Fictions of the Pose: Rembrandt Against the Italian Renaissance 9781503617438

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FICTIONS OF THE POSE

HARRY BERGER, JR.

FICTIONS OF THE POSE Rembrandt Against the Italian Renaissance

STANFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

STANFORD, CALIFORNIA 2000

FRONTISPIECE

Rembrandt Workshop (?),Half-Length Figure of Rembrandt, ca. 1638. Oil on wood. Private Collection. Stanford University Press

Stanford, California

© zooo by the Board of Trustees of the Leland Stanford Junior University Printed in the United States of America CIP

data appear at the end of the book

Book jacket and interior design by Janet Wood Typeset by James P. Brommer in u!Is Bembo

For Beth Pittenger

I

Acknowledgments

I'm surprised this book got finished. I'm even more surprised to see it published. I wasn't trained as an art historian and don't consider myself one. In the fall of 1958 I returned frustrated to New Haven after spending six months of a sabbatical leave in Florence: frustrated because I had wasted most of my time-when I wasn't driving my children to the Cascine pool or walking blank-eyed around the city streets eating Alemanni ice cream bars-writing notes for a study of Edmund Spenser's poetry, and as a result I never bothered to think hard about or even look hard at everything there I could have seen or thought about. My timing was bad, my planning was dumb, and that particular Spenser book never got written. Back in New Haven I began to miss both Florence and what I had missed in Florence. Partly to cure nostalgia, partly to apologize to myself, I audited some classes in Renaissance art history offered by Charles Seymour, Jr., and Helmut Wohl. For two or three weeks I just stared mistily at images of the old familiar places. And then I got hooked. I began to take copious notes-I still have and occasionally consult the notebooksand to look hard at pictures of the originals I had missed. Pretty soon I stopped apologizing to myself. Like Uccello (as reported by Vasari), I fell in love with and stayed up nights and thought about and, in short, started a romance with-of all things-the theory and practice of perspective. That was probably because it is in some ways easier to look and think about perspective in the confined academic world of reproductions and diagrams and comparative analysis made possible by the convenience of adjacent images on a wall, a convenience that depends on seeing things

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ACKNOWT"EDGMENTS

out of scale and all the same size within the kind of square and imaginary space perspective theorists wrote about. Although I still feel a strong residual attachment to that cloistered culture and to the lantern magic that opens up the wall or screen to disclose the virtual vistas buried within it, my interest was diverted long ago from transparencies to opacities: during the I 970s it shifted to Vermeer's opacities of meaning, and during the 1980s to Rembrandt's opacities of paint. What finally emerges in the form of this book are thus the meanderings and musings of some forty years of longing, the impossible longing to transform into words images that strike me dumb. During the years in which I was struggling toward some understanding of the issues engaged in this book, a few friends helped me with criticisms, suggestions, and encouragement at crucial moments, making it possible for me to go on. I'm deeply grateful to Mary Price, whose quiet but steady and bracing impatience with my early flights of nonsense many years ago-in 1976-gave me a new start, and to Svetlana Alpers and Beth Pittenger for ideas and criticism that helped damp more recent flights of nonsense. Svetlana's work introduced me to Rembrandt studies and oriented my own responses, but my debt goes far beyond the work. Without her spirited generosity, her unstinting frankness and encouragement, and the example of her combined passion and integrity, I could never have taken my first baby steps toward this project. Beth was by my side during the late 1980s and early 1990s, when the project began to take shape. The four months we spent in Florence in 1989, along with our brief visits to Amsterdam in 1989 and 1991, were crucial to its formation. There are traces of her suggestions, her insights, her interpretations, throughout the book, traces also of her cool, witty, firm, and loving resistance. She saw things I didn't see and tempered my sense of what I saw. Many of the ideas and interpretations that ultimately came together in and as this book were developed in conversation with undergraduates in courses in Italian painting and Rembrandt I taught at the University of California, Santa Cruz, from the early 1970s through the middle 1990s. Twice during that period I co-taught a seminar in the literature and anthropology of the ancient world with my colleague Richard Randolph, of the anthropology department. Our experience teaching and thinking about Tacitus's Germania almost twenty years ago planted the seed that eventually grew into the thesis of this book, Rembrandt against the Italian

Renaissance. Richard may or may not recognize his contribution in much

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

of the bizarre exfoliation that follows, but he is likely to discern it pretty clearly in my discussion of Tacitus in Chapter 21. On two occasions I had the pleasure of collaborating with colleagues in art history: a seminar in portraiture with Donna Hunter in 1996 and a seminar in Renaissance art and literature with Catherine Soussloff in 1992. These were not only enjoyable and instructive experiences in themselves, but they also forced me to think harder about-and to clarify-concepts and interpretations that found their way into the book. I'm additionally grateful to Professor Soussloff for her careful commentary on an earlier version of the Introduction. During the last five years or so, my thinking about some of the issues raised in the book-especially those considered in Chapters 3 through 9-has benefited from the challenging scrutiny of several graduate students in our literature program. I thank Robin Baldridge, Kristen Brookes, Scott Davis, Valerie Forman, and Catherine Newman for their consistently helpful, critical, and perceptive responses to this material. With the deepest pleasure and the fondest memories, I now turn to thank the participants of the Folger Summer Seminar I directed in 1994. I retired in June of that year, and the day after I taught my last class as an active faculty member I flew to Washington and began a new life under the reanimating influence of the following sixteen breaths of fresh air: David Baker, Ellen Caldwell, John Cunningham-Crowther, Alexander Dunlop, Graham Hammill, Joan Hartman, Katie King, Laura Levine, Pam Long, Terry Murphy, Dora Polachek, Michael Shea, Steve Shelburne, Mark Sherman, Bette Talvacchia, and Lawrence Wheeler. I shall never forget the enthusiasm, intelligence, skepticism, rigor, good humor, and (occasionally) amusement with which they tolerated and improved on the ravings of a self-confessed amateur in the field of art history. We spent a considerable amount of our time together learning how to talk and write about portraits, and it was one of the great and joyous experiences of my life. I also want to thank those members of the Folger Institute who made it possible-Lena Cowen Odin, Barbara Mowat, Kathleen Lynch, Carol Brobeck, and Rebecca Willson-and the four visiting lecturers whose stimulating presentations and discussions greatly enhanced the value of the seminar-David Lee Miller, Margreta de Grazia, Margaret Carroll, and Elizabeth Bellamy. In recent years a host of friends and students have helped me with later stages of the book. I'm particularly grateful to three good friends who have shown me by their example how it is possible to fuse the discipline

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of responsible scholarship and critical rigor with the fire of imagination: Margreta de Grazia, Tyrus Miller, and Judith Anderson. I thank my stars that they're in the profession. Their example is always before me as an ideal for all those who, like myself, need to be encouraged to do more and better than we do. In addition, the detailed, challenging, and stimulating commentaries on drafts of the manuscript by Professors de Grazia and Miller have been invaluable to me. Over the years I've also profited much from discussions with or the comments of many other friends and colleagues: Leonard Barkan, Geoffrey Batchen, Michael Baxandall, Stephen Campbell, Margaret Carroll, Linda Charnes,Janina Darling, Lynn Enterline, Angus Fletcher, Catherine Greenblatt, Stephen Greenblatt, Catherine Gimelli-Martin, Thomas M. Greene, Graham Hammill, Timothy Hampton, Richard Helgerson, Elizabeth Honig, Donna Hunter, Virginia Jansen, Elinor Windsor Leach, Marsh Leicester, Diane Manning, Richard Martin, David Lee Miller, Louis Montrose, Sheldon Nodelman, Stephen Orgel, Gordon Osing, Patricia Parker, Seth Schein, Edward Snow, Catherine Soussloff, Deanna Shemek, Don Wayne, and Sarah Whittier. Though I mention it in the text (see notes 9 and

12

of the Introduc-

tion), I would like to acknowledge briefly here the importance to my project of the three Rembrandt studies on which I've relied most heavily: Svetlana Alpers, Rembrandt's Enterprise; H. Perry Chapman, Rembrandt's

Self-Portraits; and Gary Schwartz, Rembrandt, His Life, His Paintings. The nature of the debt is not simple, however, and in today's critical climate it isn't even simple to describe. To say that it includes the opportunity to disagree with and make adjustments in certain aspects of their readings of Rembrandt that I can't fully accept-to say this is to invite the charge that so courtly a way of phrasing an introduction to the critic's favorite pastime, trashing precursors, is snide at best. And indeed this charge may be partially substantiated by my hostile treatment of another critic in Chapter 12. Although I offer no apology for the treatment, I think the charge reflects simplistic assumptions about critical encounters. It reflects, for example, the assumptions that such encounters should be zero-sum and two-dimensional affairs dominated by agon and epideixis, that they should either be a central form of action in the polemical genres classified as theory or else be relegated to footnotes in more workaday jobs of interpretation, and that footnotes are the appropriate environment-cramped, marginal, of modest nine-point stature, in a word, adequate-for listing credits, briefly thanking creditors, and compactly (if less briefly) dismiss-

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ing competitors. Conventions of this sort make it harder for those working in interpretive genres to do in public what most of them do in their preparatory negotiations: map the traces of the continuous exercises in triangulation that involve critics in often complex journeys as they circulate back and forth between "secondary" and "primary" works. This whole negotiatory process constitutes the proper sphere within which to define indebtedness and express gratitude, and to do so with no implication of irony. My reading of Rembrandt portraits did not emerge from long sessions of mute and rapt gazing at the objects of desire. It was mediated by my encounters chiefly with the work of Alpers, Chapman, and Schwartz. I thank them for that. I have greatly benefited from and enjoyed disagreeing with the impressively detailed, scrupulous, controversial, and monumental reassessment of Rembrandt's paintings in J. Bruyn, B. Haak, S. H. Levie, P. ]. J. van Thiel, and E. van de Wetering, A Corpus if Rembrandt Paintings, trans. D. CookRadmore, five volumes (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1982-). I consulted and comment on entries in the first three volumes. Volume I appeared in 1982, Volume 2 in 1986, Volume 3 in 1990. Since this work is the product of the Rembrandt Research Project, it will be cited in future references as RRP. And since the RRP can be thought of both as a group of individuals and as a collective project, my references to them/it will be singular on some occasions and plural on others, depending on the needs of particular grammatical contexts. During the final and most onerous stage of preparation, the securing of permissions and reproductions, several scholars and curators went out of their way to help me locate paintings that were in private collections or whose whereabouts were unknown. For their generosity, patience, and helpfulness in this matter, I wish to thank Lideke Peese Brinkhorst and Michiel Franken of the RRP, Simon Taylor of Art Resource, Cynthia Altman, Barbara Thompson of the Witt Library in the Courtauld Institute of Art, Sophie Seebohm of the Bridgman Art Gallery in London, and Quentin Buvelot, Curator of the Koninklijk Kabinet van Schilderij en in The Hague. An earlier draft of Chapters

I

and

I8

and an essay subsequently ex-

panded into Chapters 4 through 9 were published in Representations, the first two as "The System of Early Modern Painting," Representations 62 (Spring 1998): 3 I-57, and the third as "Fictions of the Pose: Facing the Gaze in Early Modern Portraiture," Representations 46 (Spring I994): 87-

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119. I'm grateful to the editors and readers of the journal for their criti-

cism and support. Versions of the latter essay were delivered before audiences at: Stanford University; the Marcus W. Orr Center for the Humanities at Memphis State University; the University of California, San Diego; Indiana University; and the Folger Institute. Versions of Part 3 were delivered in lecture form for occasions sponsored by the Committee for Lectures and Colloquia of the Literature Department of the University of California at Santa Cruz and by the Program for Early Modern Studies in October and December 1997, and at Notre Dame University in April 1998. I'm very grateful to members of these audiences for suggestions and criticisms that helped me with my revisions. Thanks also to Professor Kay Easson, Director of the Marcus W. Orr Center, to Professor Lena Cowen Odin, former Executive Director of the Folger Institute, and to her staff-especially to Kathleen Lynch, the present Executive Director, and Carol Brobeck-and to Professor Lois Potter, for courtesy, interest, and support that made the lectures I gave under their auspices a pleasurable and instructive occasion. I feel strangely compelled to acknowledge a failure or inability properly to engage with the work of a critic I deeply respect: Mieke Bal's Reading "Rembrandt." This is a bold and compelling experiment in the semiotic approach to visual art, but with different agendas from mine, agendas that lead Bal too often-for my taste-to use her interpretations of paintings to exemplifY themes and issues at a different level of interpretation. I've found Bal to be a wonderful presence on the critical scene: generous, constructive, and positive in her reviews and critiques of others, courageous in her willingness to experiment. Certainly neither she nor her contribution to visual semiotics is deserving of the dismissive tone some art historians take toward her work, and this in part causes me to be disappointed by my own failure to address some of the important issues Reading "Rembrandt" raises. It's with pleasure and gratitude that I thank Marianna Alves and Lisa Leslie, of the Cowell College Steno Pool, for all the support, moral as well as stenographic, they've given me in recent years. I appreciate, tor example, the patience with which they repeatedly had to teach an aging technophobe how to do simple tasks like sending faxes, and I want them to know that I detected the amusement, the humiliating alacrity, with which they often finished the jobs I had walked stoop-shouldered away from after fumbling. For the second time in two years, it gives me pleasure to acknowledge

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

the help and support I have received from the Committee on Research of the University of California at Santa Cruz and from the staff of the campus Word Processing Center, especially Cheryl Van De Veer, its supervisor, and Zoe Sodja. I thank Cheryl and Zoe not only for indispensable help in floppifying some thirty years of typescript, but also for the wonderfully cooperative spirit and careful attention that have made the Center an invaluable resource for so many members of our campus community. During those thirty years all the typescripts were prepared by Charlotte Cassidy, whose skill and devotion produced the fairest copy in the world. I also wish to thank the Millard Meiss Publication Fund Committee of the College Art Association for its award of a generous subsidy that enabled the author and the Stanford University Press to achieve a higher level of quality in production than would otherwise have been possible. Also for the second time in two years, I'm delighted to acknowledge how important Helen Tartar's sustained and active support has been to the completion of this project. Helen encouraged me to submit the manuscript to the Stanford University Press when I had just about given up on it; she oversaw its production as Humanities Editor of the Press; and as copy editor she suggested an embarrassingly large number of revisionsmajor and minor, technical and conceptual-that substantially strengthened both the style of the book and its argument. Without her supervision, without her participation at every level and phase of production,

Fictions cif the Pose would never have gotten off the ground. In addition, I want to thank the Stanford Press reader of the manuscript for his/her encouraging report and helpful suggestions for improvement. And finally, my gratitude to Dr. Kasey Hicks, who agreed to prepare the indexes on short notice and went on to do a wonderful job, at once analytically rigorous and cross-referentially imaginative. I reserve my deepest thanks for the last. During the final stages of writing and the preparation of the manuscript, Sarah Whittier was a constant source of encouragement, support, constructive criticism, and interpretive suggestions. In addition to these vital if relatively intangible gifts of companionship, she volunteered to perform an immensely tangible, not to say tedious and terrifying, task, one that had to be done and that no one elseincluding me-was capable of doing: the monstrous task of securing permissions and acquiring reproductions for over eighty illustrations. Confronting the chaos of this difficult, maddening, and in itself unrewarding job, which took the better part of seven months, she organized the files,

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mastered the idiosyncratic modi operandi of more than forty museums and collections, took responsibility for every phase of an endless correspondence, and with marvelous efficiency turned a tangled nightmare into a gallery. But her contribution didn't stop there. Sarah patiently read and discussed with me drafts of the last section I wrote, the chapters on Dutch art in Part 3, and in return I gladly stole and used several of her stimulating suggestions about particular portraits, suggestions we plan to develop in a collaborative study of seventeenth-century Dutch group portraits. Still, I happily admit that something else was more important to me if a little less labor intensive: her companionship in a difficult time, and the loving care with which she grew our garden and waters the flowers.

Contents

Illustrations

XVII

Introduction PART

ONE

Early Modern Technologies and Politics of Representation and Their Consequences r. Technologies: The System of Early Modern Painting

35

Politics: The Apparatus of Commissioned Portraiture

77

2.

3. Consequences: Sprezzatura and the Anxiety of Self-Representation 95 PART

TWO

Facing the Gaze 4· The Face as Index of the Mind: Art Historians and the Physiognomic Fallacy 107 5· Physiognomy, Mimetic Idealism, and Social Change

I

19

6. Elias on Physiognomic Skepticism: Homo Clausus and the Anxiety of Representation 13 7 7· Lacan on the Narcissism of Orthopsychic Desire

155

8. Fictions of the Pose (1): The Fiction of Objectivity 9. Fictions of the Pose (2): Representing Orthopsychic Desire 197

171

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CONTENTS

PART

THREE

The Embarrassment of Poses: On Dutch Portraiture IO.

Local Matters

I I.

The Posography of Embarrassment: Representational Strategies in a Decentralized Class Society 265

233

I2. Methodological Interlude I: Toward Group Portraiture

3 I9

I3. Rembrandt's Embarrassment: An Anatomy of Group Portraiture 329

PART

FOUR

Rembrandt's Looking-Glass Theater I4. Methodological Interlude II: On Self-Portraits I

35I

5. Good Boys and Bad: Orthopsychic Comedy in the Early Self-Portraits 359

16. Marking Time: Revisionary Allusion in Specular Fictions I

7. Rembrandt as Burgher: Waiting for Maerten Soolmans

I8. Methodological Interlude III: Texture Versus Facture I9. Specular Fictions in Two Etchings

377

38 3 389

395

20. Married, with Peacock: Saskia in Rembrandt's Looking-Glass Theater 405 21.

Methodological Interlude IV: On Revisionary AllusionRembrandt Against the Italian Renaissance 427

22.

Rembrandt as Courtier

463

23. Rembrandt in Chains: The Medici Self-Portrait 24. Rembrandt in Venice: The Patriarch 25. (Ef)facing the Hand

497

26. The Last Laugh; or, Something More

Notes

515

Index of Plates and Figures Subject Index

6I5

Names Index

619

479

6II

505

475

Illustrations

Frontispiece. Rembrandt Workshop (?),Half-Length Figure cif Rembrandt, ca. I638. Oil on wood. Private Collection.

Plates (FOLLOWING PAGE 200) I.

2. 3·

4· 5. 6. 7· 8.

Agnolo Bronzino, Eleonora cif Toledo and Son, I 546. Oil on wood. Scala/Art Resource, New York. Uffizi, Florence, Italy. Agnolo Bronzino, Portrait of Laura Battiferri, I 560. Oil on wood. Coll. Loeser, n. I7, Conservato nel Mezzanino di Palazzo Vecchio, Florence. Agnolo Bronzino, Ugolino Martelli, I535-36. Oil on wood. Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Gemaldegalerie, Berlin. Photo credit: Jorg P. Anders, Berlin. Titian, Portrait cifFrancesco Maria della Rovere, I536-38. Oil on canvas. Erich Lessing I Art Resource, New York. Uffizi, Florence, Italy. Lorenzo Lotto, Portrait cif a Man Bifore a White Curtain, ca. I506. Oil on wood. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna. Lorenzo Lotto, Man with a Golden Paw, ca. I526-27. Oil on canvas. Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna. Lorenzo Lotto, Portrait cif a Man, ca. I535· Oil on canvas. Archivio Fotografico Soprintendenza Beni Artistici e Storici di Roma. Lorenzo Lotto, Portrait cif Andrea Odoni, I527. Oil on canvas. The Royal Collection, © Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. (FOLLOWING PAGE 272)

9.

Michie! Jansz van Mierevelt, Prince Maurice cif Orange, Stadholder, ca. I 62 5. Oil on wood. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

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ILLUSTRATIONS

10.

I I. I2. I3. I4. 15. I6.

Frans Hals, Portrait ifWillem van Heythuyzen, c.I625. Oil on canvas. Alte Pinakothek Miinchen. Kunstdia-Archiv ARTOTHEK, D-Peissenberg. Cornelis van der Voort, Portrait if Laurens Reael, ca. I 620. Oil on canvas. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. Rembrandt, Portrait if Maerten Soolmans, I634. Oil on canvas. Private Collection. Thomas de Keyser, Ensign Loif Vrederixc, I626. Oil on wood. Photograph © Mauritshuis, The Hague, inventory nr. 8o6. Frans Hals, The Laughing Cavalier, 1624. Oil on canvas. Reproduced by permission of the Trustees of the Wallace Collection, London. Rembrandt, Portrait ifjan Six, I654. Oil on canvas. Collection Six, Amsterdam. Rembrandt, The Standard Bearer (Floris Soop), I654. Oil on canvas. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Jules Bache Collection, I949 (49-7-35). Photograph by Malcolm Varon. Photograph© 1996 The Metropolitan Museum of Art. (FOLLOWING PAGE 336)

I7. I8. I9.

20. 21. 22. 23. 24.

Rembrandt, Anatomy Lesson if Dr. Tulp, I6J2. Oil on canvas. Photograph© Mauritshuis, The Hague, inventory nr. 146. Albrecht Diirer, Self-Portrait, I500. Oil on wood. Alte Pinakothek Miinchen. Kunstdia-Archiv ARTOTHEK, D-Peissenberg. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait in Oriental Costume, 1631. Oil on wood. Ville de Paris, Musee du Petit Palais. © Phototheque: Musees de la Ville de Paris. Carlo Dolci, Self-Portrait, I674. Oil on canvas. Scala/Art Resource, New York. Uffizi, Florence, Italy. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait with a Hat and a Gold Chain, I633. Oil on wood. Musee du Louvre, Paris. © Photo RMN-Jean Schormans. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait, Bare-Headed, I633. Oil on wood. Musee du Louvre, Paris.© Photo RMN-Jean Schormans. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait, I6p. Oil on wood. Glasgow Museums: The Burrell Collection. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait with Saskia, 1635-36. Oil on canvas. Gemaldegalerie Alte Meister, Dresden. (FOLLOWING PAGE 464)

25.

26.

Rembrandt,Juno, I662-65. Oil on canvas. The Armand Hammer Collection, UCLA, at the Armand Hammer Museum of Art and Cultural Center, Los Angeles. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait at the Age if Thirty-Four, I640. Oil on canvas. National Gallery, London.

ILLUSTRATIONS

27. 28. 29. 30. 3 I. 32.

Titian, Portrait of a Man ("Ariosto"), ca. I5I2. Oil on canvas. National Gallery, London. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait as an Old Man, ca. I665. Oil on canvas. Scala/Art Resource, New York. Uffizi, Florence, Italy. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait, I658. Oil on canvas. ©The Frick Collection, New York. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait as Painter, I66os. Oil on canvas. English Heritage Photographic Library, London. Rembrandt, Rembrandt as an Old Man at His Easel, I 66o. Oil on canvas. Musee du Louvre, Paris.© Photo RMN-Jean Schormans. Rembrandt, Self-Portrait as Democritus, ca. I669. Oil on canvas. Proprietor: Wallraf-Richartz-Museums, Cologne. Source of Image: Rheinisches Bildarchiv, Cologne.

Figures I.

2. 3. 45· 6.

7.

8.

9.

ro. I r.

Andrea Mantegna, Cardinal Ludovico Trevisan, ca. I469. Tempera on wood. Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Preussischer Kulturbesitz, Gemaldegalerie, Berlin. Photo credit: Jorg PAnders, Berlin. I I2 Artist unknown, Bust cf Nero, Roman, first century. Musee du Louvre, Paris,© Photo RMN-Chuzeville. I I3 Leonardo da Vinci, Five Grotesque Heads. Pen and ink. The Royal Collection© Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. I76 Leonardo da Vinci, Profile cf a Warrior with Helmet and Cuirass. Silverpoint on prepared paper. © The British Museum, London. I 77 Leonardo da Vinci, Mona Lisa, I503. Oil on wood. Musee du Louvre, Paris,© Photo RMN-R. G. Ojeda. I8o Agnolo Bronzino, Portrait cf Lucrezia Panciatichi, ca. I 540. Oil on wood. Alinari I Art Resource, New York. Uffizi, Florence, Italy. I85 Florentine, fifteenth century, Matteo Olivieri. Tempera on wood, transferred to canvas. Andrew W Mellon Collection, Photograph © I998 Board of Trustees, National Gallery of Art, Washington. I 87 Veneziano (?),Profile Portrait cf Michele Olivieri(?). Tempera on wood. Private Collection. Photo: Witt Library, Courtauld Institute, London. I87 Florence, fifteenth century, Profile Portrait cf a Young Man. Tempera on wood. Andrew W Mellon Collection, photograph© I998 Board of Trustees, National Gallery of Art, Washington. I 87 Paolo Uccello (?), Prcifile Portrait cf a Young Man. Tempera on wood. Musee des Beaux-Arts, Chambery. I87 Domenico Ghirlandaio, Portrait cf Giovanna Tornabuoni, 1488. Mixed media on wood.© Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza, Madrid. I90

XIX

XX

ILLUSTRATIONS

12. I 3.

I4. I5.

16. I 7. I8. I9. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29.

30. 3 I.

Alesso Baldovinetti, Portrait