanton excess (luxuria) 64 or frivolous delights (deliciae), 65 both of which are symptoms of folly (insania).66 Man’s prime folly is his craving for stone, and grand buildings are all too often testimony to his vanity.67 The work of the architect can prove morally and socially detrimental, despite conferring lasting fame on its patron.68 The Plinian and Vitruvian visions of architecture differ in other ways. While Pliny retains Vitruvius’s belief in the rôle of decor and utilitas in architecture, he eschews the key Vitruvian notion of magnificentia. Book VI of De architectura argues that a building – public or private – is rendered magnificent by beautiful and expensive materials, and will, as a result, satisfy a variety of concerns from artistic to aesthetic, social and political.69 Aristotle defines the analogous

61 Ibid., I.i.1 – 18. Vitruvius possibly draws on Varro’s list of disciplinae; see Geertman (1994), 11 – 12. 62 The word ratio appears in Book XXXVI of the NH, but carries various senses: ‘relation’ (NH, XXXVI.xiv.68: floating an obelisk down the Nile; XXXVI.lvi.178, XXXVI.lvi.179: proportion of columns), ‘reckoning’ (XXXVI.xv.72: alterations to the Campus Martius obelisk), ‘procedure’ (XXXVI.xv.73: behaviour of the heavens), ‘method’ (XXXVI.xvii.81: construction process of the pyramids) or ‘manner’ (XXXVI.lx.184: embellishment of paved floors). 63 See Courrént (2011), esp. 27 – 31, 43 – 59, 62 – 66, 71 – 80. 64 NH, XXXV.i.3 (painting of marble); XXXVI.i.1 (mining for stone); XXXVI.ix.51 (slicing of marble); XXXVI.xxiv.114 (Theatre of Marcus Scaurus). 65 Ibid., XIX.xix.50 (gardens in cities); XXXV.i.3 (painting of marble); XXXVI.i.1 (result of stone quarrying); XXXVI.xxiv.115 (scenery, costumes and stage equipment from the Theatre of Marcus Scaurus). On Pliny’s castigation of luxuria and man’s abuse of nature see esp. Wallace-Hadrill (1990); Citroni Marchetti (1991), 200 – 215; Isager (1991), 52 – 79; Beagon (1992), 75 – 79, 190 – 194; Carey (2003), 91 – 99; Cotta Ramosino (2004), 117 – 195; Citroni Marchetti (2011), 172 – 192. 66 NH, XXXVI.i.1 (man’s guiding principle regarding the use of stone); XXXVI.xxiv.104 (pyramid builders); XXXVI.xxiv.113 (behaviour of Caligula, Nero and Marcus Scaurus); XXXVI.xxiv.116 (twice: Gaius Curio’s project for twin theatres). 67 Ibid., XXXVI.i.1: ‘Lapidum natura restat, hoc est praecipua morum insania’. 68 As Pliny remarks on several occasions, remarkable structures and feats of engineering are memorable: ibid., XXXVI.xvi.76 (Lake Moeris); XXXVI.xix.90 (Lemnian labyrinth); XXXVI.xxiv.106 (Roman sewers); XXXVI.xxiv.124 (draining of the Fucine Lake). 69 See esp. DA, VI.viii.9: ‘itaque omnium operum probationes tripertito considerantur, id est fabrili subtilitate et magnificentia et dispositione. cum magnificenter opus perfectum aspicietur, a domini potestate inpensae laudabuntur, cum subtiliter, officinatoris

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

75

concept, lecakopq´peia, as the consequence of euergetism when it has been stripped of self-aggrandisement;70 Pliny chooses to follow the Greek reading rather than the formulation propounded by his Roman predecessor. According to Pliny’s interpretation, true magnificentia was first practised by the Greeks – rather than by oriental tyrants fuelled by their outrageous wealth – with buildings such as the Lighthouse at Alexandria71 and the Temple of Diana at Ephesus.72 The mantle then passed to Rome, where magnificentia was enacted on a scale hitherto unseen. A vast number of buildings demonstrated that there was a widespread belief in the city that architecture should serve the common good yet impress the viewer by combining grandeur with utility. Among such magnificent edifices were the Basilica of Paulus Aemilius, the Forum of Augustus and Vespasian’s Temple of Peace;73 and Marcus Agrippa’s programme of water management with its 700 basins, 500 fountains, 130 reservoirs (‘many magnificent in their decoration’), 300 statues of marble or bronze, and 400 marble columns.74 For Pliny, the beauty of these projects was determined as much by their function as by their outward appearance. Spectacles that ordinarily were considered by Romans to be displays of magnificentia are given short shrift by Pliny, the most obvious instance being his dismissal of the wasteful and dangerous temporary theatres assembled by Marcus Scaurus and Gaius Curio as part of their civic duties.75 Man’s powers of invention are, likewise, treated very differently in the Naturalis historia. Whereas Vitruvius considers human creativity in purely intellectual terms, inventio for Pliny results from man’s intervention in nature: innovations or discoveries stem from observation of one’s surroundings. De architectura treats the design process as a complex sequence of calculations and adjustments; in the Naturalis historia it is a more numinous affair. Some builders possessed an exceptional understanding (cognitio) of their discipline, having received their insights from a deity, usually one linked to the natural world. The architectus Chersiphron completed the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, 70 71 72 73 74

75

probabitur exactio, cum vero venuste proportionibus et symmetriis habuerit auctoritatem, tunc fuerit gloria architecti.’ Arist., Nicomachean Ethics, IV.ii.1 – 19. NH, XXXVI.xviii.83: ‘Magnificatur et alia turris a rege facta in insula Pharo portum optinente Alexandriae, quam constitisse DCCC talentis tradunt’. Ibid., XXXVI.xxi.95: ‘Graecae magnificentiae vera admiratio extat’. Ibid., XXXVI.xxiv.102: ‘non inter magnifica […]?’ Ibid., XXXVI.xxiv.121: ‘Agrippa vero in aedilitate adiecta Virgine aqua ceterisque conrivatis atque emendatis lacus DCC fecit, praeterea salientes D, castella CXXX, complura et cultu magnifica, operibus iis signa CCC aerea aut marmorea inposuit, columnas e marmore CCCC, eaque omnia annuo spatio.’ Pliny refers with pointed irony to Curio’s magnificentia – (NH, XXXVI.xxiv.120: ‘hanc suam magnificentiam’) since the spectacle that Curio provided led to public furor (NH, XXXVI.xxiv.118).

76

Peter Fane-Saunders

site of a famous fertility cult, but only after the moon goddess had appeared in a dream and offered him the solution to his construction woes. Or again, obelisks were petrified rays of the sun, and the first pharaoh to create one, a certain Mesphres, was instructed to do so while he slept, presumably by the solar god Ra.76 The term ‘architectus’, as used in the Naturalis historia, denotes an expert engineer. Always named, these figures were responsible for various impressive deeds: raising temple vaults or architraves into place, floating an obelisk downstream, creating a walkway across the sea, or covering an open theatre.77 Pliny also refers to the constructor as ‘artifex’. In these cases, the designer is usually anonymous and formulates some of the more imaginative projects in Pliny’s account: sculpting the sides of the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus and the chariot at its summit; piling pyramids on top of one another at the Etruscan labyrinth; setting threads of gold or little tubes between masonry blocks in a temple at Cyzicus; devising a pair of revolving theatres for the Roman aedile Curio.78 However, the principal artifex is nature, with its many inimitable creations,79 a model that man attempts to understand and thereby display his innate talent (ingenium):80 the mathematician Novius Facundus possessed ingenium since he understood the heavens when transforming an obelisk into a sundial, as did the designer of the temple at Cyzicus, whose clever device allowed rays of light and breeze to penetrate the inner sanctum.81 Good architecture, for Pliny, is a carefully weighted balance between the natural and human realms. In the Naturalis historia buildings are considered extensions of the natural world; as such, they are categorised according to the materials deployed in their construction. Yet Pliny does not, like Vitruvius, consider architecture in 76 NH, XXXVI.xiv.64. 77 Ibid., V.xi.62 (Dinochares); XXXIV.xlii.148 (Timochares – possibly a corruption of ‘Dinocrates’); XXXVI.xiv.67 (Satyrus or Phoenix); XXXVI.xviii.83 (Sostratus of Cnidus); XXXVI.xix.90 (Zmilis, Rhoecus and Theodorus); XXXVI.xxi.95 (Chersiphron); XXXVI.xxiv.102 (Valerius of Ostia). Pliny does not use the word ‘mechanicus’, denoting more magician than engineer; on this term see DeLaine (2002), 215 – 218. For Severus and Celer, the builders of Nero’s Golden House, as magistri and machinatores see Tacitus, Annales, XV.42. 78 NH, XXXVI.iv.30 – 31 (Mausoleum); XXXVI.xiv.66 (obelisk at Heliopolis); XXXVI.xiv.68 (obelisk transported down the Nile); XXXVI.xix.93 (Etruscan labyrinth); XXXVI.xxi.96 (Temple of Diana at Ephesus); XXXVI.xxii.98 (temple at Cyzicus); XXXVI.xxiv.118 (double theatre of Gaius Curio). 79 Cf. ibid., X.xci.196: ‘praecipua naturae artificia’; XI.xxviii.82; XVI.lxxxi.222; XXII.lvi.117: ‘parens illa ac divina rerum artifex’. 80 Ibid., XXXVI.lxviii.200: ‘[…] constant ingenio arte naturam faciente’. 81 Ibid., XXXVI.iv.18 (Phidias); XXXVI.xv.72 (Novius Facundus); XXXVI.xxii.98 (designer and device in the shrine at Cyzicus); XXXVI.xxiv.117 (Gaius Curio).

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

77

anthropomorphic terms. Key Vitruvian passages on the relationship between man and architecture are passed over – anecdotes such as those regarding the Ionic column, the Corinthian capital and their dual origins in the female form.82 An incidental observation regarding the obelisk-sundial is the closest Pliny comes to relating architectural elements to human beings; an obelisk was relocated to the Campus Martius, he notes, but for it to measure time accurately, the mathematician responsible for the project added a globe to its crown, having observed how a man’s head gave definition to his shadow.83 Pliny rarely employs Greek architectural terms or Vitruvius’s specialist vocabulary, thereby making his account intelligible to a broader readership.84 Pliny does not present a thorough survey of architectural practice in the manner of Vitruvius; his focus is directed towards architecture’s connection with the natural world, and those sections that he does take from De architectura are simplified or amplified to suit his needs. Words often deployed in De architectura are either restricted in their application or wholly absent in the Naturalis historia. Of the triad of firmitas, utilitas and venustas – concepts at the core of Vitruvian theory85 – only firmitas and utilitas are mentioned by Pliny in an architectural context: firmitas appears in connection with Rome’s sewers and refers to their physical integrity;86 utilitas with respect to the benefits conferred by the Lighthouse on sailors off the coast of Alexandria.87 Venustas, however, belongs to the realm of painting; works by the Greek artist Apelles possessed venustas, Pliny writes, and with this delightful grace he surpassed his peers.88 Similarly, Pliny pays little heed to the key components of architectural composition as outlined by Vitruvius near the beginning of De architectura. Of the six Vitruvian precepts – ordinatio, dispositio, eurythmia, symmetria, decor and distributio 89 – three fail to appear at all in the Naturalis historia. Those that do are employed in very different contexts: for Pliny, symmetria denotes the compositional harmony achieved by sculptors and painters rather than by 82 Ibid., XXXVI.lvi.179. 83 Ibid., XXXVI.xv.72. A point made in McEwen (2003), 248 – 249. 84 When Pliny does use Greek words, he usually explains their meaning – e. g., NH, XXXVI.iv.30: ‘pteron vocavere circumitum’; XXXVI.xix.88: ‘aliae rursus extra murum labyrinthi aedificiorum moles; pteron appellant.’ On Vitruvius’s highly technical and occasionally opaque terminology see Callebat and Fleury (1995). 85 DA, I.iii.2. 86 NH, XXXVI.xxiv.105: ‘[…] et tamen obnixa firmitas resistit’. 87 Ibid., XXXVI.xviii.83: ‘usus eius nocturno navium cursu ignes ostendere ad praenuntianda vada portusque introitum’. 88 Ibid., XXXV.xxxvi.79: ‘praecipua eius in arte venustas fuit, cum eadem aetate maximi pictores essent; quorum opera cum admiraretur, omnibus conlaudatis deesse illam suam venerem dicebat, quam Graeci w²qita vocant’. See also XXXV.xxxvi.67 (Parrhasius); XXXV.xxxvi.111 (Nicophanes). 89 DA, I.ii.1 – 9.

78

Peter Fane-Saunders

architects,90 while decor connotes one of the physical qualities of precious stones91 or the judicious display of portrait-shields on public buildings;92 the term dispositio retains only the faintest trace of its Vitruvian sense of ‘overall compositional arrangement’, being used by Pliny to indicate the careful placement of individual ceiling rafters.93 The differences even extend into the relationship between image and text. Vitruvius famously mentions at various stages in his treatise the existence of forma and schemata that are meant to facilitate the reading’s understanding;94 ten diagrams were intended to accompany the work, all but one of which was lost in transmission during the Middle Ages.95 Pliny discourages the inclusion of images; they cause confusion, he insists, and lead to mistakes when the manuscript is being copied.96 What, then, can one learn from Pliny’s reading of De architectura? A letter written by his nephew indicates that Pliny was an academic magpie.97 During his bath and at every meal, according to the letter, a slave would read a text to Pliny while another would take notes at his instruction. As a result, he amassed a vast number of notebooks comprising excerpts from a large body of literature, mixed with his own observations and interpretations.98 There is no reason to believe that Pliny treated Vitruvius’s treatise any differently; Vitruvius would have been a bathing companion, so to speak, his work being carefully scoured for material that could then be adapted and integrated into the relevant volumes of the Naturalis historia – Books XVI on trees, XXXV on earth and XXXVI on stone. There are clearly considerable differences between the texts, not least in the level of technical proficiency. Pliny had little – if any – understanding of the 90 NH, XXXIV.xix.58 (Myron); XXXIV.xix.65 (Lysippus); XXXV.xxxvi.67 (Parrhasius); XXXV.xxxvi.107 (Asclepiodorus); XXXV.xl.128, 129 (Euphranor). 91 Ibid., XXXVII.i.1; XXXVII.xi.44; XXXVII.xl.121. 92 Ibid., XXXV.iii.12. 93 Ibid., XXXVI.xxiii.100: ‘Cyzici et buleuterium vocant aedificium amplum, sine ferreo clavo ita disposita contignatione ut eximantur trabes sine fulturis ac reponantur’. 94 DA, I.vi.12 (wind-rose and mapping of the city); III.iii.13 (column entasis); III.iv.5 (creation of scamilli impares); III.v.8 (design of the Ionic volute); V.iv.1, V.v.6, VI.i.7 (tonal system of Aristoxenus); VIII.v.3 (surveyor’s level); IX.praef.5 (Plato’s theorem of duplicating an area of space); IX.praef.8 (construction of steps in a staircase); X.vi.4 (design of a water screw based on the theorem of Pythagoras). 95 The earliest surviving schema is the wind-rose illustrated in a 9th-century copy of the DA (MS London, BL, Harl. 2767, 16v). See esp. Haselberger (1989). 96 NH, XXV.iv.8-v.9. The same opinion would later be held by Galen in his De simplicium medicamentorum temperamentis ac facultatibus, VI.1. On this topic see Carpo (1998), 155 n. 18. 97 Epistulae, III.v.10 – 11. 98 On Pliny the Elder’s numerous notebooks see ibid., III.v.17.

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

79

practical side of architectural design and construction, and neither would most of his intended readers. The detailed passages in De architectura have, accordingly, been simplified, and the theoretical content jettisoned. Space is given instead to architectural marvels, since mirabilia constitute one of Pliny’s main interests over the course of his treatise. And yet, of all the Latin authors to address the subject of architecture subsequent to Vitruvius, it was Pliny who, arguably, did the most to perpetuate the Vitruvian tradition – through the passages that he borrowed from De architectura. The works of Pliny and Vitruvius began to be consulted alongside each other shortly after the text of the Naturalis historia was first placed in circulation,99 but Pliny’s writings were the more popular during the Middle Ages.100 And it would be Pliny’s text that, centuries later in Renaissance Italy, would be used to reconstruct some of the many corrupt passages in manuscripts of Vitruvius’s treatise.101

Bibliography Alberti, Leon Battista, L’architettura: “De re aedificatoria”, hg. u. übersetzt (ital.) v. Giovanni Orlandi / Paolo Portoghesi, 2 Bde., Milano 1966. Barresi, Mimmarosa, “Vitruvio e Plinio il Vecchio: per una lettura comparata”, in: Quaderni di storia dell’architettura e restauro 1 (1989), 43 – 50. Beagon, Mary, Roman Nature: The Thought of Pliny the Elder, Oxford 1992. Borst, Arno, Das Buch der Naturgeschichte. Plinius und seine Leser im Zeitalter des Pergaments, Heidelberg 1994. Callebat, Louis / Fleury, Philippe (Hg.), Dictionnaire des termes techniques du “De architectura” de Vitruve, Hildesheim 1995. Cam, Marie-Thérèse, “Sidoine Apollinaire, lecteur de Vitruve”, in: Latomus 62 (2003), 139 – 155. Carey, Sorcha, “The Problem of Totality: Collecting Greek Art, Wonders and Luxury in Pliny the Elder’s ,Natural History‘”, in: Journal of the History of Collections 12 (2000), 1 – 13. Carey, Sorcha, Pliny’s Catalogue of Culture: Art and Empire in the “Na t u ra l Hi s t o r y”, Oxford 2003. Carpo, Mario, Architettura dell’età della stampa. Oralità, scrittura, libro stampato e riproduzione meccanica dell’immagine nella storia delle teorie architettoniche, Milano 1998. 99 Frontinus, De aquaeductu urbis Romae, I.xxv.1 – 2 [Vitruvius]; I.xvi.1: ‘Tot aquarum tam multis necessariis molibus pyramidas videlicet otiosas compares aut cetera inertia sed fama celebrata opera Graecorum.’ Cf. NH, XXXVI.xvi.75: ‘Dicantur obiter et pyramides in eadem Aegypto, regum pecuniae otiosa ac stulta ostentatio’. 100 On the mediaeval Plinian and Vitruvian traditions see Borst (1994) and Schuler (1999) respectively. 101 On the role of the NH in establishing Fra Giocondo’s 1511 edition of DA see Ciapponi (1984), 81 – 82.

80

Peter Fane-Saunders

Ciapponi, Lucia A., “Fra Giocondo da Verona and His Edition of Vitruvius”, in: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 47 (1984), 72 – 90. Citroni Marchetti, Sandra, Plinio il Vecchio e la tradizione del moralismo romano, Pisa 1991. Citroni Marchetti, Sandra, La scienza della natura per un intellettuale romano: studi su Plinio il Vecchio, Pisa 2011. Conte, Gian Biagio, “L’inventario del mondo. Ordine e linguaggio della natura nell’opera di Plinio il Vecchio”, in: Pliny the Elder, Storia naturale, hg. u. übersetzt (ital.) v. Antonio Corso et al., 5 Bde., Torino 1982 – 88 (I, XVII-XLVII). Cotta Ramosino, Laura, Plinio il Vecchio e la tradizione storica di Roma nella “Naturalis historia”, Alessandria 2004. Courrént, Mireille, “,Non est mirandum‘. Vitruve et la résistance à l’étonnement”, in: “Mirabilia” – Conceptions et représentations de l’extraordinaire dans le monde antique, Actes du colloque international, Lausanne, 20 – 22 mars 2003, hg. v. Olivier Bianchi / Olivier Thévenaz, Berne 2004, 265 – 278. Courrént, Mireille, “D e a rc h i t e c t i s c i e n t i a”. Idée de nature et théorie de l’art dans le “D e a rc h i t e c t u ra” de Vitruve, Caen 2011. DeLaine, Janet, “The Temple of Hadrian at Cyzicus and Roman Attitudes to Exceptional Construction”, in: Papers of the British School at Rome 70 (2002), 205 – 230. Detlefsen, Detlef, “Vitruvius als Quelle des Plinius”, in: Philologus 31 (1872), 385 – 434. Edwards, Catharine / Woolf, Greg, “Cosmopolis: Rome as World City”, in: Rome the Cosmopolis, ed. Catharine Edwards / Greg Woolf, Cambridge 2003, 1 – 20. Faventinus, Marcus Cetius, “,De diversis fabricis architectonicae‘”, ed. Valentin Rose, in: Hugh Plommer, Vitruvius and Later Roman Building Manuals, London 1973, 39 – 85. Geertman, Herman, “Teoria e attualità della progettistica architettonica di Vitruvio”, in: Le Projet de Vitruve. Objet, destinataires et réception du “De architectura”, Actes du colloque international organisé par l’École Française de Rome, l’Institut de Recherche sur l’Architecture Antique du CNRS et la Scuola Normale Superiore de Pise (Rome, 26 – 27 mars 1993), Rome 1994, 7 – 30. Gros, Pierre, “Vie et mort de l’art hellénistique selon Vitruve et Pline”, in: Revue des études latines 56 (1978), 289 – 313. Haselberger, Lothar, “Die Zeichnungen in Vitruvs ,De architectura‘. Zur Illustration antiker Schriften über das Konstruktionwesen”, in: “Munus non ingratum”. Proceedings of the International Symposium on Vitruvius’ “D e a rc h i t e c t u ra” and the Hellenistic and Republican Architecture, Leiden, 20 – 23 January 1987, ed. Herman Geertman / Jan J. de Jong, Leiden 1989, 69 – 71. Isager, Jacob, “Plinio il Vecchio e le meraviglie di Roma: ,Mirabilia in terris‘ e ,Romae miracula‘ nel XXXVI libro della ,Naturalis Historia‘”, in: Analecta Romana Instituti Danici15 (1986), 37 – 50. Isager, Jacob, Pliny on Art and Society: The Elder Pliny’s Chapters on the History of Art, Odense 1991. McEwen, Indra Kagis, Vitruvius: Writing the Body of Architecture, Cambridge, MA 2003. Murphy, Trevor, “Pliny the Elder’s ,Natural History’”, in: The Empire in the Encyclopedia, Oxford 2004. Naas, Valerie, Le Projet encyclopédique de Pline l’Ancien, Rome 2002. Naas, Valerie, “,Opera mirabilia in terris‘ et ,Romae operum miracula‘ dans l’,Histoire Naturelle‘ de Pline l’Ancien”, in: “Mi ra b i l i a” – Conceptions et représentations de

Pliny the Elder: an Early Reader of Vitruvius

81

l’extraordinaire dans le monde antique, Actes du colloque international, Lausanne, 20 – 22 mars 2003, hg. v. Olivier Bianchi / Olivier Thévenaz, Berne 2004, 253 – 264. Pellati, Francesco, “Vitruvio e la fortuna del suo trattato nel mondo antico”, in: Rivista di filologia e di istruzione classica 49 (1921), 305 – 335. Pliny the Elder, Storia naturale, hg. u. übers. (ital.) v. Antonio Corso et al., 5 Bde., Torino 1982 – 88. Ritschl, Friedrich, “De M. Terentii Varronis disciplinarum libris commentarius”, in: Friedrich Ritschl, Kleine philologische Schriften (Opuscula philologica 3), Leigzig 1887, 352 – 402. Rutledge, Steven H., Ancient Rome as a Museum. Power, Identity, and the Culture of Collecting, Oxford 2012. Shanzer, Danuta R., “Augustine’s Disciplines: ,Silent diutius Musae Varronis?‘”, in: Augustine and the Disciplines: from Cassiciacum to Confessions, ed. Karla Pollmann / Mark Vessey, Oxford 2005, 69 – 112. Schott, Hermann, “De septem orbis spectaculis quaestiones”(Beigabe zum Jahresbericht der Königl. Studienanstalt Ansbach für 1890/91), Ansbach 1891. Schuler, Stefan, Vitruv im Mittelalter. Die Rezeption von “ D e a rc h i t e c t u ra” von der Antike bis in die frühe Neuzeit, Cologne 1999. Thoenes, Christof, and Hubertus Günther, “Gli ordini architettonici: rinascita o invenzione?”, in: Roma e l’antico nell’arte e nella cultura del Cinquecento, hg. v. Marcello Fagiolo, Rome 1985, 261 – 310. Vitruvius, De architectura, hg. u. übers. (ital.) v. Pierre Gros, Antonio Corso / Elisa Romano, 2 Bde., Turin 1997. Vtruvius, On Architecture, ed. and tr. (English) Richard Schofield, London 2009. Wallace-Hadrill, Andrew, “Pliny the Elder and Man’s Unnatural History”, in: Greece and Rome 37 (1990), 80 – 96. Williamson, George, “Mucianus and a Touch of the Miraculous: Pilgrimage and Tourism in Roman Asia Minor”, in: Pilgrimage in Graeco-Roman and Early Christian Antiquity: Seeing the Gods, ed. Jas´ Elsner / Ian Rutherford, Oxford 2005, 219 – 252.

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien Christof Thoenes Es gibt in der Geschichte der westlichen Architektur keine Stilwende, die so eindeutig zu datieren und zu lokalisieren wäre wie die von der Gotik zu Renaissance. Seit dem Bau des Findelhauses und der Alten Sakristei von San Lorenzo in Florenz, zwischen 1419 und 1429, ist eine neue Architektursprache in der Welt – sie wird sich im Laufe eines Jahrhunderts durchsetzen und die Welt verändern –, und damit eine neue Klasse von Inhalten, die durch Architektur transportiert werden. Welche Rolle hat bei diesem Vorgang Vitruv gespielt? Wäre vielleicht alles anders gekommen, hätte man damals, um 1420, den Vitruv nicht gekannt – jenen Text, dessen Erhaltung, wie die aller antiken Texte, ja letztlich ein Zufall war, und der daher ohne weiteres auch weggedacht werden kann? So zu fragen, scheint abwegig, denn ein Studium Vitruvs ist zweifelsfrei nachweisbar allein in der theoretischen Literatur, und die setzt erst um die Mitte des Quattrocento ein. Dennoch wäre zu prüfen, ob nicht die gebaute Architektur der ersten Jahrhunderthälfte Züge aufweist, die auf eine Auseinandersetzung mit dem antiken Autor schließen lassen. Dieser Frage ist mein Vortrag gewidmet – ich sage das hier vorweg, weil Sie es zunächst vielleicht gar nicht merken. Denn ich werde einige Umwege einschlagen müssen, um auf den Kern des Problems zu kommen, und die Antwort wird nicht so eindeutig ausfallen, wie ich selber gehofft hätte.1 Die Vitruv-Rezeption des Quattrocento spielte sich auf zwei deutlich unterschiedenen Ebenen ab: der der Bautechnik oder Baupraxis, im weitesten Sinne, und der des „disegno“, also der Formgebung. Was auf der ersten Ebene geschah, lässt sich mit dem Stichwort „Wissenstransfer“ umschreiben: Vitruv wurde, wie andere antike Autoren, ausgebeutet als Quelle des von den Alten erarbeiteten und seither verlorengegangenen Wissens und Könnens auf dem Feld der Planung und Ausführung von Architektur, der Baustoffkunde, der Mauertechnik, des Maschinenwesens und aller möglichen einschlägigen Naturwissenschaften.

1

Die Form des Vortragsmanuskripts wurde beibehalten. Ausführlichere Nachweise finden sich in meinen im Literaturverzeichnis aufgeführten früheren Versuchen.

84

Christof Thoenes

Diesen Schatz zu heben, bedurfte es der Gelehrsamkeit der Humanisten, aber deren Kriterien waren nicht fachspezifischer Art. So betont selbst Alberti, er schreibe keineswegs nur für Bauleute, sondern zur Belehrung und Unterhaltung aller Studiosi, die ihr Wissen bereichern wollten.2 Hier ein paar Proben aus „De re aedificatoria“, beliebig herausgegriffen: Die Inder bauen ihre Häuser aus den Rippen der Haifische, die Neurier (ein von Herodot erwähnter skythischer Volksstamm) aus Knochen, die Bewohner von Kairo aus Salzklumpen. Ein Dach aus Zedern in Utica hat 1.278 Jahre lang gehalten. In Kolchis träufelt Honig aus dem Laub der Bäume, nach dessen Genuss man leblos niedersinkt und einen ganzen Tag für tot gilt. Gegen Schlangen, Mücken, Wanzen, Fliegen, Mäuse, Flöhe, Spinnen gibt es Mittel in schier unglaublicher Zahl, darunter die haarsträubendsten (eine Aufzählung über zweieinhalb Seiten, in Buch X). Im Gebiet von Neapel hört man die Grillen nicht. Kreta bringt keine Nachtvögel hervor. Zu Rom geht in den Tempel des Herkules weder eine Fliege noch ein Hund hinein. Und so weiter und so fort.3 Wir lesen über solche Stellen hinweg, aber Alberti hielt all dies offenbar für nicht weniger wissens- und mitteilenswert als die zahlreichen von ihm gesammelten bautechnischen Informationen. Dahinter steht eine Frage von einigem Tiefgang, nämlich die nach dem Verhältnis von Humanismus und Fortschritt. Denn die Fülle der aus den alten Texten gewonnenen Kenntnisse implizierte nicht notwendig auch einen Zuwachs an Rationalität; mitgeführt wurde nebenbei ein kräftiger Schub antiken Aberglaubens, der auf durchaus aufnahmebereite frühneuzeitliche Gemüter traf. Auch das gehört in das Kapitel „Wissensgeschichte“. Die Frage des Fortschritts stellt sich aber noch unter einem anderen Aspekt, und der ist gerade für die Architektur von Bedeutung. Es waren literarisch ambitionierte Baupraktiker wie Francesco di Giorgio Martini oder Fra Giocondo, die erkannten, dass es Gebiete gab, auf denen Technik und Wissenschaft in der jüngeren Vergangenheit sich weiterentwickelt hatten. Sie brachten die Überzeugung von der unbedingten Überlegenheit der Antike ins Wanken. Francesco di Giorgio, selbst aus dem Handwerk hervorgegangen, wird in seinen beiden Architekturtraktaten nicht müde zu betonen, dass die antike Fortifikationstechnik durch die Erfindung der Feuerwaffen nutzlos geworden sei; Fra Giocondo, hochberühmt als Vitruv-Kenner wie auch als Bauingenieur, lässt in seinem „Vitruvius cum figuris“ gewisse offensichtlich überholte Maschinen unillustriert, oder modernisiert ihren Mechanismus.4 Umgekehrt konnte es geschehen, dass der sich ausbreitende Vitruvianismus technische Einsichten der nachantiken Zeit blockierte. Hatten noch Alberti und Filarete um die bausta2 3 4

Alberti II, 9 (ed. cit., I, 157 f.); Vitr. I, 1, 18 (ed. cit., 36). Alberti II, VI u. passim. Vgl. Thoenes (2000), 115, Anm. 8.

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

85

tischen Vorzüge des Spitzbogens gewusst, so erklärt Raffael 1519 den Rundbogen nicht nur für schöner, sondern auch für konstruktiv überlegen.5 Ich spreche von Einzelfällen, wohlgemerkt, und hüte mich, allgemeine Folgerungen zu ziehen; das Gebiet ist komplex, und seine Erforschung hat eigentlich jetzt erst begonnen. Ob sie für unsere Fragestellung von Belang ist, bleibt abzuwarten; einstweilen sehe ich keinen Anlass, James Ackermans These von der Renaissance als einer nicht durch technische Innovationen verursachten oder angestoßenen architektonischen Stilwende zu revidieren.6 Der eigentliche Paradigmenwechsel vollzog sich auf der zweiten Ebene, der des Entwurfs: Es galt, von der „gotisch“-germanischen Barbarei zur eigenen, national-römischen Baukunst zurückzufinden. In diesem Projekt musste Vitruv eine Schlüsselrolle zufallen, als einem authentisch antiken Autor, der – ein Glücksfall besonderer Art – ein Lehrbuch der Architektur hinterlassen hatte. In ihm würde zu lesen sein, im Klartext, wonach man suchte. Wir finden diese Überzeugung explizit formuliert in Texten des Cinquecento, wie etwa in Raffaels gemeinsam mit Baldassar Castiglione verfasstem „Brief“ an Leo X. über die römischen Monumente.7 Sich über die antik-römische Architektur zu verbreitern, hielt er für überflüssig: „Non è necessario parlar dell’architettura romana … essendone già tanto excellentemente scripto per Vitruvio“.8 An diesem Satz ist zweierlei bemerkenswert. Einmal die Vorstellung, die klassisch-römische Architektur habe bis in die Spätantike einem fixen Regelkanon gehorcht – „tutti d’una ragione“ heißt es an anderer Stelle von den römischen Bauten, bis hin zum Konstantinsbogen –, und diese „ragione“ sei vorab fixiert worden von einem Autor, der zur Zeit des Augustus gelebt hat, also am Beginn der Epoche (was Raffael wusste).9 Das zweite ist das Vertrauen in die Anwendbarkeit dieses Kanons auf die eigene Praxis: Allein die verständnisvolle Lektüre Vitruvs – den Raffael ins Italienische übersetzen ließ – würde genügen, die Baukunst auf den rechten Weg zurückzuführen. „Secondo le regole di Vitruvio“ wurde im Sprachgebrauch der Zeit zum Synonym für Architektur „all’antica“.10 Kritik kam hier von Seiten der Architekten, vor allem des Sangallo-Kreises, die die in- und außerhalb Roms erhaltenen Monumente studierten, vermaßen 5 6 7 8 9

Alberti III, 13 (ed. cit., I, 23); Tigler (1963), 97 – 100; Di Teodoro (2003), 73. Ackerman (1954). Di Teodoro (2003). Ibid., 84. Ibid., 71 f.: „Tutti erano d’una ragione“, „colla medema ragione de li primi“. Der Konstantinsbogen ist, was die Architektur angeht, immer noch „bello e ben fatto“, während seine unterschiedlich datierbaren Reliefs die im Lauf der Kaiserzeit erfolgte „declinatione“ der anderen Künste („le lettere, la sculptura, la pittura e quasi tutte le altre arti“) dokumentieren. 10 Aretino, ed. cit. II, 147; vgl. dazu Lupo (1994/95).

86

Christof Thoenes

und dabei immer wieder auf von Vitruv abweichende Befunde stießen. Eine Folge war die Einsicht in die Historizität der klassischen Architektur, wie sie etwa in gelegentlichen Bemerkungen Serlios zum Ausdruck kommt. Schon den Diokletiansthermen sähe man an, schreibt er, dass sie nicht mehr in der Zeit der guten Architekten entstanden seien („per quanto si vede, quest’edificio non fu fatto a quel felice secolo de’ buoni architettori“).11 So verwies Stilkritik („si vede“) auf das gleiche Dekadenz-Phänomen, das schon die Latinisten des Treund Quattrocento beschäftigt hatte: Klassik ist, historisch gesehen, nichts als ein Moment, auf ihn folgt Verfall. Um so energischer insistiert Serlio, im gleichen Buch, auf der „dottrina di Vitruvio“ als „guida, et regola infallibile, sacrosanta et inviolabile“12 – ein frühes Zeugnis jener durch keinerlei Empirie zu erschütternde Intoleranz, die den Vitruvianismus der Folgezeit kennzeichnen wird. Kehren wir ins 15. Jahrhundert zurück, so finden wir diese Einstellung nicht. Für Alberti und seine Zeitgenossen war Vitruv ein Text unter anderen und damit, zunächst, Objekt philologischer Arbeit.13 Welche Schwierigkeit hier zu meistern waren, lehrt ein Blick auf mittelalterliche Vitruv-Manuskripte, wie sie damals vorlagen: fragmentarisch, konfus in Anordnung und Abfolge der Bücher, ohne gliedernde Absätze und Untertitel, vom Zustand des Textes zu schweigen. So überrascht es nicht, dass von den schreibenden Architekten des Quattrocento einzig Alberti den Vitruv-Text wirklich verstand, eben weil er von Hause aus kein Architekt war, sondern Humanist und Gelehrter. Dies verschaffte ihm seine Souveränität gegenüber einem Buch, das er keineswegs übersetzen, und auch nicht edieren, sondern durch ein neues, verbessertes Lehrbuch ersetzen wollte. So ist der berühmte Zornesausbruch in der Vorrede zu Albertis VI. Buch zu verstehen, Vitruv hätte „lieber gar nicht schreiben sollen als so, dass wir es nicht verstehen („ut par sit, non scripsisse, qui ita scripserit ut non intelligamus“)14 : es ist der Ärger über die schlechte Arbeit eines Kollegen. Die Traktatisten der Folgezeit schrieben in Volgare, und damit trat das Sprachproblem in der Vordergrund. Emblematisch ist hier wieder die Figur Francesco di Giorgios, der sich zum Studium Vitruvs verpflichtet fühlte, ohne eine philologische Ausbildung genossen zu haben: Es war, so seine bekannte Klage, als habe er noch einmal sprechen lernen müssen („retrovare quasi come di nuovo la forza del parlare“).15 Andrerseits barg jene von den Humanisten geschlagene Sprachbrücke zwischen Antike und Gegenwart auch eine Gefahr, nämlich die einer illusionären Gleichsetzung beider Kulturen. In der Tat gleicht 11 Serlio, fol. 95 r; dagegen noch Raffael: „la architettura è nobile e ben intesa“. Di Teodoro (2003), 72. 12 Serlio, fol. 69 v, 99 v, 112 v u. passim; vgl. dazu Thoenes (1989), 12. 13 Zum Folgenden vgl. Pagliara (1986). 14 Alberti VI, 1 (ed. cit., II, 441). 15 Francesco di Giorgio, II, 295 f.

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

87

ja die Welt der „De re aedificatoria“ mit ihren Theatern und Thermen, Basiliken, Amphitheatern und Zirkusarenen eher einem humanistischen Utopia als einer italienischen Stadt des Quattrocento. Demgegenüber trifft der NichtHumanist Francesco di Giorgio eine klare Unterscheidung: auf der einen Seite die „regule“ für das architektonische Gliederwerk, die er aus den „più autentici libri, e specialmente da Vitruvio“ gewonnen habe – auf der anderen die „Grundformen der Tempel und der Gebäude“, die auf eigner Erfindung beruhen, und das heißt eben der Neuzeit angehören.16 Was hier in Bewusstsein tritt (oder wenigstens aufdämmert), ist die historische Differenz der Epochen. In ihr gründet die letzte und fundamentalste Schwierigkeit des Vitruv-Studiums in der Renaissance, und der Genesis einer neuen Architektur „all’antica“. Jedes Lehrbuch bezieht sich auf einen zeitlich oder kulturell vorgegebenen Verständnishorizont. Was sich für den Zeitgenossen von selbst versteht, wird nicht gelehrt. Wir heutigen lesen Vitruv mit dem Wissenshintergrund von Jahrhunderten altertumskundlicher Forschung. Das galt nicht für einen Architekten des Quattrocento. Lateinkundig oder nicht, verstand er jedenfalls das Wort „templum“ als das, was im Italienischen ja auch „tempio“ heißt: ein Gebäude, in dem Kulthandlungen stattfinden können – wie etwa das Pantheon, oder die (vermeintlichen) Tempel des Friedens, des Bacchus, der Minerva Madica und so fort. Von solchen Bauwerken aber handelt Vitruv gerade nicht. Sein Paradigma war, wie bekannt, der Peripteraltempel griechisch-hellenistischer Prägung: ein Typus, mit dem die quattrocentesken Vitruv-Leser nichts anzufangen wussten, der aber auch dem Stand der römischen Architektur zu Vitruvs eigener Zeit längst nicht mehr entsprach.17 Die Doktrin des Lehrbuchs und der in Rom zu studierende monumentale Bestand passten nicht aufeinander. Mit dieser – von ihr zunächst undurchschauten – Paradoxie hatte die Renaissance fertig zu werden. Sehe ich recht, finden Spuren dieser Problematik sich in Albertis Traktat. Wir wissen so gut wie nichts über dessen Entstehung, aber vieles spricht dafür, dass sie sich über einen längeren Zeitraum erstreckte, und dass das Konzept des Autors sich dabei weiterentwickelt hat, im Sinn einer fortschreitenden Emanzipation von seinem antiken Modell und der Einbeziehung eigener Praxiserfahrung. So werden im I. Buch, Kap. 10, ganz theoretisch-lehrbuchmässig die Elemente des Bauens behandelt, beginnend mit einer Definition der Wand („de parietum descriptio“).18 Aber schon im zweiten Absatz wird daraus die Beschreibung einer Säulenreihe („ordo columnarum“ – „ordo“ heißt hier einfach „Reihe“). So eine Reihe nämlich sei nichts anders als eine mehrfach durch16 Ibid., 297. Zu Francesco di Giorgio vgl. auch Betts (2000). 17 Zum vitruvianischen Tempel vgl. Gros (1975). 18 Alberti I, 10 (ed. cit., I, 69 f.).

88

Christof Thoenes

brochene Wand („paries pluribus in locis perfixus adapertusque“).19 Warum sagt er das hier? Könnte es sein, dass Alberti beim Schreiben noch den Vitruv-Text über Tempel vor Augen hatte, deren Außenwände ja in der Tat aus Säulenreihen bestehen? Wie dem immer sei, von Säulen ist dann des Langen und Breiten die Rede, und erst am Schluss des ganzen Kapitels kommt Alberti auf die im Sinn seines Lehrkurses eigentlich relevante Frage zurück: die nach der Wandstärke. Seine Antwort: man soll sich nach der vorstehend erörterten Dimensionierung der Säulen richten (und dabei lieber etwas zulegen als sparen).20 Nichts weiter. Die Säule taucht dann wieder auf in Albertis VI. Buch, nun aber in einer ganz neue Rolle: nämlich nicht mehr als tragendes Element, sondern als Schmuck, und zwar als der wichtigste Schmuck des Gebäudes („primarium ornamentum“).21 Der Begriff stammt, wie bekannt, aus der Rhetorik: „ornatus“ ist der nicht-zweckorientierte Bestandteil der Rede. Diesem Bereich ist nun die ganze zweite Hälfte von Albertis Traktat gewidmet, und es sieht aus, als hätte damit bei ihm selbst ein neues Konzept sich durchgesetzt. Denn das VI. Buch beginnt mit einer neuen Vorrede, in der die bisherige Arbeit resümiert und ein Prospekt der noch zu leistenden entworfen wird. Bisher sei es um Zweckmäßigkeit und Festigkeit der Gebäude gegangen, jetzt solle von ihrer Schönheit („gratia et amoenitas“) die Rede sein.22 Man denkt hier sofort (nicht den Worten, aber der Sache nach) an die bekannte Begriffs-Triade Vitruvs: firmitas, utilitas, venustas. Aber was bei dem antiken Autor nur als einleitende Floskel auftaucht (und vermutlich zeitgenössischer Topos war), wird bei Alberti zum Leitgedanken des ganzen folgenden Textes: „ornatus“ als höchste und eigenste Aufgabe des Architekten. Die Wendung ist radikal, aber sie kam, historisch gesehen, nicht unvorbereitet. Das Auseinandertreten von Baukonstruktion und -dekoration, oder, anders gesagt, die Unabhängigkeit des Dekors von der Mauerstruktur ist in der italienischen Baupraxis seit dem Mittelalter angelegt: sie findet ihre Entsprechung in der Arbeitsorganisation der Bauhütten mit ihrer Trennung von Muratori einerseits, Scarpellini oder Lapicidi andrerseits. Es entspricht dieser Tradition, wenn Alberti im VI. und VII. Buch seines Traktats die Funktion von Säulen bzw. Pilastern im Kontext von Wandverkleidungen erörtert.23 Sein Terminus dafür ist „opus affictum“, also angebrachtes, äußerlich aufgelegtes Gliederwerk. Er umschreibt präzise jene in sich widerspruchsvolle Kombination von Mauerstatik und – letztlich aus dem Holzbau hergeleiteter – Gliedertektonik, die an den Theatern, Amphitheatern, Triumphbögen Roms zu beob19 20 21 22 23

Ibid. (ed. cit., I, 71). Ibid. (ed. cit., I, 73). Alberti VI, 13 (ed. cit., II, 521). Alberti VI, 1 (ed. cit., II, 445). Zum Folgenden Feuer-Toth (1978); vgl. auch Thoenes (2002), 200 – 202.

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

89

achten war und die auch Vitruv wohl schon praktiziert, aber eben nicht mehr theoretisch behandelt hat. Dieses Defizit auszufüllen wurde zur Aufgabe der Renaissance-Theorie. Was dabei herauskam, lässt sich mit dem Stichwort „Säulenordnung“ umschreiben. Säulenordnung, Sie wissen es, war das Mantra der Vitruvianer, die ihre im Lauf der Jahrhunderte immer weiter verfeinerten Regelwerke durch die Berufung auf den „Gesetzgeber“ der antiken Baukunst zu legitimieren suchten, und sich dabei immer ausschließlicher auf die Bildung des Gliederwerks konzentrierten. Was ihnen aus dem Blickfeld geriet, war das Faktum, dass es Säulenordnungen bei Vitruv gar nicht gibt – weder das Wort, noch die Sache. Wovon Vitruv handelt (in seinem dritten und vierten Buch), sind Tempel unterschiedlicher Stile („genera“), und für die gibt er Konstruktionsanweisungen, vor allem im Hinblick auf die Dimensionierung und Proportionierung der Teile. Die Kenntnis ihrer Konfiguration wird vorausgesetzt. Um sie beschrieben zu finden, müssen wir den ersten neuzeitlichen Traktat heranziehen, eben den des Alberti. Auch er kennt das Wort „Ordnung“ noch nicht – es wird, im Sinne von „Säulenordnungen“ (italienisch „ordine di colonne“ oder „d’architettura“) erst im Lauf der Cinquecento in Gebrauch kommen –, aber was er unter „columnatio“ versteht, und seinem Kapitel von den Tempeln vorausschickt, ist genau die Definition, die bei Vitruv fehlt, und die Vitruv nicht zu geben brauchte. „Columnationum partes sunt“, heißt es da, und dann zählt er auf, von unten nach oben: Sockel (Piedestal), Basis, Säulenschaft, Kapitell, und die drei Teile des Gebälks, Architrav, Fries und Gesims.24 Die Trockenheit der Beschreibung täuscht hinweg über die historische Bedeutung der Stelle: es ist die erste uns bekannte sprachliche Formulierung des Schemas, auf dem die „Säulenordnungsarchitektur“ der folgenden Jahrhunderte beruht. Dass Säulen und Gebälke, vertikale Stützen und horizontal gelagerte Lasten Teile seines Systems bilden, erscheint uns als trivial. Aber seit wann war es das, oder vielmehr, seit wann wurde es wieder so gesehen? An diesem Punkt kommen wir – endlich – auf unsere Ausgangsfrage zurück, die nach den Anfängen der Renaissance-Architektur. Denn Alberti, 1428 aus der Verbannung nach Florenz zurückkehrend, fand dort ja vor, was Brunelleschi inzwischen gebaut hatte: „columnationes“ in Reinkultur (wenngleich in un-antiker Kombination mit Bögen).25 Ihrem Schöpfer widmete Alberti 1436 sein Buch über die Malerei.26 Filarete, der seinen Architekturtraktat um 1460 niederschrieb, datierte die Rückkehr der Baukunst zur klassischen Formensprache im Sinne Vergils und Catulls auf die Zeit „vor 30 oder 40 Jahren“, also den Moment Brunelleschis27; 24 25 26 27

Alberti VII, 6 (ed. cit., II, 563 f.). Hierzu Thoenes (1981), 465. „A Filippo Brunelleschi“, im Manuskript der Volgare-Fassung. Grayson (1972), 32, 108. Filarete I, 229.

90

Christof Thoenes

Abb. 1. Rom, Pantheon

wir kommen auf seinen Sprachvergleich noch zurück. Und Vasari weist in der Rückschau Brunelleschi seine historische Rolle zu: „Er wurde von Himmel gesandt, um der Architektur die seit Jahrhunderten verlorengegangene neue Form zu geben“.28 Vasaris Formulierung, in sich widersprüchlich, enthält in nuce die historische Paradoxie der Renaissance: die „neue“ Form wäre nichts als die wiedergefundene alte und einzig wahre. Dem hat die neuere Kunstgeschichtsschreibung das Konzept der Entwicklung entgegengestellt. Ihm zufolge wären Renaissancen ein ständig wiederkehrendes Phänomen der westlichen Kunst, Brunelleschis Neuanfang nur eine Stufe in diesem Ablauf, vorbereitet schon in der florentiner Trecento-Gotik, gespeist aus den Quellen lokaler Überlieferung (der „toskanischen Proto-Renaissance“).29 Der historischen Wahrheit kommt dies zweifellos näher, aber trifft es den entscheidenden Punkt? Vergleichen wir drei für ihre Epochen charakteristische Innenräume (Abb. 1 – 3), so müsste nach dem Geschichtsbild Vasaris die Architektur Brunelleschis – bei allen Unter28 Vasari (1878), II, 328. 29 Zur Trecento-Gotik: Klotz (1970), zur Protorenaissance: Onians (1982). Vgl. Auch Trachtenberg (1996).

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

91

Abb. 2. Florenz, Baptisterium

schieden der Gattung und des Formats – dem antiken Bau deutlich näher stehen als dessen mittelalterlichem Derivat; nach der Entwicklungstheorie dagegen müssten der mittelalterliche und der neuzeitliche Bau einander ähneln, der antike schon durch den großen zeitlichen Abstand von ihnen getrennt bleiben. Aber der tatsächliche Eindruck ist doch ein ganz anderer: Pantheon und Baptisterium rücken zusammen, während Brunelleschi sich deutlich absetzt. Es ist, als stünden die beiden älteren Bauten in einem Kontinuum, aus dem der moderne herausgetreten ist, Distanz gewonnen hat. Ich meine, es ist eben die Distanz, aus der heraus Alberti, im Blick auf Vitruv, sein Konzept der „Säulenordnung“ entwickelt hat. Dabei geht es nicht so sehr um die mehr oder minder korrekte Bildung des Details, da sind die Unterschiede gar nicht so groß. Was sich ändert, ist das Verhältnis des Gliedergefüges zu Raum. Im antiken wie im mittelalterlichen Bau bilden Pilaster und Säulen, Gebälke, Bögen und Marmorintarsien, im Baptisterium auch Mosaiken, eine in sich kohärente Schale; wie deutlich immer im Einzelnen artikuliert, bleiben sie eingebettet in eine Textur teils reliefhafter, teil koloristischer Art, die den Raum umhüllt und seine Erscheinung prägt. Grundverschieden die Denkweise Brunelleschis, der das Gliederwerk isoliert, es auf die glatte, neutrale Wandfläche aufbringt und damit seinen Fiktionscha-

92

Christof Thoenes

Abb. 3. S. Lorenzo, Blick ins rechte Seitenschiff

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

93

rakter („opus affictum“) deutlich macht. Die entscheidende Rolle spielt das Gebälk, das – konstruktiv funktionslos, von Pilastern und Konsolen nur optisch gestützt30 – rings um den Raum läuft, Wand- und Gewölbebereich voneinander scheidet und damit unser Raumbild vorgängig definiert. Jene Logik des tektonischen Apparats – die Beziehung von Stütze und Last –, die in der wunderbar lebendigen Architektur des Baptisteriums auftaucht und wieder verschwindet, sich wieder auflöst in der Vielfalt einander überlagernder, übergreifender und durchdringender, halb struktiver halb dekorativer Systeme: Brunelleschi präpariert sie heraus, führt sie vor, abstrakt, formelhaft, doktrinär. Säulen tragen Gebälke: dies auch dann, wenn sie technisch als Bogenträger fungieren, wie in Brunelleschis Basiliken. So läuft in San Lorenzo (Abb. 3) das (fiktive) Gebälk an der Seitenschiffswand entlang, wie in der Sakristei; ihm entspricht in der Mittelschiffsarkade ein zwischen Säulenkapitell und Bogenanfänger eingeschobener, als Gebälkstück profilierter Kämpferblock. Auch hierfür lieferte das Pantheon (und einige andere römische Großbauten) das Modell; nur fällt es dort kaum ins Auge, bleibt eingebunden in den struktivdekorativen Kontext – während Brunelleschi es ostentativ herausstellt, den Systemcharakter demonstriert. Keine Frage: dahinter steht theoretische Reflexion. Wie sie aussah und auf welche Art sie zustande kam, darüber liefern zeitgenössische Texte – leider nur aus zweiter Hand – doch wenigstens ein paar Fingerzeige. In der BrunelleschiVita des Antonio di Tuccio Manetti – postum niedergeschrieben, aber von einem Autor, der Brunelleschi wohl noch persönlich gekannt hat – werden die Rom-Aufenthalte geschildert, die Brunelleschi und Donatello im ersten Jahrzehnt des Quattrocento absolvierten.31 Neben dem Studium der antiken Skulptur hätte Brunelleschi sich speziell für Mauertechnik und Formgebung („simmetrie“) der Romruinen interessiert, und dabei sei ihm „un cierto ordine di membri e di ossa“ aufgegangen – ein „ordine“, der, wie es weiter heißt, von dem zu seiner eigenen Zeit geübten beträchtlich abwich.32 Wir erfahren nichts Näheres, aber worum es ging, war jedenfalls das Gliederwerk der Gebäude (membri e ossa) und gewisse Gesetzmäßigkeiten in seiner Anordnung – „qualche cosa di ragione“, heißt es an anderer Stelle.33 „Ragione“ – jenes Wort, das dann bei Raffael wieder begegnet – erscheint hier als Schlüsselbegriff: er definiert den Unterschied zwischen der Imitation antiker Modelle, wie sie in Toskana durch das Mittelalter hindurch geübt worden war, und der Innovation im Sinne der Renaissance (Vasaris „nuova forma“). Nachahmung muss gesteuert werden durch Ratio, d. h. durch die 30 31 32 33

Die Stoßfugen des Architravs liegen nicht über den Konsolen. Thoenes (1973), 93. Manetti (1976), 64 – 69. Ibid., 64 f. Ibid., 75.

94

Christof Thoenes

Abb. 4. (Alinari). S. Lorenzo, Alte Sakristei

Einsicht in den tektonischen Sinn des klassischen Details. Wo diese fehlt, kommt es zu Anomalien wie dem berühmten rechtwinklig abknickenden Architrav an der Front des Findelhauses: der Tragbalken wird missverstanden als flächenrahmendes Zierglied (Abb. 5). Ein anonymer Autor des 16. Jahrhunderts überliefert (oder erfindet?) die erklärende Anekdote: während einer temporären

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

95

Abb. 5. Florenz, Findelhaus, Detail der Fassade

Abwesenheit Brunelleschis hatte der Werkmeister Francesco della Luna die Arbeit fortgeführt; von Brunelleschi zur Rede gestellt, rechtfertigte der ungelehrte Mann sich mit dem Verweis auf das Baptisterium, wo an den Oktogonkanten der Attika dasselbe passiert (Abb. 6). Brunelleschis sarkastischer Kommentar: „Einen Fehler hat dieses Gebäude, und gerade den hast du hier verewigt“.34 Das Resultat war also nicht mehr oder weniger schön oder hässlich, es war falsch („un errore“); und das heißt, es gab so etwas wie eine Architekturtheorie (Renaissance-Theorie) vor Alberti, und vor dem Einsetzen der Traktatliteratur. Das ist, um es einmal so zu nennen, die These, die ich hier vertrete und zu begründen versuche. Und weiter: Brunelleschis „ars nova“ wäre zu verstehen als Produkt dieser Theorie – also nicht einfach Fortsetzung der in Florenz traditionellen Praxis der Antikenimitation, sondern Neubeginn auf der Ebene rationalen, und das heißt eben auch sprachlich artikulierten Denkens. Ich habe schon Filaretes Vergleich zwischen der neuen Architektur und der Rückkehr zum Latein der klassischen Zeit zitiert: andere, spätere Autoren 34 „Il per che philippo gli disse cosj uno errore era in detto edifitio et l’hai preso et conservatolo“. Anonimo Gaddiano, zit. n. Fabriczy (1892), 448.

96

Christof Thoenes

Abb. 6. Florenz, Baptisterium, Attika

(Serlio, Aretino) sahen das ähnlich.35 Es war der Grundgedanke des Wiederaufstiegs aus Dekadenz und Verwilderung zu neuer Blüte („rinascere“), der Humanisten und Architekten zusammenführte. Wie jene die alten Texte, mussten diese die Monumente studieren, um zur „guten“ Baukunst zurückzufinden.36 Aber das Ziel lag in der Zukunft, nicht in der Vergangenheit; das Latein Ciceros sollte helfen, neue Inhalte auszudrücken, nicht die alten zu repetieren. So abstrahierte Alberti aus Vitruvs Beschreibungen konkreter Strukturen seinen Codex der Säulenordnungen, universal anwendbar auf die Bauaufgaben der Neuzeit. Aber auch ein „Illiteratus“ wie Francesco di Giorgio plagte sich mit dem Studium Vitruvs; in dem immer neu ansetzenden Versuch einer Übersetzung ins Volgare suchte er sich dessen zu vergewissern, was er als Architekt tat. Die Stilbildung selbst vollzog sich im Medium sprachlicher Reflexion. Was war der Beitrag Brunelleschis zu diesem Prozess? In seiner Monographie von 1976 hat Eugenio Battisti37 ihn als Exponent einer neuen Bildungselite wie auch einer politischen Oberschicht behandelt, die, in Abgrenzung gegen volkstümlich-mundartlichen Traditionen, auf ihrer Hochsprache bestand wie auf ihren Idealen von Rationalität, Disziplin und Selbstkontrolle. Es wäre 35 Vgl. Thoenes (2000), 194. 36 Der Architekt soll vorgehen „uti in studiis litterarum“, nämlich die „auctores“ studieren, und zwar „omnes etiam non bonos“; folgen Ratschläge zur Technik der Bauaufnahme. Alberti IX, 10 (ed. cit., II, 855 f.). 37 Battisti (1976).

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

97

demnach mehr als eine Metapher, wenn wir von Brunelleschis neuer „Architektursprache“ reden. Vielmehr wäre diese bewusst als solche konzipiert und, wie Literatur, an ein Publikum adressiert gewesen; was vordem reines Fachgespräch war, wurde Thema eines öffentlichen Diskurses, der von hier aus durch die Jahrhunderte weitergeführt werden sollte.38 In ihm figurierte, was wir „Ordnung“ nennen, als Chiffre gesellschaftlicher Sachverhalte;39 Architektur – nicht als Bild- oder Bedeutungsträger, sondern als Formensystem – wurde zum Medium politischer Kultur. Ist das „Vitruvianismus“? War es die Lektüre des antiken Theoretikers, die Brunelleschi veranlasste, jenem „cierto ordine“ des römischen Gliederwerks auf den Grund zu gehen? Und bedurfte es dieses Anstoßes, um Architektur als intellektuelle, sprachlich lehrbare Disziplin zu verstehen, und darauf eine neue Baukultur zu begründen? War Brunelleschi der erste Vitruvianer? An diesem Punkt bin ich, muss ich gestehen, nicht weitergekommen. Gewiss war der Name Vitruv Gelehrten wie Architekten geläufig, auch vor Poggios Manuskriptfund von 1416. 78 mittelalterliche Vitruv-Handschriften hat Carol Hersell Krinsky in Italien nachweisen können, zwei davon in Florenz;40 und auch ein von Hause aus nicht oder wenig lateinkundiger Handwerker oder Künstler hätte in dieser Stadt jederzeit Gesprächspartner gefunden, die ihm geholfen hätten, in den Text einzudringen. Ghiberti hat mehrfach Vitruv zitiert,41 und schon 1413 wurde in Florenz „de architectura rationes“ diskutiert.42 Aber der Name Brunelleschi taucht, soweit ich sehe, in diesem Zusammenhang nicht auf, und die Brunelleschi-Forschung hat bisher an dieser Frage wenig Interesse gezeigt. Das Ergebnis ist negativ: Wir wissen nicht, ob es Vitruv war, der Brunelleschi zu seinem Verständnis der römischen Monumente verhalf. Aber eins können wir, glaube ich, sagen: Es war Brunelleschi, der, in Kenntnis oder Unkenntnis des Textes, die Voraussetzung für das moderne Vitruv-Verständnis geschaffen hat.43

38 39 40 41 42 43

Thoenes (2004). So zuerst bei Filarete: vgl. Thoenes (1998), 72 f. Krinsky (1967). Ausführlich diskutiert bei Schlosser (1941), 167 – 197 u. passim. Vgl. Gombrich (1967), Battisti (1976), 69 ff. Erst nach der Niederschrift meines Textes kam mir das Buch von Schedler (2004) zur Kenntnis, das die hier angeschnittenen Fragen eingehend diskutiert. Zur Brunelleschis „wahrscheinlicher“ Vitruvkenntnis vgl. ebendort, S. 95 f.

98

Christof Thoenes

Literatur Ackerman, James S., „Architectural Practice in the Italian Renaissance“, in: JSAH 13 (1954), 3 – 11. Alberti, Leon Battista, De re aedificatoria / L’architettura, hg. v. Giovanni Orlandi, Milano o. J. (1957). Aretino, Pietro, Lettere sull’arte, hg. v. Ettore Camesasca, Milano 1976. Betts, Richard J., „Si come dice Vetruvio, Images of Antiquity in Early Renaissance Theory of Architecture“, in: Antiquity and its Interpreters, ed. Alina Payne/Ann Kuttner/Rebekah Smick, Cambridge, Mass. 2000, 244 – 257. Di Teodoro, Francesco P., Raffaello, Baldassar Castiglione e la lettera a Leone X, Bologna 20032. Fabriczy, Cornel v., Filippo Brunelleschi, Stuttgart 1892. Feuer-Toth, Rosza, „The ‘Apertionum ornamenta’ of Alberti and the Architecture of Brunelleschi“, in: Acta Historiae Artium Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae 24 (1978), 147 – 152. Gombrich, Ernst, „From the Revival of Letters to the Reform of the Arts“, in: Essays in the History of Art presented to Rudolf Wittkower, London 1967, 71 – 82. Grayson, Cecil, Leon Battiste Alberti, On Painting and Sculpture, London 1972. Gros, Pierre, „Structures et limites de la compilation vitruvienne dans les livres III et IV du De Architectura“, in: Latomos 34 (1975), 986 – 1009. Klotz, Heinrich, Die Frühwerke Brunelleschis und die mittelalterliche Tradition, Berlin 1970. Krinsky, Carol Herselle, „Seventy-eight Vitruvius Manuscripts“, in: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 30 (1967), 36 – 70. Lupo, G. „Gli abiti de le architetture antiche …“, in: Rassegna di architettura e urbanistica 28/Nr. 84 – 85, (1994/95), 165 – 178. Manetti, Antonio, Vita di Filippo Brunelleschi, hg. v. D. De Robertis/Giuliano Tanturli, Milano 1976. Onians, John, „Brunelleschi, Humanist or Nationalist?“, in: Art History 5 (1982), 259 – 272. Pagliara, Pier Nicola, „Vitruvio da testo a canone“, in: Salvatore Settis (Hg.), Memoria dell’antico nell’arte italiana, Bd. 3, Torino 1986, 3 – 85. Schlosser, Julius v., Leben und Meinungen des florentinischen Bildhauers Lorenzo Ghiberti, Basel 1941. Serlio, Sebastiano, Il terzo libro, Venetia 1540. Tigler, Peter, Die Architekturtheorie des Filarete, Berlin 1963. Thoenes, Christof, „Zu Brunelleschis Architektursystem“, in: architectura (1973), 86 – 93. Thoenes, Christof, „Spezie e ordine di colonne nell’architettura di Brunelleschi“, in: Filippo Brunelleschi, la sua opera e il suo tempo, Firenze 1981, Bd. 2, 459 – 469. Thoenes, Christof, „Serlio e la trattatistica“, in: Idem (Hg.), Sebastiano Serlio, Milano 1989, 9 – 18. Thoenes, Christof, Sostegno e adornamento, Saggi sull’architettura del Rinascimento, Milano 1998. Thoenes, Christof, „Patterns of Transumption in Renaissance Architectural Theory“, in: Antiquity and its Interpreters, ed. Alina Payne/Ann Kuttner/Rebekah Smick, Cambridge, Mass. 2000, 191 – 196.

Vitruv, Vitruvianismus und die Anfänge der Renaissance-Architektur in Italien

99

Thoenes, Christof, „Gli ordini architettonici, rinascita o invenzione?“, in: Thoenes, Christof, Opus incertum, Italienische Studien aus drei Jahrzehnten, München/Berlin 2002, 199 – 213. Thoenes, Christof, „Architecture de la Renaissance et l’art de la imprimerie“, in: Sylvia Deswarte-Rosa (Hg.), Sebastiano Serlio à Lyon, Bd. 1, Lyon 2004, 21 – 27. Trachtenberg, Marvin, „On Brunelleschi’s Choice: Speculations on Medieval Rome and the Origins of Renaissance Architecture“, in: Cecil L. Striker (Hg.), Architectural Studies in Memory of Richard Krautheimer, Mainz 1996, 169 – 173. Vasari, Giorgio, Le vite de’ più eccellenti pittori scultori ed architettori, hg. v. Gaetano Milanesi, Bd. 2, Firenze 1878. Vitruv, Zehn Bücher über Architektur / Vitruvii De architectura libri decem, hg. v. Curt Fensterbusch, Darmstadt 1964. Fotos : Bibliotheca Hertziana, Max-Planck-Institut für Kunstgeschichte

„The Architectonic Book“ Indra Kagis McEwen Antonio Averlino, the Florentine architect better known as „Filarete“, was the author of the second renaissance treatise on architecture after Alberti, and the first to write in Italian, rather than Latin. It is well-known that the overriding theme of Filarete’s work, written around 1460, is the building of a city he names „Sforzinda“, after his patron, Francesco Sforza, the duke of Milan to whom the work was originally dedicated. In 1464, Filarete dedicated a second version of the work to Piero de’ Medici, enjoining his dedicatee to read or have read to him „questo architettonico libro“ – „this architectonic book“.1 Most readers – John Spencer, Filarete’s English translator among them – have taken this rather unusual turn of phrase as the obvious equivalent of „book on architecture“.2 For me however, the expression has not only raised a number of questions about Filarete’s choice of words, but also led me to consider its implications, especially how the expression points to certain intentions implicit in the „Vitruvianism“ of architectural theory in renaissance Italy – intentions which, as I see it, are intrinsically political. If, to quote the American visionary architect Lebbeus Woods, „architecture is a political act“ so too, I would claim, is its theory.3 Beginning with Vitruvius. Indeed, Vitruvius’s is the first recorded use of the word „architectonic“ in Latin. It appears in De architectura, book 9, on gnomonics – the construction of clocks – as a transliteration of the Greek „architektonikos“, a word that appears most frequently in Aristotle, who uses it mainly in non-architectural contexts to which I will return shortly. Gnomonics, of course, were the second part of Vitruvius’s tripartite rubric of architecture. The other two were building and mechanics. This is what he writes at the beginning of book 9. The analemma is the pattern obtained from the course of the sun and discovered by observing the shadow of the gnomon as it lengthens to the solstice. It is by means of architectonic principles and the tracings of the compass that the analemma discloses how the universe operates.4 1 2 3 4

Filarete, ms., Florence, Bib. Naz. Magl. II,1,140, fol. 1v; Filarete (1972), 7. Spencer, trans. 1965, 3. Woods (1992). Vitr. 9.1.1: „Analemma est ratio conquista solis cursu et umbrae crescentis ad brumam observatione inventa, e qua per rationes architectonicas circinique descrtiptiones est inventus

102

Indra Kagis McEwen

Simply put, what Vitruvius is describing here is the two dimensional projection of spherical solar order onto a flat surface in order to create the analemma or „face“ of a sundial, with the analemma thus becoming, as he presents it, a reflection of universal order. In the next paragraph, he goes on to assert that celestial order is itself „architected“ („architectata est“) by the power of nature.5 The celestial order „architected“ by natural powers are themselves (presumably) governed by „architectonic principles“, which would therefore direct even the „architecting“ activity of nature itself. These passages would appear to distil the very essence of that faith in the cosmic role of architecture generally taken as a key feature of orthodox Vitruvianism, as interpreted, for instance, by Rudolf Wittkower and others.6 But was crediting architects with cosmic agency Vitruvius’s primary intention? I think not; at least not primarily. Vitruvius wrote his treatise for Augustus Caesar, the first Roman emperor, whose very name „Augustus“, a name never before given to any human, was an epitome of divine order.7 „When your divine mind and power, Imperator Caesar, were seizing command of the world …“ is how Vitruvius addresses the new ruler at the beginning of „De architectura“.8 The work’s ultimate purpose, as I have argued elsewhere, was to show how architecture was the privileged means of giving the divine power that now commanded the world real measurable extent through the building, gnomonics and machines that together made Roman world dominion palpable and incontestable.9 This world dominion, as Vitruvius insists at the beginning of book 6, was itself decreed by the „divine mind“.10 Thus, to name as „architectonic“ the principles that guide the projection of heavenly order onto the earthly realm in the construction of a sun clocks is indeed potently metonymical, but not altogether in the way usually assumed. Heavenly order is, simultaneously and interchangeably, the order of Augustus and Rome and its earthly deployment through the application of „architectonic principles“ is the endowment of such principles with crucial political clout. And this, in turn, assigns an equally crucial political role to the person with know-

5 6 7 8 9 10

in mundo“. The edition used throughout is Vitruve, 1969 – 2009. All translations of Vitruvius are by the author. Vitr. 9.1.2. Wittkower (1949). McEwen (2003), 10 with refs. Vitr. 1.pref.1. McEwen (2003). Vitr. 6.1.11

„The Architectonic Book“

103

ledge of them and of how to apply them – „architecti scientia“, the knowledge of the architect.11 Knowledge is key. As Aristotle famously put it in the „Metaphysics“, the master craftsman he calls „architekton“ is more estimable than the artisans over which he exercises authority, because the „architekton“ knows the reasons for doing things – superior in wisdom through his possession of „logos“ and his knowledge of causes.12 The artisans he names „cheirotechnai“ or „hand-workers“ are classified as mindless things whose mechanical activity is guided by the thought of a higher power. The authority of thought, of reason, of knowledge, brings me to Aristotle’s use of the adjective „architektonikos“, the Greek word transliterated by Vitruvius as „architectonic“ in the passage just discussed.To the „architectonic“ arts, Aristotle writes in the „Metaphysics“, are attributed origins, causes, beginnings („aitia, archai“).13 Architectonic arts are arts to which other arts are subordinate, he explains in his „Nicomachean Ethics“, where bridle-making is said to be subordinate to horsemanship, and horsemanship, along with every other military pursuit, subordinate to strategy.14 In this example, strategy, the art of the „strategos“ or military commander, is an „architectonic“ art because, like the „architekton“, the „strategos“ knows the reasons why things are done. But for Aristotle, the supremely „architectonic art“ to which all the other arts refer is not architecture, although Vitruvius, later, seems to present it as such, when he begins his first book with the declaration that, judiciously exercised, the „knowledge of the architect … demonstrates everything the other arts achieve“.15 There was in any case no word for architecture in Aristotle’s day, and the art of the „architekton“, whose thoughts directed the activities of artisans – this as yet nameless art, though doubtlessly architectonic, was not, for Aristotle, the principal architectonic art.16 This is how Aristotle, famously, begins his „Nicomachean Ethics“: „Every art and every inquiry, and likewise every practical pursuit or undertaking seems to aim at some good: hence it has been well said that the good is that at which all things aim“.17 11 Vitr. 1.1.1: Architecti est scientia pluribus disciplinis et variia eruditionibus ornata. The knowledge of the architect is furnished with many disciplines and various kinds of learning. 12 Arist. Metaph. 981a30-b5. 13 Arist. Metaph. 1013a-b. 14 Arist. eth.Nic. 1094a4. 15 Vitr. 1.1.1. Cf. McEwen (2003), 319 n.88. 16 Vitr. 1.1.1. Cf. McEwen (2003), 319 n.88. 17 Arist. Eth.Nic. 1094a.1. H. Rackham, trans.

104

Indra Kagis McEwen

And the supreme good, the good toward which all arts and inquiries must ultimately be directed, is not individual, but collective: it is the common good. Thus, Aristotle argues, the common good is the end to which the most truly „architectonic“ of arts is directed: the good aimed for by the master-craft to which every other art and discipline is subordinate. For Aristotle this, the most authoritative, preeminently architectonic of disciplines is „hé politiké“: the political, the knowledge or science of politics.18 In the Greek context of Aristotle’s day, knowledge of political matters – „hé politiké“ – had, of course, to do specifically with the rule of cities – the good governance of the „polis“, from which needless to say the term „politiké“ derives. Keeping in mind the radically architectonic role Aristotle assigns to politics, let me return to the 15th-century „architectonic book“ with which I began this paper. As I said earlier, Filarete’s principal theme is the building of a city he names „Sforzinda“, after Francesco Sforza, and of its port, Plusiapolis. Both Vitruvius and Alberti had dealt with urban issues of course, but never before had the project for a city been made the virtually exclusive focus of a work of this kind – the first ideal city of the Renaissance, it has been claimed. Why? Or rather, why then? Like many of the „signori“ who, at the time, ruled city-states in northern Italy, Francesco Sforza was a „condottiere“, a warlord with a private army for hire.19 In 1450, he seized Milan by force, overthrowing the existing Ambrosian Republic, so-called, although his claim to this, the richest dukedom in Italy, was strictly without legal foundation. Filarete entered his service at the same time or shortly afterwards. After a troubled decade that included work on the ducal fortress and Milan cathedral, as well as the design for Milan’s great municipal hospital, Filarete began to write his treatise, in which the hospital appears, among other of his projects, as one of Sforzinda’s major buildings.20 An epically enhanced account of Francesco Sforza’s rise to power is presented in the 14th of Filarete’s 25 books.21 Also larger than life is the appearance in the treatise of the architect himself, and that of his friend and intellectual mentor, Francesco Filelfo. Indeed, as virtually every commentator on the treatise has noted Sforzinda and its port are, to a large extent, identifiable with the real city of Milan and its surrounding territory. To this idealized Milan Filarete has given the name „Sforzinda“ – „Sforza-town“ – a city which is like Milan, only much better, 18 Arist. Eth.Nic. 1094a.25 – 29 19 Others include Leonello d’Este of Ferrara, Sigismondo Malatesta of Rimini, Ludovico Gonzaga of Mantua and Federico da Montefeltro of Urbino. All were enthusiastic early patrons of the new classical renaissance style. 20 On Filarete’s career, see inter alia, Tigler (1963); Spencer (1965), introduction; Filarete (1972), introduction; Giordano (1998). 21 Filarete ms. fol. 103r – 103v; Filarete (1972), 393; Spencer (1965), 181.

„The Architectonic Book“

105

thanks to the success of its condottiere prince, and of the architect-author’s project „di risucitare le virtu`“, „to bring the ancient virtues back to life“.22 Thus Filarete’s treatise presents a picture of „Sforza-town“ (Milan under Sforza rule), which demonstrates, hyperbolically of course, how as Sforza-town the city attains theoretical perfection, thereby conferring legitimacy on the rule of a person many considered a usurping warlord.23 Taken in context, then, Filarete’s re-invention of Milan as Sforzinda is clearly a political project and his book, while indeed about architecture, is also „architectonic“ in precisely the Aristotelian sense just discussed. Is this just a little too neat to be true? Many years ago, Nicholas Pevsner pointed to 13th-century readings of Aristotle’s „Politics“ and „Metaphysics“ by Aquinas and Albertus Magnus as sources for the appearance (or re-appearance) in the 14th and 15th centuries of the then novel notion of an „architectus“ as the master mind that conceived and designed new buildings, for as we just saw, Aristotle had qualified the „architecton“ as the person who, because he knows why things are done, is the person with authority over craftsmen.24 Pevsner did not mention the „Nicomachean Ethics“, whose opening passages seem particularly relevant to Filarete’s „architettonico libro“ and its project for an ideal city. But how well would Filarete, with his little Latin and less Greek, have known Aristotle? Moreover, the phrase architettonico libro does not appear in Filarete’s original dedication to Francesco Sforza, but rather in the dedication of the slightly reworked version he later presented to Piero de’ Medici.25 There is nothing exceptionable in an author’s grasping the import of a work’s intentions only after it is written – it happens all the time. But where did Filarete get the idea? The dukes of Milan owned one of the most important libraries in quattrocento Italy. By Filarete’s day, it contained well over a thousand manuscripts. Located in the ducal castle at Pavia, its holdings counted multiple copies of Aristotle, including several of the „Nicomachean ethics“. 26 The eminent scholar Francesco da Tolentino, better known as „Filelfo“ had been court humanist in Milan since 1439 when he entered the service of the then duke, Filippo Maria Visconti.27 If anyone knew this library’s contents, it was Filelfo. And if anyone knew how to negotiate the tortuous corridors of power it was, again, Filelfo, who nimbly transferred his immense erudition to 22 23 24 25

Filarete ms. fol. 114v; Filarete (1972), 432. See Ianziti (1988); Whittemore (2009); McEwen (2011). Pevsner (1942), 559. See also Schuler (1999), 69 – 80; Tosco (2003). The dedication to Francesco Sforza survives, although the manuscript dedicated to him does not. It is reprinted in Filarete (1972), 8 n.1. 26 Pellegrin (1955). 27 Robin (1991).

106

Indra Kagis McEwen

the service of the Sforza warlord more or less immediately after the latter’s seizure of the city. It was at this point, one assumes, that Filelfo befriended the architect Antonio Averlino, newly arrived in Milan, and gave him the pseudonym, Filarete or „lover of virtue“, although there is evidence that they had in fact been acquainted earlier.28 Some forty years ago, John Onians argued for Plato as the primary source for Filarete’s book – especially for the port of Plusiapolis.29 His claim was that Filelfo, an eminent Hellenist, worked from a manuscript in the Pavia library and mediated Plato’s „Republic“ and his „Laws“ for Filarete’s benefit. Other identifiable sources (besides Vitruvius), to which Filelfo almost certainly provided Filarete with the key, include Diodorus Siculus, Aesop, Virgil, Ovid, Statius, Pliny the elder, Plautus, Isidore of Seville, Suetonius, Plutarch, Dante and the Bible. And it was Filelfo, one might venture, who suggested to Filarete that his book on architecture was „architectonic“ in the political sense just discussed: Filelfo whose early letters record a preoccupation with the correct Latin translation of the „Nicomachean Ethics“, and who gave a course of lectures on the same work in Florence in the 1430’s.30 Later, in the 1470’s, he wrote a book, „On Moral Doctrine“, which discussed the ethics and metaphysics of Aristotle. But Filelfo’s prodigious literary output was in no way limited to philosophical works. Virtually every person of power became for him the subject of ecstatic Latin encomia, written in the classical style, as his Horatian odes of the mid 1450’s, recently translated into English by Diana Robin, clearly testify.31 The collection is dedicated to Francesco Sforza: Your poet Francesco Filelfo honours you, Francesco Sforza, with gifts worthy of your rank … kings are praised and princes honoured because of their lofty deeds. Among these men your noble … virtue gleams and seeks the highest stars.32

In one of the odes, entitled „To Francesco Sforza: The city of Milan narrates the fall of the Republic and the triumph of Sforza“, the city itself pours forth its thanks to the heaven-sent liberator who freed it from the tyranny of the mob.33 Elsewhere, on the same topic, Filelfo writes, Now true liberty has been instituted for the people. Gone is the arrogance of the cowardly plebs, the reign of terror and crime … Our hero, the noble Francesco Sforza lifted our hearts and bodies from the foul disease deep within the city … .34 28 29 30 31 32 33 34

Beltramini (1996). Onians (1971). Zippel (1979), 232; Robin (1991), 50 – 51; Grendler (2002), 397. Filelfo (2009). Filelfo (2009), 3. Filelfo (2009), 104 – 117. Filelfo (2009), 181.

„The Architectonic Book“

107

Sforza, Filarete continues, is an Apollo who spreads his ruddy rays, looks down on us with shining eyes … restores the downcast with his sweet light and refreshes the weary.35

I have long been of the opinion that the „virtù“ represented by the figure of virtue that Filarete stands on top of his „Casa della virtù“ in the 18th book of his treatise is not a personification of conventional goodness but „virtù“ as the sum of the soldierly qualities of courage, decision and manliness idealized by renaissance princes and their admirers.36 It has also been my view that the model for Filarete’s figure of „virtù“, the original of the armed man standing on the summit of the house of virtue, his head haloed by a sunburst, is none other than Francesco Sforza himself, the condottiere whose extraordinary „virtù“ had prevailed over the Milanese republicans and reestablished one-man rule in the city.37 Filelfo, it now seems to me, must have played a significant role in the genesis not only of Filarete’s „architectonic book“ and its focus on the victorious soldier-prince, but also, specifically, in the genesis of this particular image. But that is another story. Under the benevolent gaze of a radiant Sforza/Apollo, the regenerate Milan of Filelfo’s odes is at least as much a „Sforza-town“ as Filarete’s ideal city is, and the intentions of the poet’s literary hyperbole are therefore, obviously, just as „architectonic“, as are the political intentions of Filarete’s treatise. But Filelfo was not, of course, writing about architecture. Filarete was. As mentioned earlier, use of „architectonic“ in Latin is not attested before Vitruvius. After Vitruvius, the word appears as a noun whose referent, it must be acknowledged, can only be meant as the equivalent of what we call architecture. Such is the case in Pliny the elder, and Quintilian, as it is when the fifthcentury poet Sidonius Apollinaris writes that where dialectic argues and astrology predicts, „architectonica“ builds.38 When Servius, in his commentary on the Aeneid refers to Vitruvius „qui de architectonica scripsit“, he obviously means „Vitruvius, who wrote about architecture“. But in each instance „architectonica“ is a noun, not an adjective, as it had been in Aristotle’s „architectonic discipline“, Vitruvius’s „architectonic principles“ – and is, indeed, in Filarete’s „architettonico libro“. „Architectonica“ also appears as a noun in Cetius Faventinus’s 3rd-century abridgement of Vitruvius, a work limited to the treatment of private building. Its title, literally translated, is „A shortened book on the arts of architectonica for 35 36 37 38

Filelfo (2009), 183. Filarete ms. fol. 143r. McEwen (2011), 275 – 277. See also Pfisterer (2009). Cetius Faventinus (2002), 49 n.1.

108

Indra Kagis McEwen

private use by M. Cetius Faventinus“.39 As it happens, one of the 22 surviving manuscripts of Faventinus’s abridgement is in the Ambrosiana library in Milan, bound with a copy of „De architectura“.40 Both the Vitruvius and the Faventinus were copied by the same Milanese scholar Boninus Mombritius , and the copy is clearly dated 1462, which coincides precisely with the time when Filarete was writing his treatise. But before we allow ourselves to dismiss Aristotle and decide to favour the less demanding role of Faventinus’s abridgement in Filarete’s decision to call his book „architectonic“, it is well to recall that Faventinus’s little book was, emphatically, a book on private architecture. Indeed, as writes in his conclusion, „And so I have gathered in order for this little book of mine all the prescriptions relevant to private use. I have left public institutions (civitatum institutiones) and everything of that sort to be related by a writer of outstanding wisdom“.41 Whether or not Filarete can be considered „a writer of outstanding wisdom“, it is obvious that his book, with the staggering gigantism of its projected buildings’ celebration of princely power, concerned public institutions almost exclusively. And to pin Filarete’s source on Faventinus is to forget the architectonic ambitions of Filarete’s friend and mentor, the panegyrist and Aristotle scholar, Francesco Filelfo, whose contribution to the ideology of the treatise was almost certainly major. The political potential of Filarete’s treatise was taken to a new level when, twenty-five years after its first appearance, King Matthias Corvinus of Hungary commissioned the Italian humanist Antonio Bonfini to translate it into Latin, which translation, in large, lavishly-illuminated manuscript format, was intended to join other volumes of the same kind in the King’s famous library at Buda.42 The reason for its Latin translation could not have been that Matthias knew no Italian. He had been educated in Italian, and his Italian wife, Beatrice of Aragon, spoke no Hungarian – was criticized, in fact, for refusing to learn the language.43 The explanation lies elsewhere. Elected to the Hungarian throne at the age of fourteen against stiff opposition, Matthias, like Francesco Sforza, was considered by many to be a usurper.44 Bonfini addresses the issue when he writes in his dedication to the in39 „M. Ceti Faventini artis architectonicae privatis usibus abbreviatus liber“. Cf. Cetius Faventinus (2002), 4. 40 Milano, Bibliotheca Ambrosiana A137 sup. Cf. Ferrari (1984), 268 – 272; Cetius Faventinus (2002), introduction, XLVI. 41 Cetius Faventinus (2002), 42. H. Plommer, trans. 42 The manuscript, now in Venice (Bibliotheca Nazionale Marciana Lat. VIII, 2 (= 2796): Antoni Averulini florentini De Architectura libri viginti quinque), dates from 1488 – 89. See Bonfini (2000). 43 Fügadi (1990). 44 Lupescu (2008).

„The Architectonic Book“

109

vincible „Divo Mathia“, that the sword had chosen Matthias king – not „niggardly votes and cheap electioneering“. What Bonfini is saying is that he king’s contested election was irrelevant: virtù alone had earned him his coronation.45 Matthias’s father, Janos Hunyadi, a condottiere famous for his victories against the Ottoman Turks, had no pedigree worth mentioning. Moreover Matthias was himself without legitimate offspring. He had only one bastard son, Johannes Corvinus, whom he declared his successor in 1485 when all hope for a legitimate heir had been abandoned. In 1488 he made Johannes co-proprietor of his library in what has been taken as a legitimating move to further the youth’s chances of succession.46 Exactly contemporaneous with Antonio Bonfini’s Filarete translation is a political treatise written for Matthias by Aurelio Lippo Brandolini called „Republics and Kingdoms Compared“, presented as a dialogue between the King and his son Johannes, whose legitimacy the work was clearly meant to confirm.47 Bonfini had earlier proven himself an able courtier when he gave the King the Roman name „Corvinus“ and a fine Roman pedigree to go with it. In 1488, the same year Matthias gave Bonfini the Filarete commission, the king also asked him to trace Hungary’s history from prehistory to the present day – an immense work called „Rerum Ungaricarum Decades“, which took the scholar ten years to complete. Its aim was to redeem the nation’s barbarian origins in, as Patrick Baker has put it, an artistic crafting of the past to meet the needs of the present.48 Bonfini’s artistry renders even Attila quite blameless, apparently. The latinization of Filarete’s „achitettonico libro“ belongs to this context. As Maria Beltramini has recently shown, the translation entailed what she calls a Vitruvianization of the text, with passages where Filarete diverges from his Vitruvian source not translated but replaced wholesale with the „correct“ version from „De architectura“ itself.49 Digressions are cut, and all references to the work’s original Milanese context suppressed. In sum, the highly reductive Latin translation of Filarete’s treatise, brought the work back to its Vitruvian roots making it (along with the man who commissioned it) Roman and therefore universal. The king, it appears, had been quick to recognize Filarete’s „architectonic“ intentions, thanks to the grandiose buildings projected in the images of the Magliabechiano codex which was the manuscript from which Bonfini worked. 45 46 47 48

Bonfini ms. 2r; Bonfini (2000), 4. Trans. by author. Karsay (1991); Mikó (1999). Brandolini (2009). Unpublished presentation, conference of the Renaissance Society of America, Montreal 2011. An abstract of Professor Baker’s talk („Negotiating Barbarian Origins in Antonio Bonfini’s Rerum Ungaricarum Decades“) appears on page 179 of the conference programme. 49 Bonfini (2000), introduction xix-xxiv; Beltramini (2003).

110

Indra Kagis McEwen

„What did you say as soon as you saw this book which you asked me to translate into Latin?“ Bonfini asks the king in his dedication. „Seeing the plan of a bridge, did you not immediately think of throwing a marble bridge over the Danube, as Trajan did, and of building many cities in Pannonia?“50 And yet the phrase „architectonic book“ does not even appear in Bonfini’s translation. When he translates Filarete’s original preface, he renders the architettonico libro an opus: „It therefore gives me pleasure, to dedicate this opus to you …“ he writes.51 An opus no less architectonic, for all that. In the end, I do not think it really matters who in fact supplied Filarete with the troublesome word. Whether it was Vitruvius, Aristotle, Pliny, Cetius Faventinus, Filelfo or all (or even none) of the above, it is, as Bonfini’s supression of it demonstrates, not the word as a word that counts. The word „architectonic“ is consequential, rather, in pointedly naming a confluence of architecture and hé politiké which brings into sharp focus a key dimension of the „Vitruvianism“ that is the theme of this publication. Like De architectura itself, Filarete’s architettonico libro and other architectural treatises of the Renaissance were conceived and written in political circumstances which cannot be overlooked if one is to appreciate the full range of their theoretical significance. Inasmuch as they were political (and whether or nor they were in fact called „architectonic“) all such works were, like Filarete’s, „architectonic books.“

Bibliography Beltramini, Maria, „Francesco Filelfo e il Filarete: nuovi contributi alla storia dell’amicizia fra il letterato e l’architetto nella Milano Sforzesca“, in: Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa, Ser. IV, 1 – 2 (1996), 119 – 125. Beltramini, Maria, „Filarete in toga: la latinizzazione del Trattato d’architectura“, in: Alessandro Roveta/Gábor Hajnoczi (Hg.), Lombaria e Ungheria nell’età dell’Umanesimo e del Rinaschimento (Arte Lombarda, numero speciale 139/3), 2003 (2004), 14 – 20. Bonfini, Antonio, La latinizzazione del trattato d’architetura di Filarete (1488 – 89), hg. u. übers. v. Maria Beltramini, Pisa 2000. Brandolini, Aurelio Lippo, Republics and Kingdoms Compared, ed. and trans. James Hankins, Cambridge MA/London 2009. Cetius Faventinus, Abrégé d’architecture privée, hg. u. übers. v. Marie-Thérèse Cam, Paris 2002. Cetius Faventinus, Marcus; Vitruvius Pollio, Vitruvius and Later Roman Building Manuals, übers. Plommer, Hugh, Cambridge 1973

50 Bonfini ms. fol. 4r; Bonfini (2000), 6 – 7. 51 Opus igitur tibi dicatum libenter … Bonfini ms. fol. 5r; Bonfini 2000, 8.

„The Architectonic Book“

111

Ferrari, Mirella, „Fra I ‘latini scriptores’ di Pier Candido Decembrio e biblioteche umanistiche milanesi“, in: Rino Avesani et al. (Hg.), Vestigia: studi in onore di Giuseppe Billanovich, Roma 1984, 247 – 264. Filarete (Antonio Averlino detto il Filarete), Trattato di architecttura, hg. v. Maria Finoli/ Liliana Grassi, Milano 1972. Filelfo, Francesco, Francesco Filelfo: Odes, ed. and trans. Diana Robin, Cambridge MA/ London 2009. Fügadi, Erik, „A King for a Season“, New Hungarian Quarterly, 31/118 (1990), 75 – 82. Giordano, Luisa, „On Filarete’s Libro architettonico“, in: Vaughan Hart (ed.), Paper Palaces. The Rise of the Renaissance Architectural Treatise, New Haven/London 1998, 51 – 65. Grendler, Paul F., The Universities of the Italian Renaissance, Baltimore 2002. Ianziti, Gary, Humanistic Historiography under the Sforzas. Politics and Propaganda in Fifteenth-century Milan, Oxford1988. Karsay, Orsolya, „De laudibus Augustae Bibliothecae“, in: New Hungarian Quarterly, 32/121 (1991), 139 – 145. Lupescu, Radu, „The Election and Coronation of Kind Matthias“, in: Matthias Corvinus, the King, exhibition catalogue Budapest, hg. v. Péter Farbaky, Budapest 2008, 191 – 195. McEwen, Indra Kagis, Vitruvius: Writing the Body of Archictecture, Cambridge, MA and London 2003. McEwen, Indra Kagis, „Virtù-vious: Roman Architecture, Renaissance Virtue“, in: Cahiers des études anciennes 48 (2011), 255 – 283. Mikó, Árpád, „Matthias Corvinus, Matthias Augustus. L’arte antica al servizio del potere“, in: Luisa Secchi Tarugi (Hg.), Cultura e potere nel Rinascimento. Atti del IX Convgno internazionale, Chianciano-Pienza 21 – 24 luglio 1997, Firenze1999, 209 – 220. Onians, John B., „Alberti and vikaqetg : A Study in their Sources“, in: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 34 (1971), 96 – 114. Pellegrin, Elizabeth, La bibliothèque des Visconti et des Sforza, ducs de Milan, au XVe siècle, Paris 1955. Pevsner, Nicolaus, „The term ‘Architect’ in the Middle Ages“, in: Speculum 17 (1942), 549 – 562. Pfisterer, Ulrich, „I libri di Filarete“, in: Arte Lombarda 155 (2009), 97 – 110. Robin, Diana, Filelfo in Milan. Writings, 1451 – 1477, Princeton 1991. Schuler, Stefan, Vitruv im Mittelalter. Die Rezeption von „De Architecura“ von der Antike bis in die frühe Neuzeit, Köln 1999. Spencer, John R. (ed. and trans.), Filarete’s Treatise on Architecture, New Haven 1965. Tigler, Peter, Die Architekturtheorie des Filarete, Berlin 1963. Tosco, Carlo, „Vitruvio in età Gotica“, in: Gianluigi Ciotta (Hg.), Vitruvio nella cultura architettonica antica, medievale e moderna: atti del convegno internazionale di Genova, 5 – 8 novembre 2001, Genova 2003, 306 – 316. Vitruvius, De architectura (Collection des universités de France, Série latine), Paris 1969 – 2009. Whittemore, Leila, „City and Territory in Filarete’s Libro architettonico“, in: Arte Lombarda 155 (2009), 47 – 55. Wittkower, Rudolf, Architectural Principles in the Age of Humanism, London 1949. Woods, Lebbeus, Anarchitecture. Architecture is a Political Act, New York 1992. Zippel, Giuseppe, Storia e cultura del Rinascimento italiano, Padova 1979.

Polyperspectival Terminology in the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili Matteo Burioni The Hypnerotomachia Poliphili is an incunabulum of 467 pages printed 1499 by the editor Aldo Manuzio in Venice. Many questions regarding the genesis, the authorship and the intellectual context of this work still remain unanswered. The Hypnerotomachia is without doubt an exceptional book, but not the idiosyncratic mysterious ‘masterwork’ as most of the books written on this topic want to have it. The title is a reference to well-known Hellenistic works as the Pseudo-Homeric Batrachomyomachia (printed 1486), Teodorus Prodromus’ Galeomyomachia (printed 1495) and takes up many strands of Prudentius’ Psychomachia. Equally striking are the relations to the great works in Volgare by Dante, Petrarca and Boccaccio.1 Already in the Volgare tradition, the beloved women is credited to have existed on earth and at the same time is fashioned as a morale principle and leader to a higher world. Poliphilo’s love is clad in a confusingly erudite language. Baldassare Castiglione in his Cortegiano warned against “using Poliphilo’s words […] unless women would lose their self-esteem and feel uneducated.”2 This mention in one of the bestsellers of the time is a testament to the success of the book. The Hypnerotomachia managed to become idiomatic in a short period of time. The phalanx of Latinisms and Graecisms certainly were a challenge to the reader (as they still are today) and so the book itself was to be identified with its overly cultivated language.3 This language grafts Greek and Latin terms on a vernacular trunk and sometimes even imitates Latin syntax. The exotic words do not blend into the vernacular text, they shimmer and glitter like precious antiquities, put on show like encased gems in this monumental museum of words. Among the great variety of exotic lexemes, architectural terminology features prominently as the love romance is interspersed by descriptions of ancient monuments. These descriptions are I wish to thank Horst Bredekamp, Jill Kraye, Werner Oechslin, Alina Payne and Thomas Ricklin for their comments. 1 Colonna 2006, Vol. II, 485 f. (Mino Gabriele) [from now on cited as Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Ariani/Gabriele]. Still indispensable Colonna 1980. [from now on cited as Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi]. 2 Castiglione, Cortegiano, 434 (III, LXX). 3 Dionisotti 1968, 1 – 14; Giovanni Pozzi, Presentazione, in: Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 3 – 18, esp. 7 – 13; Patrizi 1989.

114

Matteo Burioni

extremely erudite and extensive, if often exhaustive. The Hypnerotomachia uses architectural terminology from Vitruvius and Alberti: two mutually exclusive domains of designation. Alberti expressly condemned Vitruvius’ indiscriminate use of Graecisms in his Latin treatise and coined a variety of neologisms himself to supply for technical terms he found missing in Latin.4 These never ending and often tedious descriptions probably were the reason that Girolamo Cardano recommended reading the Hypnerotomachia as an antidote against insomnia.5 Much remains to be said as an introduction to this book, concerning the author and its artful concealment of his name as an acrostic, concerning the relation of the two books of the Hypnerotomachia that are posited like text and commentary. In what follows, I will analyse a few passages from the description of the Mausoleum at the beginning of the romance to show 1) how Vitruvian and Albertian terminology are intermingled, 2) how the use of terminology opens a polyperspective narrative 3) how the monument is equalled to the beloved and longed for lady.

Polyperspectival Terminology The first memorable event of Poliphilo’s dream journey is the sight of a large monument between to mountains. First he is persuaded to see a tower and a great building, but cannot discern it properly. Only after coming closer to the site he sees how the mountains were united by that beautiful building. What he misunderstood for a tower now is a sky reaching obelisk. The audacity of the building is mentioned even before it is seen and described in its entirety. Standing before the building, Poliphilo tries to describe the form and site of the monument. I cite a passage that shows the mingling of Vitruvian and Albertian terminology: Quivi dunque tanta nobile columnatione [Alberti] io trovai de ogni figuratione, liniamento et materia, quanta mai alcuno el potesse suspicare: parte dirupte, parte ad la sua locatione et parte riservate illaese, cum gli epistyli [Vitruvius] et cum capitelli eximii de excogitato et aspera celatura [Vulgata]; coronice [Alberti] , zophori [Vitruvius] overo phrygii [Graecism for fregio], trabi arcuati [Alberti], di statue ingente fracture, truncate molti degli aerati et exacti membri; scaphe [Alberti] e conche et vasi et de petra numidica et de porphyrite et de vario marmoro et ornamento […]6 I discovered there a collonade of the noblest form imaginable as to its decoration, design and material; it was partly fallen, partly still in place, and partly undamaged. There were the epistyles ad capitals, excellently designed and roughly carved; 4 5 6

Lücke 1974. Cardano, De Rerum Varietate, 583 (VIII, 44). Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, 14 ( f. a7v).

Polyperspectival Terminology in the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili

115

cornices, zophori or friezes and arched beams; huge, broken statues missing many of their brass details; niches, shells and vases of Numidian stone and porphyry, ornamented with various marbles […].7

This dual use of Vitruvian and Albertian terminology is impressive. Even if sometimes confusion seems to dominate, refinement seems to be the goal in the end. Picking up difficult and obscure terms like “trabi arcuati” or “scaphe” from Alberti certainly is an extraordinary step. In this way the text becomes an overly precious collection of architectural terminology. But let as return to the description for a moment before returning to the lexical aspects. On a massive basis lying between the mountains raises a vast pyramidal structure that culminates in a single stone block. Here on four bronze-feet an obelisk is hoisted with a statue that moves in the wind. Gazing and describing the building exhausts Poliphilo. Poliphilo makes one further try “to give a short description of the monument”. He gives height and width of the mausoleum and describes the single parts of the monument. The crowning statue is identified by its bald head and flying hair as Occasio-Fortuna. The audacity of the building is mentioned again and again and surpasses the labyrinths, theatres, mausolea and the buildings of the Babylonian king Ninus. The description is modelled on two of the most famous Mausoleums of antiquity, the mausoleum of Halikarnassos and that of Augustus. Two texts are fundamental for the Hypnerotomachia: the description of Mausoleum of Halikarnassos by Pliny the Elder and Flavio Biondo’s Roma instaurata for the Mausoleum of Augustus.8 Especially the site of the building between to mountains is due to Biondo’s text that in his turn misunderstood a passage from Cassiodorius Variae (III, 51, 4 – 8). The general layout of the monument follows Pliny’s description of the Mausoleum of Halicarnassos. The measurements are increased and instead of the quadriga the statue of Fortuna-Occasio has been put on top. The colossal basis of the pyramid is described in the following way: Ritorniamo, dunque alla vastissima pyramide, sotto la quale uno ingente et solido plintho [Vitruvius] overo latastro [Alberti] overo quadrato [Volgare] supposito iacea, di quatordeci passi la sua altitudine et nella extensione overo longitudine stadii sei, il quale faceva il pedamento [Volgare] de l’infimo grado dilla molosa pyramide.9 Let us return now to the vast pyramid, beneath which lay a single huge and solid plinth or square slab, fourteen paces high and six stadia in extent or breath, which formed the footing of the lowest step of the massive pyramid10 7 Colonna 1999, 22. 8 Pliny (Pliny, Naturalis historia, XXXVI, 30 – 31) and Flavio Biondo (Biondo, Roma instaurata, f. 96v [III, Kap. 34]). See Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 58, note 2. 9 Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 19 (f. bIr). 10 Colonna 1999, 27.

116

Matteo Burioni

The author uses four different words to designate the massive basis. With Vitruvius he names the basis “plinthe”, with Alberti “latastrus” and adds the vernacular circumlocutions “quadrato” und “pedamento”. This terminological use certainly is a display of erudition, but in my opinion there is more to it. It seems as if the designation of a building part is dependent on the standpoint of the speaker. The description of the famous “Magna Porta” has some interesting clues to offer: Diqué, tanto erano a questo intento et obstinato conspecto captivati cum excesso piacere inseme et cum stupore gli sentimenti mei, che altro nella rapace memoria solatioso et periocundo non mi occoreva, se non, quandonque io applicato mirava et curiosamente tutte le parte al venusto composito, examinando di quelle excellente et eximie statue lapidee di virginale factura, ché, di subito excitato, caldamente singultando sospirava, in tanto che risonavano gli mei amorosi et sonori suspiri in questo loco solitario et deserto et di aere crassitato, commemorantimi della mia diva et exmensuratamente peroptata Polia. Omè. paucula intermissione se preastava che quella amorosa et coeleste Idea non fusse simulacrata nella mente et sedula comite al mio tale et cusì incognito itinerario; nella quale fermamente nidulata l’alma mia contentamente cubiculava, quale in tutissimo praesidio et intemerato asylo secura.11 After looking at this so intently and concentrately, my senses were captivated and stupefied by an excess of pleasure that excluded any other joy or comfort from the grasp of my memory. As I marvelled at it and examined carefully every part of the beautiful complex, examining these excellent and noble statues made from virgin stone, my emotions were suddenly so warmly aroused that I gave forth a sobbing sigh. As my loud, amorous sighs resounded in the close air of this solitary and deserted place, I was reminded of my divine and immeasurably desired Polia. Ah, how short a time had this amorous and celestial ideal been absent from my mind, whose image was the perpetual companion of my unknown journey, in which my soul had established a nest for its contented repose, feeling as secure there as if it were deep within a fortress and immune from all fear!12

The monument is termed a “beautiful composition” (venusto composito) of virginal facture (virginale factura) and immediately summons in the mind of Poliphilo the image of his beautiful beloved Polia.13 Already in this passage certainly a similitude between the monument and the woman is carefully crafted in the descriptive prose of the text, otherwise it would be difficult to explain why the contemplation of the monument arouses these feelings in the protagonist. Dunque essendo per questo modo ad tale loco pervenuto, ove erano della copiosa et eximia operatione antiquaria gli occhii mei ad tale spectatione furati et occupati, mirai sopra tutto una bellissima porta tanto stupenda et d’incredibile artificio et di qualunche liniamento elegante, quanto mai fabrefare et depolire se potria, che sencia 11 Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 22 – 23 ( f. b3r-b3v). 12 Colonna 1999, 31. 13 See Bredekamp 1985; Furno 1994.

Polyperspectival Terminology in the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili

117

fallo non sento tanto in me di sapere che perfectamente la potesse et assai discrivere, praecipuamente che nella nostra aetate gli vernacoli, proprii et patrii vocabuli et di l’arte aedificatoria peculari sono cum gli veri homini sepulti et extincti.14 Having thus arrived at this place, my eyes were ravished and filled by sight of a mighty and rare work of antiquity, and above all by a beautiful portal that was as stupendous and incredible in its artistry and elegant in its lineaments as ever could have been fashioned or finished. Without a doubt, I lack the knowledge that would allow me to describe it perfectly, especially since in our time the proper vernacular and native terms peculiar to the art of architecture are buried and extinct, along with the true men.15

The wonderful portal in the centre of the monument is simply indescribable. The reason is that “in our times the current, particular and old words from the art of building died like real humans and were buried here.” As we have seen the dead terms of architecture are emphatically used in the lengthy description of the monument. They are terms of a past that for Poliphilo is lost and that he longs for as he longs for Polia. The descriptive language of architecture then mimics in some respects the love poetry of Italian ‘Petrarchismo’. The description of the monument then is a trope of poetical longing, the monument itself a figuration of the beloved. As Giorgio Agamben has suggested the name of “Polia” itself points to this hidden identity between women and antiquity.16 It derives from the extremely rare Greek word “polia” that in Johannes Crastonus Greek-Latin Dicionary of 1495 is translated as “canities”.17 Just below this lemma we find “polias” as an epithet of Minerva and this is the traditional reading of Polia. The importance of the lexicon of Johannes Crastonus has not been noticed: It is a key to the production and reception of the book as well as it supports the ingenious and fundamental reading of Agamben. If “Polia” really is the grey, the old lady then she certainly could stand in for antiquity itself. Even if we for a moment leave open the question regarding the name of Polia, there remain the parallel between description of architecture and description of the beloved woman. In the description of the monument a wealth of technical terms, seldom or never used words are inserted that obsessively mark the loss of the refinement of antique language. A wonderful instance of such a use is the designation of the front of the pyramid by the term “metope” (“metopa overo fronte”). I now cite the whole passage that contains this strange use of the term metope: Et nelle extremitati dilla dicta platea, dilla dextera et dilla leva verso gli monti, erano ad libella dui ordini de columnatione cum exquisito intervallo dil’areostylo interiecto, secundo la exigentia opportuna, d’una columna all’altra; ove il primo 14 15 16 17

Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 23 (f. b3v). Colonna 1999, 31. Agamben 1982. For an English Translation see Agamben 1999. Crastonus, Dictionarium greacum, ad indicem.

118

Matteo Burioni

corso overo ordine d’ambe due le parte initiavano equali al limbo overo ordine extremo termine dil silicato nel metopa overo fronte dilla magna porta […]18 At the edges of this area, on the left and right toward the mountains, there were two orders of columns at ground level, with the exquisite areostyle spacing dictating the proper distances of the columns from one another. The first row or order on either side began at the edge or extreme end of the pavement, at the metope or front of the great portal […].19

In the Vitruvian terminology this use would be complete non-sense as the metope is part of the Doric frieze and cannot be used to designate the front of a building. The same is true for Alberti how never has used metope to designate the front of a building. Giovanni Pozzi in the notes to his edition of the text finds no explanation for this use of the word.20 Mino Gabriele in his edition points to the fact that Herodotus in the description of the pyramid of Cheops uses metopon to designate the front of the building.21 The misunderstanding lays in the fact that metope with omicron is part of the Doric frieze whereas metopon with omega means front. This second meaning of metopon is to be found in Johannes Crastonus Greek-Latin-Lexikon published some years before the Hypnerotomachia by Aldo Manuzio.22 The use of this word from Herodotus follows immediately after the complaint about the loss of ancient terminology. The author excavates dead and buried words from the corpus of Greek and Latin literature to showcase them in his lengthy descriptions. Metope is a collectible in the museum of words that is the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili. The term taken out of the burial yard of antiquity has not been granted new life. Instead it remains an archaic relic that calls for an explanation and it would remain completely obscure if not for the addition of the volgare “fronte”. “Metope” then points directly to Herodotus experience in seeing and describing the ancient monuments of Egypt, it is only to be understood as a direct link to the experience and language of Herodotus. Architectural terms are immediately linked to the speaker standpoint. We describe in different ways, if we follow Vitruvius or Alberti or Herodotus. The Hypenerotomachia does not solve the difficult and contrasting terminological options present around 1500. It just puts some of these terminological options side by side, contrasting them to obtain a discrepant impression. This sporting of terminology is not used to pinpoint a thing with a name, to create a secure and natural link between name and thing. If it does not establish a secure link between res and verba which in the end is the goal of all technical terminology 18 19 20 21

Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 23 (f. b3v). Colonna 1999, 31. Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 63. Herodotus, Histories, II, 124. Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Ariani/Gabriele, Vol. I, 31 (f. bIIIIr). 22 Crastonus, Dictionarium greacum, ad indicem.

Polyperspectival Terminology in the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili

119

what does it then and how can it be understood? In my opinion the Hypnerotomachia opens up a polyperspectival space of narration that includes architectural terminology. My contention is that the seemingly confusing use of terminology can be explained in the context of the love romance. And here we should return to a further passage related to the colossal mausoleum which has never been read together with the description of the monument. This passage has escaped the attention so far because it is to be found almost at the end of the first book. It seems as if no one really reads the book from cover to cover. If it is indeed read thoroughly the confidence seems to be lacking that there is an overarching concept that binds together the different parts of the book and that requires reading together passages from different parts of the romance. This passage proves the aforementioned identity between the monument and the beloved Polia. At a much later moment Poliphilo describes the breasts of his beloved in these terms: Tra li quali volupticamente mirava una deliciosa vallecula, ove era la dilicata sepultura dil alma mia. Quale non hebbe Mausolo, cum tuto il suo havere collocata.23 I admired voluptuously between them a delicious little cleft that was the delicate tomb of my soul, such as Mausolus could not have built, for all his wealth.24

The geographic position of the monument between two mountains which was taken from Flavio Biondo and on which Poliphilo insists in his description of the Mausoleum are here compared to the breasts of the beloved women were Poliphilo wants to be buried. To be buried in the heart of the beloved is a topos of love romance, but here it points back to the description of the colossal monument in the opening of the romance. Antiquity then is a figure of the beloved women that is described in the manner of love poetry of Petrarch. Scattered, ruined and lost antiquity are tropes for the longing of the lover. This condition of the beloved is the topic of a violent dream modelled after Boccaccio’s novel of Nastagio degli Onesti which haunts Polia in the second book of the Hyperotomachia. How this second book with the prominently featured quote from Boccaccio is related to the first, is still an open problem that cannot be properly exposed here. Architectural terminology however is used in a highly complex, deliberately difficult way that opens up a polyperspectival narration and hence a similarly complex stance vis-à-vis terminology. Terminology is used in the Hypnerotomachia as a way to mourn the loss of and the longing for antiquity which cannot be revived and is irrevocably lost.

23 Hypnerotomachia, Ed. Pozzi/Ciapponi, Vol. II, 233 (f. pIIIIr). 24 Colonna 1999, 240.

120

Matteo Burioni

Bibliography Agamben, Giorgio, “Il sogno della lingua. Per una lettura del Poliphilo”, in: Lettere Italiane 34, 1982, 466 – 481. Agamben, Giorgio, The End of the Poem, translated by Daniel Heller-Roazen, Stanford CA 1999. Biondo, Flavio, Roma instaurata, Rom [Print of Statius] 1471. Bredekamp, Horst, “Der ,Traum vom Liebeskampf ’ als Tor zur Antike”, in: Natur und Antike in der Renaissance, ed. by. Herbert Beck/Peter C. Bol, Frankfurt am Main 1985, 153 – 172. Cardano, Girolamo, Hieronymi Cardani Mediolanensis De Rerum Varietate Libri XVII, Basileae per Henrichum Petrum 1557. Castiglione, Baldassare, Il libro del Cortegiano con una scelta delle Opere minori, ed. by Bruno Maier, Torino 1973. Colonna, Francesco, Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, ed. by Giovanni Pozzi/Lucia A. Ciapponi, 2 Vols., 2. Edition Padova 1980. Colonna, Francesco, Hypnerotomachia Poliphili: the Strife of Love in a Dream. The entire text translated for the first time into English with an Introduction by Joscelyn Godwin, London 1999. Colonna, Francesco, Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, ed. by Marco Ariani/Mino Gabriele, 2 Vols., Milano 2006. [Crastonus, Johannes], Dictionarium greacum copiosissimum secundum ordine alphabeti cum interpretatione latina, Venedig: Aldus Manutius 1497. Dionisotti, Carlo, Gli umanisti e il volgare fra Quattro e Cinquecento, Firenze 1968. Furno, Martine, “L’orthographie de la porta triumphante dans l’Hypnerotomachia Poliphili de Francesco Colonna: un manifeste d’architecture moderne?”, in: Mélanges de l’École Française de Rome. Italie et Méditerranée 106, 1994, 473 – 516 Lücke, Hans Karl, Alberti-Index: Leon Battista Alberti, De re aedificatoria, Florenz 1485; Index Verborum, 5 Vols., München 1974. Patrizi, Giorgio, “Il Romanzo di Polifilo: Il Libro, Il Sogno, Il Monumento”, in: Roma nel Rinascimento 5, 1989, 17 – 23.

Materiali per la ricostruzione della Villa di Poggioreale a Napoli Leonardo Di Mauro A Napoli la villa suburbana del XV secolo più celebre e importante è quella di Poggioreale (fig. 1), la residenza costruita da Giuliano da Maiano per il duca di Calabria, Alfonso d’Aragona, a partire dal 1487 e in cui i riferimenti architettonici e letterari con il mondo antico sono più evidenti. Poggioreale è ancora ben visibile, con le strutture annesse e i giardini, nella Pianta/veduta di Alessandro Baratta stampata nel 1629, anche se con le deformazioni e l’enfatizzazione dimensionale di alcune strutture, consuete in questo tipo di rappresentazione. Due miti hanno condizionato per decenni gli studi su Poggioreale: il primo riguarda il modello ideale di Sebastiano Serlio (fig. 2) attraverso il quale essa è diventata celeberrima, basato sulla descrizione, fatta a Serlio che mai vide le strutture di Poggioreale, da Marc’Antonio Michiel; il secondo riguarda la precisa localizzazione del sito su cui essa sorgeva e la data della sua distruzione. Fu Roberto Pane negli anni Settanta del Novecento a sfatare il primo mito notando come l’originalità espressiva della villa, malgrado le fonti iconografiche e – aggiungo – la possibilità di ricercare e individuare strutture superstiti fosse “stata infatti ‘rimossa’ a vantaggio di una pura astrazione culturale”1. Nel primo decennio del XXI secolo, attraverso ricerche diverse e di diversi studiosi si è giunti ad alcune conclusioni importanti che sfatano il secondo dei due miti che, come appare evidente, si sorreggevano a vicenda. Nel 2004 nel corso di uno studio sulle persistenze di edifici e di tracciati in un settore dell’area orientale di Napoli coincidente con alcuni fogli della più importante pianta ottocentesca della città, rilevati nel 1872, uno studente mi segnalava la presenza di una costruzione d’impianto quadrato isolata in un’area che coincideva con quella indicata nella pianta del Duca di Noja del 1775 come relativa alla Villa di Poggioreale che appunto in quella pianta veniva segnalata per l’ultima volta prima della sua distruzione (fig. 3). Un sopralluogo e osservazioni su altri resti e allineamenti di edifici, in parte segnalati in passato da altri studiosi come Roberto Pane e Giancarlo Alisio che però non avevano sviluppato le loro osservazioni, mi convinse che la struttura a pianta quadrata rilevata nella pianta ottocentesca dovesse coincidere con una 1

Pane (1975 – 1977), II , 55 – 56

122

Leonardo Di Mauro

Fig. 1. Particolare con la villa di Poggioreale dalla veduta della città di Napoli di Alessandro Baratta (1629). Napoli, collezione privata. Foto: autore

delle torrette del corpo principale della villa quattrocentesca, quella posta a sudest (fig. 4); scoperta che, nel 2009, è stata segnalata alla Soprintendenza ai Beni architettonici perché avviasse le opportune pratiche di vincolo archeologico sull’area. In questa sede quindi anticiperò alcune delle ricerche che da allora vado conducendo e che sono oggetto di uno studio più ampio in corso di pubblicazione. Pressoché contemporaneamente Cettina Lenza individuò nel Fondo Pâris conservato nella Bibliothèque municipale di Besançon un rilievo della Villa (fig. 5), comprensivo di tutte le pertinenze, databile ai primi anni del XIX secolo che ci dimostra come essa sia scomparsa nelle sue strutture maggiori nel corso dell’Ottocento se non addirittura – data l’ignoranza e sulla scia della convinzione della sua già avvenuta distruzione – nel Novecento. Per comprendere la vicenda devo brevemente ripercorrere le osservazioni fatte da Cettina Lenza. Dunque ne L’Histoire de l’art par les monuments di Séroux d’Agincourt, pubblicata in fascicoli a partire dal 1811 e in edizione completa nel 1823, nove anni dopo la morte dell’autore, la tavola LIV, dedicata a illustrare gli edifici romani e napoletani eretti tra XIII e XV secolo, mostra un disegno della villa di Poggioreale evidentemente tratto da quello del Terzo libro di Serlio; in una nota però Séroux segnala che: “J’apprends de MM: Gasse, jeunes architects

Materiali per la ricostruzione della Villa di Poggioreale a Napoli

Fig. 2. Sezione e pianta della villa di Poggioreale dai Sette Libri di Architettura di Sebastiano Serlio (1540).

123

124

Leonardo Di Mauro

Fig. 3. La torretta superstite della villa nella Mappa del duca di Noja (1775) e nella pianta Schiavoni (1872). Napoli, collezione privata. Foto: autore

français aussi studieux qu’intelligens, que ce dessin n’étant point exact, ils se proposent d’en donner un autre beucoup plus détaillé.” Questo disegno, allo stato degli studi non rinvenuto, è però certamente alla base di quello di Pierre-Adrien Pâris, che fu tra i collaboratori dell’Historie e che ben conosceva i fratelli Gasse, pensionnaires all’Accademia di Francia a Roma tra il 1802 e il 1806. Che anche Pâris fosse consapevole dell’importanza e novità del rilievo dei Gasse è evidente dalla didascalia che correda il grafico, “Plan des restes d’un Edifice en etat de ruine a 1 12 mille de Naples, connu sous le nom de Poggio Reale, bâti, a ce qu’on croit, par la Reine Jeane II, rapporté d’une maniere peu exacte par Serlio…..” (il corsivo è mio). Tre ulteriori osservazioni devono essere fatte. La prima riguarda il dato che nel disegno di Pâris di Poggioreale e di tutti gli altri del Fondo da lui donato alla Biblioteca di Besançon, come nota la Lenza, “la finalità didascalica influisce sulle caratteristiche dei disegni (per la quasi totalità piante)”, come si evince bene dai confronti di essi con le strutture di palazzi napoletani ancora esistenti e quindi “le opere vengono in ogni caso decontestualizzate e depurate dalle caratteristiche accessorie o accidentali, se non parzialmente ‘riprogettate’,

Materiali per la ricostruzione della Villa di Poggioreale a Napoli

125

Fig. 4. La torretta superstite della villa di Poggioreale. Foto: Marco Malfi

eliminandone le imperfezioni e irregolarità o modificandole secondo canoni di armonico e ragionato classicismo”2. La seconda, e per certi versi più importante ai fini della individuazione delle strutture superstiti e per la verifica della sua attendibilità, è che il rilievo si estende a tutte le dipendenze della residenza e non si limita al nucleo principale (il modello ideale di Serlio) e soprattutto non vi è disegnato ciò che i Gasse non riescono a rilevare, come ad esempio la peschiera antistante la loggia , visibile nella Pianta di Baratta del 1629 e nella veduta di Codazzi, ma già scomparsa nella Pianta del Duca di Noja (1775) o l’impianto dei giardini, uno dei quali è ancora visibile nella pianta settecentesca. La terza infine riguarda il duplice disegno di Baldassarre Peruzzi conservato agli Uffizi che, effettuato velocemente e dal vero trova precisi riscontri nel rilievo dei Gasse. Il rinvenimento del disegno di Besançon ha indotto Giulio Pane “a rendere note le risultanze delle più recenti ricerche su quanto resta dell’edificio”3, cioè in particolare una parte del complesso dove già Roberto Pane aveva individuato resti di lesene in pietra serena segnalati nel 1977 e tuttora esistenti, un’ampia corte, con al centro una grande vasca, che nei documenti settecenteschi è 2 3

Lenza (2004), 177 – 188. Pane, (2004), 189 – 198.

126

Leonardo Di Mauro

Fig. 5. Pierre-Adrien Pâris, Plan des restes d’un edifice en état de ruin a 1 12 mile de Naples, connue sous le nom de Poggio Reale …, Besançon, Bibliotéque Municipale.

Materiali per la ricostruzione della Villa di Poggioreale a Napoli

127

ricordata come la “Venezia”, anche se devo ricordare che nella confusione gravante su Poggioreale, in un intreccio di distruzioni e di oblio, il termine “Venezia” ricorre anche per l’altro specchio d’acqua, la peschiera posta ai piedi della Loggia. Uno spazio che giustamente Francesco Quinterio, nelle bellissime pagine che dedica alla Residenza di Poggioreale nel suo libro su Giuliano da Maiano “grandissimo domestico”, riferendosi al disegno di Peruzzi definisce “qualcosa di simile a un ninfeo , piuttosto che un bagno (o una ‘stufa’)4. Nel suo saggio Giulio Pane presenta una proiezione del rilievo di Besançon sulla mappa topografica 1:2000 del Comune di Napoli (anno 1998), proiezione a mio parere imprecisa e che non permette di individuare tutte le strutture e gli allineamenti superstiti e di decodificare tutte le informazioni che il disegno di Pâris può offrire. Un disegno che deve essere tenuto di fronte riosservando tutte le principali fonti iconografiche antiche, che non sono poi moltissime: lo schizzo-rilievo di Peruzzi disegnato durante il soggiorno napoletano intorno al 1523, la pianta-veduta di Alessandro Baratta del 1629, il dipinto databile al 1641 di Viviano Codazzi e Domenico Gargiulo raffigurante una Festa a Poggioreale, conservato – una singolare coincidenza – al Musèe des Beaux Arts di Besançon, la pianta del Duca di Noja del 1775. Più numerose le fonti documentarie e letterarie; in questa sede voglio solo ricordarne due: Jean Burchard che nel Diarium ricorda come nel 1495 il palazzo fosse di due piani e la descrizione di Carlo Celano nelle Notizie del bello e del curioso del 1692. Nel disegno di Pâris, accanto all’edificio principale con le torrette è delineato un ampio cortile con ingresso dalla strada (che Celano chiama delle carrozze) e subito dopo un’inequivocabile acquerellatura celeste segnala la grande vasca rettangolare di un bagno inquadrata da due loggiati a cinque campate (tali sono anche indicate da Peruzzi) che, probabilmente per la sua particolare struttura, è oggi la parte meglio individuabile della villa quattrocentesca e soprattutto misurabile. Per spiegarmi meglio oggi sarebbe possibile, pur tra le incredibili difficoltà poste dalla parcellizzazione delle proprietà e dalla scarsa collaborazione offerta dai residenti (Napoli nel bene e nel male resta sempre un posto fuori del comune), disegnare delle sezioni trasversali che ci mostrerebbero la situazione dei salti di quota ben visibili nella pianta Baratta. All’acquerellatura celeste corrisponde quindi lo spazio della “Venezia” e poiché all’interno del muro che la delimita dalla strada (il Corso nel disegno di Peruzzi) e sui due ad esso perpendicolari si appoggiano i resti di tre lesene in pietra serena (fig. 6) abbiamo un dato sicuro di misurazione archeologica (fig. 7), a cui può essere aggiunto quello relativo al muro prospettante sul lato 4

Quinterio (1996), 453

128

Leonardo Di Mauro

Fig. 6. Elemento in pietra serena superstite nella ‘Venezia’ di Poggioreale. Foto: Marco Malfi

meridionale su cui si affianca l’edificio a due piani che a mio parere coincide con la torretta di sud-est (di circa nove metri di lato). La sovrapposizione del disegno Pâris proprio per la già ricordata idealizzazione del grafico non deve essere applicata in modo meccanico, ma dev’essere attuata decodificando la sua eccessiva regolarità alla luce delle scarse strutture superstiti e degli attuali allineamenti che sono però estremamente indicativi. In quest’ultima immagine i tratti evidenziati sulla pianta moderna coincidono con le strutture quattrocentesche sicuramente da me individuate. Di fondamentale importanza è la conferma nel disegno di Pâris che il cortile del “Palagio” fosse di tre campate per sette di identica misura come schizzato da Peruzzi e descritto da Celano. Altrettanto importante la puntuale raffigurazione degli “appartamenti” nelle torrette: un ricetto nell’angolo, le scale, una sala e una saletta (alcova o luogo di comodo?), ambienti che possono ben essere collocati nella misura dell’ambiente che ho potuto vedere al pianterreno della torretta di sud-est. Le finestre appaiono essere quindi quattro per piano. Impressionante è riscontrare sul posto l’allineamento tra la torretta sud-est e il punto in cui doveva sorgere la Loggia prospettante la Peschiera coincidente, forse anche con le quote, con la “pergola” – così la chiama Peruzzi – che per un

Materiali per la ricostruzione della Villa di Poggioreale a Napoli

129

Fig. 7. La ‘Venezia’ nel disegno di Pâris (= fig. 5) con evidenziate le paraste ancora esistenti.

tratto coincideva con il porticato del loggiato, secondo l’inquadratura del dipinto di Codazzi e Gargiulo. Malgrado tutto, lo spazio è ancora evocatore di un ambiente con lo sfondo intatto della collina di San Martino e del Castel Sant’Elmo. Ancora una annotazione bisogna fare e riguarda il settore della cucina articolato nei minuti dettagli con i tre forni, una scala laterale e il grande focolare centrale parzialmente isolato grazie a pareti che consentono la circolazione laterale senza intralciare i cuochi. Cettina Lenza nota che il disegno di Pâris “costituisce un ricalco letterale della ‘grande Cuisine fort commode & propre’ che Philibert de l’Orme illustrava, con più tavole, nel libro IX dell’Architecture, dichiarando di averla ‘rapporté d’Italie’”. La scoperta è tanto sorprendente che la studiosa italiana, non volendo accreditare l’ipotesi tanto suggestiva che la cucina vista da de l’Orme sia stata proprio quella del Poggioreale napoletano, pensa che Pâris “si sarebbe avvalso di tale modello, dichiaratamente ‘all’italiana’, per integrare le tracce superstiti della villa.”5 Credo che la prudenza della Lenza nel sostenere l’importanza della sua intuizione sia stata eccessiva: i Gasse non hanno rilevato altrove ciò che non vedevano; la localizzazione della cucina proprio nel punto esatto in cui nella Pianta Baratta vediamo emergere dalle strutture un alto camino; il lungo soggiorno di de l’Orme in Italia negli anni quaranta del XVI secolo quando Poggioreale era ancora intatto confermano a mio parere l’identificazione della struttura. 5

Lenza, (2004), 182.

130

Leonardo Di Mauro

Purtroppo proprio quella parte della Villa è stata demolita nella seconda metà del Novecento per costruire un edificio per abitazioni. Il rinvenimento del disegno di Besançon spinge Giulio Pane a correggere il grafico assonometrico eseguito per illustrare il testo del padre Roberto mantenendo la possibilità che il grande spazio aperto centrale fosse copribile con un meccanismo scorrevole e un soffitto a lacunari secondo il modello del vitruviano oecus aegyptius, ma la recente scoperta dei disegni conservati nel Victoria and Albert Museum, pubblicati e studiati da Paola Modesti sembra escludere questa possibilità. Ho già detto che il rinvenimento del disegno ottocentesco di Besançon e la possibilità di misurare l’ambiente della “Venezia” ci permette di dare le misure di altre parti della villa e quindi di restituire alla struttura progettata da Giuliano da Maiano la realtà dimensionale. Da Serlio in poi le misure venivano omesse per fare emergere la sola ‘inventione’ della forma quadrata; ora possiamo affermare che lo spazio scoperto della corte al centro della struttura affiancata da torrette doveva essere un rettangolo di circa metri 35 x 15, quindi agevolmente copribile con un meccanismo ligneo scorrevole o con un telo. In conclusione sorprende sempre vedere come un edificio tanto celebrato in sede teorica sia stato abbandonato a un destino di distruzione che oggi, forse solo con una ricerca e una tutela di tipo archeologico, potrebbe essere fermato visto che, come scriveva Roberto Pane nel 1977, a proposito dell’abbandono del patrimonio ambientale napoletano,:” forse in nessun altro luogo del mondo esso è stato più radicalmente alienato a vantaggio della speculazione privata.”6

Nota bibliografica Beyer, Andreas, Parthenope. Neapel und der Süden der Renaissance, München – Berlin 2000. Blunt, Anthony, The Architecture of Italian Renaissance, in “The Burlington Magazine”, CXIII, 820 (1971), pp. 406 – 410 (recensione a G. L. Hersey, Alfonso II…). Frommel, Christoph Luitpold, Poggioreale: problemi di ricostruzione e di tipologia, in Giuliano e la bottega dei da Maiano, Atti del Convegno, Firenze 1994, pp. 104 – 111. Ghisetti Giavarina, Adriano, Baldassarre Peruzzi a Napoli e la villa di Poggioreale, in “Napoli nobilissima”, XXIII (1984), pp. 17 – 24 Giannetti, Anna, Il giardino napoletano. Dal Quattrocento al Settecento, Napoli 1994. Hersey, G., Poggioreale: Notes on a Reconstruction and an Early Replication, in “Architectura”, III (1973), 1, pp. 13 – 21. Hersey, George L., Alfonso II and the artistic renewal of Naples 1485 – 1495, New HavenLondon 1969. 6

Pane (1975 – 1977), II,

Materiali per la ricostruzione della Villa di Poggioreale a Napoli

131

Keller, Fritz E., Die Zeichnung Uff. 363 A von Baldassarre Peruzzi und das Bad von Poggio Reale, in “Architectura”, III (1973), 1, pp. 22 – 35 Lenza, Cettina, Dal modello al rilievo: la Villa di Poggioreale in una pianta della collezione di Pierre-Adrien Pâris, in “Napoli nobilissima”, s. v, V (2004), pp. 177 – 188. Marshall, David, A view of Poggioreale by Viviano Codazzi and Domenico Gargiulo, in “Journal of The Society of Architectural Historians”, XLV (1986), pp. 32 – 46. Pane, Giulio, Nuove acquisizioni su Poggioreale, in “Napoli nobilissima”, s.v., V (2004), 5 – 6, pp. 189 – 198. Pane, Roberto, Il Rinascimento nell’Italia meridionale, 2 voll., Milano 1975 – 77, II vol. (1977), pp. 35 – 57. Quinterio, Francesco, Giuliano da Maiano “grandissimo domestico”, Roma 1996. Toscano, Gennaro, La villa de Poggio Reale et un relevé inédit de Pierre-Adrien Pâris, in “Journal de la Renaissance”, III, (2005), pp. 165 – 176. Successivamente alla data della conferenza internazionale Vitruvianism: its origins and transformations (Berlin, 14 – 16 luglio 2011) con la comunicazione di L. Di Mauro, Vitruvius and the suburban villa concepts in the fifteenth century qui pubblicata, gli studi su Poggioreale si sono arricchiti di nuovi contributi: M. Visone, La villa di Poggio Reale. Decadenza e trasformazione dal XVI al XIX secolo, in “Rendiconti della Accademia di Archeologia, Lettere e Belle Arti”, vol. LXXVI, 2013, pp. 79 – 94; Leonardo Di Mauro, Strutture e resti visibili della villa di Poggioreale a Napoli, in Il teatro delle arti. Per Marcello Fagiolo: omaggio a cinquant’anni di studi, Roma (2014), pp. 852 – 855; Paola Modesti, Le delizie ritrovate. Poggioreale e la villa del Rinascimento nella Napoli aragonese, Firenze 2014; Fulvio Lenzo, Philibert De l’Orme et les architectures antiques et modernes du royaume de Naples, in “Revue de l’Art”, n. 188 (2015), pp. 41 – 47; Massimo Visone, Poggio Reale rivisitato: preesistenze, genesi e trasformazioni in età vicereale, in Rinascimento meridionale. Napoli e il viceré Pedro de Toledo (1532 – 1553), Atti del Convegno internazionale (Napoli-Pozzuoli 22 – 25 ottobre 2014), in corso di pubblicazione. Nuovi apporti sulla villa si sono avuti in recenti comunicazioni come quella di M. Visone presso l’Accademia di Archeologia, Lettere e Belle Arti (Napoli, 9 novembre 2011) edita in M. Visone, La villa di Poggio Reale cit., e le comunicazioni di L. Di Mauro (Per un recupero archeologico della Villa di Poggioreale), F. Lenzo (Philibert de l’Orme nel Regno di Napoli: le cucine della villa di Poggioreale e un antico edificio termale di Pozzuoli), P. Modesti (Poggioreale restituita: nuove acquisizioni e ricerche) e M. Visone (Il giardino di Poggioreale: declino e perimetrazione) nel Seminario di Dottorato Nuove ricerche sulla villa di Poggioreale, promosso all’interno del progetto dell’ERC HistAntArtSI (Napoli, 26 aprile 2012); ancora quella di P. Modesti, A. Sdegno e D. Pozar (Le delizie ritrovate. Poggioreale e la villa del Rinascimento nella Napoli aragonese) nella giornata di studi Architettura in Italia fra Quattrocento e Cinquecento (Venezia, 9 maggio 2013); infine, la conferenza di L. Di Mauro e M. Visone, Poggio Reale, nel 38 ciclo Palazzi e ville napoletane (Napoli, Palazzo Zevallos Stigliano, 3 dicembre 2014).

„Fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“. Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro. Wissen, Kompetenz und vernünftiges Handeln Werner Oechslin 1. Die Kompetenzfrage […] quamquam ne nunc quidem satis intelligo. ut enim de pictore, scalptore, fictore nisi artifex iudicare, ita nisi sapiens non potest perspicere sapientem. Plinius, epist. I,10. (C.Plinius Attio Clementi suo s., in: C.Plinius Secundi Novocomensis Epistolarum libri X., Venetiis in Aedi. Aldi, et Andreae Asulani Soceri Mense Iunio. 1518, fol. 13 r.)

In Platons Phaidon (60e – 61b) wird berichtet, wie sich Sokrates, da das Schiff der Athener aus Delos zurück gekehrt ist und nun nach Ablauf der entsprechenden Sperrfrist das Todesurteil vollstreckt werden kann, noch ein letztes Mal mit seinen Schülern unterhält. Das Gespräch, das gleichsam bis zur Befreiung der Seele im Tod führen soll, beginnt damit, dass Sokrates, nachdem er von den Fesseln befreit ist und sich die Schenkel reibt, den Eindruck des Angenehmen in der wechselseitigen Abhängigkeit vom Unangenehmen kommentiert und sagt, Äsop hätte dazu sicherlich eine Fabel erfunden. Das lässt Kebes erinnern, dass Sokrates Äsop in Verse übertragen und anderweitig Verse gedichtet hätte, was er doch vor seinem Aufenthalt im Gefängnis nie getan habe. Sokrates berichtet deshalb von einem oft erlebten Traum, in dem er aufgefordert worden sei, Musik zu machen. Diesem Traum gehorchend hätte er – auf den Gott vorab – gedichtet, um sich dann der Fabeln anzunehmen. Allein, da er selbst zur Erfindung von Fabeln nicht tauge und kein ,Mythologikos‘ (luhokocijºr) sei, hätte er Äsop genommen und ihn in Verse gebracht. Für den Dichter gelte andererseits, dass er Fabeln dichten und nicht vernünftige Reden (poie?m l¼hour !kk’ oq kºcour) erfinden soll. Andererseits muss sich auch der Philosoph bescheiden und auf seine Fähigkeiten und Mittel beschränken. Und so verhält es sich generell und betrifft insbesondere auch den Architekten. Weil dessen oft unentschiedene und wechselnde Ausrichtung auf „ars“ oder aber auf die von Vitruv schon im ersten Satz (I,I,1) genannte „scientia“ allein schon für Irritation sorgt, gestaltet sich die Frage, worin er – mehr oder weniger – zuständig sein soll, noch komplizierter. Übrigens soll sich auch er, folgt man Vitruv, in Musik auskennen: „Musicen

134

Werner Oechslin

autem sciat oportet“ (I,I,8). Unvermeidbar setzen hier die Probleme ein, zumal die musikalischen Kenntnisse und Erfordernisse an sich schon mehr als anspruchsvoll sind. Dies lässt Daniele Barbaro in seinem Kommentar (1556) unter Bezug auf Boethius ausführen: „Di queste cose il vulgo non ha dubitatione, i dotti si torcono, i conoscenti si dilettano“. 1 Unterschiedliche Interessen, Kenntnisse und Zugänge, obwohl der Gegenstand derselbe ist! In der Tradition Quintilians wird daraus ein häufig diskutierter Topos: „Docti rationem artis intelligunt, indocti voluptatem“ (Quintilianus, inst., IX.4.116).2 Baldinucci nennt dies in seinem Brief an Vincenzo Capponi 1681 ein „bel principio“, auch wenn das mehr Probleme schafft als löst.3 Denn die Unterscheidung des Rhetorikers zielt hier auf die Wirkung der Rede und lässt – vorerst – den Verursacher der Kunst aussen vor. Allein, es geht nicht bloß um den Umgang mit einem vorhandenen Kunstwerk als viel grundsätzlicher um dessen Entstehung und um die daran geknüpfte Kompetenzfrage. Im Mittelpunkt steht deshalb das in der Ethik grundgelegte Tun und dessen Begleitung durch das auf Erfahrung wie Einsicht beruhende Können und schließlich auch noch das zugehörige Erklären, was schon Vitruv mit seinem Begriff der „ratiocinatio“ ausdrücklich verbindet und präzis als „demonstrare atque explicare“ definiert (I,I,1). Wie sollte man trennen, was zusammengehört – bei Vitruv die „fabrica“ und die „ratiocinatio“ als Teile der umfassenden architektonischen „scientia“ (I,I,1)! Damit sind zwei unterschiedliche Aspekte derselben Sache bezeichnet, deren Verhältnis umso mehr nach präziser Erklärung verlangt. Auch die im „Phaidon“ beschriebene sokratische Unterscheidung von Mythos und Logos endet nicht in einer radikalen Trennung. Schließlich soll Sokrates ja Äsop in Verse gebracht, also doch ,gedichtet‘ haben und ob dies nun ein rein ,rationaler‘ Vorgang sei, ist höchst ungewiss. Mythos und Logos bleiben bei aller unterschiedlichen Orientierung miteinander verbunden, lassen sich nicht auseinander dividieren; und das mündet wiederum in ein neues Problem. Baldinucci fügt dem „bel principio“ Quintilians gleich hinzu, was Plinius „in termini più stretti“ zum Sachverhalt beigetragen habe, und verschärft so die Kompetenzfrage: „De Pictore, Sculptore, & Fictore, nisi Artifex iudicare non potest“. 4 Es gibt einen ,vernünftigen‘, für einige sogar notwendigen inneren Zu1 2 3 4

Cf. Barbaro (1556), 140. In der korrekten Version lautet der meist verkürzt zitierte Satz aus dem der „compositio“ gewidmeten Kapitel: „ideoque docti rationem componendi intellegunt, etiam indocti voluptatem“ . Cf. Baldinucci (1681), 4. Ibidem. – Das ,vollständige‘ Zitat, das die Frage der Zuständigkeit bezüglich der sapientia in den Mittelpunkt stellt, ist hier eingangs nach der Aldus-Ausgabe von 1518 zitiert. Das Beispiel der Kompetenz in den Künsten wird also ,nur‘ als Parallelfall und wohl deshalb erwähnt, weil in diesem Bereich die Zuordnung der Kompetenz an den agens plausibler erscheint.

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

135

sammenhalt von nosse, velle, posse. Oder grob vereinfacht, wer tut, weiss Bescheid und hat allen anderen in Sachen Kompetenz etwas voraus! Noch Schinkel, der das Zusammengehen von Verwirklichung und der in der Darstellung heraustretenden „Critik“ fordert, hält demzufolge fest, dass „Kunstgelehrte, die nicht zugleich practische Künstler sind, allemal weit von der höchsten Critik u[nd] deßhalb von der höchsten Einsicht in die Kunst entfernt sind.“5 Nisi artifex! Schinkel doppelt nach: „Wer auf sie [= die Kunstgelehrten] allein etwas hält, ist ein Dummkopf in der Kunst.“ Schinkel begründet seine Position, indem er die Beherrschung des architektonischen métier als Bedingung der Urteilsfähigkeit voraussetzt: „Denn nur durch das schöpferische, welches aufs practische geht/ zugleich aber das höhere Bedürfniß befriedigt / wird die wahre Critik herbei geführt.“6 Die Diskussion zur Kompetenzfrage ist längst eröffnet – und bleibt bis heute umstritten.

2. Vitruv, Daniele Barbaro und die Habituslehre Aristoteles’ M. [Michele Barozzi] Che andate pensando cosi soletto M. Daniele? certo, il cielo peripatetico non dee essere il paradiso dell’anime, che studiandolo (come voi fate) voi non sareste si maninconico, D. [Daniele Barbaro] Ad altro cielo era volto il mio animo, che non è quel d’Aristotile; il qual cielo qualunque volta io’l considera col suo divin splendore m’empie il petto di quella nobile maraviglia, che voi chiamate maninconia. Daniele Barbaro (Hg.), I Dialogi di Messer Speron Speroni, Venezia: Aldus 1542, fol. 36 r

Der ganze Problemkreis ist schon bei Vitruv diskutiert und mit Blick auf die Kompetenzfrage des Architekten beurteilt worden. Dementsprechend geht auch Daniele Barbaro in seinem Vitruvkommentar von 1556 auf diese Fragen in besonders privilegierender Weise ein. Noch bevor er Vitruvs ersten Satz „architectura est scientia“ (I,I,1) kommentiert und dabei die unterschiedlichen Optionen vom „principale, & capo“ zum „fabro ò artefice“, zum „capo maestra“ oder aber zu Platos Ansicht als „soprastante à quelli, che usano i mestieri“ in Betracht zieht,7 befasst er sich im „Proemio“ in grundsätzlicher Absicht mit der Frage des Habitus des Architekten. Ganz offensichtlich scheinen ihm die entsprechenden Erörterungen in der Nikomachischen Ethik Aristoteles’ den passenden Rahmen abzugeben; sie stellen die für die weitere Darstellung gültige Autorität in dieser Frage her. Das betrifft zumindest die erste italienische Ausgabe von 1556, für die der „cielo peripatetico“ seine Gültigkeit zu haben

5 6 7

Cf. Oechslin (2012a), 15. Ibidem. Cf. Barbaro (1556), 7.

136

Werner Oechslin

scheint;8 die lateinische, wohl schon früher oder gar gleichzeitig entstandene,9 jedoch später angepasste lateinische Variante von 1567 zeigt sich diesbezüglich unter einer völlig veränderten Perspektive und beginnt notabene mit einem überschwänglichen Lob der Architektur als „sola omnium artium princeps, & domina“, ja als „Regina artificiorum“ und als an der „sapientia“ teilhabend.10 Barbaro hat sich der Architektur nach der kritischen Zurückhaltung von 1556, bei der die Architektur in erster Linie als auf ein „vero contingente“ ausgerichtete „ars“ erscheint, nunmehr in entschiedener, begeisterter Überzeugung zugewandt. Die erste italienische Ausgabe des Vitruvkommentars enthält genügend Elemente, um dies als einen Prozess zu verstehen, bei dem Palladio durchaus eine wichtige Rolle zukommt.11 Zuvor im „Proemio“ von 1556, das auch in der italienischen Version von 1567 wiederholt wird, erscheint der aristotelische Rahmen umso mehr in den Vordergrund gerückt, als damit gestützt durch die Autorität des Philosophen die entscheidenden Gesichtspunkte bezüglich der Architektur in aller Klarheit exponiert und diskutiert werden können.12 Darauf kommt es Daniele Barbaro in dieser Situation ganz offensichtlich an. Unverkennbar ist, dass ihm an dieser umfassenderen, philosophischen Einbettung der architektonischen Frage und somit an einem Verständnis der Architektur in diesem größeren Zusammenhang gelegen ist. Dementsprechend und in dieser Absicht hatte er sich 1556 zu Beginn des Vitruvkommentars – allem voran – dazu bekannt, den „studiosi delle artificiose inventioni“ zu dienen, um letztlich im Rahmen menschlicher Tätigkeiten („humani nati siamo“) und menschlichen Vermögens („l’un l’altro aiutamo“) der den Künsten innewohnenden „verità“ nachzuspüren und dies zusammen mit dem „splendore delle virtù“ und der „gloria“ aufzuzeigen.13 Daniele Barbaro folgt solcher ethischer Grundlegung und widmet ihr 1556, aufbauend auf der aristotelischen Habituslehre, das „Proemio“ seines Vitruv-

8 Siehe die eingangs dieses Kapitels zitierte, Daniele Barbaro in den Mund gelegte Formulierung Sperone Speronis, der damit den Dialog „Della Dignità delle Donne“ einleitet. 9 Manuela Morresi dokumentiert diese Annahme mit dem der Erwähnung des „similmente il comento latino supra il ditto authore“ im Zusammenhang mit dem Francesco Marcolini erteilten Druckprivileg vom 30. Juni 1556. Cf. Morresi (1987), xli und liv Anm. 3. 10 Cf. Barbaro (1567), 1. 11 Dazu gehören die beobachteten konkreten Schwierigkeiten und Anpassungen im Zusammenhang mit den von Palladio für die Vitruvausgabe von 1556 hergestellten Bildvorlagen; vgl. unten und Oechslin (2012b). 12 In der Folge beziehe ich mich – Ausnahmen vorbehalten – lediglich auf die Erstausgabe des Kommentars von 1556. Eine vergleichende Studie des „Proemio“ durch den Verf., die sämtliche Barbaro-Editionen berücksichtigt, ist seit längerer Zeit in Vorbereitung. 13 Cf. Barbaro (1556), 5.

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

137

kommentars.14 Der Zusammenhang der ethischen Frage mit der Architektur ist seit Leonbattista Alberti gegeben und längst in den Vordergrund gerückt. Alberti hatte ja seinerseits das „ad vitam bene beateque agendam“ an den Anfang des Prologs von „De Re Aedificatoria“ gestellt und zu Beginn des vierten Buches das „aedificia hominum esse causa constituta“ als unumstössliche Tatsache („in promptu est“) gesetzt. Bei Aristoteles bezieht sich die Ausrichtung auf das summum bonum und die Zielsetzung des Glückstrebens auf das ganze Spektrum menschlicher Möglichkeiten und Befähigungen, ist also in keinerlei Weise – gemäß moderner ,funktionalistischer‘ Vorstellungen bloßen Nützlichkeitsdenkens – auf Nutzanwendungen beschränkt. So ist es auch insbesondere das Erkenntnisvermögen und der „moOr poigtijºr“, die ,schöpferische Vernunft‘, die hier in Betracht gezogen werden.15 Es bleibt dann unterschiedlicher Beurteilung vorbehalten, wie sich die verschiedenen Teile aristotelischer Erörterung und Begriffsfindung in ein Ganzes zusammenfügen lassen.16 Solches unternimmt nun Barbaro in der Absicht, den Habitus des Architekten genauer zu situieren und zu charakterisieren. Er denkt dabei keineswegs bloß aristotelisch17 (auch nicht ,eklektisch aristotelisch‘18 !), sondern wohl eher im Bild der durch eine christliche pietas geprägten „Aurea Catena“, für die – dort gegen die häretischen zentrifugalen Kräfte gerichtet – allein der Zusammenhalt entscheidend ist.19 Barbaro ist sich nicht nur der dem Philosophen drohenden Melancholie gemäß der supponierten Aussage in Sperone Speronis Dialog „Della Dignità delle Donne“, sondern auch allerlei ,intellektueller‘ Versuchungen bewusst. (In der „Catena Aurea“ warnt er vor der „insana quidem 14 Auf diesen Zusammenhang hat schon Pierre Caye (1995) unabhängig von der anderweitigen Akzentsetzung seiner hervorragenden Analyse hingewiesen. 15 Dazu weiterführend u. a. (auch wenn der Autor gerade nicht auf die unterschiedlichen Ausgaben und Varianten des Aristotelestextes eingeht): Pozzo (2007), 263. 16 Vgl. dazu ausführlich: Kraye (1988). 17 Für eine ausführlichere Analyse dieses Sachverhaltes verweise ich auf die bereits erwähnte angekündigte Studie zum „Proemio“. Zur Präzisierung des – selbständigen – Verhältnisses Daniele Barbaros zu dem in seinem Umfeld allgegenwärtigen Aristotelismus sei stellvertretend auf das Urteil von Wilhelm Risse zu Barbaros „Exquisitae in Porphirium Commentationes“ von 1542 verwiesen; er nennt Barbaros Darstellung „völlig aus dem Rahmen der überlieferten Logiktradition herausfallend“. Das entspricht, in positiver Brechung, den hier geäußerten Gedanken! Cf. Risse (1964), 234. 18 Dieser für Daniele Barbaro gelegentlich in Anspruch genommene Begriff scheint mir keinen Sinn zu machen. Dort wo Barbaro Aristoteles folgt, ist er präzis; und auf seinem Weg zu einer in guter christlich-humanistischer Tradition aufgehobenen, gesamtheitlichen Sicht verfährt er keineswegs eklektisch, sondern durch und durch integrierend und synthetisch. Überzeugender scheint mir umgekehrt die Formulierung von Giovanni Santinello ([1991], 30) zu den u. a. mit Zabarella verbundenen „fiduciosi e meno problematici maestri aristotelici dello Studio di Padova“ zu sein. 19 Dieser Aspekt zu recht betont bei: Alberigo (1964), 94. – Cf. Barbaro (1569), o.S. [fol. ,A 2‘ verso].

138

Werner Oechslin

docendi, interpretandi, ac iudicando libido“!20) Auch für die wissenschaftlichen Anliegen ist der Blick auf die Synthese und das Ganze der entscheidende Punkt und darin scheint für Barbaro der eigentliche Grund und Mittelpunkt seiner ethischen Überzeugungen zu liegen. Ausgangspunkt der Argumentation in seinem „Proemio“ bildet deshalb nicht überraschend die umgangssprachliche Redewendung vom „buon’ habito“ und die Feststellung: „Diverse sono le qualità delle cose“. 21 Von hier aus führt Barbaro zur Unterscheidung des Habitus nach „intelletto“ und „volontà“ und der Zuordnung zum „vero necessario“ und zum „vero contingente“.22 Die fünf in ihrer Ausrichtung auf Wahrheitssuche relevanten Habitusformen, nämlich „ars, scientia, prudentia, sapientia, intellectus“, die Aristoteles im dritten Kapitel des sechsten Buches der Nikomachischen Ethik – unter Ausscheidung aller bloß an Vermutung und Meinung gebundenen Formen – auflistet und abhandelt, stellt Barbaro gemäß dieser Unterscheidung in einen systematischen Zusammenhang. Er gelangt dabei zu einer Ordnung, die erstaunlich präzis derjenigen entspricht, die später auch Jacopo Zabarella in seinen einflussreichen, erstmals in Venedig 1578 publizierten „Opera Logica“ zur Darstellung bringt, indem er die an die „necessitas“ gebundenen scientia, intellectus und sapientia von den ,bloß‘ kontingenten Habitusformen von prudentia und ars unterscheidet:23 „duos vero contingentium, quae in nostrae voluntatis arbitrio sunt constitutae, prudentiam & artem“. 24 Bei Barbaro ist das längst auf die Architektur ausgerichtet und darauf bezogen gedeutet. Die „prudenza“ als „habito moderatore delle attioni humane, & civili“ wirkt auf den Willen; die „ars“, an deren ersten Stelle die „Architetti“ und danach die „Soldati, Agricoltori, Fabri, & finalmente Artefici“ aufgeführt sind, bezieht sich auf Unternehmungen, die auf Objekte in der äusseren Welt ausgerichtet sind („che ricercano alcuna materia esteriore“) und Barbaro diesen Habitus – als für die Architektur verbindlich – in der (ethisch relevanten) Wirkung beschreiben lassen, „che la dispone fermamente à fare, & operare drittamente, & con ragione fuori di se, cose utili alla vita“. 25

20 Ibidem. 21 Cf. Barbaro (1556), 6. 22 Vgl. bisher insbesondere zu diesem Sachverhalt und insgesamt zu unserer Fragestellung: Santinello (1991), 91 – 115 (Filosofia e Architettura in Daniele Barbaro), bes. 103. 23 Cf. Zabarella (1578), 1 ff. (Liber Primus, Caput Secundum de rerum, ac disciplinarum divisione). 24 Idem 3. – Es folgt hier die – in unserem Zusammenhang bedeutsame – Aussage zum andersgearteten Stellenwert der Logik („[…] non bene possumus intelligere qualis habitus logica sit, nisi aliquam ipsorum habituum notitiam habeamus“). Vgl. dazu: Vasoli (1985), svi f. 25 Cf. Barbaro (1556), 6.

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

139

3. „Ratio practica“. Vernünftiges Handeln! […] ergo ratio practica est principium cuiuslibet actionis, atque effectionis Silvester Mauro, Aristotelis Opera, Tomus Secundus continens philosohiam moralem…, Roma: Angelo Bernabò 1668, S.160 Es sind also practische Regeln unter einer problematischen Bedingung des Willens. Hier aber sagt die Regel: man solle schlechthin auf gewisse Weise verfahren. Immanuel Kant, Critik der practischen Vernunft, Riga: Johann Friedrich Hartknoch, 1788, S. 55 (Grundgesetz der reinen praktischen Vernunft)

Man wird somit Palladios „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“, wenn man es denn nicht bloß als beiläufige Redewendung belassen möchte, auch auf dieses „operare drittamente“ beziehen dürfen, ganz nach dem Motto ,machen, nicht reden‘. Zum Habitus des „intelletto“ gesellt sich nun – ganz im Sinne der Erörterung Barbaros – der Habitus der „volontà“, das Wollen, das mit den „cose fatte da gli huomini“ unvermeidbar stets verbunden und darauf ausgerichtet ist. Andererseits fällt der Blick auf das genauso unvermeidbare, auch von Barbaro hinzugefügte, den intellektuellen Anteil des Handelns betonende „con ragione“. Am Ende der ausführlichen Habitusdiskussion zu Kunst, Wissenschaft, Klugheit, Weisheit und Verstand im „Proemio“ ist nun gleichsam das für den Künstler und Architekten relevante „con ragione“ übriggeblieben und zur „ratio practica“26 zusammengeführt worden, die auf diese Formel gebracht und verallgemeinert an einen geradezu modern anmutenden, umfassenden Vernunftbegriff gemahnt: ,praktische Vernunft‘! Vernünftiges Handeln ist gefordert! 27 Auch dies ist bezogen auf die Architektur längst vorweggenommen und in unterschiedlichen Schattierungen diskutiert worden. Bei Vitruv (I,I,1) trifft es sich mit dem Begriffspaar von „fabrica“ und „ratiocinatio“, für dessen unabdingbare, gegenseitige Ergänzung er sich ja stark macht. Alberti nimmt seinerseits das mit der vitruvianischen „ratiocinatio“ verbundene oder zumindest in Parallele gesetzte „cum ratione“ auf. Er modifiziert dies insofern, als er im Prolog zu seinem „De Re Aedificatoria“ das „cum ratione“ auf beide Anteile der künstlerischen Handlung, auf die (vorausgehende) Vorstellung und geistige Tätigkeit, („tum mente animoque“) wie die tätige Umsetzung („tum et opere 26 Diese Formulierung im Kommentar des für seine ,vollständige‘ Publikation der aristotelischen Schriften zur Ethik bekannten Jesuiten Silvester Mauro. Er argumentiert hier, so wie das bei Aristoteles öfters geschieht, mit dem Beispiel des Architekten: „aedificator aedificat propter domum, quae sit utilis hominibus ad aliquem usum, hoc est ad habitandum: proportionaliter qui agit, agit propter finem, & bonum ipsius actionem immanentis; sed ratio practica proponit finem, & bonum, appetitus illud appetit; ergo ratio practica est principium cuiuslibet actionis, atque effectionis“ (Mauro [1668], 160). 27 Vgl. dazu den zu Beginn des Kapitels zitierten Passus aus Kants „Grundgesetz der reinen praktischen Vernunft“ (cf. Kant [1788], 55). – Vgl. auch weiterführend: Oechslin (2012c); Oechslin (2013a).

140

Werner Oechslin

absolvere“) bezieht, was in Barbaros späterer Diktion dem Konzipieren „nella mente humana“, respektive dem Ausführen „fuori di se“ entspricht. Alberti präzisiert an dieser Stelle das „cum ratione“ mit der Formulierung „certa admirabilique ratione et via“. Längst ist das Handeln um die Ausrichtung auf Methode und Verfahren ergänzt und vervollständigt worden. Zwar ist man noch lange nicht bei Kants kategorischem Imperativ angelangt, allein die Einbettung des menschlichen, an Wille und Vernunft gekopptelten Handelns im Rahmen einer Ethik ist längst erfolgt und hat die Architektur erreicht – in direkter Anbindung an Aristoteles Ausführungen in der Nikomachischen Ethik bei Daniele Barbaro. Seither ist dem bloßen ,kompetenten‘, ausführenden Tun das Wissen um dessen Verbindung mit gesellschaftlichen und menschlichen Bedürfnissen und Zielsetzungen als verbindlich eingeprägt und lediglich dadurch geschwächt, als es dem „vero contingente“ und nicht der Notwendigkeit zugeordnet ist. Das wird die Architektur noch lange irritieren und beschäftigen. Doch vorerst bedarf es keiner weiteren Begründung: „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“! Schließlich hatte doch schon Aristoteles im zweiten Kapitel des sechsten Buches der Nikomachischen Ethik deutlich auf diese Zusammenhänge verwiesen, die uns die Vernunft nur in Verbindung mit menschlichem Willen und Wahrheitsbedürfnis und in der Ausrichtung auf das Tun als eine sinnvolle ,praktische Vernunft‘ erkennen lassen. „Sensus“ – und natürlich nicht dieser allein! –, „mens“ und „appetitus“ sind die gemäß Aristoteles „in anima“ gegebenen „agendi principia“, oder bilden – später in anderer Übersetzung – das „in anima actionis, ac veritatis dominium“.28 Sie stellen das „raciocinari“ in ihren Dienst. Beiläufig bemerkt man, dass die „ratiocinatio“, die bei Aristoteles im dritten Kapitel des sechsten Buches der Nikomachischen Ethik noch präzis mit ,Syllogismus‘, dem deduktiven Verfahren – im Kontrast zur Induktion – gleichgesetzt wird, eine erstaunliche Vielfalt variierender Bedeutungen und möglicher Anwendungen oft in Überlappung durchläuft. Bei Vitruv ist die Verbindung mit dem „demonstrare atque explicare“, dem Aufzeigen und Erklären und dies wiederum nach Massgabe („pro portione“) von Kunstfertigkeit und Überlegung, durchaus im Sinne ,praktischer Vernunft‘ gegeben. „Discorso“ lautet dies folgerichtig in der Übersetzung von Daniele Barbaro. Schließlich ist ja schon bei Aristoteles die „scientia“ – und darauf bezieht sich ja die vitruvianische Definition – ein Habitus „demonstrationis“, was später Silvester Mauro das „omnis scientia potest doceri, ac per doctrinam communicari“ erläutern und zudem auf die knappe Formel „omne scibile potest disci“ bringen lässt.29 Und stets lässt die 28 Cf. Mauro (1668), 158. 29 Cf. ibidem.

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

141

kurze Formel an jenes „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“ denken. Man soll es auf den Punkt bringen! Das geschieht letztlich auch mit der Definition der Kunst, der ars respektive der t´wmg, wie sie im vierten Kapitel des sechsten Buches der Nikomachischen Ethik Aristoteles’ vorgegeben ist. In der damals wohl am häufigsten benützten lateinischen Version Argyropoulos’ lautet die Definition: „habitus faciendi vera cum ratione“. Im Vordergrund steht somit das Tun – bei Barbaro verdeutlicht als „fare, & operare drittamente“ – in der Verbindung mit der intellektuellen Befähigung der ratio. Bei Aristoteles, der das Beispiel des Bauens bemüht, wird dies in doppelter, gleichsam aus der Not logischer Korrektheit und Vollständigkeit geborener Weise – stets in der Version Argyropoulos’ – formuliert: „Atqui cum extruendarum edium facultas ars quadam sit ac habitus quidam faciendi cum ratione: nullaque sit ars quae non sit habitus faciendi cum ratione: nec ullus habitus talis qui non sit ars: fit ut idem sit ars atque habitus faciendi vera cum ratione.“30 Man hatte also gute Gründe, gerade die Architektur, die hier stellvertretend für alle Künste erscheint, auf diese Definition zurückzuführen. In evidenter Übereinstimmung mit Vitruvs „ex fabrica et ratiocinatione“ gebildeter „scientia“ ist diese Definition dutzendfach in Architekturbüchern, so oder anders variiert, als verbindliche Definition weitertradiert worden. Im „Epitome Librorum Aristotelis Ethicorum“ Ermolao Barbaros, das dessen öffentliche Vorlesungen in Padua in den 1470er Jahren zusammenfasst, und das an die mehrfach aufgelegte Publikation der Übersetzung Jacques Périons angefügt wurde, sind alle wesentlichen Punkte zusammengeführt: „Est ergo ars, habitus fingendi 31 cum ratione. In constitutione autem operis artificiarij, et cogitatione et fabricatione opus est: pertinetque ars ad eas res dumtaxat, quae contingentes sunt, quaeque principium intra se non habent affectuum, sed extrinsecus ab artifice agitantur.“32 Daniele Barbaro hat dem Epitome seines Verwandten und Amtsvorgängers als Patriarch von Aquileia einen Alessandro Farnese gewidmeten Brief vorangestellt, in dem er aus gegebenem Anlass des kurzgefassten „Epitome“ gegen die falschen Erwartungen äusseren Glanzes das Suchen nach der einfachen, nackten Wahrheit als Zweck von Büchern in Erinnerung ruft.33 Er lobt so neben der „elegantia & puritas admirabilis“ die „brevitas“ des Textes des Ermolaos, auch dies zum „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“ passend! Ermolao hätte auf diese 30 Cf. Aristoteles 1496, fol.172 recto – 122 [=222] verso: fol. 199 recto. 31 Zur Differenz fictio/actio (effectio/actio) vgl. unten. 32 Cf. [Aristoteles] Hermolaus Barbarus (1545), 415 ff.; 473 f. (benütztes Exemplar: Universitätsbibliothek Basel über e-rara). – Cranz (1971)) gibt für die Ausgaben Aurel.Index n.107.989/Basel 1540, 108.141/Lyon 1548 jeweils Daniele Barbaro als Herausgeber, nicht aber für die hier benützte Ausgabe 108.097 (vgl. die folgende Anmerkung). 33 Cf. Barbaro (1545a).

142

Werner Oechslin

Weise „mentem & ordinem“ des aristotelischen Textes in erstaunlicher Weise auf den Punkt gebracht: „Ut mirum fuerit, Aristotelis brevitate brevius aliquid inveniri.“ 34

4. Praktische Vernunft, Erfahrung und „sapienza“. Und die Kritik Vitruvs an Pytheos und bloßem (Experten-)Wissen „Il nascimento dell’Arti da principio è debole, ma col tempo acquista forza, & vigore.“ „[…] & però Vitr. Vuole che la Isperienza sia con la cognitione accompagnata.“ Daniele Barbaro, Proemio, S. 6

Die praktische Vernunft, die mit dem Habitus der Kunst einhergeht, erfüllt sich also im Tun, was Daniele Barbaro in seiner Formulierung in aller Deutlichkeit unterstreicht: „che la dispone fermamente à fare, & operare drittamente, & con ragioni fuori di se“. Es ist deshalb nur folgerichtig, dass Barbaro der Diskussion – und Ordnung – der aristotelischen Habituslehre im seinem „Proemio“ zum Vitruvkommentar noch eine andere, diesmal der Metaphysik entnommene Einsicht Aristoteles’ folgen lässt: „nasce ogni Arte dalla Isperienza“.35 Es geht Barbaro im „Proemio“ zu Vitruv konkret um die Architektur, weshalb er sich in besonderer Weise auf die Habituslehre Aristoteles’ beruft und sie mit den Prinzipien und Empfehlungen Vitruvs zu verbinden sucht. Zu Beginn der Metaphysik steht andererseits der Satz, dass die Erfahrung auf das Einzelne, die Kunst hingegen auf das Allgemeine ausgerichtet sei; es steht dort auch, dass die Erfahrung dem Handeln näher steht. Und in der Übersetzung Bessarions steht dann der Satz: „Per experientiam autem ars, & scientia hominibus efficitur.“ 36 Zuvor liest man dort grundsätzlich: „Humanum autem genus, arte etiam, ac ratiocinationibus“. Die erste – berühmte – Aussage der Metaphysik des „Omnes homines natura scire desiderant“ wird unausweichlich auf das Tun erweitert; das „efficitur“, das Hervorbringen, die po¸gsir muss in erster Linie interessieren, wenn die Rede von der auf der doppelten Basis von „fabrica“ und „ratiocinatio“ stehenden Architektur sein soll. Barbaro kann jetzt die Erfahrung mit dem geklärten Begriff der „ars“ zusammenbringen, um dann aus der Differenz heraus prompt festzustellen: „l’Arte è piu eccellente, & piu degna della Isperienza“.37 Sie sei mehr als „il semplice, & puro esperto“. Ja, die Kunst sei der Weisheit durchaus nahe, was er aus der nachfolgenden Feststellung zurückschließt: „Segno manifesto del sapere è il poter insegnare, & ammaestrare altrui“. Zeilen 34 35 36 37

Ibidem, 413. Cf. Barbaro (1556), 6. Cf. Aristoteles (1549), col. 1369. Cf. Barbaro (1556), 6.

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

143

später folgt die Absicherung dieser auf der Erfahrung basierenden, jedoch über sie hinauswachsenden „ars“: „& però Vitr. vuole che la Isperienza sia con la cognitione accompagnata“. Damit ist die Definition der aus „fabrica“ und „ratiocinatio“ bestehenden architektonischen „scientia“ (I,I,1) und die entsprechende Grundlegung aus Aristoteles’ Nikomachischer Ethik wieder miteinbezogen. Die Habituslehre bleibt der Sockel zur Beurteilung menschlichen Tuns und der vitruvianische Dualismus von „fabrica“ und „ratiocinatio“ hält sich an jene Vorgaben; sie lässt sich – bei Daniele Barbaro – in die näher liegenden Bilder vom „discorso“ und der „prontezza di mano“ übertragen. Dieser Einsicht stand die maßlose, irritierende Forderung eines schier unbegrenzten Wissens gegenüber, die Vitruv in einem ganzen Katalog notwendiger und nützlicher Kenntnisse ausbreitet, über die der Architekt verfügen müsse. Doch er fügt dem kritische Bemerkungen hinzu. Wonach sich das zu richten habe, wie es zu ermessen sei, präzisiert Vitruv in der Auseinandersetzung mit Pytheos, dessen Autorität („qui Prieni aedem Minervae nobiliter est architectatus“; I,I,12) er zwar ausdrücklich anerkennt. Allein, es entzündet sich eine scharfe Kritik an Pytheos’ Forderung, der Architekt müsse alles und dies auch noch besser wissen und können („plus oportere posse facere, quam qui singulas res […] perduxerunt“; I,I,12). Vitruv wirft Pytheos vor, er hätte nicht unterscheiden wollen oder können, dass es stets um zweierlei ginge, um das Können und Tun und andererseits um die Einsicht und das Verstehen: „ex duabus rebus singulas artes esse compositas, ex opere et eius ratiocinatione“ (Vitruv I,I,15). Hier liegt der entscheidende Punkt der Argumentation. Vitruv wiederholt an dieser Stelle de facto seine einleitende Definition der Architektur als einer aus verschiedenen Disziplinen und Wissensformen zusammengesetzten Wissenschaft, die „ex fabrica et ratiocinatione“ entstehe (Vitruv I,I,1). In der italienischen Übersetzung Barbaros sind diese Begriffe wirklichkeitsnah mit „opera“ und „discorso“ gegeben. Und dabei wird schon bei Vitruv selbst das in der aristotelischen Habituslehre vordringlich betonte ,Hervorbringen‘ – die von der „actio“ unterschiedene „effectio“ – in seiner Bedeutung für die Künste unterstrichen. Vitruvs Wortwahl ist an dieser Stelle – komplementär zur „ratio“ – der „operis effectus“ (I,I,15). Der ,Nachteil‘ des ,bloß‘ dem „vero contingente“ zugeordnet zu sein, ist auch der Vorteil; es findet in unserer Welt statt, die Dinge geschehen „fuori di se“ statt, was den Horizont der Erfüllung ethischer Zielsetzung erst richtig eröffnet: „cose utili alla vita“. Das stimmt überein mit dem Verständnis der po¸gsir, des vom bloßen Handeln deutlich unterschiedenen Hervorbringens, das Aristoteles im vierten Kapitel des sechsten Buches der Nikomachischen Ethik ausgerechnet mit dem Beispiel des Bauens illustriert.

144

Werner Oechslin

5. Die po¸gsir, die Differenz von actio und effectus; „discorso“ und der Habitus des Aufzeigens und Demonstrierens „Omne scibile potest disci, & per disciplinam acquiri eius scientia“ Silvester Mauro, Aristotelis Opera, Tomus Secundus continens philosophiam moralem…, Roma: Angelo Bernabò 1668, S. 161

Deshalb muss man nochmals zurückgehen und sich erinnern, dass Aristoteles jenes Hervorbringen genau dort diskutiert, wo er den Habitus der Kunst definiert. Es geht um „po¸gsir“ und „pq²nir“, um die Unterscheidung und Abgrenzung bloßen Tuns vom Hervorbringen, und kurz danach auch um „t´wmg“ und „t¼wg“, um das Können (oder eben ,Kunst‘) und den – in der Metaphysik mit Mangel an Erfahrung zusammengebrachten – Zufall. Die Überlegenheit des ,Hervorbringens‘ ergibt sich daraus, dass sein Zweck über sich selbst hinausreicht. Und die Möglichkeit von Kunst und Zufall weist darauf hin, dass nebst der ihrerseits mit Erinnerung gekoppelten Erfahrung ein vernünftiger Grund allem Tun zugrundegelegt werden müsse. Nicht umsonst kommt deshalb bei Aristoteles – und danach in Barbaros „Proemio“ – die ,Klugheit‘, die „prudentia“ und danach der „intellectus“ und die „sapientia“, die „vqºmgsir“, der „moOr“ und die „sov¸a“ zur Sprache. Es musste einem damaligen Leser auffallen, dass Aristoteles bei der Diskussion der Klugheit auf Perikles zu sprechen kommt und dabei die Notwendigkeit des Urteils betont, und dass andererseits die ebenfalls in diesem Kontext zitierten Phidias und Polyklet mit der – der Vollendung zugeordneten – Weisheit zusammengesehen werden. Aus dem Zusammenhang ergibt sich einmal mehr, dass die Ethik ohnehin den weiteren Rahmen des künstlerischen Tuns bestimmt und bestimmen muss. Die Ethik ist aufs innigste mit der Kunst verbunden, gerade weil diese über sich selbst hinaus verweisen muss. Auch der Umstand, dass Aristoteles im nächstfolgenden achten Kapitel im sechsten Buch seiner Nikomachischen Ethik auf die innere Verwandtschaft von Klugheit und Staatskunst verweist und dazu die Begriffe „aqwitejtomij¶ vqºmgsir, molohetij¶“ aneinanderreiht, lässt unmissverständlich den größeren Sinnzusammenhang des architektonischen Tuns erkennen. Kants „Architektonik“, die im methodischen Teil der Kritik der reinen Vernunft eine prominente Stellung einnimmt, ist hier längst angedacht und damit die umfassendere Bedeutung des der Architektur innewohnenden „intellectus“ und „moOr“. In Argyropulos’ lateinischer Übertragung stehen schon im Titel die mit der „prudentia“ gleichgesetzte „civilis facultas“. Das ordnungsstiftende ,Architektonische‘ wird bei Aristoteles mit der gesetzgeberischen ,Nomothetik‘ zusammengebracht. Die Übersetzung Argyropoulos’ lautet – der Gleichsetzung von „civilis facultas“ und „prudentia“ nachfolgend – demgemäß: „Ea quidem quae est ut architectura

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

145

prudentia: legum est ferendarum facultas“.38 Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples wird nicht müde an dieser Stelle eine ganze Reihe von Belegen zur ,Staatsklugheit‘ beizubringen.39 Alles findet sich also unter diesem Aspekt sinnstiftender Ordnung zwecks Situierung menschlichen Tuns mit ethischer Zielsetzung und Verankerung vereinigt, Architektur, Klugheit und Gesetzgebung. Ganz im Sinne Aristoteles und seiner Interpreten ist dabei der Architektur nebst den dem Habitus der Kunst zugewiesenen Vorzügen noch eine viel umfassendere Bedeutung zugewachsen. Umgekehrt wird Barbaro am Ende seines „Proemio“ gerade dort, wo sich noch mehr, „Divinationi“ gemischt aus „inspiratione divina, & inventione humana“, ergibt, einen Trennstrich vornehmen, um wieder an das tägliche Geschäft der Architektur „alla commodità, & uso de’mortali“ zu erinnern.40 In dieser Absicht hatte Aristoteles seine Nikomachische Ethik mit dem Satz – in der lateinischen Version Argyropoulos’ – eröffnet: „Omnis ars, omnisque doctrina atque actus, itidem electio, Bonum quoddam appetere videtur.“ Die Aussage aus dem ersten Kapitel der Metaphysik, dass der Mensch der Kunst zuneigt und vernunftbegabt sei („Humanum autem genus, arte etiam, ac ratiocinationibus“41), wird hier in den Handlungszusammenhang gestellt und auf die ethische Frage ausgerichtet. (Aristoteles hat schon an jener, unmittelbar nachfolgenden Stelle der Metaphysik auf die Erfahrung als Grundlage und Ausgangspunkt der Kunst verwiesen.) Die Künste sind also von Anfang an aufgefordert an dieser menschlichen und gesellschaftlichen Sinnstiftung durch ihre Tätigkeit und durch ihr ,Hervorbringen‘ mitzutun. Architektur ist Ethik. Das ist es, was es zu erläutern gibt und was Barbaro in seinem „Proemio“ auf Aristoteles wie auf Vitruv basierend und diese in seinem Verständnis zusammenführend darlegt. Auf diese Weise erfüllt sich das humanistische Streben, dem der ganzheitliche Blick, nicht nur im Sinne eines Bildungszuammenhangs, sondern als auf das Leben gerichtete Sinnstiftung eigen ist.42 Nicht umsonst verwickelt Daniele Barbaro in seinem Dialog „Dell’ Eloquenzia“ Kunst und Natur und „l’ Anima“ in ein Gespräch.43 Die Rhetorik erweist sich auf besondere Weise als der beste Weg, alles auf das gemeinsame Ziel hinzuführen. „Mentis quidem interpres est oratio“. Und die oratio sorgt dafür, dass die Sinne und die Seele bewegt werden, sodass gemäß 38 Cf. Aristoteles (1496), fol. 100 [= 200] recto. 39 Cf. [Aristoteles] (1505), fol. H [viii] verso f. – Zur Klärung hat Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples den Teilsatz zur ,Architektonik‘ der Gesetzgebung in der Übersetzung Argyropoulos’ in Klammer gesetzt: „ea quidem (que est ut architectura) prudentia/ legum est ferendarum facultas“ (Id., fol. h [viii] recto.) 40 Cf. Barbaro (1556), 7. 41 Cf. mit anderer Akzentsetzung [Aristotelis] (1549), col. 1369. 42 Vgl. dazu Angelini (1999), 180 und passim. 43 Daniele Barbaro (1557).

146

Werner Oechslin

Cicero das „in animis imprimuntur“ als Wirkung erreicht werden kann, so wie das beispielsweise Jacques Périon in seinen „Annotationes in librum Aristotelis de Interpretatione“ ausführt.44 Die Mitteilung und Unterrichtung, die ,Bildung‘ sind auch für Daniele Barbaro und sein humanistisches Weltbild von vorrangiger Bedeutng. In der Widmung des „Compendium Scientiae Naturalis“ seines Verwandten Ermolao an Pietro Bembo schreibt er: „Pulchrum est literis operam dare, pulchrius in ijs proficere, Pulcherrimum eas alios facile perdocere, ac ut nihil est, hac docendi facilitate, sic dicam, difficilius ita plurimum sese iuvari homines sentiunt, qui planos faciles apertos doctores nacti fuerint. Et certe nullum iam comparatae doctrinae signum efficacius est, quam ut quae quisque novit, ea commode alijs declarare posse.“ 45 Den Inhalt des letzten Satzes setzt er später auch ins „Proemio“ zum Vitruvkommentar. Dort lautet diese – Vitruvs „ratiocinatio“ zugeordnete – Einsicht: „Segno manifesto del sapere è il poter insegnare, & ammaestrare altrui“. Das erklärt auch den tieferen Sinn, der in der Übersetzung der vitruvianischen „ratiocinatio“ als „discorso“46 steckt. Alles ermisst sich am gesteckten Ziel zum Wohle des Menschen. Der umfassendere Bezug, die Frage nach den Möglichkeiten und Modalitäten unseres Wissens mitsamt dem daraus entstehenden Gewinn für den Menschen ist in Barbaros Vitruvkommentar schon in der ersten Zeile der Widmung an den Kardinal Ippolito d’Este spürbar, wo die „belle inventioni de gli huomini“ als „fatte a commune utilità“ eingeführt werden, „zum Gebrauch für die Welt“, wie Kant später – in ,aufklärerischer‘ Brechung – in der Vorrede zur Anthropologie betonen wird.47 Dieser Grundton durchzieht alle einzelnen Analysen und Erwägungen, auch dort, wo Daniele Barbaro sich bemüht, Vitruvs Text im Einzelnen gerecht zu werden. Er unterstellt ihm im Grunde genommen dieselben Absichten. Die Brisanz der Diskussion zur Kompetenz des Künstlers hat er erkannt und folgert aus der Kontroverse zwischen Vitruv und Pytheos, dass dadurch gerade jene ,doppelte Wurzel‘ der Architektur, in der Wissen und Können, das Denken und das Handeln vereinigt sind, umso deutlicher herausgestellt würde: Non è alcuno, che ricordandosi le cose dette di sopra, non intenda quello, che hora dice Vitr. & se egli non havesse appreso bene, che cosa è fabrica, & discorso, opera & ragione, la cosa significata, & quella, che significa, legga l’infrascritto essempio dello Autore, che 44 45 46 47

Cf. [Périon] (1542), 150 f. Cf. [Barbaro (Hg.)] (1545), fol. [1 v]. Vgl. dazu auch: Oechslin (2012d), 5 – 23, bes. 20 f. Cf. Kant (1798), [iii]: „Alle Fortschritte in der Cultur, wodurch der Mensch seine Schule macht, haben das Ziel, diese erworbenen Kenntnisse und Geschicklichkeiten zum Gebrauch für die Welt anzuwenden; aber der wichtigste Gegenstand in derselben, auf den er jene verwenden kann, ist der Mensch: weil er sein eigener letzter Zweck ist.“ – Vgl. dazu generell: Oechslin (2013b).

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

147

intenderà il tutto, & conoscerà piu oltra come sia il giro, & la raccommunanza delle scienze., dice adunque […]48

Was folgt ist der vitruvianische Passus zum Mediziner und Musiker und der wechselseitigen Kompetenz, die man jeweils einfordern kann und soll, auch dies in der Tradition einer bekannten aristotelischen Argumentation. Es geht natürlich auch beim „habitus factivus“ des Architekten um eine spezifische Kompetenz der Hervorbringung eines entsprechenden Werkes. Das ganze Wissen hat dieser Ausrichtung und dieser Hervorbringung zu dienen. Barbaro verdeutlicht dies, indem er die von Vitruv gebrauchten Begriffspaarungen in Parallele setzt, das fabrica/ratiocinatio (discorso), das opera/ragione und das „quod significatur et quod significat“ (I,I,3). Schließlich hat Vitruv selbst diesen Zusammenhang immer wieder herausgestrichen und kommentiert. Er spricht – bezogen auf die verschiedenen Disziplinen, deren Kenntnis er empfiehlt – von der „coniunctio rerum“ und von der „communicatio“ (Vitruv I, I, 12), Begriffe, die Barbaro in der lateinischen Ausgabe seines Kommentars 1567 aufnimmt und als „communio scientiarum“ und „similitudo doctrinarum“ erweitert.49 Vitruv seinerseits verwies an dieser Stelle auf den enzyklopädischen Charakter des Wissens: „encyclios enim disciplina uti corpus unum ex his membris est composita“ (I,I,12). Einmal mehr ist es der Zusammenhang, der hier betont wird. Und einmal mehr stellt sich die Frage, wie soll man die Dinge auseinanderhalten, wo die Grenze zwischen notwendigem und ,überflüssigem‘ Wissen ziehen, wie das Tun von seinen Wissensgrundlagen lösen, wo es doch so unübersehbar darin gründet und alles unzweifelhaft zusammengehört?

6. Die zielstrebige Ausrichtung auf das Tun bei Palladio […] semplicemente darò quelle avertenze, che mi parranno più necessarie […] Andrea Palladio, I Quattro Libri…, Venezia: Domenico de’Franceschi 1570, S. 6

Insofern könnte Palladios Äußerung „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“ am Ende des „Proemio ai Lettori“ zu seinen „Quattro Libri“ von 1570 irritieren. Was wollte Palladio mit seiner Bemerkung signalisieren? Oder handelt es sich bloß um eine schnell dahingeworfene Bemerkung, die ein genaueres Eintreten auf die Frage gar nicht verdient? Oder spielt Palladio doch auf die Kompetenzfrage an, um dann zu betonen, dass all sein Können und seine Bemühungen dem Machen, dem „habitus faciendi cum ratione“, zugeordnet seien? Wie wollte Palladio, dessen Sachverstand Barbaro für seine Vitruvausgabe ja in Anspruch 48 Cf. Barbaro (1556), 16. 49 Cf. [Daniele Barbaro] (1567), 13.

148

Werner Oechslin

nahm, um dafür überschwänglich belobigt zu werden, seine Aussage verstanden wissen? Geht es um einen Gestus der Bescheidenheit, womit Palladio übrigens auch Vitruvs Forderung erfüllen würde, die dieser mit der Charakterfrage des Architekten und mit dem Hinweis auf die Notwendigkeit philosophischer Kenntnisse verbindet (I,I,7): „non sit adrogans, sed potius facilis, aequus et fidelis […].“? Jedenfalls wird an jener Stelle durchaus klar, dass Palladio seinem Tun das größte Gewicht zumisst. Er stellt ja die „lunga fatica, e gran diligenza, & amore“ die er dem „intendere, & praticare“ zuwendet, auch unter den Schutz Gottes, „s’egli sarà piaciuto à Dio“. Nichts lässt erkennen, dass er sich nicht im Einverständnis mit Barbaro befände, der das Tun des Architekten so unzweideutig in den grösseren ethischen Rahmen des ,zum Wohle der Menschen‘ stellt. Schon ein erster Blick in die „Quattro Libri“ lässt auch erkennen, dass Palladio durchaus befolgt, was er am Ende seines Proemio schreibt. Das „intendere, & praticare“ bezeichnet Rahmen und Einschränkung dessen, was er in seinem Text ausführen will. Ganz im Sinne Barbaros geht es Palladio in seinem Buch, dessen Erfolg und unmittelbare Einfluss notabene über lange Zeit grösser sein wird, als der der Werke selbst, um das Machen. Die Texte sind meistens knapp, verweisen gerade mal auf einige wissenswerte Umstände seiner Bauten oder bezeichnen und beschreiben in aller Kürze die in den Holzschnitten gegebenen Darstellungen. Bei genauerem Hinsehen bemerkt man allerdings, dass Palladio immer mal wieder länger ausholt und nebst architektonischen Erläuterungen in engerem Sinne auch durchaus persönliche gefärbte Erfahrungsberichte hinzusetzt. Das geschieht in den ersten Kapiteln des zweiten Buches zum Hausbau dort, wo er die Kostenfrage anspricht (I,I) und wo er seine epochemachende, eigene Bauweise, die „usanza nuova“, einführt und dies mit dem Dank an die verständnisvollen „gentil’huomini“ verbindet.50 Bei gegebenem Anlass gibt Palladio auch immer mal wieder zu erkennen, wie gut er sich auf die Zusammenhänge mit den antiken Gebäuden versteht. Er lässt auch immer wieder durchblicken, von welch großer Erfahrung er geprägt ist, wenn er sich beispielsweise im Kapitel „De gli abusi“ (I,XX) grundsätzlich, umsichtig und klug zu Regel und Variation äußert und den Satz – mit Verweis auf das eigene Buch zu den antiken Bauten und natürlich auch in Abstimmung mit Vitruv und Barbaro51 – formuliert: „onde si vede che ancho gli Antichi variarono: nè però si partirono mai da alcune regole universali, & necessarie dell’Arte, come si vederà ne’miei libri dell’Antichità.“52 Palladio gibt sich also durchaus als kompetenter Architekt zu erkennen, der sein eigenes Tun auf Erfahrung und auf umfassende Kenntnis abstützt; und er erwähnt dies auch genau 50 Cf. Oechslin (2008), 97 ff. 51 Cf. Barbaro (1556), 282 („Vitruvio […] dice […] che non sempre si deve osservare le istesse regole e simmetrie“). Der Passus auch hervorgehoben bei: Santinello (1991), 112. 52 Cf. Palladio (1570), I, 52.

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

149

an jener Stelle des „Proemio ai Lettori“, der das „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“ unmittelbar vorausging: „semplicemente darò quelle avvertenze, che mi parranno più necessarie“. Wissen und Tun sind aufeinander abgestimmt. Und darin erkennt er auch den Vorteil, auf kürzestem Weg und im Sinne der Poiesis „cose nuove“ zu entdecken und zu ergründen. Dem „ponere brevemente“ und dem „fuggirò la lunghezza“ folgt in Palladios „Proemio“ also auch noch die zu eröffnende „più facile, & espedita strada“, die zu neuen Dingen führen soll. Insofern trifft sich Palladio mit Vignolas in seiner „Regola“ überdeutlich formulierten Sehnsucht nach einer einfachen und ,schnellen‘ Regel.53 Alles bestätigt nur, dass Palladio durchaus den Empfehlungen Vitruvs folgt, wonach sich der Umfang des Wissens nach dem Bedürfnis und dem Nutzen zu richten habe. Entscheidend ist der Zusammenhang der „ratiocinatio“ und des „operis effectus“, so wie es Vitruv gegen Pytheos in Anschlag bringt. Insofern muss sich Palladio nicht der Kritik aussetzen, dass er als Architekt „sine litteris“, nur „manibus“ tätig sei, und genau so wenig, dass er nur intellektuell, „ratiocinationibus et litteris solis“, arbeite und auf ihn die Kritik, nur einem Schatten nachzustreben zukäme („umbram non rem persecuti videntur“; I,I,2). Gegen solche, abschreckende Beispiele demonstriert Palladio seine Ausgewogenheit, sein vitruvianisch fundiertes Verständnis der „ratiocinatio“ im Sinne der Erklärung der Praxis, des „res fabricatas sollertiae ac rationis pro portione demonstrare atque explicare“ (I,I,1). Die Erfahrung ist nach dieser Massgabe umso bedeutsamer. Palladio betont auch dies, nachdem er die Kürze seiner Kommentare gegen ausuferndes Wissen – mittelbar gegen Pytheos – betont hat: Io ho posto per intendere, & praticare quanto prometto; s’egli sarà piaciuto à Dio, ch’io non m’habbia affaticato in darno; ne ringratierò la bontà sua con tutto il cuore; restando appresso molto obligato a quelli, che dalle loro belle inventioni, & dalle esperienze fatte ne hanno lasciato i precetti di tal’arte; percioche hanno aperta più facile, & espedita strada alla investigatione di cose nuove, e di molte (mercè loro) habbiamo cognitione che ne sarebbono peraventura nascoste.54

Palladio findet sich also in vollkommener Übereinstimmung mit den Ansichten Barbaros, genauer: er erfüllt als schaffender Architekt die Ansprüche die Barbaro mit der Kompetenz des Architekten verbindet, gerade weil er sich gegen die „lunghezza delle parole“ ausspricht. Noch ein anderer Aspekt verbirgt sich hinter dem Diktum des „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“, wie schnell aus einer späteren vergleichbaren Aussage ersichtlich wird. Alessandro Pompei, der angetreten war, um gegen die „cattiva maniera“ einer Architektur, der die „ragione“ abhanden gekommen und die am ehesten als „Chinese, o Grottesco“ zu charakterisieren sei, die vitruvianische 53 Vgl. Oechslin (2003). 54 Cf. Palladio (1570), 6.

150

Werner Oechslin

Lehre wieder in ihr Recht zu setzen55, schreibt in seinen „Li Cinque Ordini dell’Architettura Civile di Michel Sanmicheli“ 1735, er würde auf langatmige Erklärungen zu den unterschiedlichen Berechnungen und Darstellungen der Säulenordnungen zwischen Fréart de Chambray und Blondel und seiner eigenen Version verzichten: „e poscia il confronto tra quelli Autori ch’espongo, reputandolo soverchio anche per un’altra ragione, la quale è, che vana cosa rassembrami lo affaticarsi in dimostrar con parole ciò, che ciascheduno con li disegni davanti agli occhi può da se scorgere agevolmente“.56 Um ein ,Theorie-Defizit‘ kann es sich bei Pompei, der gegen die blinde Praxis der damaligen römischen Architektur ankämpft, nicht handeln. Doch längst hat man der Architekturzeichnung die Autorität zugebilligt, präzise architektonische Aussagen zu liefern. Palladios Bedeutung in dieser Entwicklung, letztlich der Neuentdeckung der bei Vitruv geforderten „graphidis scientia“57 ist entscheidend und findet bei Barbaro die ganz besondere Anerkennung. Es entspricht auch präzis dem, was Palladio den Bemerkungen zur „lunghezza delle parole“ voraus in seinem „Proemio ai Lettori“ in grundsätzlicher Hinsicht schreibt. Der Verweis auf die doppelte Grundlegung seines Tuns in der Hinwendung zur Architektur der „Antichi Romani“ und zur Autorität Vitruvs („mi proposi per maestro e guida Vitruvio“) wird dort gleich ergänzt durch die entsprechenden Massnahmen, die Palladio ergreift, indem er das „comprendere & in disegno ridurlo“ in den Mittelpunkt rückt und zudem eine Veröffentlichung der Zeichnungen („dare in luce i disegni“) in Aussicht stellt. Die dazu als nützlich erkannten Bemerkungen, so Palladio an dieser Stelle, will er in aller Kürze („ponere brevemente“) zur Darstellung bringen. Unverkennbar ist dies auch im beschränkten Rahmen der „Quattro Libri“ geschehen. Die zeichnerische Darstellung architektonischer Formen geniesst hier den eindeutigen Vorzug gegenüber jeder textlichen Ergänzung. Die Zeichnung ist die Sprache des Architekten, sie besitzt den Vorzug, unmittelbar ins Auge zu springen, und benützt Unmittelbarkeit und Kürze. Der Text soll sich diesem modus brevis anpassen.

7. Palladio und Daniele Barbaro: Zusammenarbeit und Freundschaft Piu volte ho desiderato di communicare le fatiche mie con altri, & in commune investigare la verità, accioche quello, che non puo far uno solo fatto fusse da molti, ma questo per alcuna cagione, che io non so, non mi e venuto fatto eccetto, che ne i dissegni de le figure importanti ho usato l’opera di M.Andrea Palladio Vicentino Architetto […] Daniele Barbaro, I Dieci Libri dell’Architettura di M. Vitruvio Tradutti et Commentati…, Venezia: Francesco Marcolini 1556, S. 40 55 Cf. Pompei (1735), 11 f. 56 Ibidem, 16. 57 Vgl. dazu: Oechslin (1981).

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

151

architetto nostro amorevole Daniele Barbaro, Testament, 13. April 1570

Daniele Barbaro hat all dies in seinem Vitruvkommentar von 1556 in einem während der Drucklegung eingefügten spontan hinzugesetzten Text bestätigt. Was er in seinem „Proemio“ in grundsätzlicher Absicht, Aristoteles und Vitruv zusammenführend dargelegt hat, erfüllt sich gleichsam in der eigenen Erfahrung und in der – durchaus mit Schwierigkeiten behafteten – Zusammenarbeit mit Palladio. Der Humanist und der Architekt stehen sich in ihrer jeweiligen Kompetenz und Aufgabe gegenüber. Vitruvs Erfordernis einer „graphidis scientia“ und das von Palladio später, 1570, ins Programm der „Quattro Libri“ gesetzte „dare in luce i disegni“, bilden die Form des Beitrages, den Palladio zu Barbaros Vitruvkommentar beisteuert. Daniele Barbaro hat in seinem „Proemio“ am Ende auch zunehmend die Nähe des Habitus des Architekten zur „sapienza“ thematisiert und so auch die Nähe zur Mathematik betont. Umso mehr passen nun die geometrisch streng gezeichneten, quasi schematischen Zeichnungen Palladios zu seinem Vitruv. Und gleichwohl war jene Zusammenarbeit von einigen Irritationen begleitet, die sich im 1556 gedruckten Werk in erstaunlicher Offenheit dokumentiert finden. Zu den zweifellos deutlichsten Demonstrationen, die Palladio offensichtlich in Harmonie mit Barbaros Ansichten in Form von Zeichnungen für den Vitruvkommentar von 1556 vorlegt, gehören die den vitruvianischen „species dispositionis“ zugedachten Illustrationen, die nun den von Barbaro kommentierten später weiterdiskutierten Ersatz der „scenographia“ durch die „sciographia“ zum Ausgangspunkt nehmen.58 Um die dadurch erreichte Kommensurabilität, insbesondere der Aufriss- und Schnittfigur verlässlich abzubilden, ist diesen Figuren ein ganzer, in der Mitte geöffneter Bogen zugedacht worden, sodass die beiden Zeichnungen in präziser Entsprechung auf dem gleichen Blatt Papier zusammengeführt erscheinen. Auf der Vorderseite der ersten Hälfte dieses Bogens erscheint die erste der drei vitruvianischen Zeichnungsformen, der Grundriss. Und hier beginnt das Problem! Denn folgte man dem Maßstab von Aufriss und Schnitt, müsste allein die Grundkante des gewählten Tempelgrundrisses einen ganzen Bogen, also eine Doppelseite beanspruchen. Selbst der stark reduzierte Grundriss fand in der gegebenen Papiergröße nicht ausreichend Platz, was zu einer eher willkürlichen Beschneidung der Figur führte. All das provozierte nun offensichtlich Kritik. Der unvollständige auf der Rückseite der Schnittfigur gedruckte Teilgrundriss wurde demzufolge neu verfertigt, ,umgedreht‘, sodass die Zugangstreppe jetzt – analog zu Schnitt 58 Eine Kurzfassung in den Akten des Kongresses des Centre d’Ètudes Supérieures de la Renaissance in Tours zu Daniele Barbaro 2013 befindet sich im Druck: Oechslin, Werner, „Sciographia“, die vierte Darstellungsform („species dispositionis“): Daniele Barbara, Andrea Palladio und die Kodifizierung der Architekturzeichnung.

152

Werner Oechslin

und Aufriss – unten erscheint; die neue Seite 21 (B iii recto) wurde auf die alte aufgeklebt. Auf der Textseite zuvor hatte Barbaro seiner Erklärung zur Bevorzugung der „sciografia“ zudem eine entschuldigende Bemerkung hinzugefügt; der Grundriss sei unvollständig, müsste sinngemäß oben um weitere Säulen und um die Treppe ergänzt werden und hätte im Vergleich zur Fassade natürlich grösser wiedergegeben werden müssen: Hora la infraposta Pianta si deve intendere che dall’altro capo habbia come dall’uno, & le colonne, & i gradi, & benche sia piu picciola dello inpié, egli però si deve intendere della istessa grandezza. Il che non si è fatto, perche riusciva troppo grande secondo l’inpié & noi non siamo stati prima avvertiti della grandezza della carta.59

Es ist etwas Unvorhergesehenes eingetroffen, hat Ungereimtheiten bei der Darstellung der so wichtigen „species dispositionis“ provoziert und hätte Palladios Leistung an einer äußerst sensiblen Stelle beeinträchtigt. Man übte sich also in Schadensbegrenzung. Barbaros Kommentar bezeugt dieses Vorkommnis. Und das wiederholt, als ein nochmaliger Konflikt zwischen Druckleger und Zeichner, als „errore“ des „intagliatore“ ausdrücklich erwähnt, zum Hinzufügen und Einkleben eines zusätzlichen Blattes führte.60 Es gab Barbaro die Möglichkeit – aus diesem Anlass und aus der Notwendigkeit heraus, dieses Blatt zu füllen – auf die Angelegenheit grundsätzlich einzugehen, was sich dann letztlich in einem Lob Palladios niederschlug. Wird Palladio 1570 sein „fuggirò le parole“ schreiben, so formuliert Barbaro 1556 auf der Rückseite dieses eingefügten Blattes, „ho fugito la pompa di citare a nome gli Autori“, um dann gleich die Ausnahme zu machen und zu begründen. Bemerkungen ,in eigener Sache‘, würde man heute dazu schreiben! Was als Entschuldigung beginnt, endet alsbald in der Darlegung der besonderen Vorzüge Palladios, deren Formulierung präzis auf die vitruvianischen Erfordernisse ausgerichtet ist. Das „fabrica/ratiocinatio“ und „opera/ragione“, die als ,praktische Vernunft‘ auf das Tun ausgerichtete Synthese von Wissen und Können wird nun ganz präzis als in der Person Palladio erfüllt dargestellt; Barbaro formuliert: „non solo intendendo le belle, e sottili ragioni di essa, ma anco ponendola in opera“.61 Und er präzisiert diese doppelte Ausrichtung auf „manus“ und „intellectus“, wie es noch im Organon bei Francis Bacon thematisiert wird, weiter mit Verweis auf die „sottilissimi, e vaghi disegni delle piante, di gli alzati, & de i profili“ und andererseits auf das „esequire e far molti e superbi edificij“. Schließlich wird das ein drittes Mal in der kurzen Formel „con prontezza d’animo, & di mano esplicate“ zusammengefasst. Letzteres hatte Barbaro zuvor im „Proemio“ in variierter Wortwahl beschrieben, indem er das „discorreno“, die „vie ragionevoli“ und die regole dell’operare“ mit der „prontezza di mano“ 59 Cf. Barbaro 1556, 20. 60 Dazu: Oechslin (2012b). 61 Cf. Barbaro (1556), 40.

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

153

verglichen hat, um einmal mehr den Stellenwert und die „dignità della architettura“ im Spannungsfeld von „scienza“, „fallace coniettura“ und der „dal vero abbandonata Isperienza“ zu beschreiben.62 Das Lob Palladios folgt hier aber nicht nur der vitruvianischen Dialektik von „fabrica“ und „ratiocinatio“; Barbaro bezieht es unmissverständlich und konkret auf die Arbeit Palladios für seine Vitruvedition. Die Zeichnungen stehen insofern genauso wie ein anderes architektonisches ,Werk‘ für die Tätigkeit und Kompetenz des Architekten. Den „belle, e sottili ragioni“, die der Architektur zu Grunde liegen, stellt er somit das zweifache „ponendola in opera“ gegenüber, das sich in „si ne sottilissimi, e vaghi disegni“, „come ne lo esequire e far molti superbi Edificij“ manifestiert. Zwecks Präzisierung der „disegni“ sind nochmals die gewählten, ,gültigen‘, durch Barbaro begründeten und durch Palladio in die systematische Darstellung gebrachten Figuren „delle piante, di gi alzati, & de i profili“ ausdrücklich erwähnt. Wieder wird deutlich, wie sehr Palladio in den Vorgang der ,intellektuellen‘ Arbeit mit einbezogen war. Die Verbindung des „cum ratione“ mit der „graphidis scientia“ ist evident und äußert sich bei Palladio in der Übereinstimmung der „sottili ragioni“ mit den „sottilissimi, e vaghi disegni“. Es ist diese besondere Leistung und das besondere Verdienst an seinem Vitruvkommentar, die Barbaro hervorhebt. Und weil dies so bedeutsam ist und präziser Beschreibung bedarf, hebt Barbaro den mathematischen, geometrischen Charakter dieser Zeichnungen in Abgrenzung gegenüber dem „disegno“ des Malers hervor: „Ne i disegni adunque ha guardato piu a le misure, che a le pitture“. Und auch dies wird genauer erläutert: „perche Vitr. insegna le proportioni, e non le adombrationi delle opere“. Barbaro beschreibt somit präzise, welches die besondere Qualität der Architekturzeichnung ist, die er mit Palladios Hilfe und in Übereinstimmung mit dem insofern ,revidierten‘, nunmehr kohärenten Text Vitruvs in seinem Kommentar von 1556 zur Gültigkeit erhebt. „Lineamenta“ statt „lunghe parole“! Es entspricht natürlich dem, was Palladio später in seinem „Proemio ai Lettori“ im deutlichen Verweis auf seine zeichnerische Tätigkeiten unterstreichen wird. Die besonderen Verdienste Palladios umschreibt Barbaro also mit „sottili ragioni“ „sottilissimi, e vaghi disegni“ und schließlich mit „superbi edifiij“! Palladio beherrscht alles, und so erscheint am Ende sein „fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole“ – nebst dem deutlichen Hinweis auf die Zeichnung als der Sprache des Architekten – doch eher als eine flüchtige captatio benevolentiae. „Prontezza d’animo, & di mano“; Kopf und Hand gehören zusammen und finden sich in Palladio in idealer Harmonie vereint. Das lässt Barbaros hohe Anerkennung verstehen: „ne i dissegni de le figure importanti ho usato l’opera di M. Andrea Palladio Vicentino Architetto“. Damit verbindet sich das Lob, das letztlich auch 62 Cf. Ibidem, 7.

154

Werner Oechslin

– und damit vereint – seinem Werk, seinen Bauten gilt, „che contendono con gli antichi, danno lume a moderni, e daran meraviglia a quelli verranno“. Die Art und Weise des Umgangs mit Palladio, die Barbaro in seinem Kommentar praktiziert, ist ein Akt der Freundschaft und dies ein Teil jener humanistischen Auffassung, die das Ganze zusammenhält und die „eruditio“ mit der „pietas“ verbindet. Bei allen Unwägbarkeiten betont die gemeinsame Einsicht das Verbindende: „omnes animi in una mente“. Giovanni Pico della Mirandola kommentiert: „Haec est illa amicitia, quam totius philosophiae finem esse Pythagorici dicunt.“63 Die Freundschaft beseelt die Philosophie. Aristoteles hat das achte Buch seiner Nikomachischen Ethik der Freundschaft gewidmet und mit der Feststellung – in der Übersetzung Argyropoulos’ – begonnen: „[amicitia] Est enim quedam virtus: aut est cum virtute. Res est preterea summe necessaria in vita.“ Die Freundschaft ist mit der Tugend verbunden das für das Leben Notwendigste, das was niemand missen möchte. Jacques Lefèvre d’Etaples bezieht es auf die göttliche Liebe, spricht vom „celestis radius amoris“, umschreibt sie als „divina […] toto mentis fervore comprehensa amicitia“, was den Akzent noch mehr auf die „virtus“ und die „integritas vite“ lenkt.64 Als Daniele Barbaro 1567 die zweite Ausgabe seiner italienischen Übersetzung Vitruvs wiederum Ippolito d’Este widmete, schrieb er von diesem Gedanken beflügelt: Come è avvenuto a me nella fatica fatta sopra Vitruvio gia dedicata a Vostra Signoria Illustrissima, & Reverendissima: imperoche, per quello amore, che ha ognuno di fare le sue fatture ogni giorno migliori, rivedendo, & rileggendo il detto autore […] ho voluto rimandarlo in luce […].65

Ohne diesen inneren Antrieb geht es nicht. Palladio spricht seinerseits 1570 von der „lunga fatica, e gran diligenza, & amore“. „Omnia vincit amor“ und die Freundschaft ist die gelebte, von diesem Gedanken getragene Übereinkunft sich begegnender Menschen. In seinem Testament spricht Barbaro von Palladio als „architetto nostro amorevole“.66 Was könnte besser die tiefste Übereinstimmung beschreiben, die den Philosophen mit dem Architekten verband!

63 64 65 66

Cf. Cf. Cf. Cf.

Pico della Mirandola (1530), o.S. [,8‘ verso]. Aristoteles 1505, [k vii verso – k viii recto]. Barbaro 1567, [a 2 verso]. Bruce Boucher 1979, 280 u. 28

Andrea Palladio und Daniele Barbaro

155

Literatur Angelini, Annarita, Sapienza, Prudenza, Eroica Virtù. Il mediomondo di Daniele Barbaro, Firenze 1999. Alberigo, Giuseppe, „Daniele Barbaro“, in: Dizionario Biografico degli Italiani, Bd. VI, Roma 1964, 89 – 95. [Aristoteles], „Opus Aristotelis de moribus ad Nichomachum: Ioanne Argyropulo interprete“, in: [Aristoteles, Opera; „omnia opera Aristotelis in unum coacta“] Hoc in volumine continentur infrascripta opera Aristotelis […], Venezia: per Gregorium de Gregoriis expensis Benedicti Fontanae 1496. [Aristoteles], Decem librorum Moralium Aristotelis, tres conversiones […], hg. v. Jacobus Stapulensis [Jacques Lefèvre], Paris: Henricus Stephanus 1505. [Aristoteles], „Hermolaus Barbarus, Epitome Librorum Aristotelis Ethicorum“, in: Aristotelis Ethicorum, sive de moribus, ad Nicomachum filium libri X. nuper quidem a Ioachimo Perionio Cormoeriaceno latinitate donati […] His adiecimus […] Epitomen Hermolao Barbaro […] autore, Basel: Bartholomaeus Vesthemer 1545. [Aristoteles] „Aristotelis Stagiritae Metaphysicorum Liber Primus, Besssarione […] Interprete“, in: Aristoteles Stagiritae Operum Tomus Secundus, Lyon: J. Frellonius 1549. Baldinucci, Filippo, Lettera […] Nella quale risponde ad alcuni quesiti in materie di Pittura […], Roma: Nicol’Angelo Tinassi 1681. Barbaro, Daniele (Hg.), I Dialogi di Messer Speron Speroni, Venezia: Aldus 1542. [Barbaro, Daniele], „Illustriss. Ac Reverendiss. Cardinali Alexandro Farnesio, Daniel Barbarus S.D., Epistola“, in: Aristoteles 1545a, 412 – 414. [Barbaro Daniele (Hg.)] Hermolai Barbaro P.V. Compendium scientiae Naturalis ex Aristotele, Venezia: Cominus de Tridino Montisferrati 1545b. [Barbaro, Daniele], I Dieci Libri Dell’Architettura di M. Vitruvio Tradutti Et Commentati da Monsignor Barbaro eletto Patriarca d’Aquileggia, Venezia: Marcolini 1556. [Barbaro, Daniele], M. Vitruvii Pollionis de Architectura Libri decem, cum Commentariis Danielis Barbaro […], Venezia: Franciscus Franciscium Senensis/Ioan. Crugher 1567. Barbaro, Daniele, Aurea in Quinquaginta Davidicos Psalmos Doctorum Graecorum Catena, Venezia: Georgius de Caballis 1569. Bruce Boucher, „The last will of Daniele Barbaro“, in: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 42 (1979), 277 – 282. Caye, Pierre, Le Savoir de Palladio. Architecture, Métaphysique et Politique dans la Venise du Cinquecento, Paris 1995. Cranz, Ferdinand Edward, A bibliography of Aristotle editions 1501 – 1600, Baden-Baden 1971. Kant, Immanuel, Critik der practischen Vernunft, Riga: Johann Friedrich Hartknoch 1788. Kant, Immanuel, Anthropologie in pragmatischer Hinsicht abgefasst, Königsberg: Friedrich Nicolovius 1798. Kraye, Jill, „Moral Philosophy“, in: The Cambridge History of Renaissance Philosophy, ed. Charles B. Schmitt, Cambridge 1988, 303 – 386. Mauro, Silvester, Aristotelis Opera, Tomus Secundus continens philosophiam moralem, Roma: Angelo Bernabò 1668. Morresi, Manuela, „Le due edizioni dei Commentari di Daniele Barbaro 1556 – 1567“, in: Vitruvio. I Dieci Libri dell’Architettura tradotti e commentati da Daniele Barbaro 1567, Milano 1987.

156

Werner Oechslin

Oechslin, Werner, „Geometrie und Linie: Die Vitruvianische ,Wissenschaft‘ von der Architekturzeichnung“, in: Daidalos 1 (1981), 20 – 35. Oechslin, Werner, „Il Vignola, ,l’Abbiccì degli architetti‘“, in: Vignola e i Farnese (Atti del convegno internazionale Piacenza 18 – 20 Aprile 2002), hg. v. Christoph Luitpold Frommel/Maurizio Ricci/Richard J. Tuttle, Milano 2003, 375 – 395. Oechslin, Werner, Palladianismus. Andrea Palladio – Kontinuität von Werk und Wirkung, Zürich 2008. Oechslin, Werner, „“Verwirklichung“. Schinkels architektonisches Geschichtsverständnis“, in: Karl Friedrich Schinkel. Geschichte und Poesie. Das Studienbuch, hg. v. HeinThomas Schulze Altcappenberg/Rolf H. Johannsen, Berlin 2012a, 13 – 22. Oechslin, Werner, „,Sottili ragioni‘. I disegni Palladiani per le edizioni vitruviane di Daniele Barbaro“, in: Vitruvio e il disegno di architettura, hg. v. Paolo Clini, Venezia 2012b, 107 – 134. Oechslin, Werner, „Der Drang der Architektur zur (strengen) Wissenschaft“, in: Jahrbuch der Braunschweigischen Wissenschaftlichen Gesellschaft (2012c [2013]), 259 – 276. Oechslin, Werner, „,POETANDO‘; ,nous poétisons‘. Texte – wissenschaftliche und andere Texte!“, in: Scholion 7 (2012d), 5 – 23. Oechslin, Werner, „Der Architekt als Theoretiker“, in: Der Architekt. Geschichte und Gegenwart eines Berufsstandes, hg. v. Winfried Nerdinger, Bd. 2, München 2013a, 577 – 601. Oechslin, Werner, „,Per l’uso del mondo‘. Il respiro culturale dell’architettura“, in: L’architetto generalista, hg. v. Christoph Frank/Bruno Pedretti, Mendrisio 2013b, 13 – 39. Palladio, Andrea, I qvattro libri dell’ Architettura […] : Ne’quali, dopo un breue trattato de’ cinque ordini, [et] di quelli auertimenti, che sono piu necessarij nel fabricare; si tratta delle case private […], Venezia: Domenico de’ Franceschi 1570. [Périon, Jacques] Porphyrii Institutiones Quinque […] Aristotelis Categoriae. Eiusdem de Interpretatione Liber. Ioachimo Perionio Cormoeriaceno interprete, una cum eiusdem quoque Annotationibus […], Basel: Robert Winter 1542. Pico della Mirandola, Giovanni, De Homine, Basel: Henricus Petrus 1530. C. Plinius Attio Clementi suo s., in: C. Plinius Secundi Novocomensis Epistolarum libri X., Venezia: in Aedi. Aldi, et Andreae Asulani Soceri Mense Iunio 1518. Pompei, Alessandro, Li Cinque Ordini dell’Architettura Civile di Michel Sanmicheli, Verona: Jacopo Vallarsi 1735. Pozzo, Riccardo, „Umdeutungen der aristotelischen Habituslehre in der Renaissance“, in: Der Aristotelismus in der Frühen Neuzeit – Kontinuität oder Wiederaneignung? (58. Wolfenbütteler Symposion 2005), hg. v. Günter Frank/Andreas Speer, Wiesbaden 2007, 259 – 272. Risse, Wilhelm, Die Logik der Neuzeit, Bd. 1: 1500 – 1640, Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt 1964. Ruscelli Girolamo (Hg.), Della Eloquenza, Dialogo del Reverendiss. Monsignor Daniel Barbaro, Eletto Patriarca d’Aquileia, Venezia: Valgrisio 1557. Santinello, Giovanni, Tradizione e dissenso nella filosofia veneta fra Rinascimento e Modernità, Padova 1991. Vasoli, Cesare, „Introduction“, in:, Jacobi Zabarellae De Methodis libri Quatuor. Liber de Regressu, [reprint], hg. v. Cesare Vasoli, Bologna 1985. Zabarella, Giacomo (Iacobi Zabarellae Patavini), Opera Logica, Venezia: Paulus Meietus 1578.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory? Vitruvius as a Source of Early Modern Pragmatism

Paolo Sanvito 1. Scamozzi and the De Architectura: a Difficult Relationship Reconsidering Scamozzi, as one of the numerous representatives of the wave of Vitruvianism in the modern era, is a special challenge, as this architect has been an extremely sensitive interpreter of Antiquity and a frequent visitor of ancient excavation sites. Scamozzi, whose main theoretical work was printed 1615, is in all respects the last exponent of a coherent tradition of theoreticians, which, as ideal descent of the Latin author, produced its texts during approximately two centuries, since the alleged rediscovery of the Saint Gall manuscript in 1415. Scamozzi’s theoretical activity marks therefore a moment of speculative uncertainty: as to whether the previous, so far valid model of the updated Vitruvian theory may be kept or not; and at the same time Scamozzi is tormented by serious doubts about the validity of the previously dominating system in the arts and the sciences, which he inherited from the preceding Venetian humanism. Therefore the question is legitimate: what was left then of the spirit of the former humanism, including the Vitruvian wave? The troublesome year 1600 and the ones just following after it are evidently a moment of upheaval in politics and epistemology for Europe, as they are characterised by the Galilean turn. Scamozzi had, to begin with, notoriously ambivalent opinions about Vitruvius: the Latin author is defined by him “way too confused and obscure”, also because he is considered by him according to contemporary, i. e. Cinquecento, standards; but at the same time Vitruvius is for him “prencipe di questa facoltà”.1 Numerous passages in his massive treatise, the Idea, reproach Vitruvius: he is also said to be disrupted, “lacerato”; and his lack of philology in

1

Scamozzi (1615), I, pages n.n., but actually 4.

158

Paolo Sanvito

referring precedent sources is denounced on at least two occasions, both in Part I and II.2 Scamozzi’s criticism was grounded and seriously motivated. First, according to Cicognara, the earliest date for Scamozzi’s studies of Vitruvius’s work is 1574 – studies on Daniele Barbaro’s editions both Italian and Latin. In the Catalogo ragionato dei libri d’arte e d’antichità posseduti dal Conte Cicognara it is explained that Cicognara possessed the original copy of Barbaro’s translation on which Scamozzi worked and of course wrote interesting annotations (Fig. 1).3 It was notoriously Barbaro’s position about the relationship of interdependence between the arts and the sciences, which clearly determined Scamozzi’s later attitudes, allowing modern scholarship to even label him a “technocrat” – but his statement on this issue was, as it has been sufficiently pointed out, extremely biased.4 I will not go into details about this problem here: but just to mention one example, he writes: Donde nasce che alcune Arti hanno piu della scienza, & altre meno. & a conoscere l’Arti piu degne, questa è la uia,[:] Quelle, nelle quali fa bisogno l’Arte del numerare, la Geometria, & l’altre Mathematice, tutte hanno del grande.5

2

3

4 5

Scamozzi (1615), P. II, L. VI, Cap. XIV, 49: “Sarà molto facile a intendere nelle altre [cose] quello autore, il quale è stato sempre riputato non meno oscuro, che difficile, e lacerato”. In Cap. XVIII, 69 Scamozzi contradicts Vitruvius’s statements, “Non esser vero, che Doro, figliuolo di Helleno […]”. Cicognara (1821), Bd. I, 133, with the commentary: “Questo è 1’esemplare autografo sul quale studiò per diversi anni Vincenzo Scamozzi, ed è tutto postillato di sua mano con incredibile ricchezza di osservazioni critiche, e preziosissime: sonovi pagine intere d’illustrazioni, e da questo prezioso manoscritto sarebbesi tratta una nuova e singolar edizione, in cui si sarebbero viste in conflitto le opinioni degli uomini più dotti. Leggesi infine: ‘Fine sia alla fatica fatta da me Vincenzo Scamozzi Vicentino nel leggere Vitruuio, commentato da Monsig. Daniele Barbaro eletto Patriarca d’Aquileja, per la terza volta, con l’havere notato tutte le cose notabili, ed io tutto ho trovato come nelle postille in margine si vedrà per la prima lettera notato. E questo principiai li 4 aprile sino al dì d’oggi li 2 Luglio 1574, il che posso dire la prima volta, che io il lessi, haverlo udito, la seconda, la quale fu senza il Comento del Zoppino, haverlo goduto; e la terza che è questa, averlo giudicato: nel che ho conosciuto quanto sia da seguirlo a chi vuole di tal fatica haver meritevol frutto, e così ogni studio voglio in esso porre, trovando che egli ha ragionato di tutte, o almeno le più difficili e bisognevoli parti dell’architettura e bisogni dell’architetto, il che se molti conoscessero, non cosi facilmente si vanterebbero di essere architetti, che appena sanno quello che gli appartiene. Vincenzo Scamozzi Vicentino.’ Questo esemplare appartenne all’architetto Selva, dopo la cui morte fu acquistato dal Conte Rizzo Patarol, il quale veggendo che poteva con decoro illustrare questa nostra serie di Vitruviane preziosità, ce ne fece con nobilissima munificenza il generosissimo dono, sebbene sia egli fornito d’altre molte sontuosità in materia di libri i più ricercati”. See below, footnote 11. Scamozzi (1615), P. I, 5.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

159

Fig. 1. Vitruvius commentary (Venezia: Franciscus Franciscium Senensis/ Ioan. Crugher 1567), p. 184, with Scamozzi’s annotations

Besides, also the well known inscription on the engraving in Idea, on this same page, which defines architecture as domina artium (accompanied also by iudicium and genius), is based on Vitruvius’s or on Barbaro’s work, because the

160

Paolo Sanvito

latter had strongly emphasised this aspect of Vitruvius’s discourse in his editions. As Indra Mc Ewen could demonstrate, there was a large contribution of cosmology in the structure of Vitruvius’s treatise since its conception, and even in his thought in general.6 Architectura is “the art of the geometrical footprint”, which “demonstrates everything the other arts achieve” (I, 1, 1). “Corpo”, on its turn, in Scamozzi is an evident reminiscence from the use made of the word corpus by Vitruvius. Another principle which Scamozzi clearly inherits from Vitruvius is the close tie between the task of architecture and that of urban planning, evident even in the long quotes from the Latin author (“[…] et urbem condens architectus”; from I, 3; and also III, 4, 5, 6): to this regard the hint to Deinokrates is eloquent, Alexandria’s architect mentioned in the De architectura who has the same task Scamozzi chose, the one of a city builder, in no less than two cases, in Sabbioneta and Palmanova, sort of a modern Utopia. And such theoretical principles often become rather unequivocal in Idea: “Non è dubbio alcuno, che il trattar delle forme, et grandezze delle Città, e delle fortezze, è materia, che assolutamente e propriamente aspetta all’architetto”; “poi il deliberar la forma di tutto il corpo, come anco delle sue parti; e la divisione delle strade, e piazze, e situazione de tempij”, etc.7 Some of Scamozzi’s scientific, or natural-empirical positions have been recently defined by Alessandro Nova in his article on the theory of the winds as “Galilean”, although without further explanation by the author. Such positions should surely be considered as the cause of what has been called by Carmine Jannaco “Scamozzi’s rationalism” in all his writings since 1584 – date of the Serlio edition: the latter has in part its roots in Vitruvius himself, but in part also in the contemporary tradition of scientific research. Already Werner Oechslin occasionally referred to Plato’s quote in Scamozzi’s Idea, “cum ratione scientiam esse”, which is prominently borrowed from the philosopher on the very first page of his Prooemium: “Platone disse: Inquit autem opinionem veram, cum ratione scientiam esse, sine ratione expertem scientiae. [marginal titulus:] De scientia f. 113”.8 Interestingly enough, Scamozzi indicates here as his source a (phantom) treatise De scientia, but the sentence actually stems from the 6 7

8

McEwen (2004), 226. Scamozzi (1615), P. I, 152. See also again Mc Ewen (2004), 11, according to whom the dedication to the emperor, and therefore to the Roman state, accounts to a concept of governmental service “that scholars have recently viewed as key in understanding the intent of De Architectura. The benefits to be conferred by the Herculean body [or: Herculean skill of the architect] are […] those of civilisation itself, whose dissemination was Rome’s self-appointed ‘Herculean’ task”: urbanising the known world with the foundation of cities and the disposition of the road net. Cf. Scamozzi (1615), P. I, L. I, 2, 5 – 6.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

161

Theaetetus, which he read in the old Ficinian translation:9 a clear evidence for at least a partial Neoplatonic orientation. Another very eloquent statement is found quite at the beginning of Part II of the treatise, where “ragionevolmente l’Architettura”, as “effettrice di scientia prestantissima, ha da avere ordine”.10 From an administrative point of view, for what concerns the major research centre at the time, the Studio of Padua, we should take into account that as early as in 1528 a special Venetian Magistratura, the Riformatori dello Studio, had been formally instituted by the central government. From this moment on a rationalisation of teaching at the philosophical faculty was taking place, coinciding with Daniele Barbaro’s generation, along with the education of a whole new class of academics for the Venetian Republic and finally with the foundation of a number of erudite academies and societies. There are therefore very evident reasons why Scamozzi would refer to Vitruvius in a very cautious and critical way, since the very beginning of his career. Whether we agree or not with Nova’s11 label, according to which Scamozzi “can be described as a technocrat”, it is evident, after a very first glance at the treatise, that his imagination of the art of architectural designing and planning is similar to that of our contemporary technical universities: it is strictly mathematical and geometrical (Fig. 2), which cannot exactly be said similarly about Vitruvius’s methods. The architectural drawing does not play that relevant role in Vitruvius. For example, Burkhard Wesenberg judged, while reviewing Heiner Knell’s Vitruvian book, that “Vitruv nicht als Bauforscher schreibt, sondern, […] als Theoretiker, wie der Verf. aus der Verbindung von korinthischer Säule und dorischem Gebälk ableitet”.12 And because of this problematic feature of Vitruvius, Scamozzi primarily, and I would say programmatically, differs from the Latin theoretician. Scamozzi considered as more important the knowledge of the monuments or, in the building practice, the systems according to which they are built (he specifies that architecture is born “affine dell’universale utilità”, for the purpose of the universal usefulness [p. 4]; Idea is therefore a book for practitioners of building). This is also the cause of the extensive study travels he undertook. 9 This aspect is actually skipped in Oechslin’s analysis by simply reminding that Plato himself refers to his own Theaetetus in Polit., 257a, 157c, 158a (Oechslin [1997], XXXIII). But on the contrary, see Ficino, Marsilio, which he probably read in the recent edition, Omnia d. Platonis opera tralatione Marsilij Ficini, Venetiis, Hiernymus Scotus, 1571, 95: “The.: Quod ab aliquo de scientia quondam audivi, oblitus eram, sed jam reminiscor. Inquit autem opinionem veram, cum ratione scientiam esse, sine ratione expertem scientiae”: the last sentence is by Ficino; and Scamozzi argues further: “è segno manifesto, che ella sia scientia (come dice Platone)”, because etc. 10 On this statement see also Kruft (1991), 112. 11 Nova (2006), 83. 12 Wesenberg (1987), 737.

162

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 2. Grid for a ground plan, from Idea (http://dx.doi.org/10.3931/e-rara-7579)

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

163

They all had scientific aims and, as first recognised in Marco Frascari’s essay on the Teatro degli antichi or Olimpico in Sabbioneta, the Vicentine architect stayed in Rome and Naples long enough to succeed in meeting very relevant personalities in the sciences in this period: maybe Giordano Bruno, whom he indirectly quotes in the theatre building itself and indirectly also in the Idea, but surely some others, like the Linceo Giambattista della Porta. He might have had exchanges with Bruno again in 1591, when the latter came back to Italy, invited by Zuane (Giovanni) Mocenigo, the Provveditore later in 1594 for Palmanova and Marc’Antonio Barbaro’s successor, who at the same time hosted Bruno and was responsible also for his persecution in Venice.13 But at least a first precocious trip to Rome and Naples in 1579 is confirmed by passages in Idea: “la prima volta, che noi andassimo a Roma […]”;14 and: “Anno 1579. Si potrebbe ancor dire delle esalationi in varij luoghi della Solfatara, e nei bagni presso a Napoli”.15 Also striking is the similarity of the wind rose diagram (of obvious origin in Vitruvius, who considered it in at least two chapters, VI, 4 and VI, 5) in both Scamozzi’s treatise or in Bruno’s mnemonic diagrams,16 and in the Sabbioneta theatre (sic!), in the signs on the walls of the second row of seating steps. There they are figural “seals” from Bruno’s volume on memory from the mnemotechnical writings, Triginta sigilli, which had been already edited in London in 1583.17 A similarity in the technique of mnemonic diagrams is to be observed in those reproduced in Idea, P. I, I, 40. In the Discorso, the preface introducing Serlio’s reprinted Regole – allegedly written by his father Gian Domenico (died in 1582) but presumably, instead, two years later, in 1584, by himself, Scamozzi asserts the indispensable role of the sciences, among which he counts, like later in the Idea, architecture. In the ancient Greek theory, as far as we are informed by Vitruvius when he refers to Pytheos, the architect and planner of Priene, every architect had not simply to be aware of the other natural sciences: he even had to excel over all of them and their related technicians (a city would then be defined, not only as product of architecture, but as a Gesamtkunstwerk): “An architect should have that perfect knowledge of each 13 Frascari (1998), 256, however, does not recognise the identity of Mocenigo as the same person dealing with Bruno and at the same time, as a Provveditore for military matters, of course cooperating with Scamozzi. For Bruno’s concerns with the study and definition of motion, which he shares with Scamozzi, see Knox (2005), 177: Bruno and Galileo, like Copernicus, “used to demolish Aristotle’s ideas of simple bodies, simple motions and natural place”, and Knox (2001). For an accurate investigation of the trends in Rome and Naples around the foundation of the Lincei, see Freedberg (2002). On Galilei and his relationship to the visual arts in Padua see Bredekamp (2007). 14 Scamozzi (1615), P. I, L. I, 65. 15 Scamozzi (1615), P. I, L. II, 140. 16 Frascari (1998), 256. 17 Bruno (1583), 248, 250. Yates (1966), fig. 14a/b; 182.

164

Paolo Sanvito

art and science which is not even acquired by the professionals of any one in particular”.18 In Scamozzi’s wording, again: “Allo eccellente architetto s’aspetta il conoscere tutte le cose in universale, & in particolare”.19 Also, Scamozzi’s movement theories and metamorphic theories might be related to the early modern rediscovery of Heraclitus, in whose thought the importance of the world’s element fire, as an engine of all evolution and life forms, is central. Heraclitus is mentioned by Vitruvius anyway, and mostly in conjunction with his teacher Thales (this could be even considered a part of the general archaistic revival of the 1st century, which also Pythagoreanism witnesses; see on this Di Pasquale’s contribution in this same volume). The circular movement as an origin of all further movements is central in the PreSocratic philosophers as well, as in Anaximander who was very important for settling the understanding of the rotating movement of star systems. Similarly, the wind rose relates per se to cyclical movement. Borys observed in Scamozzi’s theory a “constant effort to re-match information and carry knowledge forward”,20 very much in the evolutionary sense once typical of the Ionic philosophical school; such orientation is possible in a modern theoretician, and even in the eyes of an early modern historian of philosophy. According to the ancients the human species was able to accumulate knowledge imitating the movement of skies, building machines which reflect the behaviour of nature, and this imitation induced the birth of naturalistic-philosophical theories. The use of techniques took down to the earth (as a metaphor) the circular movement from the sky. The principles of lever, or of magnetism, were essentially drawn from the observation of the cosmos and became thus indispensable part of the history of civilisation. These are all the practical techniques or the forms of knowledge (in the original wording: scientia) which are underscored by Vitruvius to give high value to the work of the architects. And Scamozzi’s acquaintance with the wisdom (and practical wisdom, increasing the value of architectural endeavours) of several ancient epochs reveals itself in all evidence when we read his Sommari (the Marciana Codex Marc. It IV, 128): “Dione Cassio, Flavio Vopisco, Aristide di Smirne [=Aristeides Koïntilianos], Pompeo Trogo, Diodoro Siculo, Giulio Frontino, Giulio Polluce, Eutropio Presbitero, Pausania, Cesare, Plinio Secundo, Appiano, Plutarchus De Musica” (c. 147); c. 131: “Herodiano”, c. 132: “Sesto Aurelio Vittore” are the ancient authors he quoted. Elio Lampridio on the contrary is not an ancient author, but a Quattrocento humanist, author of a very reliable dictionary for rare words. The 18 Vitr. I, 1, 12. According to Hoepfner (1984), 16, “Mit dieser Vorstellung der Stadt als Gesamtkunstwerk erst wird begreiflich, warum Pytheos vom Beruf des Architekten eine so extrem hochgeschraubte Vorstellung hatte”. 19 Scamozzi (1615), P. I, 17. 20 Borys (1998), 64.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

165

Sommari clearly list also rather African/oriental sources: “Beroso Babiloneo; Mirsilo Lesbio; Manethone Egittio; Macrobio” (c. 129r, especially for his “Armonia dei cieli”).21 For Scamozzi the principles of the urban planning process are purely mental, mathematical, exactly as it is postulated in the Discorso of 1584. This is indeed not, or only under a special angle of perspective, a heritage from Vitruvius, because it results from Scamozzi’s own intellectualism, more on the score of a Giulio Camillo (whose works he had read; they were published in Venice in the same years anyway. We will get back to Scamozzi’s knowledge of them, see infra, par. 4) or of other philosophically oriented authors. As Frascari put it, “a design for a future building is conceived as a mental image which is based on a knowledge of the liberal arts stored artfully in the architect’s memory”.22 Such is evidently Scamozzi’s contribution, which has been radically betrayed by many later interpreters: his “universalizzazione dell’architettura” is fundamental in the foundation of the discipline during the modern era, especially as a preliminary to the birth of the numerous technologies supporting it. Therefore it is evident that the Idea was strongly influenced by mathematical concepts of drawing and planning of ancient Greek origin, which had been transmitted to the Paduan and Venetian academic circles via the interpretation of Euclid’s and Aristotle’s writings. In what measure though was Scamozzi influenced by late Aristotelianism, Vitruvian or even early modern neo-Pythagoreanism?

2. Architectural and Urban Planning according to the Principles of the “Ancients” Scamozzi’s epistemology of universal knowledge, science as the act of deciphering a machine, the machina del mondo, goes surely directly back to the ancient philosophical schools, and among those, because of its geometrical character, to Pythagoreanism, which had been fundamental not only for the Vitruvian architectural theory, and beforehand familiar to Lucretius.23 Pythagoreanism of 21 See Trüdinger (1918), 130: “Das Geschichtswerk des Pompeius Trogus hat eine Menge geographisch-ethnographischer Schilderungen, eine Fülle von origines enthalten”, and it considers the Mediterranean as well as a number of Scythian and Iranian populations. 22 Frascari (1998), 354. See also Oechslin (1997), XIV, recognising the Idea’s “valore intrinseco, l’aver cioè riproposto, dopo Vitruvio e Alberti, un’esposizione dell’intero orizzonte di sapere valendosi di tutti gli elementi che l’architettura mette a disposizione della società”. 23 Lucretius (De rer. V 96) counts among the prominent users of the lemma machina mundi: “Una dies dabit exitio, multosque per annos Sustentata ruet moles et machina mundi”. See Forcellini (1965) (originally 1827 – 1831), III, 140; and Thesaurus linguae

166

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 3. Vicenza, Teatro Olimpico, stage (Photo: Stefan Weinzierl, Berlin) latinae, VIII, Leipzig 1936 – 1956, col. 13. In Pliny (Hist. Nat., 15, 24) it is interestingly the term used for Curio’s theatra. See also Stat., Theb. machina caeli (7, 812); Mart. Cap., II, 201: caeli molem machinamque; Chalc., Platonis Timaei transl. p. 32 sectio c:

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

167

course is not only to be found isolated in Roman culture, in that peripheral province of Hellenism in the Mediterranean West, during the 1st cent. B.C.: its persistence had wide deeper roots in the Cinquecento Italian and Venetian scholarship. Further, we find in the Idea the following assertion: “Vitruvius, Pliny and many others, however, gave four names to the four parts […] so that each of them occupies a quarter of the circumference, of this machine we call the world [Machina del Globo Mondiale]”:24 is this Pythagoreanism or Platonism, or rather confidence in the power of the forces of mechanics and physics? To this regard, also the chapter on winds is relevant. Here Scamozzi surely also relied, while referring to “many other authors”, on Hippocrates’s and Theophrastus’s De ventis, or De signis tempestatum 25 (available in a miscellany edition in 1501; and even in their earlier edition: Venezia, Aldo Manuzio, 1497). In this work Theophrastus proves being nearly more of a physician than a philosopher.26 But already Barbaro had made extensive use of Hippocrates in preparation to his Vitruvius commentary of 1567; references to his theories, on the health of cities, are at p. 54: “Della diuisione delle opere, che sono dentro le mura, & della dispositione di quelle per ischifare i fiati nocivi dei venti”. From Barbaro’s side the interest must have concentrated on Hippocrates’s work in general, but especially on the treatise Peq· Aeqym, zdatym, Tºpym (first printed in 1525).27 Scamozzi must have had multiple occasion to bump into either

24 25 26

27

“istam machinam […] fabricatus est deus” (= to tou kosmou soma). Palladio is among the first modern architects to refer to the metaphor, in the Proemio to the Forth book. Scamozzi (1615), P. I, L. II, Cap. XIV, 140. And P. I, 17. Aristoteles (1501). For Theophrastus’s On Winds in the Renaissance: Eorum quae hoc uolumine continentur nomina & ordo. Aristotelis uita ex Laertio. Eiusdem uita per ioannem philoponum. Theophrasti uita ex Laertio. Galeni de philosopho historia [.] Aristotelis de physico auditu, libri octo. De coelo, libri quatuor. De generatione & corruptione, duo. Meteorologicorum, quatuor. De mundo ad Alexandrum, unus. Philonis Iudaei de mundo, liber unus. Theophrasti de igne, liber unus. Eiusdem de ventis liber unus [.] De signis aquarum & uentorum, incerti auctoris. Theophrasti de lapidibus, liber unus, Venetiis: in domo Aldi Manutii 1497. And in modern edition: transl. Victor Coutant and Val Eichenlaub, London 1975. First edition in Rome: ex ædibus Francisci Minitii Calui Nouocomensis, 1525; but in Venice already known as early as in 1526 in the edition by Aldo Manuzio, then in Basle 1529 both in original Greek and Latin, translated by Janus Cornaro’s (= Simon Haynpol, *1500 Zwickau – † 1558 Jena) corrected edition: Zppojq²tou J¾ou Peq· !´qym, rd²tym, tºpym. Shortly later: in Venice ap. Erasmum, 1546; then in Paris, Gorbin, 1557, […] liber olim mancus, nunc integer: qui Galeno, De habitationibus et aquis, et temporibus et regionibus inscribitur: ab Adriano Alemano […] illustratus (with commentary). Or again later in Lyon, apud Antonio Vincenti 1562 [only from page 83 onwards]. See on this treatise: Trüdinger (1918), 37 ff.; Wille (1967), 587.

168

Paolo Sanvito

Aristotles’s work,28 or at least into one of his pupils’ beautiful editions in Europe’s most learned and powerful editorial city, Venice. This kind of mechanical interpretation of the world, mostly in engineering terms, and of its driving forces is confirmed by Scamozzi’s own, and others’ contemporary scholarly analyses of his theatre in Sabbioneta, and could surely apply to all of his theatre projects (Fig. 3). For example, for Ann M. Borys, Scamozzi must have had a “geometric idea about the theatre, though none was communicated by the project drawings he has produced”.29 We can develop diagrams in order to understand the spatial structure of Scamozzi’s building: but “none of the [geometric] diagrams demonstrate sufficient correspondence to the plan”. This fact is in itself rather anti-Vitruvian, showing that the belief in the geometrising classical theatre model by this time had become – at least for Scamozzi – highly irrelevant and unreliable. Furthermore, “motion as a key theme in Scamozzi’s thought is evident in the pervasive presence of the wind” (again Borys30). These issues seem to have been closely intertwined in Scamozzi’s working method, as the wind rose is drawn by him also at the bottom of the project for the theatre (Drawing 191 A = fig. 8). Is it in this case just a reference to the orientation of the building, of its relationship to the surrounding city, or to the motion forces which seem to be involved, as we saw, in a theatre plan? I deliberately skip here the subject of the investigation of sites chosen for the foundation of settlements and cities, closely related to the science of anemology, which Scamozzi had partially inherited from Vitruvius, and on which I had the occasion to research in an earlier essay.31 Scamozzi also deals extensively with the hygienic issue of the lots of land used for the construction of houses. His cosmos is a sensitive, constantly metamorphic one and can be defined as in eternal, continuous motion: we might notice as no casuality that Galileo’s De motu, which on his turn seems to be strongly influenced by Bruno’s concepts, was available as a manuscript since 1591,32 while Scamozzi resided in Veneto (but also, at times, traveled southwards), though we have hardly any chance to know whether he read it; the sources are too vague in this respect.33 The nobleman Paolo Gualdo has been also, apparently, acting as a connection 28 For example: Aristoteles Stagirite Metheororum, lib. I – IV, Venetiis: Joannes & Gregorius de Forlivio, 1491 (= Meteorologika). 29 Borys (1998), 195. 30 Borys (1998), 195. 31 See Sanvito (2012a). 32 Printed edition: Galilei (1960). 33 See Drake (1972) on the order of the sources of the script, where the author is able to demonstrate (56) that Galileo was composing a large part of his notes, during at least a decade since 1600 through 1610 when he departed, in Padua and again and again in Venice, as the watermarks in a careful list of the single manuscript samples demonstrate; and see again Drake (1975) on musical issues in Galileo.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

169

between Scamozzi and Galileo: he was closely related to both of them. Di Pasquale furthermore proposed – as we have mentioned – to recognise, in the interests in the ancient physical theories, a major reason for the appraisal of the cyclic movement and at the same time of the circular form, in the longue durée of Vitruvianism through the modern era. In Scamozzi’s work there are also hermetic remembrances. He refers to the writings by Hermes Trimegistos by explaining the theory of microcosmos and macrocosmos (in Part I, 38). But what does he mean though, by using both terms? His aims and references appear erratic and confused; in this case, contrary to the Theaetetus quote, here he offers no bibliographic note. His knowledge of ancient Roman architecture had substantially refined itself since the times of the first Vitruvian editions of the sixteenth century. For example his representations of the domus, of the insulae and the villa degli Antichi (i. e. the “fabrica rurale degli Antichi”) (Fig. 4), even of the houses built for Roman Senators, are so much more thorough and meticulous than anything else before Scamozzi: which actually proves an intense exchange with the archaeological erudition of his time.

3. Pragmatism versus Vitruvian Orthodoxy Scamozzi, the son of a masons’ family from the Valtellina valley, is originally educated as a pragmatist; after his father, he is the first family member who enjoys a humanistic education. Therefore he tends to use the rules assessed by the doctrines of Antiquity only in what they are useful for. His vision of the world can certainly not coincide with the Vitruvian one, because he is not a Pythagorean, but on the other hand he has a holistic approach to thought and knowledge. His understanding of Antiquity is without limitation, a kind of antiquity seen from a global perspective, in which even the ancient Iranian urban culture is contemplated: he describes Raga, the settlement chronologically preceding modern Teheran (today: Ray), a site just a couple of kilometres South of the Iranian capital. He therefore draws from the rules of the ancient civilisations the precepts for good planning, because they have been proved undoubtedly efficient before him. But he uses also contemporary discoveries: he never mentions Ligorio – a renowned Anti-Vitruvianist – in his Sommari (1586), not even in the list of names (Tavola, at their beginning) of architects of the universal history, or in the Discorso. However, he describes Villa d’Este in Tivoli in the Idea. 34 There are no hypotheses about the sources from which

34 Scamozzi (1615), P. I, 261, 305, 328 – 329.

170

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 4. Ancient Roman suburban villa – Idea, Part I, 284 (http://dx.doi.org/10.3931/e-rara-7579)

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

171

Scamozzi might have drawn his somewhat exotic material: maybe Caterino Zeno’s travel diary from 1558?35 Pragmatism in this context is to be understood as an attitude towards the sources, the forms of knowledge and the use that can be made of them. It has as a consequence that also non-technical precepts come under the consideration of architecture and his practitioners. Again, in the transposition of disciplines and precepts from his different sources, Scamozzi – adopting a pragmatistic view – selected those which make the realisation of architectural projects the most sensible and efficient: in fact, the analysis of the exemplary theatre of Sabbioneta is eloquent in its unscrupulous lack of regard towards Vitruvian principles. Other scientific doctrines and another architectural theory than the Ancient Roman one came into use there, and it was clearly a modern theory, developed since Peruzzi, applied in many contemporary theatrical venues. What Scamozzi looked for was a way of rationalising architecture and urban plans, therefore he picked up rationalistic models and paradigms from Antiquity – or, rather, from all the world’s antiquities. As Wolfram Hoepfner writes with regard to the “Hippodamic” urban plan: Heute erscheint es gesichert, dass Hippodamos von Milet im Bereich des Städtebaus nicht nur eine Art Flächennutzung einführte und mit der Erfindung des Typenhauses zur Demokratisierung beitrug, sondern auch Grundzüge der pythagoräischen Lehre in dieser Wissenschaft zur Anwendung brachte.36

This was the kind of doctrine for the urban plan which Scamozzi was trying to revitalise. Hoepfner stated that especially in the late Classical period Roman architecture has been influenced by a strong rationalism, in which the Gliederbau (the conglomeration of elements in a building) slowly mutates into a grid design, so called Rasterbau, “grid building” (see Fig. 5). An archaic example, Maroneia, in Thrace, 7th cent., has as its design modulus the Doric feet (Fig. 6): in fact, in the Late Classical era “architecture was characterized by an evident

35 De i commentarii del viaggio in Persia di M. Caterino Zeno il K. et delle guerre fatte nell’imperio persiano, dal tempo di Ussuncassano in quà, libri due. Et dello scoprimento dell’Isole Frislanda, Eslanda, Engrouelanda, Estotilanda, et Icaria, fatto sotto il Polo Artico, da due fratelli Zeni, M. Nicolò il K. e M. Antonio. Libro uno. Con un disegno particolare di tutte le dette parte di Tramontana da lor scoperta, Venetia, per Francesco Marcolini, 1558 (Biblioteca Marciana, Rari Ven. 636). It was dedicato to Daniele Barbaro by the publisher Marcolini, “per la fratellanza in amore che ha Vostra Reverendissi. Signoria col Magnifico M. Nicolò Zeno”. The “Proemio de l’autore ne i due libri de’ commentarii del viaggio in Persia et delle guerre persiane di M. Caterino Zeno il Cavalliere” (fol. A v r) is not signed. 36 Hoepfner (1984), 15.

172

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 5. Basilica in Ruscino, today Roussillon, 1st cent. B.C. Ground plan (Archive Dr. Andreas Post)

rationalism”.37 But also during the Hellenistic period the exemplarity of the grid planning system was preserved and further developed (“blieb dieser Trend zu 37 Hoepfner (1984), 15: “in spätklassischer Zeit, war die Architektur von einem deutlichen Rationalismus geprägt, bei dem sich der Gliederbau zum Rasterbau entwickelte”.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

173

Fig. 6. Maroneia, Thrace. Residential insula in Doric cubits. Drawing by Georg Karadedos

einer Rasterarchitektur erhalten”). Hellenism and Roman Classicism were exactly the periods which Scamozzi mostly drew his models from (Fig. 7); and the mentions of the use of proportion and modules in De Architectura – which gives evidences from the Augustan period – are numerous. Vitruvius himself explains this same idea of rationalisation very explicitly: “Nulla architecto maior cura esse debet, nisi uti proportionibus ratae partis habeant aedificia rationum exactiones”.38 According to Cornelius Steckner,39 38 Vitr. VI, 2, 1. 39 Steckner (1982), especially 268: “Atomistische Wirkungsästhetik”, 269, i. e. under Epicurean influence.

174

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 7. Tropaeum Traiani (Archive Dr. Andreas Post)

“Vitruv stellt den Städtebau in der Form eines geschlossenen Systems dar, in dessen Zentrum die physikalische Harmonie des Menschen steht”: it means a harmony reached through knowledge on a physical-material basis. There is no evidence that Scamozzi might even have studied de visu larger ruined cities when travelling southwards, such as the ruins of Ostia (well known in the Renaissance) or – even less likely – such Greek ruins as those of Cumae (Kyme) and Elea (or Velia) in Lucania, although the “vetusta città Velia” is already quoted by Pietro Summonte in his famous Epistola of 1524 to

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

175

Marcantonio Michiel in Venice.40 But at least one thing is evident: with his attention for the shapes of ancient buildings and settlements, he shows that he was looking for models of this kind. Finally, it must of course remain controversial, whether he ever made it to these sites and especially whether he had the chance to take sketches or plans from them. In this sense, if our suspicion of a partially deliberate assimilation of the planning methods and attitudes of the ancients in Scamozzi is justified, he must have been in so far anti-Vitruvian, as he goes widely beyond what the to-date knowledge of Vitruvius’s geometric systems was at his time, using even much more rigorous geometrical grids and systems than we might suppose in the Latin author. Other important aspects, of course, are simultaneously present in Scamozzi’s theoretical system as well. Partly because of the long-lasting understating attitude of scholarship towards Scamozzi’s architectural-theoretical relevance (see e. g. the case of his sepulchre in S. Lorenzo, Vicenza, and the related comment by Milizia)41 it has not been aknowledged yet that this architect, with his scientific and acribic observations of ancient buildings, has widely anticipated the birth of modern archaeology. M. A. Borys had already intuited it in her judgement: Scamozzi “conceives his temporal relationship to antiquity more certainly” than his “predecessors”.42 Furthermore, he had a peculiar interest in the commensurability of urban planning with the purposes of the good government (see, in Idea, the important chapter: “Il trattar delle forme delle città”).43 And this interest is very much to be understood in a Vitruvian sense. Panofsky indeed offered with his theory of the “principle of disjunction of meaning and form”44 a universal instrument for categorising and above all understanding this category of changes during the age of humanism. According to the architectural standard, just as also happens in the case of the literary standard, an important insight evidently emerges from the reading of the Vitruvianists’ writings: it was specifically in the moment of deepest recognition and understanding for the multiple significations of the original Greek-Roman material, that it became obsolete, no more urgently interpreted as normative, but just as a source for “contemporary form”.

40 41 42 43 44

Repr. ed. by F. Nicolini (1925), 174. Milizia (1768), 311. Borys (1998), 59. Scamozzi (1615), P. I, Cap. XXVII, 152. Panofsky (1965), 106: “Wherever a sculptor or painter borrows a figure or a group from classical poetry, mythology or history, he almost invariably presents it in a non-classical, viz. contemporary form”.

176

Paolo Sanvito

4. The Theatre of Sabbioneta, an Example of the Application of Pragmatic Principles Soon at the end of the 1580s, after having been appointed as stage technician, or in February 1585 even more, after having been elected as the soprastante 45 for the Teatro Olimpico by the local Accademia Olimpica in Vicenza, Scamozzi quickly developed as an expert of stage and theatre construction, letting himself be involved in further important stage plans in Italy. Some of them are well documented in drawings or prints,46 but have been ephemeral, which is among the reasons why we cannot consider them in their position with regard to Vitruvius. These projects, and the Sabbioneta example, can only confirm that a high commitment in the stage arts was not only coming up in Venice, but also in the Mantuan state (fig. 8). In Mantua governed over a period of 25 years (1587 – 1612) a great theatre maecenas and a generous patron of Claudio Monteverdi and Torquato Tasso: duke Vincenzo Gonzaga, who was simultaneously a member of the academy in Vicenza.47 Another Mantuan Gonzaga, Ferrante, had earlier been author of a Pastorale drama, as Angelo Ingegneri (stage director in Vicenza) reports in his treatise on the stage,48 and had been already a member of the Vicenza academy since 1584 as well. It should not be forgotten that Mantua already possessed a widely admired “Teatro di Corte”, enclosed in the Duke’s citadel buildings since 1549 (its architect has been Giulio Romano’s pupil Giambattista Bertani). In Mantua, however, only spare memories of these buildings are now preserved, which lets the pivotal importance of Sabbioneta increase in our eyes. In Vicenza as well, in the Archive of the Accademia Olimpica some technical investigations on the stage are reported, on the side of its own patrons: we find in this manuscript an Elenco di lettere, orazioni e suppliche lette in teatro, and among others a letter by Marcantonio Pasi “Ingegnere del Duca di Ferrara”,

45 While Silla Palladio, one of Andrea’s sons, is re-elected at the same date the “governatore delle robe” of the theatre. 46 See in general Benini Clementi (1984); Barbieri (1952), 126. For a reproduction of an ephemeral stage, see Breiner (1994), 1050. As Maino (2010) reports, he “per l’entrata della dogaressa Morosina Morosini Grimani nel 1597”, realised a Portico Argonautico, (reproduced in an engraving by Giacomo Franco, Venice, Museo Correr) “un teatro del mondo, un edificio galleggiante che, secondo la consuetudine del tempo, s’ispira alla simbologia del macrocosmo anche per la sua forma rotonda; quindi oltre a rendere omaggio ai Grimani, la macchina scamozziana rappresenta il globo col cielo stellato”, cf. for this particular case and also for other teatri del mondo Padoan Urban (1966), 142 – 144. 47 On his activity as a patron and especially on the court theatre: Faccioli (1962), 574. 48 Ingegneri (1598), 28.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

177

Fig. 8. Vincenzo Scamozzi, Sabbioneta, Theatre: section and ground plan drawing (the dedication to Vespasiano has been excised from the picture), Uffizi, Gabinetto dei disegni e delle stampe, n. 191 A

“eccellente d’invenzioni per illuminare”, and also another letter by Scamozzi, addressed as the “inventore delle prospettive”.49 There is strong evidence for the Serlian ascendence of Scamozzi’s early theatrical concepts and structures, which has been already pointed out by Mazzoni in 1984; these concepts appeared corrected according to the more updated Barbaro treatise on perspective, which he released in double – Italian and Latin – version to be printed in 1569.50 Of course it has been recognised that the Sabbionetan case relies on much more than only Serlianism: but surely the latter is rather a proof for a detachment from the Vitruvian theatre model. A comparison of Sabbioneta with the stages for the Bacchides designed in 1531 by Serlio’s teacher Peruzzi in Rome (fig. 9) could be very useful. This Plautus show was a specific commission for the Cesarini-Colonna wedding: Antonio da Sangallo the Younger, in the same year, provided a sketch of the stages, Florence Uffizi UA845r, and Peruzzi provided the technical plans in the 49 Libro segnato M; b. 2, fasc. 11, Accademia Olimpica I. 1555 – 1687, c. 99v. 50 The Latin version, in a manuscript ready for printing in Venice National Library, is the Cod. Lat. VIII, 41 (=3069), Scenographia Pictoribus et Sculptoribus perutilis, and could not be printed (Barbaro dies one year later).

178

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 9. Baldassarre Peruzzi, Stages for the Bacchides, designed in 1531 in Rome. Uffizi, Gabinetto dei disegni e delle stampe, n. 268

Drawings 268 and 269 (now in the same collection). Peruzzi’s stages, built according to his most updated technique, date back to even earlier: for example, his celebrated Calandria (1514).51 “Serlian models” of theatres were evidently, for a long period, a dominant feature, even through the same years of the example in Sabbioneta: like Baldassarre Lanci’s (et al.) Serlian stage set for Giovan Battista Cini’s La vedova in 1569, in Florence.52 For the mentioned reasons the stage in Sabbioneta might be considered somewhat a rehearsal of philology or (Serlian) academicism in its shape; besides, however, it betrays Scamozzi’s preference for projects using regular geometric forms (which are per se a Leitmotiv in architectural history): we recognise an “emphasis on the ‘universal’ efficacy of regular forms”.53 Scamozzi’s system is one “that should yield a comprehension of a universal architecture” – as the title Idea suggests – “by establishing the relationship between the universal natural 51 Poggi (2005), 444: “si deduce che la prospettiva solida fosse già stata utilizzata dal Peruzzi nel 1514”. 52 On him see the contribution by Maltese (1980). 53 Frascari (1998), 258.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

179

order perceived by the mind (Platonic Ideas) and the qualities particular to buildings”.54 This “post-Serlian” character of course made the architect superate the Vitruvian theatre rules, in order to elaborate a plan which is very functional to the needs of contemporary musical performances at the local court (i. e.: its acoustics would be different from that of ancient Roman theatres; and on the other hand it is also very efficient from a perspectival and stage technical point of view). For several reasons Sabbioneta dismatches the plans and descriptions contained in Vitruvian editions (original drawings from Vitruvius of course are missing) of an ideal “Theatre of the Latins” (considered superior to the Greek one). It even ignores any imagination of an “ancient Roman theatre”. Some of these reasons could be systematically listed as follows. 1. Scamozzi introduced a sloping floor in the cavea, as it was already well recognisable in the plan from 1588 (Uffizi, section plan drawing, fig. 8); it is now destroyed and replaced by an average flat floor.55 2. He placed the throne of the patron of the theatre, Vespasiano Gonzaga, in the loggia, and not in the orchestra or in the lower part of the cavea, as in the Vitruvian/post-Vitruvian tradition. In the Latin theatre the privileged seats were rather close to the stage. Vicenza academician Niccolò Rossi wrote in those same years about the position of senators and honoratiores in the Roman theatre tradition: in fact, in the orchestra, as Suetonio nella vita di Nerone reports, “sedevano i senatori, forse nel tempo degli Imperatori, che prima loro era assignato un luogho ne i quatordeci primi ordini, che erano piu presso alla scena, per diverse leggi le quali rammemora”, etc.56 3. He eliminated the scenae frons (a decision contrary to the Palladian tradition as well) and replaced it by a deep (in its shape completely antiVitruvian) perspectival street relying on Barbaro’s treatise La pratica della perspettiva (1569). Scamozzi is a self-confessed follower of him in his works, including the Trattato della prospettiva, which is lost but quoted in the Indice al Serlio (1584), the complete edition of Serlio’s work with a long critical index. Here, for example, we find the lemma Linea visiva, whose definition reads: “Dilatandosi per più numero di canali, si viene a crescere, et fa parere la cosa maggiore; vedi la Prospettiva dello Scamozzi, Alhageno, Vitellione et il dottissimo Barbaro”.57 A glance at the fresco decoration of the Corridor grande or Galleria degli Antichi in the Palazzo del Giardino, painted by Giovanni and Alessandro Alberti 54 55 56 57

Frascari (1998), 252. Mazzoni (1985), 73. About the destruction in 1805: Guaita (in Mazzoni [1985]) 105. Rossi (1590), 37v. Mazzoni (1985), 27, interestingly noticed that in the 1600 reprint of the same treatise the word “dottissimo” has been erased, but not because of an “atteggiamento polemico”. Indice al Serlio, = Scamozzi (1584), V (the first pages bear Roman numerals).

180

Paolo Sanvito

Fig. 10. Sabbioneta: Corridor grande or Galleria degli Antichi, (Palazzo del Giardino) frescoes by Giovanni and Alessandro Alberti, 1587 (Photo: Stefan Weinzierl, Berlin)

might reveal how important precision and skill in perspectival painting were among the interests specifically of the Gonzaga di Sabbioneta: they are a veritable exercise of exemplary illusionistic views of the city (fig. 10). Their date is around 1587, thus exactly overlapping the dates of Scamozzi’s first contacts with the Gonzaga.58 4. He reformulated the orthodox Vitruvian versurae completely, replacing them by two painted illusionistic triumphal arches, in order to give space to the celebration ceremony of the patron, who was expected to enter, according to the ceremonial, by stepping over the threshold of one of the painted triumphal arches. Vespasiano’s ceremonial entrance was the right side portal of the building. And (5.) he located in a very innovative way a specific “orchestral space” at the rear of the theatre, something which had never existed in earlier reconstructions of the “Latin theatre” of Vitruvian imprinting. Vitruvius would have normally put here the porticus post scaenam. Already in the wonderful stage construction in Vicenza (1584 – 1585), Scamozzi had demonstrated that he could conceive a radically new stage form, which had in fact not even existed (with the same features) in Serlio’s or Peruzzi’s 58 Especially Kruft has pointed out to the symptomatic importance of these frescoes, in (1989), 53.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

181

Fig. 11. Axonometric projection. Sabbioneta, Theatre

concepts: Vicenza’s stage exceeds in depth all earlier examples we know. From recent scholarship we learn that the performance project of the first theatrical season had planned an instrumental ouverture, a fifteen members tragic choir and a large ensemble of actors. Similar conditions might have been valid in Sabbioneta for Pastorali dramas as well (though they usually had, as the term says, a non-tragic, peaceful ambiance); or maybe just a reduced number of singers. Pastoral dramas were also considered as referring to a “tragicomic” genre; their most successful example had been staged in neighboring Ferrara in

182

Paolo Sanvito

1581, Tasso’s Aminta. 59 The documentary material is in fact problematic as far as the position of the musical orchestra is concerned. Scamozzi, as usual, very carefully indicated in his presentation drawing the Musici (as we read in the legend written by himself in the spot of this room) in the elevated space on the second floor of the backstage. Even a door connected the central platform to the room in the far back right corner (fig. 11, axonometric projection); but in conclusion a clear statement about the diverse use of spaces on this first floor proves irrelevant: if the musicians are supposed to receive those spaces, it cannot be meant only a central part of them, the neighboring one must have been involved in their use. But what we have in the Uffizi is a section elevation plan, therefore not showing precisely whether this space is meant to be at the farthest right corner of the backstage first floor, or in its centre. The space for the Comici, similarly indicated below, finds itself on the ground floor as we can recognise from the drawing, and in this case it is uncontroversially evident that this is located at the farthest right-hand corner, because the central spot of the backstage is here occupied by a section of the slopy stage floor itself. Now the relevant question concerning the musical practice in this, as well as in many other early modern classicising theatre examples is: whether the musicians only paused in these (upper central – upper right) spaces, or they also performed for the dramatic action below them. The functional relevance of these numerous supplementary rooms is highlighted by Scamozzi himself, in his description reported by Temanza.60 The upper central platform, (fig. 12, in a picture shot during restoration works) still extant today, might suggest that they did use it as a performing location. But a comparison with the other one of Scamozzi’s stages could be helpful to answer the question, on which spot the music was performed. Scamozzi had just completed in March 1585 the Vicenza wooden and plaster stage61 and, as I was able to demonstrate in a specific monograph in 2012, there he had agreed to locate the musichi (sic) at the farthest spot in the building, but outside of the theatre. The theatre of Sabbioneta instead offers, maybe for the first time in the history of theatre architecture, a large elevated space (fig. 11: view of the axonometric projection) behind the stage, which is especially visible today after the distruction of the original wooden and 59 See on this genre, which “declined in popularity in Italy towards the middle of the 17th century”, Geoffrey Chew, Pastorale, in: http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.562199527. article/grove/music/40091?q=Pastoral&search=quick&source=omo_gmo&pos=1&_ start=1#firsthit, consulted: 1. 1. 2015. 60 Temanza (1778), 434: the theatre is built “oltre alcune stanze da un lato, e dall’altro, accomodate a vari usi”. 61 See on this subject most recently: Sanvito (2012b); and Sanvito/Weinzierl (2013), result of the common researches on the Akustik historischer Aufführungsräume für Musik und Theater, a project of the Humboldt Universität and the Technische Universität Berlin.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

183

Fig. 12. Sabbioneta, view of the backstage during the restoration campaign, 1957 – 59 (Photo: Stefan Weinzierl, Berlin)

displaceable scenes which we recognise in the project (here on fig. 8). Several original reports from the Vicenza theatre commission notes demonstrate that a certain distance of the chamber orchestra from the stage and from the audience would get particular appreciation and the explicit support of the makers and artists themselves: not only Scamozzi helped, in this respect, the Academicians’

184

Paolo Sanvito

commission deliberating about the form of the Olimpico, as the drawing D.52 (1599) from the Museo Civico di Vicenza proves, but also the stage director Ingegneri’s, or the lighting engineer Marcantonio Pasi’s statements, or other commentators’ of the opening performance confirm. In 1599, the neighboring space called “Salla della m.[agnifi]ca Comunità”, elsewhere also named camerone,62 where Scamozzi since 1608 will be constructing his Odeo (accomplished in 1609), seems to have been in 1585 even closer to the stage than after 1609, though this might depend on an imprecision of the drawing.63 But Ingegneri for example wrote about the wide range of recitation manners in the Vicenza performance as follows: Basterà che i detti Chori sieno cantati semplicissimamente, e tanto, che paiano solo differenti dal parlare ordinario. Ma dove i Chori varranno per intermedi, o dove non sarà altra musica, si devranno cantare con arte maggiore: et non sia per aventura male à proposito il dar loro alcuna compagnia d’istromenti posti dalla parte di dentro della Scena, con riguardo però che tutti insieme facciano un corpo solo di musica [italics mine], et non paiano due chori, overo uno simigli l’Echo dell’altro. Et circa al situare la musica dal detto lato di dentro, sarà da haver grandemente occhio ch’ella giaccia in luogo donde ugualmente risuoni à tutto ’l Theatro, in cui non sia una parte, che l’oda meglio dell’altra. Et in somma, che il diletto sia giustamente compartito così à gli orecchi, come à gli occhi degli Spettatori.

We have to keep in mind that Ingegneri’s treatise bases on the Vicenza experience, but refers to a wide range of possible solutions for similar performances. In the Edipo there has been no double choir: the single choir might therefore also have sung alone; and if it had to sing with instruments, then in their presence. That special “interior” space, from which the music shall be able to easily reach the ears of the entire audience, was apparently the “Salla”, later transformed into Odeo, which is also – like the Musici in Sabbioneta – at a slightly higher level than the stage. A separation of the instrumental from the vocal performance is thus clearly objectionable and then refused, interpreting this as a reciprocal disturbance for the performers themselves and the listeners (“insieme facciano un corpo solo di musica, et non paiano [to the spectators] due chori”). It did not ever happen, apparently, that the instrumental orchestra had to perform alone, and then that its position should be the interior spot; it is always the same spot where the fifteen members choir stands – and this might have moved to the stage space from the salla, or viceversa: see what Dolfin (“concerto di stromenti da fiato e di voci”), Pigafetta (music “concertata di voci e di instrumenti”) and Ingegneri (“musica di stromenti e di voci, dolce il più che si possa”) say. In any case, all the sources agree on the fact that the choir was 62 A.O., busta 4, fasc. 70, …Da l’anno 1600 in poi, c. 32r ff. 63 See: Sanvito (2012b), fig. 22.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

185

accompanied, even at the beginning of the show, by instruments.64 An option of having part of the music performance in Scamozzi’s stage, or worse, behind it, is therefore not possible (also for reasons of lacking space; only the maximum height of the backstage central perspective is in Vicenza ca. 5,5 metres, but its width is only as narrow as 1,5 metres; outside the prospettiva, the spare room is just about the same width).65 Also, the sketches by Ingegneri now in the Ambrosiana Library clearly show that the left versura perspective, leading to the locho per li musichi, was accessible by an entrance which is broad enough; this entrance might also have been hidden by a documented curtain (gelosia) according to Mazzoni, but there is no ultimate evidence whether this happened during the Edipo show.66 Recent acoustical measurements by Weinzierl have confirmed in some way the high level of Scamozzi’s technical skillfulness: in an article in print, the Audiocommunication team at the TU Berlin is able to record that “with reverberation times of 3,3 s[econds] (Vicenza), 2,4 s (Sabbioneta) and 2,9 s (Parma) for the unoccupied room, the theatres of the Renaissance period are considerably more reverberant than any baroque opera houses”, whereas the time is 1,7 s in Sabbioneta in the “occupied condition” (really close to modern parameters).67 As early as 1588 – 90 the disparity between Scamozzi’s formal and technical models and those by Palladio begins to impose itself in any case, and with evidence: there is no wonder thus, if in a letter “al signor Federico Cattaneo li 14 gennaio 1589”, the Mantuans stated: “We have appointed Mr Scamozzi [Scamocchia; sic!], who does not descend to be defined a pupil of Palladio’s and asserts that he is more capable than him” (the letter, by a courtier, is not signed alas). Scamozzi is also, as we in part saw, much more concerned with the rationalisation of urban architecture, than his Paduan predecessor had been.68 Incidentally, Borys’s recent proposal, considering the theatre interior as a direct reference to the city shape of Sabbioneta does not only seem audacious though, 64 Giacomo Dolfin, in Lettera di Dolfin a Battista Guarini…, 4. 3. 1585: “un concerto di stromenti da fiato e di voci che si udiva di dentro suave molto e dilettevole”. Filippo Pigafetta: “dalla prospettiva di dentro s’udì una musica da lontano concertata di voci e d’instrumenti”. In fact the door connecting the stage to the “Salla” is one of the seven Scamozzian perspectives. Besides I agree with Mazzoni (1998), 130 and his precision in indicating the reasons for the necessity of a common performing space for all the musicians. 65 A recent personal communication by Weinzierl inform me that he made measurements behind the stage, with (logically) no sensible results. 66 Mazzoni (1998), 131. 67 I thank my colleagues fom the TU Berlin for letting me participate to a part of the script. 68 ASMn, Busta 1521. See Mazzoni (1985), 79: “Si è trovato il Scamocchia, il quale non si degna d’esser chiamato alevo del Paladia, ma dice, che ha cose molto migliori di esso Paladia”.

186

Paolo Sanvito

but also based on fragile concrete evidence: according to her, “His whole interior, not just the stage scenery, is a miniature ideal city where the essential urban image of Sabbioneta was realised”. In a diagram, she points out to the correspondence between the two spaces and volumes, on one hand the theatre, on the other the main Piazza Ducale. Planimetries and volumes of both however, basically differing from each other, cannot resemble each other to this point; besides, no autographic statement unfortunately proves that any correspondence between the two spaces was deliberate on Scamozzi’s (or anyone else’s at the court) side.69 Much more relevant in the perspectival sphere is another fact: no doubt, that the perfectly rectangular Piazza Ducale could be seen as a perspective (and many squares are rectangular!), but the theatre interior has to necessarily be seen according to a specific perspectival order, whose roots in Serlio’s and Barbaro’s treatises have been sufficiently highlighted by the mentioned monograph by Mazzoni.70 Scamozzi makes this necessary order extremely transparent by even drawing (in the mentioned Uffizi presentation drawing, upper half, fig. 8) the axis of the vanishing point in the theatre space, letting it start from the standpoint of the duke (Vespasiano) in the middle of the auditorium, then constitute the symmetrical axis of the building, and finally terminate directly in the centre of the first floor space for the Musici. More than a perspectivist-cosmographer à la Egnatio Danti, Scamozzi therefore emerges from most investigations as the best architect-stage designer of his time.71 69 Borys (2014), 167. Further explanation might still be needed with regard to the title of this last paragraph, which defines “Vespasiano Gonzaga’s Theatre a Chorography” (157). Notwithstanding the suggestive relevance of Borys’s idea of “chorographic architecture”, there is apparently no need to consider the Olimpico a chorography (unless otherwise proved); and Scamozzi does not seem to use the term at all, not only in this context – also in Temanza’s or other quotes. Besides, his own words about the theatre are very scarce, especially in the entire Idea, thus not supporting Borys’s hypotheses. Unfortunately Borys’s book came out during the last proof correction of the present conference proceedings, which did not allow a thorough consideration of its arguments in my contribution. 70 Mazzoni (1985), esp. the chapter Il trattato di Scamozzi tra Serlio, Barbaro, Danti, 25 ff. 71 J. W. von Goethe, as early as in a letter of 1795, is a paramount example for the rare farsighted intellectuals of modern times who have seen the depth of Scamozzi’s contribution at large. According to him, the Idea is characterised by “eine Fülle, ein Umfang, eine Nüchternheit, eine Methode, die höchst erfreulich sind. Seine Kenntnisse natürlicher Gegenstände so richtig und rein, als es zu seiner Zeit nur möglich war. […] Ich möchte aber auch beynah sagen: die Baukunst ist der einzige Gegenstand, über welchen man ein solches Buch schreiben kann; denn nirgend ist das erste Bedürfniß und der höchste Zweck so nah verbunden: des Menschen Wohnung ist sein halbes Leben, der Ort, wo er sich niederläßt, die Luft, die er einathmet, bestimmen seine Existenz, unzählige Materialien, die uns die Natur anbietet, müssen zusammen gebracht werden, wenn ein Gebäude von einiger Bedeutung aufgeführt werden soll”. Here Goethe recognised also how important the philosophical, or spiritual aspects of this art per se are, since he sees

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

187

5. Conclusive notes on the function of the theatre in Sabbioneta – and its decline We read in De Dondi’s Estratti that the theatrical genre which was performed in the Sabbionetan Olimpico in its short time of activity was nothing than the pastorale drama.72 The building was opened for the Carneval celebration in 1590, stayed open for the duration of fifteen days, with pastorale performances, which were considered as related to the “comic” genre, and also with dances. A fix ensemble, named I confidenti, was appointed by Vespasiano on March, 18th, 1590, with the obligation of being resident in the theatre for an obligatory period of 60 days a year.73 For all these reasons, as Zorzi wrote, Sabbioneta can be defined a democratic experiment “unico nel suo genere”,74 but therefore it is, to a large extent, unconventional as well. We will have to come back to such “unconventional” aspects of Scamozzi’s aesthetics, because they have not been sufficiently pointed out by scholarship. As far as his social origin is concerned, he stemmed from a rather middle class family of masons and stone cutters, and this might be among the reasons why he was able to achieve a sort of technical conversion of architecture at the end of the century – which would have hardly taken place without his courageous, unconventional intervention in Sabbioneta – as well as earlier in Vicenza.75 I suppose that Scamozzi’s late move towards technology and slight anti-academic orientation interestingly run parallel to a major development taking place in the Italian scholarly world as well: the increasing anti-Aristotelianism in Padua – and in other relevant centres of learning.76 Finally, a problematic architectural feature, which of course prescinds from the Vitruvian models as well, is the unfortunate theatre ceiling: according to

72 73 74 75 76

them related to the essence of life, not only to creativity (Letter to Heinrich Meyer, Dec. 30th, 1795; I thank Prof. Franco Barbieri for calling my attention to it). De Dondi (1857), 359. Mazzoni (1985), 89. Zorzi (1977), 172: “L’idea della sala e quella del cortile, il peristilio e la cavea classica, il palcoscenico aperto e la sintesi delle tre scene (tragica, comica e di paesaggio) si fondono in un organismo perfettamente equilibrato e unico […]”. See for an analysis of Scamozzi’s unconventional positions: Puppi (1967), 325. Sabbioneta is perhaps the first place in the world in which the art of the stage receives an official recognition by a state and is regularly payed by the central treasury. See on the anti-Aristotelian polemics also: Bolzoni (1980), 102, with regard to Francesco Patrizi in Ferrara and Padua – and its relationship to Naples. At the end of the 16th century, “l’antiaristotelismo costituisce terreno comune di impegno, e favorisce l’incontro con il pensiero di Telesio”; she verifies a “rapporto positivo con quella componente della cultura meridionale contemporanea che era orientata in direzione antiaristotelica e naturalistica e che […] avrebbe preso posizione in senso nettamente antimanierista”.

188

Paolo Sanvito

Mazzoni, Scamozzi should have planned a vaulted ceiling, though there is no historical document supporting this hypothesis. Urgent refurbishment works (to avoid a complete collapse of the roof ) are reported in 1802, which lead to the present coffered ceiling.77 Whether Mazzoni’s proposal of an original wooden barrel vault, or the more widely accepted theory of a (more or less) faithfully reconstructed coffered ceiling is valid, in both cases we would be in presence of a largely wooden roof construction, whose acoustical properties can be considered as generally appreciated in the late Renaissance – after having been presented by Vitruvius as “acoustically proficient”. After Frascari’s unique and inspiring contribution on the theatre of Sabbioneta, a last question imposes itself urgently: are there deliberate astronomical meanings in the theatre design, hinting to the perfection of the work and the magnificence of the patrons, in this case, or even in similar ones? Frascari does not seem to be aware of the interpretation of several archaeologists such as Bruno Poulle’s: the theatre as a reflection of the zodiaque and not only as a device or “machina” respecting acoustical needs.78 However, already Frances Yates had formerly precognised the astrological point of view in her early studies on Camillo Delminio, especially where she referred to earlier ancient theatra, on which Camillo relied: “Through its basis in symbolic geometry, geometrical form symbolising the cosmos and man’s relationship to it, the ancient theatre was a theatre of the world”.79 In fact, as already Loredana Olivato80 reported, there is clear evidence of a wide posthumous success of Camillo’s works among humanists of later generations, either in Venice or in the nearest major capitals (Ferrara): his Idea del theatro was publicly read and commented in at least one council of the Olympic Academy in 1569, i. e. after Scamozzi had begun 77 ASMn, Prefettura alto Po, b. 8, petition to the Commissario di governo aiming to “andare al riparo della ruina minacciata dal pericoloso tetto di detto Teatro”. 78 Poulle (2000), 42: “nous hazarderons une explication extérieure au domaine de la simple acoustique”; and “Vitruve lui-même, à plusieurs reprises, nous suggère une interpretation astronomique”, with reference to I, I, 16 and V, VI, 1; here, the phenomenon of overtones is seen as a parallel to the reciprocal attraction of celestial bodies; see especially 50. 79 Yates (1981), 43. 80 Olivato (1979), 248; and Idem (1971). Another evidence for the interest into Camillo’s work among patrons and academicians of the Italian theatres of this period is found in the Prefazione di L. Dolce in Giulio Camillo, Tutte le opere, Venezia, Giolito de Ferrari 1552: “essendo dal Signor Marchese del Vasto (come io intesi dal Mutio) imposto all’eccellentissimo M. Giulio Camillo, che volesse per via di scrittura dargli alcun saggio di quel suo tanto maraviglioso Theatro, del quale era sparsa la fama per tutta Italia; egli nel spatio di otto mattine […] dette il seguente trattato da lui chiamato Idea” (quoted in Mazzoni [1985], 35). Alfonso d’Avalos, who was also a patron of Titian’s, was indeed later involved in Vespasiano’s Sabbionetan enterprise, as we read on 3. 5. 1590 about “una commedia in onore” of himself, who was visiting on purpose, “ad udire una comedia nella scena di detta Sabbioneta” (De Dondi [1857], 361 – 362).

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

189

frequenting it, which testifies to a solid knowledge of the Friulian author particularly in the Terraferma. Its echo apparently travelled westwards and reached the Duchy of Mantua.

190

Paolo Sanvito

Bibliography Aristoteles, Meteorologie, (reprint) Darmstadt 1970 (First printed edition, Greek: Venezia, Aldo Manuzio, 1497). Aristoteles, Aristotelis philosophorum maximi Secretum secretorum ad Alexandrum. De regum regimine: De sanitatis conseruatione: De physionomia. Eiusdem de signis tempestatum ventorum aquarum. Eiusdem de mineralibus. Alexandri aphrodisiaei Clarissimi […] de intellectu. Auerrois magni comentatoris de anime beatudine. Alexandri Achillini bononiensis de vniuersalibus. Alexandri macedonis [= Alexander magnus] in septentrione monarche de mirabilibus Indiae, Bononiae imp. Benedicti Hectoris, 1501. Barbieri, Franco, Vincenzo Scamozzi, Vicenza 1952 Barbieri, Franco, Vincenzo Scamozzi (1548 – 1616) architettura è scienza, Vicenza, Museo Palladio, Palazzo Barbaran da Porto, 7 settembre 2003 – 11 gennaio 2004, Centro Internazionale di Studi di Architettura Andrea Palladio, hg. v. Barbieri, Franco/ Beltramini, Guido. Fotografie di Václav Sˇedy´, Vicenza 2003. Benini Clementi, Enrica, “Teatri del Mondo veneziani”, in: Quaderni di teatro 25 (1984), 54 – 67. Bolzoni, Lina, L’ Universo dei poemi possibili; Studi su Francesco Patrizi da Cherso, Roma 1980. Borys, M. Ann, Vincenzo Scamozzi, inventor: Architectural Demonstrations from the Last Renaissance Treatise, Philadelphia 1998. Borys, M. Ann, Vincenzo Scamozzi and the chorography of early modern architecture, Farnham 2014. Bredekamp, Horst, Galilei der Künstler. Der Mond. Die Sonne. Die Hand, Berlin 2007. Breiner, David, Vincenzo Scamozzi 1548 – 1616. A Catalogue Raisonné, Ithaca 1994. Bruno, Giordano, Triginta sigilli, London 1583. Cicognara, Leopoldo, Catalogo ragionato dei libri d’arte e d’antichità posseduti dal Conte Cicognara, Pisa, 1821, (2 vol.) vol. 2. De Dondi, Niccolò, Estratti del diario delle cose avvenute in Sabbioneta dal MDLXXX al MDC, Milano, Colombo 1857. Drake, Stillman, “On the probable order of Galileo’s Notes on Motion”, in: Physis 14 (1972), 55 – 68. Drake, Stillman, “The Role of Music in Galileo’s Experiments”, in: Scientific American 232 (June 1975), 98 – 104. Fabrizi, Angelo, “Vincenzo Scamozzi e gli scrittori antichi (studio sui ‘Sommari’ inediti)”, in: Studi secenteschi 17 (1976), 101 – 137. Faccioli, Emilio, Le lettere, Mantova 1962. Ficino, Marsilio, Omnia Platonis opera tralatione Marsilij Ficini, Venetiis, Hieronymus Scotus, 1571. Ficino, Marsilio, Divini Platonis opera omnia, London 1826 (ND). Forcellini, Egidio, Lexicon totius Latinitatis, Padova 1965. Forster, Kurt, “Stagecraft and Statecraft: the Architectural Integration of Public Life and Theatrical Spectacle in Scamozzi’s Theater at Sabbioneta”, in: Oppositions 9 (1977), 63 – 87. Frascari, Marco, “The Mirror Theatre of Vincenzo Scamozzi”, in: Paper Palaces, ed. Vaughan Hart/Peter Hicks, New Haven/London 1998, 247 – 263. Freedberg David, The Eye of the Lynx: Galileo, His Friends, and the Beginnings of Modern Natural History, Chicago 2002.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

191

Galilei, Galileo, On motion and On mechanics: comprising De motu (ca. 1590), transl., with introd. and notes, by Israel E. Drabkin; and Le meccaniche (ca. 1600) transl. with introd. and notes by Stillman Drake, Madison 1960. Geertman, Herman, “Geometria e aritmetica in alcune case ad atrio pompeiane”, in: Bulletin antieke beschaving 59/1 (1984a), 31 – 25. Hippocrates, De aëre, aquis, & locis, Romae, ex ædibus Francisci Minitii Calui Nouocomensis, 1525. Hippocrates, Zppojq²tou J¾ou Peq· !´qym, rd²tym, tºpym. Peq· v¼sym. Hippocratis Coi De aëre, aquis, & locis libellus, Basileae, Episcopius, 1529. Hippocrates, Hippocratis Coi […] Opera quae ad nos extant omnia, Venetiae, ap. Erasmum, 1546. Hoepfner, Wolfram, “Vorwort: Maße – Proportionen – Zeichnungen”, in: Bauplanung und Bautheorie der Antike: Bericht über ein Kolloquium veranstaltet vom Architekturreferat des Deutschen Archäologischen Institutes [DAI] mit Unterstützung der Stiftung Volkswagenwerk in Berlin vom 16.11. bis 18. 11. 1983 , Berlin (1984) = Diskussionen zur archäologischen Bauforschung, 4, 13 – 23. Ingegneri, Angelo, Della poesia rappresentativa e del modo di rappresentare le favole, Ferrara, Baldini 1598. Knox, Dilwyn, “Bruno’s Doctrine of Gravity, Levity and Natural Circular Motion”, in: Physis N.S. 38 (2001), 171 – 209. Knox, Dilwyn, “Copernicus’s Doctrine of Gravity and the Natural Circular Motion of the Elements”, in: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 68 (2005), 157 – 211. Kruft, Hanno-Walter, Geschichte der Architekturtheorie. Von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart, München 1991. Kruft, Hanno-Walter, Städte in Utopia: die Idealstadt vom 15. bis zum 18. Jahrhundert zwischen Staatsutopie und Wirklichkeit, München 1989. Lampridio, Elio (et al.), In hoc volumine haec continentur. Ioannis Baptistae Egnatij Veneti de Caesaribus libri 3. à dictatore Caesare ad Constantinum Palaeologum, hinc à Carolo Magno ad Maximilianum Caesarem. Eiusdem in Spartiani, Lampridijque uitas, & reliquorum annotationes. Neruae & Traiani atque Adriani principum uitae ex Dione, Georgio Merula interprete. Aelius Spartianus Iulius Capitolinus Lampridius Flauius Vopiscus Trebellius Pollio Vulcatius Gallicanus ab eodem Egnatio castigati. Addita in calce Heliogabali principis ad meretrices elegantissima oratio non ante impressa. Insuper oratio Aristidis de urbe Roma à Scipione Carteromacho latinitate donata, Florentiae, 1529. Maino, Marzia, Dispositivi illuminotecnici e spettacolo a Vicenza, tesi di laurea, Padova 2010. Maltese, Corrado, “La prospettiva curva di Leonardo da Vinci e uno strumento di Baldassarre Lanci”, in: La prospettiva rinascimentale. Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi tenutosi al Castello Sforzesco, Civiche Raccolte d’Arte di Milano, hg. Marisa Dalai Emiliani, Milano 1980, 417 – 425 Mazzoni, Stefano/Guaita, Ovidio, Il teatro di Sabbioneta, Firenze 1985. Mazzoni, Stefano, L’Olimpico di Vicenza, un teatro e la sua perpetua memoria, Firenze 1998. McEwen Kagis, Indra Vitruvius: Writing the Body of Architecture, Cambridge 2004. Nicolini, Fausto, L’arte napoletana del Rinascimento e la lettera di Pietro Summonte a Marcantonio Michiel, Napoli 1925.

192

Paolo Sanvito

Nova, Alessandro, “The Role of the Winds in Architectural Theory from Vitruvius to Scamozzi”, in: Aeolian Winds & the Spirit in Renaissance Architecture. Academia Eolia Revisited, ed. Barbara Kenda, London 2006, 70 – 86. Oechslin, Werner, Introduction, in: Scamozzi Vincenzo, L’idea della architettura universale, Venezia 1615, reprint Vicenza: Centro Internazionale di Studi di Architettura Andrea Palladio, 1997, I – XXXVIII. Olivato, Loredana “Per il Serlio a Venezia: documenti nuovi e documenti rivisitati”, in: Arte Veneta 25 (1971), 284 – 291. Olivato, Loredana, “Dal teatro della memoria al grande teatro dell’architettura: Giulio Camillo Delminio e Sebastiano Serlio”, in: Bollettino del Centro Internazionale di Studi di Architettura Andrea Palladio 21 (1979), 233 – 252. Padoan Urban, Lina, “Teatri e teatro del mondo nella Venezia del cinquecento”, in: Arte Veneta 20 (1966), 137 – 146. Panofsky, Erwin, Renaissance and Renascences in Western Art, Stockholm 1965. Poggi, Paola, “La prospettiva solida delle Bacchidi e la voluta ionica di Peruzzi”, in: Baldassarre Peruzzi 1481 – 1536. 19. Seminario Internazionale di Storia dell’Architettura maggio 2001, Venezia 2005, 443 – 455. Poulle, Bruno, “Les vases acoustiques du théâtre de Mummius Achaicus”, in: Revue archéologique N. S. 1 (2000), 37 – 50. Puppi, Lionello, “Vincenzo Scamozzi trattatista nell’ambito della problematica del Manierismo”, in: Bollettino del Centro Internazionale di Studi di Architettura Andrea Palladio IX, 1967, 310 – 329. Puppi, Lionello, “Sulle relazioni culturali di V. Scamozzi”, in: Ateneo Veneto 7 (1969), 49 – 66. Puppi, Lionello, Scrittori vicentini d’architettura del secolo XVI: Discorso intorno alle parti dell’architettura, added by Scamozzi to Serlio in 1600 and 1609, Vicenza, 1973. Lionello Puppi, Vincenzo Scamozzi trattatista nell’ambito della problematica del manierismo, in: Bollettino del Centro Internazionale di Studi di Architettura Andrea Palladio IX, 1967, 310 – 369. Rossi, Nicolò, Discorso intorno alla tragedia, Vicenza, appr. Giorgio Greco, 1590. Sanvito, Paolo, “The Urban Grid Plan in Downtown Naples and the Aragonese Dynasty. A Case of Early Modern Greek Revival?”, in: Second International Meeting of the European Architectural History Network, 31 May-3 June 2012, in Bruxelles, ed.: Koninklijke Vlaamse Academie van België voor Wetenschappen en Kunsten, Bruxelles 2012, 346 – 353. (Sanvito 2012a) Sanvito, Paolo, Il Teatro Olimpico di Vicenza. La genesi di un’impresa architettonica e l’Accademia sua fondatrice, Napoli 2012 (Sanvito 2012b) Sanvito, Paolo/Weinzierl, Stefan, “L’acustica del Teatro Olimpico”, in: Odeo Olimpico XXIII, 2013, 463 – 492. Scamozzi, Vincenzo, L’idea della architettura universale, Venezia 1615. Scamozzi, Giandomenico/Scamozzi, Vincenzo (hg.), Tutte le opere d’architettura […] di Sebastiano Serlio et un indice copiosissimo […] raccolto da M. Gio. Domenico Scamozzi Venezia, De’ Franceschi, 1584, rev. 1600 with added Discorso (reprint Bologna 1987). Steckner, Cornelius, “Baurecht und Bauordnung. Architektur, Staatsmedizin und Umwelt bei Vitruv”, in: Vitruv-Kolloquium des Deutschen Archäologen-Verbandes, Darmstadt 1982, 259 – 277. Temanza, Tommaso, Vite dei più celebri architetti, e scultori veneziani che fiorirono nel secolo decimosesto, scritte da …, Venezia, nella stamperia di C. Palese, 1778.

How much Vitruvianism is Left in Vincenzo Scamozzi’s Architectural Theory?

193

Theophrastus Eresius, De ventis: in: Eorum quae hoc uolumine continentur nomina & ordo. Aristotelis uita ex Laertio. Eiusdem uita per ioannem philoponum. Theophrasti uita ex Laertio. Galeni de philosopho historia[.] Aristotelis de physico auditu, libri octo. De coelo, libri quatuor. De generatione & corruptione, duo. Meteorologicorum, quatuor. De mundo ad Alexandrum, unus. Philonis Iudaei de mundo, liber unus. Theophrasti de igne, liber unus. Eiusdem de ventis liber unus[.] De signis aquarum & uentorum, incerti auctoris. Theophrasti de lapidibus, liber unus, Venetiis: in domo Aldi Manutii, 1497. Trüdinger, Karl, Studien zur Geschichte der griechisch-römischen Ethnographie, Basel 1918. Wesenberg, Burkhardt, “Review of Knell, H., Vitruvs Architekturtheorie”, in: Gnomon 59 (1987), 734 – 741. Wille, Günther, Musica Romana. Die Bedeutung der Musik im Leben d. Römer, Amsterdam 1967. Yates, Frances, “Architectural Themes”, in: AA Files. Annals of the Architectural Association 1 (1981), 29 – 53. Yates, Frances, The Art of Memory, Chicago 1966. Zorzi, Ludovico, Il Teatro e la città, Saggi sulla scena italiana, Torino 1977.

Manuscripts Venice, Biblioteca Marciana, Elenco delli autori sopra i quali sono fatti sommarij et dal latino scritto volgarmente, Cod. Marc. It. IV, 128 (5602). Mantua, ASMn, Prefettura alto Po, busta 8, petition to the Commissario di governo, undated. Mantua, ASMn, Busta 1521, Lettera al signor Federico Cattaneo li 14 gennaio 1589.

Da Ercolano a Pompei: declino di Vitruvio nella cultura neoclassica napoletana Fabio Mangone A Vitruvio Volgete il guardo là, dove la fronte Ergono maestose le ruine De le vetuste fabbriche latine, sfidando il tempo, e di barbarie le onte; E chiare troverete ivi le impronte De le più astruse mie scritte dottrine: Io duce, e quelle scorta, aperta al fine Fia del bello ideale a voi la fonte. Così parlava dall’avello antico Il Maestro della Prisca architettura Al pensiero di Palladio e di Bramante Allor che risorgea l’Italo antico Genio, che ogni altro Genio abbaglia e oscura Alta menando fama a se davante Nicola D’Apuzzo

Composto dall’architetto napoletano Nicola D’Apuzzo negli anni Dieci il sonetto1 in epigrafe testimonia le speranze di un borsista del Pensionato borbonico a Roma di trovare improbabili corrispondenze tra le rovine romane misurate e la dottrina vitruviana. Questa ipotesi si rivelerà illusoria, per lui come per tanti altri che lo avevano preceduto nel rilievo e nella misurazione diretta dell’architettura romana. Nel più generale ambito della cultura architettonica napoletana, d’altronde, l’esistenza di palesi incongruenze (delle quali già da tempo avvertivano i fondatori dell’archeologia scientifica neoclassica)2 risulta un dato non soltanto acquisito ma verificabile nell’esperienza quasi di ciascuno, visto che un nuovo generalizzato contatto di prima mano con l’antico è consentito dalla nuova istituzione – murattiana e poi borbonica – del pensionato,3 per un verso, e per l’altro dal netto progresso negli scavi e studi più specificamente architettonici relativi a Pompei,4 che peraltro offrono infinite opportunità lavorative e professionali agli architetti. Di fatto, nonostante la 1 2 3 4

Il sonetto è pubblicato nella più tarda raccolta: D’Apuzzo (1823). Su questi temi, cfr. Mangone (1998), rispetto al quale il presente contributo riprende, rimedita e aggiorna molti concetti. Cfr. Pagliara (1986), 5 – 85. Mangone (1997), 35 – 44. Mangone (2010), 135 – 143.

196

Fabio Mangone

prolungata e direi rinnovata continuità di principi e forme del neoclassicismo, o forse proprio per questo, anche a Napoli la fortuna del massimo trattato di architettura dell’antichità si avvia verso un declino tanto rapido quanto inesorabile. Non che il De architectura resti del tutto ignorato: talora viene ancora chiamato in causa nelle dispute tra architetti o tra eruditi per avvalorare teorie e ipotesi, altre volte in alternativa ad altri classici latini (come gli scritti di Plinio il Vecchio) alimenta la fantasiosa pratica accademica delle “divinazioni”, vale a dire traduzione in progetti formali di testi letterari. Certamente nel 1758 la pregevole traduzione5 del Marchese Berardo Galiani,6 all’epoca da poco nominato Accademico Ercolanense, era stata in qualche misura partecipe del clima culturale che presiedeva alla nuova stagione dell’archeologia borbonica e ai suoi riflessi sulla pratica architettonica. L’impresa aveva contribuito a rendere non solo più accessibile e diffuso, anche in ambito partenopeo, il De Architectura, come mostra fra tutti l’avventura editoriale di Niccolò Carletti7, ma anche rendere più viva la riflessione sulla sua utilità. In qualche misura si trattava di un “coraggioso tentativo d’attualizzare il testo vitruviano, di indagarne i principi e le relazioni profonde per dare risposte ai problemi. Nella traduzione del concittadino Berardo Galiani, fatta oggetto a Napoli anche di una ulteriore edizione nel 1790 presso i fratelli Terres, il De Architectura non manca nella biblioteca ideale degli architetti partenopei operanti nella prima metà dell’Ottocento, ma probabilmente occupa una posizione secondaria rispetto a quella conquistata dalla trattatistica francese da Perrault a Durand. D’altra parte, già nel 1789 Vincenzo Ruffo – pur ritenendo che lo studio del trattato “giova perché contiene buoni principij, ed ottime massime toccanti la condotta morale e l’onestà sì necessaria all’architetto” – aveva rilevato: “L’opera di Vitruvio non solamente non basta a formare un architetto, ma né anche dà una idea abbastanza chiara ed estesa dell’immensità, e della vera grandezza della architettura”8. I primi due decenni del secolo, e soprattutto il decennio francese imprimono una rapida svolta alla cultura napoletana. Si possono individuare numerosi fattori che concorrono all’affermazione di un approccio in qualche misura scientifico all’architettura ed anche al linguaggio del classicismo: la nuova e più rigorosa Scuola di Architettura fondata nel 1802 da Paolo Santacroce reduce da plurime esperienze all’estero, e anche archeologiche in Grecia al seguito di Lord Elgin; la fondazione murattiana della Scuola di Ponti e strade sul modello francese;9 le moderne ricerche tipologiche condotte da esponenti delle nuove 5 6 7 8 9

Galiani (1758). Cfr. Carrafiello (1995). Carletti (1772). Ruffo (1789), 50. Cfr. Scienziati artisti (2003).

Da Ercolano a Pompei: declino di Vitruvio nella cultura neoclassica napoletana

197

generazioni quali Stefano Gasse o Giuliano De Fazio.10 Un metodo “scientifico” adottato non soltanto per rapportarsi ad un antico divenuto sempre più ampio e articolato, ed al tempo stesso più accessibile, ma anche per avvantaggiarsi del progresso nelle conoscenze extra-disciplinari. Non per caso, architetti attivi nell’età della restaurazione borbonica, quali Nicola D’Apuzzo, Francesco De Cesare, Pietro Valente dimostrano una notevole consapevolezza del pensiero economico e in varie occasioni citano con appropriatezza scritti di Say e di Smith11. Sempre più spesso d’altronde gli architetti si dedicano a riflessioni di carattere teorico, nel comune intento di rivendicare la specificità del proprio lavoro, basato sulla complessità del sapere moderno piuttosto che sui vecchi dogmi. Molti “classici” ne fanno spese, e tra questi soprattutto i Principi di Milizia rapidamente invecchiati, e contestati soprattutto perché considerato troppo “astratti” e apodittici, nonché il ben più antico trattato vitruviano. Lo stesso Milizia però aveva non poco contribuito a relativizzare il testo di grande trattatista romano12 : “mi avveggo che né Vitruvio né Raffaello né Palladio sono giunti alla perfezione, e per conseguenza sono superabili. Allegramente”.13 “Se insomma Vitruvio fusse del secolo XIX sarebbe pressocchè inutile ogni altro trattato” scrive Francesco De Cesare,14 introducendo il suo Trattato elementare di architettura civile, edito a Napoli nel 1827; ma, considerato che così non è, bisogna rendere sistematiche le plurime e complesse conoscenze moderne – filosofiche, tecniche, storiche, geografiche – inerenti alla “arte scientifica” per eccellenza. Nel Trattato elementare non bisogna farsi trarre in inganno dall’articolazione in tomi rispettivamente dedicati a solidità, comodità e bellezza, in evidente ossequio alla triade vitruviana (ossequio più formale che sostanziale come era stato già per i Principi dell’architettura civile di Milizia15 del 1781). Basti pensare al concetto di bellezza, così distante dalla venustas vitruviana perché influenzato da innumerevoli spunti moderni: dalla distinzione operata da Claude Perrault tra “positivo” e “arbitrario”; dalla riflessione sul rapporto tra funzione e rappresentazione secondo le suggestive riflessioni di Carlo Lodoli; dalle plurime varianti date dalla “indole nazionale” e dalla “convenienza”, dalla ricerca di congruenza con i contenuti simbolici, nonché infine dal valore più relativo che assoluto della “novità”. E mentre nella ordinaria prassi costruttiva il linguaggio degli ordini regna incontrastato, in un’opera teorica moderna con ambizioni di esaustività non si può fare a meno di illustrare anche il “moresco”, l’“orientale”, il “cinese”, nonché infine l’Egizio che 10 11 12 13 14 15

Cfr. Buccaro (1992). Mangone (1997), 52 – 56. Cfr. Consoli (2003), 461 – 467. Milizia (1781). De Cesare (1827). Sul tema cfr. Consoli (2003).

198

Fabio Mangone

vuoi come declinazione del classico,16 vuoi come stile cimiteriale17 comincia a trovare una qualche possibilità di impiego. L’idea di organizzare razionalmente le conoscenze moderne, fornendo strumenti ben più affilati del vecchio Vitruvio, risulta d’altronde piuttosto diffusa nella Napoli della restaurazione borbonica; ed accanto ad alcune trattazioni con ambizioni di sistematicità, quale è quella di De Cesare, compaiono studi diversamente tagliati, mediante i quali gli architetti napoletani affrontano ora tematiche più legate alla concretezza dell’operare professionale e tecnico,18 ora questioni di natura più filosofica o estetica, non escludendo le tematiche degli ordini ben oltre i precetti vitruviani,19 attraversando con una certa unitarietà di metodo campi eterogenei del sapere, sulla scorta di nuovi orizzonti europei.20 Con la disponibilità di nuovi e più “scientifici” testi, il De Architectura perde non soltanto il valore di imprescindibile viatico per la professione, ma anche come vedremo, quello di indispensabile strumento didattico per la formazione degli allievi-architetti; rimane cioè confinato a mero strumento per eruditi e archeologi che peraltro ne relativizzano l’utilità. Quale importante antefatto per il dibattito napoletano sul valore didattico del sommo trattato bisogna considerare la polemica scoppiata nel 1821 tra i professori di Brera Paolo Landriani e Carlo Amati, ospitata sulle pagine della “Biblioteca Italiana” e segnata addirittura dalla pubblicazione di un’Apologia di Vitruvio Pollione, a firma di Amati.21 Ben più di altre questa disputa accademica è destinata a produrre un’interessante eco a Napoli, soprattutto per alcuni dei temi trattati: pregi e limiti dell’importanza tradizionalmente accordata al De Architectura come strumento didattico, nonché l’individuazione di un ideale grado di maturità per accostarsi utilmente al trattato. Pur senza citare esplicitamente le tesi dei professori di Brera, Pietro Valente mostra di aver meditato a lungo sulla polemica prima di pubblicare nel 1823, nell’occasione del concorso per la cattedra di Architettura del Real Istituto di Belle Arti, un saggio sul tema della didattica, intitolato Della instituzione degli architetti e del miglioramento dell’architettura. 22 Il giovane candidato intende ridimensionare drasticamente il valore assunto a un Vitruvio “datore delle leggi d’architettura”. Partendo dalla ragionevole considerazione, già in qualche misura anticipata da Francesco Milizia, che la fortuna del trattato derivi soprattutto dall’accidenti di esserci pervenuto “solo tra tanti, per le umane vicissitudini”, Valente tiene a storicizzare: Marco Vitruvio Pollione “scriveva allorquando le maggiori mera16 17 18 19 20 21 22

Mangone (2006), 246 – 254. Id. (2004.) Ragucci (1862). Cfr. ad esempio: Stile (1826). Valente (1823). Amati (1821); Id. (1822). Mangone (1996).

Da Ercolano a Pompei: declino di Vitruvio nella cultura neoclassica napoletana

199

viglie di Roma non erano”, e per di più non conosceva direttamente la Grecia, visto che ne accenna “con poca precisione”. Soprattutto l’architetto augusteo non poteva prevedere gli sviluppi successivi: non tanto quelli decorativi che il progredire degli scavi di Pompei documentava, quanto soprattutto lo sviluppo tecnico e il progresso civile futuri. In tal senso, se proprio si vuole trovare nel trattato una certa utilità, “essa è più per gli antiquarij e per quegli architetti che si occupano di restauri o divinazioni di antichi monumenti […] che direttamente per l’arte presso di noi”. In ogni caso, prima di somministrare il complicato trattato ai discenti, occorre un lavoro paziente, avviato in prima approssimazione e in maniera neanche troppo sintetica dallo stesso Valente: un’analisi critica basata sulla “ragione” e tesa a separare alcune parti genericamente utili, ancorché troppo prolissi e non di rado impregnati di “oscurità e confusione”, da quelli drammaticamente superati dal progresso civile, scientifico o tecnico (come ad esempio alcune nozioni di ordine costruttivo oppure militare) e divenuti pertanto “di sola curiosità”;23 una cernita per distinguere tra le parti palesemente erronee (come il secondo libro, ove Vitruvio discorre delle origini dell’architettura “un po’ troppo da brav’uomo”) da quelle in realtà superflue, perché la cognizione dell’antico deve necessariamente basarsi su nozioni più vaste, precise ed esatte, quali sono quelle desunte dal contatto diretto con le fabbriche. I temi in questione vengono approfonditamente ripresi ad inizio anni Trenta da Nicola D’Apuzzo, già in precedenza24 attento agli spunti offerti dalla querelle milanese. Questi dedica un intero e denso capitolo del secondo volume delle sue Considerazioni architettoniche (1831) ad “alcuni dispareri circa il trattato vitruviano di architettura”, citando esplicitamente Landriani e Amato ed evocando indirettamente invece Pietro Valente, accusato di “soprusare della critica”.25 D’Apuzzo ha nel frattempo maturato un’importante esperienza professionale a Pompei ed ha pertanto smesso ormai di cercare corrispondenze esatte e univoche tra le parole del trattato e le rovine rilevate e analizzate. Intende però mantenere una posizione intermedia ragionevole e ortodossa, senza troppo pronunciarsi sulla tesi che vede nella “superstiziosa e illimitata venerazione per Vitruvio” la causa del dilagare “del monotono, del gretto, del rigido”26 nell’architettura contemporanea. Gli preme sottolineare, proprio storicizzando, come dal De Architectura non si possa pretendere altro se non di essere una trattazione “tanto perfetta quanto si potesse, nelle circostanze in cui fu scritta”.27 23 24 25 26 27

Valente (1823), 61. D’Apuzzo (1824). D’Apuzzo (1831), cap. VII. D’Apuzzo (1831), 230. D’Apuzzo (1831), 224.

200

Fabio Mangone

E se risulta controverso stabilire quale possa essere il giusto grado di maturità per accostarsi a Vitruvio e trarne beneficio, non per questo a suo parere i Dieci Libri debbono essere condannati all’oblio, tanto più considerando che alla base della formazione dell’architetto vi sono “la scienza e la pratica, ma anche l’erudizione”. Ma nemmeno l’avvenuto declassamento da summa del sapere architettonico a testo complementare di erudizione risulta soddisfacente per i più accaniti detrattori. D’altronde, proprio il terreno della ‘erudizione’ appare in questi anni particolarmente accidentato e carico di risvolti ideologici; la generazione degli architetti attivi durante la restaurazione borbonica si mostra particolarmente attenta a definire i confini della disciplina. Insistere sulla inscindibile unità di scienza e arte serve a distinguersi per un verso da pittori e scultori – i quali ormai salvo rare eccezioni hanno itinera formativi e carriere piuttosto distinti – e per l’altro dai sempre più invadenti ingegneri di Ponti e strade, usciti dalla Scuola murattiana, ma risulta altresì funzionale alla definitiva emancipazione da tutte le questioni meramente di gusto e di erudizione, dove si rischia di vedere negata la specifica competenza dell’artista scienziato, mettendola alla mercé del giudizio di letterati accademici o di nobili amateurs. Sarà ancora Valente, in prima linea nella rivendicazione di un nuovo status professionale, a sferrare un ultimo decisivo attacco a Vitruvio, con il suo discorso Sullo stato presente delle Teorie di Architettura e della necessità di una instituzione teorica, tenuto nel 1834 e pubblicato nell’anno seguente.28 “Come le lingue pria si parlano, scrivonsi poscia ed in ultimo a regole si assoggettano”, così l’architettura contemporanea, nella sua “estensione maggiore” potrà trovare una propria istituzione teorica solo come formulazione a posteriori. In una valutazione moderna, il principale difetto del trattato romano non risiede tanto nella prospettiva troppo limitata, anche rispetto alla stessa epoca che dovrebbe rappresentare, quanto piuttosto nel fare dell’architettura “un’arte soggetta a regole limitate, costanti, grossolane”, laddove invece essa è “figlia del genio e della riflessione; obbediente in servire i bisogni, pieghevolissima in adattarsi alle circostanze infinite che le località presentano di continuo, e in seguire scrupolosamente ogni uso”, come si vede persino negli edifici classici. Prevale dunque quel relativismo conseguente anche alle nuove e più ampie acquisizioni storiche e geografiche: un contesto nel quale persino la salda tenuta del sistema degli ordini, pur nella graduale transizione da moduli più neogreci a moduli più neoromani e neorinascimentali, si spiega appunto con l’affermazione di un ‘mito italico’ correlato alle nozioni di convenienza riferite alla specificità del luogo e della civiltà. Ai nostri fini risulta soprattutto interessante rilevare l’occasione per un simile attacco: l’inaugurazione della cattedra di Architettura civile, ripristinata 28 Valente (1835).

Da Ercolano a Pompei: declino di Vitruvio nella cultura neoclassica napoletana

201

all’Università di Napoli dopo alterne vicende, e affidata un architetto e intellettuale che si pone in aperta contrapposizione con l’insegnamento di Francesco Saponieri all’Istituto di Belle Arti. Lamentando la mancanza di una aggiornata e completa ‘istituzione teorica’ per la disciplina, alla quale intende egli stesso in futuro sopperire, il nuovo docente passa in rassegna alcuni classici. Vignola tocca solo una minima parte degli argomenti da affrontare, Milizia ancorché superato e troppo censorio può “con la scorta della ragione” aver una pur limitata utilità, Rondelet fornisce valide indicazioni tecniche. Quanto a Vitruvio, sottoposto a una circostanziata e serrata critica, la questione è diversa, e la definitiva negazione della sua efficacia didattica merita una certa ampiezza di argomentazioni, anche per confutare le tesi di quanti “abbacinati da una cieca deferenza e da un rispetto smodato per quanto ci sia pervenuto dagli antichi, hanno esagerato la eccellenza dei principi, la universalità del dettato”, nonché di coloro che “declamano valer questi soli scritti per formar ora abilissimi architetti”. Dimostrare l’inattualità dei dettati vitruviani rispetto alla progettazione contemporanea risulta semplice, e tuttavia insufficiente: bisogna anche smentirne la presunta efficacia ai fini della pratica archeologica, sottolineando che “più passi oscurissimi di Vitruvio son venuti per i monumenti interpretati, che monumenti dilucidati dalle vitruviane scritture”.29 E non mancavano certo esempi recenti in cui erano proprio gli studi sulle città vesuviane a chiarire termini e concetti vitruviani, come mostrava tra l’altro lo scritto di Bechi sul “calcidico”.30 Vale a dire che se nell’avvio dei programmi ercolanensi, all’epoca della traduzione di Galiani, si sperava che i programmi archeologici trovassero un indispensabile ausilio in un De Architectura reso più accessibile, ora in un’epoca già di primi bilanci degli scavi pompeiani, si poteva dire che l’antico divenuto sempre più noto e accessibile non soltanto risultava di fondamentale aiuto nell’esegesi del sommo trattato, ma poteva sopperire alle lacune conoscitive dell’architetto augusteo. “Si renda onore sommo a Marco Vitruvio Pollione, imperciocché ai suoi tempi fu dottissimo e sommo; – decreta Valente – né sia giammai di onta a lui il non esserci i suoi scritti utili del pari come lo furono per l’età in cui scriveva”.31 Così l’affermazione di un metodo necessariamente scientifico per l’insegnamento universitario dell’architettura passa per la negazione della presunta universalità di Vitruvio.

29 Valente (1835), 15. 30 Cfr. G. Bechi 1820. 31 Valente (1835), 19.

202

Fabio Mangone

Bibliografia Amati, Carlo, Apologia di Vitruvio Pollione, Milano 1821. Bechi, Guglielmo, Del calcidico e della cripta di Eumachia scavati nel foro di Pompeja l’anno 1820, Napoli 1820. Bechi, Guglielmo, Del retto uso degli ordini di architettura e dell’abuso che si fa da alcuni moderni dell’ordine dorico, Napoli 1826. Botta, Filippo, Corso teorico-pratico di architettura civile, Napoli 1862. Buccaro, Alfredo, Opere pubbliche e tipologie urbane nel Mezzogiorno preunitario, Napoli 1992. Buccaro, Alfredo/ De Mattia Fausto (Hg.), Scienziati artisti. Formazione e ruolo degli ingegneri nelle fonti dell’Archivio di Stato e della Facoltà di Ingegneria di Napoli, Napoli 2003. Carletti, Niccolò, Istituzioni d’Architettura civile, Napoli 1772. Carrafiello, Tommaso, Berardo Galiani intendente di architettura (1724 – 74), Napoli 1995. Consoli, Gian Paolo, “La critica al De Architettura in Carlo Lodoli e Francesco Milizia. Vitruvio da ‘canone’ a ‘testo’”, in: Vitruvio nella cultura architettonica antica, medievale e moderna, atti del Convegno, hg. v. Gianluigi Ciotta, Genova 2003. D’Apuzzo, Nicola, Alcuni poetici componimenti, Napoli 1823. D’Apuzzo, Nicola, Considerazioni architettoniche, Bd. 1., Napoli 1824. D’Apuzzo, Nicola, Considerazioni architettoniche, Bd. II, Napoli 1831. De Cesare, Francesco, Trattato di architettura civile, Napoli 1827. Galiani, Berardo, L’architettura di M. Vitruvio Pollione colla traduzione italiana e comento del Marchese Berardo Galiani, Accademico Ercolanense e architetto di merito di San Luca, Napoli 1758. Greco, Vincenzo, Frammenti architettonici, Napoli 1847. Mangone, Fabio, Pietro Valente, Napoli 1996. Mangone Fabio, “Il dibattito architettonico a Napoli, dalla seconda restaurazione all’Unità”, in: Civiltà dell’Ottocento. Architettura e Urbanistica, catalogo della mostra, hg. v. G. Alisio, Napoli 1997, 52 – 56. Mangone, Fabio, “Il pensionato napoletano di architettura, 1813 – 1875”; in: Civiltà dell’Ottocento. Architettura e Urbanistica, catalogo della mostra, hg. v. G. Alisio, Napoli 1997, 35 – 44. Mangone, Fabio, “Il Maestro della prisca architettura e il suo scarso credito nella Napoli della restaurazione borbonica”, in Architettura e Arte, aprile-giugno 1998 Mangone, Fabio, Cimiteri napoletani. Storia arte cultura, Napoli 2004. Mangone, Fabio, “Faraoni e borghesi: lo stile egizio nell’architettura ottocentesca, a Napoli e nell’Italia meridionale”, in Egittomania. Iside e il mistero, hg. v. S. De Caro, Milano 2006, 246 – 254. Mangone, Fabio “Ercolano, Pompei, gli sviluppi del neoclassicismo e i percorsi dell’arte ottocentesca”, in: Vesuvio. Il Grand Tour dell’Accademia Ercolanese dal passato al futuro, Arte Tipografica, Napoli 2010, pp. 135 – 143. Milizia, Francesco , Dell’arte di vedere nelle Belle Arti del disegno secondo i principi di Sulzer e Mengs, Venezia 1781. Pagliara, Pier Nicola, “Vitruvio da testo a canone”, in: Memorie dell’antico nell’arte italiana, Bd. III: Dalla tradizione all’archeologia, hg. v. S. Settis, Torino 1986, 5 – 85. Ragucci, Luigi, Principi di pratica di architettura, Napoli 1843.

Da Ercolano a Pompei: declino di Vitruvio nella cultura neoclassica napoletana

203

Risposta all’apologia di Vitruvio Pollione in difesa d’alcune postille sullo stesso soggetto pubblicate nella Biblioteca Italiana, Milano 1822. Ruffo, Vincenzo, Saggio ragionato sull’origine ed essenza dell’architettura civile, Napoli 1789. Stile, Ignazio, I cinque ordini di architettura, Napoli 1824. Valente, Pietro, Dell’essenza e dignità degli architetti e del miglioramento dell’architettura, Napoli 1823. Valente, Pietro, Della instituzione degli architetti e del miglioramento dell’architettura, Napoli 1823. Valente, Pietro, Sullo stato presente delle Teorie di Architettura e della necessità di una instituzione teorica , Napoli 1835. Villari, Sergio “La traduzione di Vitruvio del Marchese Berardo Galiani”, in: Vitruvio nella cultura architettonica antica, medievale e moderna, atti del Convegno, hg. v. Gianluigi Ciotta, Genova 2003.

Index of Names Baldwin, Barry 9 Baratta Alessandro 121 Barbaro, Daniele 133 – 138, 140 – 143, 145 – 147, 150 f., 154, 158 f., 161, 167, 171, 177, 179, 186 Barbaro, Ermolao 141 Barbaro, Marc’Antonio 163 Barbieri, Franco 176, 187 Beatrice of Aragon 108 Bechi, Guglielmo 201 Bellet, Michel-Édouart 22 Beltramini, Maria 106, 109 Bembo, Pietro 146 Berosus of Babylon 165 Bertani, Giambattista 176 Bessarion, Basilios 142 Biondo, Flavio 115, 119 f. Bischoff, Bernhard 3 Blondel, François 150 Blondel, Paul 41 Blunt, Anthony 130 Boccaccio, Giovanni 113, 119 Böker, Robert 6, 8 Bolzoni, Lina 187 Bonfini, Antonio 108 – 110 Boninus Mombritius 108 Borst, Arno 61, 79 Borys, M. Ann 164, 168, 175, 185 f. Botta, Filippo 202 Bouveyroy, Jean 23 – 26 Bracciolini, Poggio 1 Bramante, Donato 195 Brandolini, Aurelio Lippo 109 Bredekamp, Horst, 7, 10 113, 116, 118, 163 Bruno, Giordano 163, 168 Bryaxis 69 f. Buccaro, Alfredo 197 Burchard Jean 127

Bacon, Francis 152 Badi, Alain 21 Baker, Patrick 109 Baldinucci, Filippo 134

Caesar, Augustus 102 Calabi Limentani, Ida 1 Caligula 74 Callippus 51

˘

Ackerman, James S. 85 Aesop 106 Agamben, Giorgio 117, 120 Agrippa, Marcus Vipsanius 72, 75 Alı¯ al-Hasan, Al-Hazen (Alhageno) 179 ˙ Giuseppe 137 Alberigo, Alberti, Leon Battista 2 f., 5, 20, 84 – 89, 91, 95 f., 101, 104, 114 – 116, 118, 137, 139 f., 165 Alberti, Alessandro 179 f. Alcuin of York 3 Alexander the Great 54, 73 Alfonso d’Aragona, duca di Calabria 121 Alfonso II King of Naples, see Alfonso d’Aragona, duca di Calabria Alisio, Giancarlo 121 Amati, Carlo 198 Anaxagoras 57 Anaximander 50 f., 57, 164 Anaxymenes 51 Andreas of Chariste 53 Antipater of Sidon 68 Apion 69 Apollodorus of Damascus 62 Apollonius 61 Appianus 164 Aratus 50, 57 Archimedes 55, 59 f., 63 Aretino, Pietro 85, 96 Argyropulos, John 144 Aristeides Koïntilianos 164 Aristotle 51, 55 f., 74, 101, 103 – 108, 110, 163, 165, 168 Aristoxenus 78 Artemidorus of Ephesus 70 Artemis 54, 68 Asclepiodorus 78 Augustus, see Caesar, Augustus Averlino, Antonio, see Filarete

206

Index of Names

Capponi, Vincenzo 134 Carafa Giovanni, duca di Noja 121, 124, 125, 127 Cardano, Girolamo 114, 120 Caristie, Auguste 35 – 45 Carletti, Niccolò 196 Carrafiello, Tommaso 196 Cassiodorus, Flavius Magnus Aurelius 115 Cassius Dion 62 Castiglione, Baldassare 85, 113 Caye, Pierre 137 Celano Carlo 127 Celer 61, 76 Cetius Faventinus 107 f., 110 Charlemagne 2 Chatelain, Louis 21, 23, 26, 42 – 44 Chersiphron 68, 70, 73, 75 f. Ciapponi, Lucia 5, 79, 113 – 119 Cicero 50, 54 – 56, 59 – 61, 63, 96, 146 Cicognara, Leopoldo 158 Cini, Giovan Battista 178 Claudian 60 Clausewitz, Carl von 7, 16 Cleoneides 5 Codazzi, Viviano 125, 127, 129 Consoli, Gian Paolo 197 Cornaro, Janus (= Simon Haynpol) 167 Corvinus, Johannes 109 Corvinus, Matthias 108 Cranz, Ferdinand Edward 141 Crastonus, Johannes 117 f. Ctesias 68 Curio, Gaius Scribonius 74 – 76, 166

Farnese, Alessandro 4, 141 Ficino, Marsilio 161 Filarete 84, 89, 95, 97, 101, 104 – 110 Filelfo, Francesco 104 – 108, 110 Fleury, Philippe 1, 8, 77 Formigé, Jules 42, 44 Fra’ Giocondo 4 f. Franco, Giacomo 176 Frascari, Marco 163, 165, 178 f., 188 Fréart de Chambray, Roland 150 Frommel Christoph Luitpold 131, 156 Frontinus, Sextus Julius 65, 79

Daedalus 53 Dante Alighieri 106, 113 D’Apuzzo, Nicola 195, 197, 199 De Cesare, Francesco 197 f. De Dondi, Niccolò 187 f. De Fazio, Giuliano 197 De Gasparin, Adrien Etienne Pierre 32, 34 f., 43 De la Pise, Joseph 25 f. de l’Orme Philibert 129, 131 De Piles, Roger 16 De Santillana, Giorgio 52 Della Porta, Giambattista 163 Delminio, Camillo Giulio 188 Democritus 52, 55

Gabriele, Mino 113, 118, 120 Galen 49, 52 f., 78 Galiani, Berardo 196, 201 Galilei, Galileo 163, 168 Galli, Marco 53 Galluzzi, Paolo 56, 58 f. Gargiulo, Domenico (Micco Spadaro) 127, 129 Gasse, Luigi 122, 124 f., 129 Gasse, Stefano 197 Gatti Perer, Maria Luisa 54 Germanicus 50 Ghiberti, Lorenzo 3, 97 Ghisetti Giavarina, Adriano 130 Giuliano da Maiano 121, 127, 130

29 –

Demoteles 69 D’Evelyn, Margaret Muther 2 Di Pasquale, Giovanni 49, 58, 164, 169 Digonnet, Felix 25 Dinochares, also Dinocrates, Deinocrates, Deinokrates and Timochares 54 f., 73, 76, 160 Diodorus Siculus 106 Dolfin, Giacomo 184 f. Dufeu, Constant 35 Durand, Jean Nicolas Louis 196 Elgin, Thomas Bruce 196 Empedocles 51, 57 Engelberg, Meinrad 9 Epicurus 59 Este, Ippolito d’104, 146, 154, 169 Este, Leonello d’ 104 Eudoxus 51, 58 Eumenes the 2nd 9 Euphranor 78

Index of Names

Giuliano da Sangallo 24, 25 Giulio Romano 176 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang v. 186 Gonzaga, Ferrante, duca di Guastalla 176 Gonzaga, Ludovico 104 Gonzaga, Vespasiano, duca di Sabbioneta 177, 179, 180, 186, 187 Greco, Vincenzo 202 Grimani Morosini, Morosina 176 Gros, Pierre 1, 21, 71, 87 Guarini, Battista 185 Guidoni, Enrico 5, 7 Günther, Hubertus 56, 81 Hamberg, Per Gustaf 5 – 7 Harpalos 53 Haselberger, Lothar 9, 78 Heraclides Ponticus 57 Heraclitus 56, 164 Heraclitus of Ephesos 56, 61, 164 Hero of Alexandria 56 Herodianus 164 Herodotus 69, 118 Hersey George L. 11, 130 Hippocrates 6, 9, 167 Hippodamus of Miletos 9 Hoepfner, Wolfram 164, 171 f. Hunyadi, Janos 109 Hypparchus 57 Ingegneri, Angelo 176, 184 f. Isidore of Seville 106 Jannaco, Carmine 160 Janon, Michel 21 Juba 69 Julian of Ascalon 1 Kahn, Charles 51 Kant, Immanuel 139 f., 144, 146 Keller, F. Eugen 131 Kilmer, Val 21 Knell, Heiner 161 Koyré, Alexandre 61 Krautheimer, Richard 3 Kraye, Jill 113, 137 Kruft, Hanno-Walter 2, 161, 180 Kuhn, Christian 52

207

Lagopoulos, Alexandros Ph. 7 f. Lampridio, Elio 164 Lanci, Baldassarre 178 Landriani, Paolo 198 f. Lefèvre d’Etaples, Jacques 145, 154 Legrand, J. Guillaume 40 f. Leibniz, Gottfried Wilhelm 7, 13 – 16 Lenza, Cettina 122, 124 f., 129 Lenzo, Fulvio 131 Leochares 69 f. Leonardo da Vinci 16 Lodoli, Carlo 197 Louis, André 35 Lucanus 54 Lucretius 51, 55, 165 Ludovicus Pius 3 Lysippus 78 Macrobius 165 Maffei, Scipione 30 Maiano, see Giuliano da Maiano Maino, Marzia 176 Malatesta, Sigismondo 104 Mangone, Fabio 195, 197 f. Manilius, 54 Manuzio, Aldo 113, 118, 167 Marconi, Paolo 131 Martini, Francesco di Giorgio 6, 84 Massé, Raphaël 29, 31, 34 Mauro, Silvester 121, 131, 139 f., 144 Mazzoni, Stefano 177, 179, 185 – 188 McEwen Kagis, Indra 1, 160 Medici, Piero de’ 101, 105 Mérimée, Prosper 23, 33 f., 38, 43 Mesphres 76 Metagenes 70 Michiel, Marcantonio 6, 121, 175 Milizia, Francesco 175, 197 f., 201 Millette, M. Daniel 19 f. Millin, Aubin-Louis 26 – 32, 34 f., 40 Milner, Peter 22 Mirsilo Lesbio 165 Mocenigo, Zuane (Giovanni) 163 Modesti Paola 130, 131 Mondolfo, Rodolfo 50 Monnier, François 26 Montefeltro, Federico da 104 Monteverdi, Claudio 176 Moretti, Jean Charles 21 Morresi, Manuela 136

208 Mucianus, Gaius Licinius Myron 78

Index of Names

69, 71

Nero 61, 74, 76 Nicophanes 77 Nova, Alessandro 160 f. Novius Facundus 76 Octavian Augustus see Caesar, Augustus Oechslin, Werner 113, 133, 135 f., 139, 146, 148 – 152, 160 f., 165 Olivato, Loredana 188 Onians, John 90, 106 Ovid 106 Paeonius 54 Pagliara, Pier Nicola 86, 98, 195, 202 Palladio, Andrea 133, 136, 139, 147 – 154, 167, 176, 185, 195, 197 Palladius 65 Pane, Giulio 125, 127, 130 Pane, Roberto 121, 125, 130 Panofsky, Erwin 175 Pâris Pierre-Adrien 122 124, 126, 127, 129, 131 Parrhasius 77 f. Pasi, Marcantonio 176, 184 Francesco Patrizi, bishop of Gaeta 3, 4 Francesco Patrizi da Cherso 187 Pausanias 164 Périons, Jacques 141 Perrault, Claude 41, 196 f. Peruzzi, Baldassarre 125, 127 f., 171, 177 f., 180 Petrarca 113 Pevsner, Nicholas 105 Phidias 76, 144 Philo of Byzantium 53 Philolaos 53 Phoenix, architect 76 Pythagoras 50, 53, 55, 78, 164, 165, 167, 169 Pico della Mirandola, Giovanni 154 Pigafetta, Filippo 184 f. Plato 50 f., 55 f., 58, 78, 106, 135, 160 f. Plautus 106, 177 Pliny the Elder 21, 65, 73, 78, 106 f., 115 Plommer, Hugh 7, 108

Plutarch 106, 164 Poisson, Olivier 25 Poliziano, Angelo 5 Pollitt, Jerome Jordan 53 Pollux Julius 164 Polyclitus (Polycleitus) 52 f. Pompei, Alessandro 149 f., 195, 199 Pontano, Gioviano 6 Posidonius Rhodius 54, 59, 60, 164 Poulle, Bruno 188 Pozzi, Giovanni 113 f. Pozzo, Riccardo 137 Praxiteles 70 Price de Solla, Derek John 60 Prodromus, Teodorus 113 Prudentius, Aurelius 113 Pseudo-Aristotle 49 Pseudo-Kallisthenes 8 Puppi, Lionello 187 Pythagoras 50, 53, 55, 78 Pythis, also Pytheos 69 f., 142 f., 146, 147, 149, 163 f. Quinterio, Francesco 127 Quintilian 107, 134 Ra, Egyptian god 76 Ragucci, Luigi 198 Raven, John Earle 53 Renaux, Pierre 31 – 36, 43 Rhoecus 76 Rigord, Agis 21 Risse, Wilhelm 137 Robin, Diana 105 f. Rogniat, Louis 41 Romano, Elisa 1, 55, 62 Rondelet, Jean Baptiste 201 Rosso, Emmanuelle 21 Rovetta, Alessandro 54 Ruffo, Vincenzo 196 Saint-Saëns, Camille 42 Sanmicheli, Michele 150 Santacroce, Paolo 196 Santinello, Giovanni 137 f., 148 Saponieri, Francesco 201 Satyrus 70, 76 Say, Jean Baptiste 197 Scamozzi, Gian Domenico 163

209

Index of Names

Scamozzi, Vincenzo 157 – 161, 163 – 165, 167 – 169, 171, 173 – 180, 182 – 188 Scaurus, Marcus Aemilius 74 f. Schinkel, Karl Friedrich 135 Scopas 69 f. Sear, Frank Bowman 21, 29 Sedley, David N. 59 Seneca 54 Serlio, Sebastiano 5, 86, 96, 121 – 123, 125, 130, 160, 163, 177, 179 f., 186 Seroux d’Agincourt, Jean Baptiste Louis Georges 122 Serres, Michel 7, 14 Servius 65, 107 Sforza, Francesco 101, 104 – 108 Shank, Michel H. 51 Sidonius Apollinaris 65, 107 Smith, Adam 197 Sostratus of Cnidus 76 Spencer, John 101, 104 Statius 106 Stile, Ignazio 89, 198 Strabo 21, 29 Suetonius 106 Summonte, Pietro 6, 174 Tacitus 69, 76 Tasso, Torquato 176, 182 Temanza, Tommaso 182, 186 Theophrastus of Eresos 69, 167 Timaeus 51 Timotheus 69 f. Titus 65 Tolentino, Francesco da, see Filelfo

Trajan 62, 110 Trogus Pompeius Urania

164

58

Valente, Pietro 197 – 201 Valerius of Ostia 76 Valla, Giorgio 5 Varro, Marcus Terentius 24, 69, 74 Vasoli, Cesare 138 Vergilius, 89 Vespasian 65, 69, 71, 75 Viollet-le-Duc, Eugène 45 Visconti, Filippo Maria 105 Visone, Massimo 131 Vitellio 179 Vitet, Ludovic 33, 38 – 41, 44 Vitruvius 1 – 5, 7 – 9, 19 f., 22, 25, 28 f., 32 f., 35 f., 38 – 41, 44 – 46, 49 – 57, 59, 61 – 63, 65 – 79, 84, 101 – 104, 106 – 108, 110, 114 – 116, 118, 131, 157 – 161, 163 – 165, 167 f., 173, 175 f., 179 f., 188 Weinzierl, Stefan 166, 180, 182 f., 185 Wesenberg, Burkhard 161 Wittkower, Rudolf 102 Woods, Lebbeus 101 Wright, Maureen Rosemary 60 Yates, Frances

163, 188

Zabarella, Giacomo 137 f. Zabarella, Jacopo 138 Zeno, Caterino 171 Zmilis 76

Subject Index Aachen 3 Alexandria 8 f., 49, 53 – 55, 73, 75, 77, 160 Antikythera 60 Arles (theatres) 22, 44 Asia Minor 43, 70 Aspendos (theatre) 43 Athens (theatres) 16, 29 Athos, Mountain 54 Babylon, Walls of Bononia 9 Britain 60 Buda 108

68

Lake Moeris 68, 74 Lemnian labyrinth 74 Lucania 174 Lycia 69

Naples 121 f., 124, 127, 131, 163, 169, 196 – 198, 201 – Royal Institute of Fine Arts (Real Accademia di Belle Arti) 167

29, 133

Egypt 53, 55, 118 Elea 174 Ephesus 54, 67 f., 70, 73, 75 f. – Temple of Diana 54 Etruscan labyrinth 68, 76 Ferrara 104, 176, 181, 187 f. Florence 131 ff – Baptisterium 91, 93, 95 – Ospedale degli Innocenti 83, 94 – San Lorenzo 83, 94 – San Lorenzo, Sacrestia Vecchia 92 f. Forum of Augustus 75 Fucinus (Fucine Lake) 74 Golden House (Domus Aurea) Greece 19, 71

Kyme see Cumae Kyrene 9

Mainz 58 Mantua 104, 176, 185 Maroneia (Greece) 171, 173 Milan 108 Misenum 1

Campania 6, 163 Circus Maximus 72 Cnidus 68 Cumae 174 Delos (theatre)

Herculaneum 36 Hermopolis 53 Hierapolis 53 Hungary 108 f.

76

Halicarnassus, Mausoleum of Mausolos 68 f., 76, 115 Hanging Gardens – Babylon 68 Heliopolis 76

Olympia, Statue of Olympian Zeus Orange 20 – 31, 33 – 45 – museum 25 f., 34 f., 37 – theatre 19 – 74 Ostia 174

68

Padua 137, 141, 163, 167, 170, 187, 189 Palmanova 160, 163 Pannonia 110 Paris 4 f., 23, 26 f., 34 f., 57 f., 167 Paris, Kugel Collection 57 f. Pergamon 9 Pharos – island, Alexandria 68, 71 Phrygia 53 Plusiapolis 104, 106 Pompeii 44, 56, 58 Priene 9, 163 Pyramids (Giza) 68

212

Subject Index

Ray (Iran) 76, 107, 169 Rhodes 59 f. – Colossus 68 Rimini 104 Rome 3 f., 7, 19, 21 f., 28, 35, 43, 49, 63, 65 f., 68 f., 71 f., 74 – 76, 79, 102, 109, 115, 124, 131, 139, 144, 160, 163, 167, 169 – 172, 175, 179, 195, 199 – Ballot Office of Agrippa 172 – Thermes of Diocletian 86 – Constantine’s Arch 85 – Obelisk in Campus Martius 68, 77 – Pantheon 71, 87, 90, 93 – Golden House 76 – Theatre of Marcus Scaurus 74 f. Ruscino (France, today: Roussillon) 172 Sabbioneta 160, 163, 168, 171, 176 – 188 – Piazza Ducale 186 – Teatro Olimpico 176 – 189 Sankt Gallen / Saint Gall , 1, 157 Scythia 60, 165 Sforzinda 101, 104 f. Solfatara 163

Sparta (theatre ) 29 Syracuse (theatre) 29, 59 Syria 69 Temple at Cyzicus 76 Temple of Diana Ephesina 67 Thebes (Egypt) 68 Tivoli 169 Tropaeum Traiani 174 Urbino

104

Velia see Elea Venice 127 – 131, 135, 147, 150, 159, 167, 188 Vesuvius 65 Vicenza 166, 175 f., 179 – 185, 187 – Accad. Olimpica 176 f. – Teatro Olimpico 166, 176, 184, 186 f. Wonders of World, or Seven Wonders, septem spectacula 68 – 70 York

3