Leon Battista Alberti: On Painting: A New Translation and Critical Edition 1107000629, 9781107000629

Citation preview

Leon Battista Alberti: On Painting A New Translation and Critical Edition Leon Battista Alberti was one of the most important humanist scholars of the Italian Renaissance. Active in mid-fifteenth-century Florence, he was an architect, a theorist, and the author of texts on perspective and painting. Alberti’s On Painting is a cardinal work that revolutionized Western art. In this volume, Rocco Sinisgalli presents a new English translation and critical examination of Alberti’s seminal text. Dr. Sinisgalli reverses the received understanding of the relationship between the Italian and Latin versions of Alberti’s treatise by demonstrating that Alberti wrote On Painting first in Italian and then translated it into a polished Latin over the course of several decades. This volume is richly illustrated to help demonstrate how Alberti understood optics and art. Rocco Sinisgalli is Professor of Sciences of Representation in Art and Architecture at the Sapienza University of Rome. He is the author of more than twenty books, including A History of the Perspective Scene from the Renaissance to the Baroque and Leonardo and the Divine Proportion.

Leon Battista Alberti: On Painting A New Translation and Critical Edition Rocco Sinisgalli Edited and Translated by University of Rome, La Sapienza

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS Cambridge, New York, Melbourne, Madrid, Cape Town, Singapore, São Paulo, Delhi, Tokyo, Mexico City Cambridge University Press 32 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10013-2473, USA www.cambridge.org Information on this title: www.cambridge.org/9781107000629 © Rocco Sinisgalli 2011 This publication is in copyright. Subject to statutory exception and to the provisions of relevant collective licensing agreements, no reproduction of any part may take place without the written permission of Cambridge University Press. First published 2011 Printed in the United States of America A catalog record for this publication is available from the British Library. Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication data Alberti, Leon Battista, 1404–1472. [De pictura. English] Leon Battista Alberti : On painting : a new translation and critical edition / Leon Battista Alberti ; [translated by] Rocco Sinisgalli. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-1-107-00062-9 (hardback) 1. Painting – Early works to 1800. I. Sinisgalli, Rocco. II. Title. III. Title: On painting. ND1130.A4813 2010 0.750–dc22 2010027685 ISBN 978-1-107-00062-9 Hardback Cambridge University Press has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Web sites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Web sites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

To Raffaela

Contents List of Illustrations Acknowledgments Introduction From Tuscan to Latin, and Not Vice Versa Johannes Regiomontanus, Albrecht Dürer, and the Editio Princeps The Tuscan Vernacular Text, Its Prologue, and Its Dedication to Brunelleschi The False Priority of Latin The Florentine Tradition From Janitschek to Grayson Text Prologue Addressed to Filippo Brunelleschi Letter to Giovanni Francesco Book One: The Rudiments Book Two: The Picture Book Three: The Painter Appendixes Appendix 1: Limitations of Grayson’s Studies on De Pictura Appendix 2: First Doubts Notes Illustrations Selected Bibliography Index of Names (Albertian Text)

Illustrations 1. The Point. The Line 2. The Surface. The Extreme Part of a Body 3. The First Quality of a Surface: The Known External Path 4. The Circle 5. Rectilinear Figures and Their Transformation 6. The Angles 7. The Other Quality of a Surface: The Skin or the Dorsal Extension 8. The Uniform and Plane Surface 9. The Spherical Surface 10. The Sphere 11. The Sphere: What Does “in Every Aspect” Mean? 12. The Concave Surface 13. The Composite Surface of the Cylinder 14. The Composite Surface of the Cone 15. The Pyramids and the Cones 16. If the Distance or Position Changes 17. The Visual Rays: Intromission Theory 18. The Visual Rays: Expulsion Theory 19. The Extreme Rays 20. The Median Rays 21. The Centric Ray 22. The Potentialities and Task of the Extreme Rays 23. The Visual Triangle 24. The Visual Triangle: First Rule 25. The Visual Triangle: Second Rule 26. The Pyramid of Rays 27. The Pyramid Has the Shape of an Oblong Body 28. The Potentialities and Task of the Median Rays 29. The Median Rays over a Long Distance 30. Equal Adjacent Angles 31. The Centric Ray Is Called the Leader and Even the Prince of Rays 32. The Reception of Light: The Candlelight 33. The Reception of Light: The Sun 34. Lights and Colors 35. The Colors

36. The Four Elements 37. The Green Color Species 38. The Sky-Blue Color Species 39. The Red Color Species 40. The Ash Color Species 41. The Lights of the Stars: The Sun, the Moon, and Lucifer 42. The Shadows of Fire 43. Figure 3 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 47) 44. The Reflection of Rays 45. The Visual Pyramid 46. The Visual Pyramid and the Cut 47. A Discussion about Surfaces: 1 48. A Discussion about Surfaces: 2 49. The Proposition of Mathematicians 50. The Proportional Triangles: 1 51. The Proportional Triangles: 2 52. A Certain Comparison 53. The Proportional Triangles: 3 54. Figure 5 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 50) 55. The Proportional Visual Triangles 56. Equidistant Quantities from the Cut 57. Equidistant Surfaces from the Cut 58. Surfaces Not Equidistant from the Cut 59. Quantities Equidistant from the Visual Rays 60. Quantities Collinear to the Visual Rays 61. The Theorem of Distance 62. Figure 7 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 52) 63. The Scale of Representation 64. Man Is the Model and the Measure of All Things 65. An Open Window 66. The Centric Point: 1 67. The Centric Point: 2 68. A Wrong Way of Painting: 1 69. A Wrong Way of Painting: 2 70. The Miracles of Painting 71. An Excellent Method: 1 72. An Excellent Method: 2

73. The Mirror and the Painting 74. The Veil 75. The Veil and the Drawing of Profiles of Small Surfaces 76. The Calculation of Parallels Through Sight 77. Spherical Concave and Convex Surfaces 78. The Drawing of Profiles of Very Great Surfaces: 1 79. The Drawing of Profiles of Very Great Surfaces: 2 80. The Circular Surfaces 81. The Circle 82. Figure 14 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 70) 83. The Profile According to the Shadow of a Lamp 84. The Faces 85. The Bones, the Nerves, the Muscles 86. The Height of a Man 87. One Praises a Historia 88. One Blames a Historia 89. The Historia: Hands, Fingers, Feet, Arms, Flexions, Actions 90. The Historia: Nude, Partly Nude, Partly Veiled 91. The Historia: From That Side of the Face 92. The Historia: That Covered Head 93. The Historia: The Activity of the Mind 94. The Historia: Someone Who Informs the Spectators 95. Seven Movements 96. Body Movements in Accordance to a Certain Harmony: The Head, the Eyes 97. Body Movements in Accordance to a Certain Harmony: The Elbow, the Knee, the Foot 98. Body Movements in Accordance to a Certain Harmony: A Hand Upward, the Heel 99. Movements of Inanimate Things: Air and Horses’ Manes 100. Movements of Inanimate Things: The Bends and Curves of Branches 101. Movements of Inanimate Things: The Folds of Fabrics 102. Movements of Inanimate Things: Clothes, Dresses, and Wind 103. Surfaces, Lights, and Colors: Plane Surface and Opposite Surface 104. Surfaces, Lights, and Colors: Spherical Surface 105. Creativity: That Famous Description of Calumny 106. Creativity: The Three Graces

107. Differences in the Members: The Nose 108. Differences in the Members: The Legs 109. Schemes 110. The Prize for My Toils

Acknowledgments During the long years that I spent realizing this work, I developed some debts of gratitude. First of all, I am grateful to Professor Carlo Pedretti, who right from the beginning encouraged me to translate the De Pictura. I feel the same sense of gratitude toward Professor Samuel Y. Edgerton, who involved me in his research project about perspective at the Clark Art Institute of Williams College in Williamstown, Massachusetts, as soon as he understood the nature of my own studies. On the first translation from Italian into English, I had the collaboration of the painter Caroline Elridge and of my colleague Professor Jane Cahill, who teaches English in the Faculty of Architecture Valle Giulia. My deepest thanks go to Dr. Andreas Thielemann, scientific assistant at the Bibiblioteca Hertziana. Special thanks also go to Stefano Marconi and to Lucia Bertolini, with whom I have had the pleasure of discussing some Albertian topics. I must not forget to mention Marisa Dalai, Francesco Paolo Fiore, Roberto Cardini, Giuseppa Saccaro Del Buffa Battisti, Giovanna Perini, Joseph Connors, Gerhard Wolf, Charles Burroughs, Howard Burns, Joachim Poeschke, Samir Younés, Isabelle Bouvrande, Alina Payne, Christoph L. Frommel, Joseph Rykwert, David Marsh, Jean Guillaume, Lorenz Böninger, Frank Hieronymus, Paola Farenga, Rosalba Dinoia, Anthony Grafton, Thomas Da Kosta Kaufmann, John Pinto, Martin McLaughlin, Stefano Sbrana, Alberto Sarsano, Tommaso Berini, Angelo Santilli, Dante Bernini, Grazia Pezzini, Kim Veltman, Hellmut Wohl, Michael Ann Holly, Marc De Mey, and Niceas Schamp. I also wish to express appreciation toward some of my colleagues in the Faculty of Architecture Valle Giulia, who have always shown interest in my research; among them are Benedetto Todaro, Mariano Mari, Roberto Cassetti, and Emanuela Belfiore. Moreover, I thank Giorgio Di Loreto and Giulia Corvino, librarians at our faculty, for providing me with numerous volumes; in the same way, I must thank Dr. Jutta Tschoeke, director of the Albrecht Dürer House, Nuremberg, who supplied me with some significant writings concerning Dürer. For the research at the base of this book, I looked at numerous manuscripts and rare works in the following libraries: Apostolica Vaticana;

Nazionale, Rome; Alessandrina, Rome; Corsiniana, Rome; Nazionale and Marucelliana, Florence; Marciana, Venice; Ambrosiana, Milan; Capitolare, Verona; Classense, Ravenna; Labronica, Livorno; Governativa, Lucca; Nationale, Paris; Landeskirchliches Archiv, Nuremberg; Germanisches National Museum, Nuremberg; and Stadt Bibliotek Egidienplatz, Nuremberg. I received financial grants for the realization of this work from the University of Rome, Sapienza, on both the faculty and university levels. My research on the De Pictura was a national “Firb” project, proposed in 2001, and also a national PRIN project, proposed in 2005, related to the history of perspective. This book is a condensed version of a larger work published in Rome in 2006. Thus I must add to the list of people I have already mentioned the names of Marco Frascari, University of Ottawa; Henry Millon, Center for Advanced Study in the Visual Arts, Washington, DC; and Ingrid D. Rowland, University of Chicago. I am indebted to the first-named individual for his goodness, which he manifested during his editing. I am grateful to the second for his friendly, constructive, and helpful spirit; my debt to him can never be measured in its totality, but it can at least be gratefully acknowledged. I am in debt to the third for her devotion to Latin scholarship, which she clearly manifested during her careful editing. My thanks also go to Dr. Jason Cardone, with whom I undertook the final proof revision. In 2007 I taught the subject of my book outside my country, while I was a Fellow in Brussels at the Royal Flemish Academy of Belgium for Science and the Arts (VLAC). During my six-month fellowship, I gave many lectures about the book and also about the connection between Leon Battista Alberti and the Flemish painter Jan van Eyck. Finally, I must add that if I have been able to complete this work, I owe it to Raffaela, my wife, to whom I dedicate the book and to whom I give all my gratitude and affection for having put up with me during these long years of study. Rocco Sinisgalli

Introduction

From Tuscan to Latin, and not vice versa Leon Battista Alberti (1404–1472), the most influential humanist of the Renaissance, wrote his well-known De Pictura, consisting of three parts or books, between the years 1435 and 1436, in two separate languages: the local dialect of Tuscany, and Latin. The usual opinion is that the author wrote the text in Latin first and then translated it into the vernacular for the benefit of working-class painters who lacked a classical education. Nevertheless, I propose to demonstrate that Alberti wrote his treatise first in the vernacular(1) and then, later, in Latin. In the later version, enriched by both new information and corrections of earlier errors, the author introduced many clarifications, changing names and terms and even rewriting sentences to improve them, and in the end produced a definitive version. Subsequently, the original vernacular version, extant in only a few manuscripts, was not mentioned again by scholars until the end of the eighteenth century.(2) The Latin draft, however, was reproduced in numerous manuscripts. Perhaps Alberti’s final Latin draft was the one printed in Basel in 1540.(3) This Basel printed text is the one that I have translated here into English. Cecil Grayson’s well-known English translation of On Painting (1972) derives from a collation of several Latin manuscripts of De Pictura but largely excludes the Basel version. Nevertheless, his translation of the accompanying composite Latin text has been generally accepted and has served as the source for French and German modern translations.(4) Twenty Latin manuscripts of De Pictura still exist.(5) Some, but not all, contain a letter addressed to Giovanni Francesco, prince of Mantua,(6) apparently sent along with a copy of the treatise as a gift to the prince by the author; perhaps he sent it in 1438, on the occasion of the Council of Ferrara, where Alberti was in residence as a member of the papal court.(7) However, Alberti reworked some of the text between 1466 and 1468, and it is likely that the Basel version was printed from that final draft. The Basel version, with certain lexical and scientific characteristics, suggests a late rewriting: a hitherto unknown manuscript, hereafter “the master copy.”

Even though the letter to the prince of Mantua is lacking in the Basel edition, it is included here because of the importance of its text. Johannes Regiomontanus, Albrecht Dürer, and the Editio Princeps In 1461, Johann Müller, known as Johannes Regiomontanus (1436–1476), arrived in Rome, as a member of the suite of Cardinal Bessarion (1402– 1472).(8) He soon made friends with Paolo dal Pozzo Toscanelli (1397– 1482), Alberti, and Nicholas Cusanus (1401–1464), and, in his Oratio introductoria in omnes scientias mathematicas, presented as a lecture at the University of Padua, expressed great admiration for the writings of each of them.(9) In 1468, Regiomontanus left Italy, first to relocate in Hungary and then, three years later, in Nuremberg, with the intention of establishing a printing house. He planned to publish at least twenty-two works of his own and another twenty-nine by other authors. In presenting his ambitious plan to render through the newly invented printing medium a number of astronomical and geometrical treatises, he hinted at the future publication of other manuscripts that he evidently had brought with him from Italy.(10) Among them, as we will soon see, there must have been the one of De Pictura. Unfortunately, Regiomontanus died at forty before completing his project. Regiomontanus’s friend and pupil was Bernhard Walther (1430–1504), who was on good terms with the parents of the painter and engraver Albrecht Dürer (Nuremberg, 1471–1528) and became the godfather of Dürer’s sister Christina.(11) We also know that Walther came into possession of Regiomontanus’s library, which he cared for and moved into the same house that in 1509 was purchased by Dürer. It was Willibald Pirckheimer (1470–1530), Dürer’s closest friend, who in 1512 wrote the first inventory of the volumes and manuscripts of Regiomontanus and Walther. In this inventory, Pirckheimer recorded the presence of Alberti’s De Pictura with the phrase De pictura babtis (On Painting, by Battista Alberti). In a second inventory, drafted by Pirckheimer in 1522, Alberti’s work appears again, with the title Liber de pictura L. Baptiste de Albertis (Geometria). From 1512, therefore, if not before, Dürer could have read and studied De Pictura.(12)

One member of Pirckheimer’s and Dürer’s circle of learned friends was Thomas Venatorius (1490–1551), also from Nuremberg. In 1540 he edited the manuscript, which is likely to have been in the Pirckheimer’s library, for the editio princeps of De Pictura, for the publisher Bartholomew Westheimer of Basel.(13) He preceded this edition with a “dedicatory” letter to the mathematician Jakob Milichius (1501–1559). The fact that Venatorius wrote in the Milichius letter the words “as soon as I encountered the three books entitled the De Pictura” and, further on, “We have seen the celebrated Dürer himself” is significant.(14) “As soon as” refers to the ease with which Venatorius had access to and could consult “the master copy,” whereas “We have seen the celebrated Dürer himself” reveals his familiarity with the great artist. Because he had become the legal administrator of Pirckheimer’s estate, charged with preparing an inventory of the library,(15) Venatorius could easily have read and consulted the De Pictura manuscript. It is reasonable to suggest that the manuscript used for the Basel printing had actually been prepared by Alberti himself. It could have been a late version of the text, consigned to Regiomontanus by the author before Regiomontanus left Italy for Hungary in 1468 because Alberti knew that the young scientist intended to take advantage of the new movable type technology just becoming an industry on the other side of the Alps. In sum, simply because it contains unique additions and corrections, the Basel printed editio princeps can reasonably be assumed to have derived from the ultimate Latin autograph manuscript of Alberti’s De Pictura.(16) At least two printings of this edition were published in August 1540. The copies of this edition, now in the national libraries of Rome and Paris, show, only on the title page, wording that differs slightly from that of a third copy, now in the Marciana Library, Venice. The first two copies have the word arte after laudata and the word genere after scientiarum. Both also lack the particle et and transform the word Mathematices into the locution mathematicarum disciplinarum. These differences, plus others of a typographical nature, especially in the first sixteen pages, suggest the possibility of a second publisher, probably Andreas Cratander, perhaps as a cofinancer of the printing.(17) The Tuscan Vernacular Text, Its Prologue, and Its Dedication to Brunelleschi

There exist only three manuscripts of the vernacular text of De Pictura: one in the National Library of Paris, a second in the Capitolare Library of Verona, and a third in the National Library of Florence. The last is in the best condition.(18) It is preceded by an introductory prologue addressed to the famous architect and sculptor Filippo Brunelleschi (1376–1446), and it ends with the date “July 17th, 1436.” Like all the known Latin manuscripts, none of the extant vernacular texts is autograph. However, in a manuscript copy of Cicero’s De Brute, which belonged to Alberti and is now in the Marciana Library of Venice, there is a note, written in Alberti’s own hand, that says: “Florence, Friday August 26th 1435, today at the 20th hour and 3/4 I finished the work on De Pictura.”(19) These are two very precise dates. Consider the earlier date, August 26, 1435, when Alberti says he completed the first draft of De Pictura. He was clearly expressing satisfaction for having progressed this far in his project, but it is not certain that he was referring just to his Latin version, for indeed he used the same title, De Pictura, on the vernacular text that he dedicated to Brunelleschi. (20) We may infer, in fact, that whatever text he had just finished was still open to revision, and in this condition it might have remained had not a unique opportunity arisen to turn to it again and to associate it with a great man and an extraordinary event. A month and a half after July 17, 1436, on August 30, Brunelleschi, amid much public fanfare, officially inaugurated the cupola above Florence’s Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, which he had just completed, his most illustrious architectural triumph.(21) It was certainly a moment for all of Florence to remember and cherish. The panorama of this great city would forever be signified by Brunelleschi’s “trademark” cathedral dome: “such an enormous structure, towering over the skies, and wide enough to cast its shadow over all the Tuscan people,” as Alberti himself remarked. One should also recall that Brunelleschi, just a few years before, demonstrated for the first time, by means of his two famous perspective panels, how the optical laws of mirror reflection could be applied to painting. Thus July of 1436, as Brunelleschi was basking in these triumphs, was the perfect moment for Alberti to dedicate his vernacular De Pictura to this Florentine genius. Alberti did so kindly and carefully, no doubt because he had had time to realize that his 1435 edition still needed correcting and enlarging and, above all, because he hoped that the “great” Brunelleschi

would help him with further suggestions and advice. Who would have been better able? The evidence is there, in the author’s prologue dedication to “Pippo architetto”: “and if occasionally you should find a moment of leisure, it would please me to have you look at this little work of mine ‘On Painting,’ which I composed, in your name, in the Tuscan language.” Further on: “Please, then, read my work with diligence, and if you think that anything in it has to be amended, do correct me. No writer was ever so learned as not to profit from learned friends. And I would like to be corrected by you first, so as not to be censured by detractors.”(22) Alberti speaks almost with the ardor of an apprentice to the “master.” The phrases he repeats, such as “have you look,” “read my work with diligence,” “to be amended,” “do correct me,” “I would like to be corrected,” all reveal not only the author’s modesty and humility but also his uncertainty that the manuscript was final, emphasized even more by his worry about being “censured by detractors.” The text that Brunelleschi had in his hands was without doubt the one that Alberti knew was still naïve, so that, when the author says in the dedication, “And I would like to be corrected by you first,” one might also surmise that the great architect may actually have encouraged the promising young humanist to improve his work further. It is intriguing to speculate that Alberti did receive some advice from his “master” and that he may have included those comments in his next version, that is, the corrected Latin text of De Pictura. Anthony Grafton expresses a very different opinion when he argues that “Alberti’s dedication did not mollify its recipient. Brunelleschi, ever paranoid about his intellectual property, presumably reacted with characteristic irritation when he saw that Alberti’s work contained a long discussion of perspective but did not mention him or his model panels.”(23) I do not agree. Alberti was actually describing a more simplified, step-bystep method of perspective projection, an “abbreviated construction,” certainly inspired by Brunelleschi but based on looking through a window rather than at a reflection in a mirror.(24) Giorgio Vasari (Arezzo, 1511– Florence, 1574) later claimed that Brunelleschi’s original perspective system was based on architectural drawing, that is, as modern scholars have generally assumed, that Brunelleschi’s original “legitimate construction” was essentially based on the method of plan and elevation.(25) The False Priority of Latin

If Alberti’s vernacular text was merely a translation from the Latin, why would he have included so many “mistakes,” even mathematical ones, and then give the treatise to the most competent “maestro” of his time and ask for help? The notion of those who believe that Alberti, wishing to address the more ordinary artists, rewrote his Latin treatise to make it easier to read for those who did not understand the language of Cicero, is illogical. Quite the opposite surely happened. Alberti’s first intention was to draft the work in the Tuscan dialect and then to dedicate it to Brunelleschi. Only subsequently did he refine the text in the Latin language. Latin was, in fact it still is, the most precise language for framing complex concepts, scientific and geometric included, whereas the local Italian dialects were then quite lacking an appropriate vocabulary. Almost two centuries would have to pass before Galileo could express such mathematical thoughts in his native tongue. Unfortunately, it is a modern prejudice to take for granted that if two texts of the same subject exist, one in a still-spoken language of today, and the other in ancient Latin, that the former must simply be a translation of the latter. We are too accustomed to regarding Latin as always having been a “dead” language, even during the Renaissance. Nevertheless, and certainly during the early years of the fifteenth century, Latin and “volgare” coexisted equally and were commonly spoken together, not only by the educated humanists but also among persons associated with the “universal” (Catholic) church. Indeed, Leon Battista Alberti’s official job was to be “abbreviatore apostolico,” that is, composer of papal briefs in Latin for the Pontifical Curia. In his own time and occupation, it would have been usual to think of translations as the other way around – as always from some local native language into the more formal and universal Latin. Regarding the Paris manuscript of the vernacular text, both the copyist in the sixteenth century and Count Giuseppe Mazzatinti in 1886 made the same mistake.(26) So too did Giammaria Mazzucchelli and Count Scipione Maffei, regarding the Verona manuscript, in the eighteenth century,(27) and the librarian Vincenzo Follini, cataloguing the Florentine manuscript, in the nineteenth century.(28) The copyist of the Paris codex, by now accustomed to transcribing translations executed from Latin to vernacular, and being aware of a Latin text drafted by the same author, also reported what everyone would eventually claim, that the vernacular text at hand was realized from the Latin by the author “in order to make it more convenient

for non literates.”(29) Mazzatinti, who first published the title and a description of the Paris manuscript, noted parenthetically: “Treatise on painting translated from Latin by Battista Alberti.”(30) In 1735, Mazzucchelli wrote, regarding the Verona manuscript: “The particular of it is that it is in the vernacular language and the translation appears to be made by Alberti himself.”(31) His word “appears” is the same word used by Maffei, who had been the manuscript’s owner and had inscribed in the margin of the last folio: “It appears that this is a translation by the author himself.”(32) It seems clear that Mazzucchelli based his opinion on that of Maffei.(33) Furthermore, Mazzucchelli made another deduction that casts doubt on his understanding of Latin. Regarding the printed Basel text, he stated: “From the words added in this frontispiece, iamprimum in lucem editi, it seems that an earlier edition had been made that is no longer known,” when in fact that Latin locution means, literally, “now for the first time brought to light.”(34) Apparently, Mazzucchelli mistranslated iamprimum as iampridem, another adverb meaning “long ago,” and so rendered the phrase as indicating another edition once published in the past but now lost. I must also mention the inscription on the initial flyleaves of the Florentine manuscript. It was written by Vincenzo Follini, appointed librarian of the Magliabechiana in Florence on October 1, 1831: “On Painting, Books three. Translated by the author himself from Latin”; he adds, “See Mazzucchelli, … page 314.” It is thus apparent that Follini based his assertion of the translation from the Latin only on Mazzucchelli’s authority, even noting the latter’s page number.(35) The Florentine Tradition A different opinion was shared among the Florentine commentators of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. Antonio Averlino, called Filarete (1400– 1469/70), a contemporary of Alberti, referred to the latter’s Latin text specifically in Book One of his own Treatise on Architecture: “[H]e [Alberti] also made a very elegant work in Latin.”(36) A century later, Ludovico Domenichi, in his 1547 Italian translation of De Pictura directly from the Basel Latin, still makes no mention of a prior vernacular edition. (37) Vasari indicated that he too knew only the Latin text when he stated:

“[Alberti] wrote three books On Painting, today translated into the Tuscan language by Messer Ludovico Domenichi.”(38) Similarly, Cosimo Bartoli, addressing Vasari, to whom he dedicated his 1568 translation of De Pictura from Latin to Italian, wrote, “[M]eanwhile do not disdain that this little work on painting by the very virtuous Leon Battista Alberti is published in this language of ours translated by myself, under your name.”(39) Raffaelle Trichet du Fresne likewise affirmed this view when he republished the Bartoli edition in 1651: “[Alberti] wrote then in the same [Latin] language three books on painting.”(40) In sum, it is clear that these early authors knew only the Latin De Pictura, as evidenced by their making no reference to any prior vernacular version as one would otherwise have expected them to. It is a pity they were wrong. The first mention of an original vernacular text is found in an Alberti eulogy published in Florence by Pompilio Pozzetti in 1789.(41) Pozzetti, who knew the vernacular manuscript in Florence, did not consider it a translation from Latin; rather, he thought that Alberti had composed it first in vernacular and then in Latin, just as he had his other text, the Elements of Painting, which he dedicated to his friend Theodore Gaza.(42) The Gaza dedication is revealing: But since very often you have affirmed that my three books on painting are well-received and that moreover you requested that I would also compose the Elements in Latin which have been published by myself a short time ago in the Tuscan language for the love of my fellow citizens, and that I would send them for you to see, I wished to completely satisfy your expectation and our friendship even so much as was in me. I translated them, in fact, into Latin and indeed in order for these to be a propitious and happy souvenir and a perpetual proof of our friendship, I dedicated them to your name.(43) Anicio Bonucci had the same idea as Pozzetti when, in 1847, he published the vernacular text for the first time and commented that “the Latin execution was after the vernacular, because of the more extensive Latin text and differences which could be explained only by a return of the author to the same work.”(44) Thus Bonucci suggested the reason why the

vernacular edition must have been first, but, unfortunately, few scholars who came after him took note. From Janitschek to Grayson Hubert Janitschek, who published the first translation of De Pictura from the Tuscan vernacular into German in 1877, believed that the vernacular text was a rewriting of the Latin. Because the vernacular was supposedly written for Alberti’s artist contemporaries, Janitschek did not understand why the humanist would have needed to write a later version in Latin.(45) Girolamo Mancini, on the other hand, wrote in his great 1882 biography of Alberti: “We have On Sculpture and On Painting in both languages, and it is difficult to establish if they were initially in Italian or in Latin. I am inclined to believe that they were dictated in vernacular as the Elements, for the scarce or nonexistent knowledge of Latin among sculptors and painters, and the author, wishing to help the artists when practicing the profession, should have preferred the language better understood by them.”(46) Thus, whereas Janitschek and Mancini were both inclined to consider that Alberti wrote his treatise primarily to meet the needs of artists, they expressed opposite opinions as to which version was written first. Neither, however, made any reference to the precise contents of the treatise. Luigi Mallè, who published a critical edition of the Florentine manuscript in 1950, began his section on “Questioni filologiche relative al trattato” believing that the vernacular was a translation from the Latin because Alberti would have used in his prologue to Brunelleschi, the word feci, meaning “to translate,” just as facerem meant in his dedication of the Elements, which he inscribed to Theodore Gaza.(47) Mallè actually made little effort to compare the contents of the two versions, even though he proclaimed the vernacular text to be “the most exact expression” of Alberti’s intent, and then accused Bonucci of “opportunism.”(48) Anna Maria Brizio responded to Mallè in 1952. She wrote: “Here, the question of priority of the Latin or vernacular compilations of the treatise should be more profoundly investigated than Mallè does. Nor did I examine it deeply myself, but in spite of Mallè … I feel inclined to consider the Italian edition as anterior.”(49)

In 1953, Cecil Grayson made his first comment, agreeing with Mallè on “facere,” which Grayson believed to mean “tradussi.”(50) Grayson also rendered “commendare alle lettere” in the last paragraph of the vernacular De Pictura, as “to write in Latin,” whereas that locution simply means “to write,” or better, “to put in writing,” corresponding to the phrase literis mandaverimus, which we find in the Latin text.(51) He further claimed that Alberti simplified the vernacular “for artists lacking in Latin” and also to reach “a wider public,” adding that the Latin draft came “first and the vernacular [was] a translation made a short time later either in 1435 or in 1436 to dedicate it to his friend Brunelleschi.” Grayson concluded: “I realized at the same moment that a first vernacular draft seems better to correspond to the Florentine artistic circle, which in the dedication to Brunelleschi is the object of praise and admiration. We can perhaps better imagine that A[lberti], having returned to Florence, dictated his booklet under the influence of artist friends in his native tongue rather than Latin. But the dedication of the Latin version to Giovanni Francesco of Mantua must be counter to this matter.” As a consequence of this, Grayson questioned further: “Is it possible, for example, that A[lberti] had dedicated his Latin On Painting to an illustrious prince after having just before dedicated the same work in vernacular to the Florentine architect, Pippo Brunelleschi?” Alberti’s famous letter to the prince of Mantua is not a dedication. He wrote “Hos de pictura libros, princeps illustrissime, dono ad te deferri iussi,” which is translated as “I have decided to have these books on painting brought as a present to you, most illustrious prince,” and not, as Grayson translated it, “I wished to present you with these books on painting, illustrious prince.”(52) In other words, Alberti was sending a copy of his treatise as a gift to Giovanni Francesco, much as modern authors do.

Text

Prologue Addressed to Filippo Brunelleschi I used to wonder and to regret at the same time that so many excellent and divine arts and sciences, which we see, through their works and copious historical accounts, during those very virtuous days of distant past, are thus now missing and almost entirely lost. Painters, sculptors, architects, musicians, geometricians, rhetoricians, augurs, and similar most noble and marvelous intellects today are found very rarely and [are] little to be praised. Hence I came to believe what many keep saying, that already Nature, mistress of things, by now aged and weary, no longer produced either giants or great minds like those which she produced very big and marvelous in her almost youthful and more glorious times. But as from the long exile, in which we the Alberti have grown old, I was returned to this fatherland of ours, very ornate above all others, I recognized in many, but first in you, Filippo, and in that our great friend Donato the sculptor, and in those others, who are so well praised for their intellect, Nencio, Luca, and Masaccio,(1) that they are not to be [thought] inferior to any who might have been in antiquity, however famous they could have possibly been in these arts. Thus I perceived that the possibility of acquiring distinction in whatever [the] endeavor lies in our industry and diligence no less than in the good disposition of Nature and of the times. I confess to you that for the ancients, of course, it was less difficult to reach a degree of excellence in those arts most difficult for us to master, because they had many models to learn from and to imitate. But, on the other hand, our fame should be greater if we, without teachers and [with] no example whatsoever, discover arts and sciences hitherto unheard of or never seen. Whoever would be stubborn or envious enough to deny praise to the architect Pippo, seeing such an enormous structure towering over the skies, and wide enough to cast its shadow all over the Tuscan people, made as it is without any beam or abundance of wooden supports, surely hard to believe as an artifice that it was done at this time when nothing of the kind was ever to have been seen in antiquity? But praise of your virtues as well as of those of our Donato, together with those of others who are dear to me for their good behaviors, will be kept for another occasion. You just hold steady in your

daily efforts to find things that bring perpetual fame and renown to your brilliant mind, and if occasionally you should find a moment of leisure, it would please me to have you look at this little work of mine “On Painting,” which I composed, in your name, in the Tuscan language.(2) You will see three books: the first, entirely on mathematics, causes this pleasant and most noble art to spring from its roots in Nature. The second book places this art in the hands of the painter, articulated as it is in its parts and with a full explanation of it. The third shows how the painter should be and how he should acquire proper knowledge to master every aspect of the art of painting. Please, then, read my work with diligence, and if you think that anything in it has to be amended, do correct me. No writer was ever so learned as not to profit from learned friends. And I would like to be corrected by you first, so as not to be censured by detractors.(3)

Letter To Giovanni Francesco, most illustrious Prince of Mantua I have decided to have these books on painting brought as a present to you, most illustrious prince,(1) since I have understood that you take very great delight in these noble arts;(2) you will certainly understand, from the books themselves, in what measure I have contributed to those (arts), through skill and zeal of clarity and of knowledge, when you have read them in your spare time. Since, in fact, you rule such a peaceful and stable city by your valor, that you do not lack time to dedicate to, from time to time, as it is your habit, free from public duties, literary studies, I hope – accordingly to your usual sensibility in which you greatly exceed all other princes in the knowledge of literature no less than in the valor of arms – that you will consider neglecting as little as possible our books. You will realize, in fact, that the subjects they deal with can easily attract scholars, not just because of an art worthy of erudite ears in itself but also because of the novelty of the subject. But enough about these books. You will then know my character and instruction – if I have one(3) – and my whole lifestyle, when you will arrange as it is my wish, that I can stay with you. Lastly, I will believe that you have been satisfied by the work, if you wish to include me, your most devoted, among your family members,(4) and not consider me ranked among the last.

Book One The Rudiments 1As we want to write these very brief commentaries on painting, we will first take from mathematicians things that will seem to pertain to the subject so as to make our presentation clearer. Having known, without doubt, these things, we will explain the art of painting, as long as talent will not fail, beginning from Nature’s principles themselves.(1) But in every expression of ours, I ask earnestly to bear in mind that I speak of these things not as a mathematician but as a painter. Those [the mathematicians], in fact, measure figures and shapes of things with the mind only, without considering the materiality of the object. We [painters], instead, since we want an object to be visible, in writing we shall express [ourselves] through good common sense, as one says.(2) Furthermore, we believe we have reached our purpose if the painters who read us will be able to understand this matter, clearly difficult, and treated by nobody else, as far as I know, by means of written documents in whatever way.(3) I then ask that they [the painters] consider our commentaries as written, not by a pure mathematician but only as by a painter. 2Before anything else, therefore, one must have understood that (Fig. 1a) the point is a sign, so to speak, that in no way can be divided into parts. By sign, here I mean anything that rests on a surface so that it can be observed by the eye. No one, really, denies that things that are not visible do not pertain to the painter. The painter, in fact, strives to represent only things that are visible under light. The points will certainly make a line if they are joined without interruption, according to a sequence. Consequently, (Fig. 1b) for us, the line will be a sign, the length of which is certainly possible to divide into parts, but [its] width will be so thin that it [the width] can never be divided.(4) Among lines, one is rectilinear, another one is curved. The straight line is a sign traced lengthways directly from point to point. The curved line is the one that will have gone from point to point, not through a rectilinear path, but after having made a curve. (Fig. 2a) If more lines stick together like close threads in a cloth, they will make a surface. (Fig. 2b) The surface, in fact, is the extreme part of a body, which is not recognizable through a certain depth but only by length and width,(5) as well as by its

qualities.(6) Some qualities are so linked to the surface that they cannot be removed or separated from it in any way, unless the surface has been altered completely.(7) Other times, instead, the qualities are such that – by the surface of the shape remaining the same – they nevertheless present [themselves] to sight in such a way that the surface may appear altered to the observers. (Fig. 3) The permanent qualities of surfaces are then two. One is unquestionably that which appears along the known external path, by means of which the surface encloses itself; [a path] that some properly call limit.(8) If we are allowed [to do it], for a certain analogy with the Latin term, let us call it border, or, as long as it pleases you, edge. And precisely the edge itself will be defined either by one or more lines. Let it be closed in the manner of a single circular [line];(9) by more [lines], either by a curved and by a second straight one; or also by more straight and curved lines. Certainly, the edge itself that contains and encloses the whole surface of a circle is a circular line. (Fig. 4a) Actually, the circle is a form of surface that a line encloses just like a crown. That is why, if in the middle there will be a point, all the radii drawn from this exact point directly to the crown are equal to each other in length.(10) The same point is called, in fact, the center of the circle.(11) (Fig. 4b) The straight line that will have intersected the crown of the circle twice and that will pass through the center is called, among mathematicians, the diameter of the circle.(12) (Fig. 4c) Let us give to this very line the name of centermost line,(13) and let us accept from mathematicians what they say at this point: that no line, that cuts the border, makes equal angles, [starting] from the crown of the circle, except for the one that passes through the center. 3But let us go back to surfaces. (Fig. 5a) From the things that I have examined, in fact, one can easily understand how, after having altered the course of the edge, the surface itself loses, on [the] one hand shape, on the other [its] original name as well, and that [surface], which was before perhaps called triangle now will be called quadrangle, or, of many angles, one after another.(14) (Fig. 5b) An edge will certainly be said changed if the lines or angles should become, in any way whatsoever, not only more numerous but also more obtuse [the angles], or longer [the lines], or more acute [the angles], or shorter [the lines]. This topic suggests something to say about the angles. (Fig. 6a) Without [any] doubt, an angle, included between two lines which intersect themselves mutually, is the extremity of a

surface.(15) (Fig. 6b) There are three kinds of angles: the right one, the obtuse one, and the acute one. The right angle is one of the four angles that is described by two straight lines which intersect each other reciprocally, in such a way that it is equal to each of the three [angles] that remain.(16) Hence one says that all right angles are equal to each other.(17) The obtuse angle is the one that is greater than a right [angle].(18) The acute [angle] is the one that is smaller than a right one.(19) 4Let us go back to the surface again. We have explained on what condition the first quality adheres to the surface along the edge. (Fig. 7) What is left for us to speak about is the other quality of surfaces, which is like a skin stretched out, so to speak, over the whole dorsal extension of a surface.(20) This is divided into three [kinds]. One, in fact, is called uniform and plane, the other humpbacked and spherical, the third curved in and concave. To these, one must add, in fourth place, the surfaces that are formed by preceding ones. We [shall speak] of these later; now [we speak] of the first [ones]. (Fig. 8) The plane surface is the one that a ruler, placed on any part of it, adheres to it in a uniform way; the surface of perfectly clear and calm water will be most similar to this. (Fig. 9) The spherical surface imitates the dorsal extension of a sphere. (Fig. 10, Fig. 11) The sphere is defined as the round body that can rotate, in every aspect;(21) in the middle of it there is the point to which all the extreme parts of that body are equidistant. (Fig. 12) The concave surface is the one that, in its innermost extremity, is placed, so to speak, beneath the most remote skin of the sphere,(22) just like the innermost surfaces in eggshells. (Fig. 13, Fig. 14) The composite surface, instead, is the one that imitates, according to a first measuring, the plane surface, and, according to another, either the concave or the spherical ones, which are the inner surfaces of pipes and the outer ones of columns, or pyramids.(23) 5As we have said, the qualities, therefore, that adhere to the path as well as to the dorsal conformation, have given the names to surfaces.(24) But certainly, the surface remaining unaltered, the qualities that do not always show, nevertheless, the same aspect of themselves, are likewise two; in fact, they appear changed to the observers either with the changing of position or with the changing [of the sources of] light. We must first speak of position, then of light. And certainly then it is necessary to investigate on what condition, when the position is changed, the qualities concerning the

surface itself appear to change. These things, unquestionably, pertain to the power of vision. (Fig. 16) In fact, [if] the distance or position [is] changed, it is necessary that the surfaces appear either smaller or larger, or in any case not with the same edge they used to have, or, in like manner, increased or diminished in color. We evaluate by sight all these things. Let us investigate precisely in what way this happens. And let us begin with the thesis of philosophers who state that surfaces are measured by means of certain rays that are at the service, so to speak, of sight,(25) which they call therefore visual rays since through them the images of the things are transmitted to the sense. Just these rays, in fact, stretched between the eye and the seen surface, on account of their own power and a certain extraordinary subtlety, behave most swiftly, penetrating the air and such bodies rarefied and accessible to light until they meet with something dense and not entirely opaque, in which place they instantly adhere, striking with [their] tips.(26) Truly there was no little debate among the ancients concerning these rays as to whether they arise from the surface or from the eyes.(27) This is a really difficult controversy that we set aside as completely useless to us.(28) (Fig. 17) Let one, without doubt, then, conveniently imagine the rays as certain extremely fine threads, connected as straight as they can [be] in a single extremity as in a bundle and accepted in the same place and at the same moment inside the eye, where the sense of sight resides.(29) (Fig. 18) In which place, let them present themselves, furthermore, not unlike from a shaft of rays; from which they, in exiting extended in length, certainly run just like very straight shoots toward the surface placed in front of them.(30) (Fig. 19) But among these rays there are some differences that I consider most necessary to know. They truly differ in terms of potentialities and tasks. Some, in fact, by touching the edges of surfaces, measure the entire distances of a surface.(31) Let us now call these rays extreme because they hover for sure to barely touch the terminal parts. (Fig. 20) Other rays, undoubtedly, either received by or issuing from the whole dorsal extension of the surface, also perform their task within that pyramid of which we shall shortly speak, at the right moment. They are imbued, in fact, with the same colors and light, of which the surface itself shines. Let us, therefore, call these median rays. (Fig. 21) There is also a ray that may be called centric because of a certain similarity with the centermost line of which we spoke, and this is because it comes to the

surface in such a way as to form, around itself, equal angles on one side and on the other.(32) Three kinds of rays have therefore been found: extreme, median, and centric. 6Let us then investigate what each ray brings to sight; and first of all one will have to speak of the extremes, then of the medians, and finally of the centric ray. (Fig. 22) Quantities are certainly measured by the extreme rays. A quantity is in fact the space that lies on a surface between two distinct points of an edge, [space] that the eye measures by means of these extreme rays, as if by means of a certain instrument shaped like a divider.(33) And precisely, on a surface, there are as many quantities as there are distinct points that one considers to be joined together on the edge.(34) Through sight we recognize, in fact, (Fig. 22a) the height that [there is] between the highest [point] and the lowest one, or (Fig. 22b) the width that [there is] between one on the right and one on the left, or (Fig. 22c) the distance that [there is] between a closer one and a farther one or (Fig. 22d) any other dimension whatsoever, and this only because we are using these extreme rays. (Fig. 23a) From this, it is customary to say that vision is affected through the well-known triangle, the base of which is the quantity seen, and the sides of which are the same rays themselves that extend from the points of a quantity to the eye. Indeed, it is really very certain that no quantity comes to be seen but through this triangle itself.(35) The sides of the visual triangle are therefore known.(36) In this triangle itself, certainly two angles are the well-known vertices, the one and the other, of the quantity. The third one, instead, is of course the main angle, the one that opposite to the base lies within the eye.(37) (Fig. 23b) And at this point one cannot argue whether sight takes place, as they say, precisely at the juncture of the inner nerve or rather on the eye surface itself as if the images were shown on an animated mirror.(38) But at this point it is much less necessary to consider all functions of the eye in relation to vision: it will suffice, in fact, to have shown briefly, in these commentaries, the things that are most necessary to the topic. (Fig. 24a) As the main visual angle resides, then, in the eye, this rule is drawn: of course, the more acute the angle is in the eye, the smaller the size appears.(39) From this, one understands clearly why a quantity, because of a great distance, appears reduced to a point.(40) (Fig. 24b) But things being so, nevertheless, it happens in some surfaces that the closer the observer’s eye is to such [a surface], the eye sees so much smaller a part of

it; the farther [the eye is from the surface], it [sees] a considerably larger part of that surface; one knows that this is just what happens in this way on the spherical surface.(41) Sometimes, therefore, the quantities appear larger and even smaller to the observer because of the distance. He who will have grasped well the reason of this occurrence will have no doubt whatsoever that the median rays should sometimes become extreme, and that, [if] the distance [is] changed, the extremes should become likewise median. And he will understand, therefore, that where the median rays have become extreme, a minor quantity immediately appears.(42) Otherwise, where the extreme rays are retained inside an edge, as those are certainly farther from the edge, one sees so much greater a quantity. 7(Fig. 25) At this point, then, it is my habit to expound a rule to my friends:(43) the more the rays are employed in seeing, the greater the seen quantity is estimated; conversely, the fewer rays there are, the smaller the quantity.(44) (Fig. 26) As for the rest, these extreme rays, catching, like points, the whole edge of a surface, surround the whole surface itself like a cage,(45) whence they say that vision takes place by means of a pyramid of rays. Therefore it is necessary to say what a pyramid is. (Fig. 27) The pyramid has the shape of an oblong body; all the straight lines lead from the base of it upward to meet at a single apex. The base of the pyramid is the surface seen. The sides of the pyramid correspond to the visual rays themselves that are called, as we have said, extreme. The apex of the pyramid will be placed in the eye where the angles of the quantities meet in one single place. Up to this point, we have spoken of the extreme rays, from which the pyramid originates; because of this whole process, the distances between a surface and the eye are of great importance. What is left to be considered are the median rays. (Fig. 28) The median rays are that multitude of rays which, enclosed by the extreme rays, is contained within the pyramid. These rays, furthermore, certainly do what an animal does, they say, such as the chameleon and other similar beasts, that assume the colors of nearby objects when struck by fear, in order not to be easily spotted by hunters. This is precisely what the median rays accomplish. From the contact with the surface, in fact, until the apex of the pyramid, for the whole track, they are so impregnated with the acquired variety of light and colors that, if they were to be cut in any place, at the same point they would give off the absorbed light itself and the same color.(46) (Fig. 29) And yet concerning these median rays, it is well known, first as a fact itself,

that they are weakened over a long distance and that they cause a loss of [visual] sharpness. The reason why this happens has been found, actually, in the following way: since in fact the same rays and all the other visual rays, impregnated and full of lights and colors, pass through the air, and the air itself is impregnated of a certain density, it occurs that the weakened rays lose a great part of [their] charge while they travel through the air. It is rightly said, then, that the greater the distance, the less obscure and more blurred the surface appears. 8It is left for us to speak of the centric ray. (Fig. 30) We call the centric ray the only one that hits a quantity in such a way that equal angles from one part and from the other part correspond to angles adjacent to one another.(47) And for what concerns this centric ray, it is certainly true that it is the most vigorous and lively of all rays. Nor must one deny that a quantity is ever seen greater than that on which the centric ray has ended up. Many things could be said on the efficiency and the functions of the centric ray. Only let us not omit that just this ray is tightly supported by all the others, almost for a certain compactness in converging, so that (Fig. 31a) it is rightly called the leader and even the prince of rays.(48) But let us omit all the other things that would tend to flaunt knowledge more than [reveal] those things which we have decided to speak of. In proper places, many more things will be said about rays in a more suitable way. But at this point, as the brevity of our commentaries requires, let it suffice to have dealt with things which nobody can doubt that – what I trust to have certainly expounded satisfactorily – corresponds to truth, i.e. (Fig. 31b) when the distance is changed and, generally, the position of the centric ray, the surface immediately appears altered.(49) This, in fact, will certainly appear either smaller or larger, or, finally, modified, conforming to the disposition of lines and angles between each other. The position of the centric ray and the distance contribute very much, then, to the determination of vision. (Fig. 32) But there is yet some such third condition on account of which surfaces present [themselves] altered and varied to the observers. It is surely the reception of light. In fact, it is possible to see, on a spherical and concave surface(50) – if one only has a single light source – that on one side the surface is somewhat dark and on another lighter; (Fig. 33) furthermore, at the same distance, and the original position of the centric [ray] remaining the same – provided that this surface itself lies under a light source opposite to the previous one – you will see that the parts, which situated as they were

in that place beneath the opposite light source, become dark, and the same parts that were first in shadow light up.(51) Better still, if there are more light sources, variegated patches of light and darkness will quiver in the appropriate places in proportion to the number and the strength of the light [sources].(52) This [condition] is proved through experiment alone.(53) 9But this circumstance urges us to say something about light and colors. (Fig. 34) It is evident that colors vary because of light, since every color in shade does not appear the same as [the same color] placed under the rays of light. In fact, shadow shows a dark color, while light shows a clear and luminous one. Philosophers say that not one [object] can be seen if it is not covered by light and color.(54) The relationship between colors and light in order to carry out vision is therefore very great; and one realizes how great that [relationship] is by the fact that as light fades, the colors themselves also disappear, darkening little by little.(55) Whereas, as the radiance returns, together with the power of light, the colors themselves return to sight also. The situation being so, colors must be dealt with first; then we will investigate in what way they vary under lights. Let us leave aside the famous dispute of philosophers where the first origins of colors are investigated. What use is it, in fact, to the painter to have learned on what condition a color results from the mixtures of a rare one and a dense one, or of a warm one and a dry one, [or] of a cold one and of a humid one? I do not reject, however, those who, dedicating themselves to the studies of philosophy, debate about colors so as to establish that (Fig. 35a) the species of the colors are seven in number, that (Fig. 35b) black and white are the two extremes of the colors. They certainly place only one in the middle, then two at a time between each extreme and the median itself, raising doubts, so to speak, on the limit that one of the two feels more on the side of the other extreme.(56) It is undoubtedly enough that the painter has learned which are the colors and in what way one must use them in painting. (Fig. 35c) I would not be reproached by the more expert ones who, following philosophers, claim that only two, in the nature of objects, are the integral colors, black and white, and that all others derive from the combination of these two. Of course, as a painter, I have, however, this opinion about colors: that through their mixing one generates an almost infinite number of other colors; but that (Fig. 35d) among painters there are authentic kinds of colors conforming to the number of the four elements,

from which numerous species are obtained. (Fig. 36) And in fact, so to speak, there is the color of fire that they call red; then the color of air as well, which is called sky blue or azure; the color of water is green. The earth, instead, has the color of ashes.(57) All other colors, such as jasper and porphyry stones, we see formed by a mixture. (Fig. 37) The kinds of those four colors consist, therefore, of quite countless species in proportion to the mixture of black and white.(58) We see, in fact, the verdant leaves gradually lose their greenness until they become pale. (Fig. 38) We observe this same thing in the atmosphere itself when, suffused as it is most times with whitish vapor close to the horizon, [it] gradually returns to its proper color. (59) (Fig. 39) Furthermore, in roses too, we observe this: that some are like full and vivid purple, others are like maidens’ cheeks, others like pure-white ivory. (Fig. 40) The color of the earth has its species through the combination of white and black also. 10The basic family of colors does not change, then, but the mixing of white creates its own species. Compared to that, black has a certainly very similar power. By the addition of black, in fact, many species of colors originate, This is surely because a color is excellently altered by a shadow where it appeared by itself,(60) if it is true that, by increasing the shadow, the luminosity and the whiteness of a color cease, while, with the appearance of light, they shine and become more radiant.(61) The painter can therefore sufficiently convince himself that black and white are not by any means true colors, but modifiers, so to speak, of colors, if it is true that the painter has nothing – besides white – with which to indicate the greatest brightness of light, and only black with which to show the deepest darkness. Add to these things, that you will never find black or white that does not exist by itself if not under some kind of color.(62) 11One proceeds with the action of light [sources]. Some are of stars, as [those] of the sun or of the moon and of the morning star, Lucifer; others are of lamps and of fire. But, among them, there is a great difference. (Fig. 41) The lights of the stars, in fact, produce shadows, if nothing else, equal to the bodies, (Fig. 42) whereas [the shadows] of fire are greater than the bodies themselves.(63) And so, let there be shadow when the rays of light are intercepted. (Fig. 44) The intercepted rays either reflect toward another place or return toward themselves. They are reflected, for example, when the rays of the sun rebound from the surface of water to ceilings;(64) and

precisely, as mathematicians demonstrate, every reflection of rays occurs at equal angles between each other.(65) But these things concern another aspect of painting. The reflected rays are impregnated, for no small part, of that color which they have found on the surface from which they are reflected. We see that this occurs in this way when the faces of those who walk on meadows appear greenish. 12Thus I have spoken of surfaces; I have spoken of the rays; I have said on which condition, through looking, the pyramid is made up of triangles. We have shown how extremely important the distance is and the position of the centric ray and that the reception of the light be also ascertained. But since with only one glance we perceive not only one but very many surfaces, after we have spoken, in detail, of the single ones, one must now investigate how the surfaces joined together appear. The single surfaces, as we have taught – filled with respective colors and with lights – certainly avail of a pyramid of their own. That is why, as the bodies are covered with surfaces, all the observed measures of bodies, namely the surfaces, form a single pyramid loaded with so many small pyramids, as many as are the surfaces embraced by the rays from that viewpoint. These [objects] being so, someone nevertheless will ask: for the purpose of painting, what advantage would such an investigation bring to the painter?(66) In order that he understands, of course, that he will surely become an excellent artist if he will have shown to perfection the separations and the proportions of the surfaces, a [notion] that very few have fully learned.(67) If, in fact, one asks them what they are trying to do on that surface they are painting, for what concerns all things they can reply more correctly than what they would desire in such circumstances.(68) Wherefore I implore the diligent painters to pay attention to us. It was never a shame to learn from any teacher those [notions] that in any case will be convenient to know. And precisely, let them learn with no doubt that when they surround a surface with lines or fill defined spaces with colors, they seek to represent on this single surface nothing more than many different forms of surfaces. Not otherwise than as if this [surface], which they cover with color, were completely of glass or transparent,(69) in such a way that, having to observe real bodies, the whole visual pyramid penetrates it according to a certain distance and according to a certain disposition of the centric ray and of the light, once [that we have] established the respective positions, at a distance in space.(70) (Fig. 45a) That this truly happens this way, the painters demonstrate in the moment in

which they move away from what they paint and place themselves further back [from the painting] to look for the apex of this pyramid itself, guided by Nature,(71) from where they perceive that everything is more correctly judged and measured. (Fig. 45b) But since this surface coincides with the single one either of a panel or of a wall on which the painter tries to represent the multiple and different surfaces and pyramids included in a single pyramid,(72) (Fig. 46) it will be necessary that this visual pyramid be cut somewhere, so that the painter expresses here, by means of lines and by painting, the edges and the colors – exactly like those – that the intersection will have produced.(73) The question being so, those who observe a painted surface see a certain cut of the pyramid. A painting therefore will be the intersection of the visual pyramid according to a given distance after having set the center and established the lights, [an intersection] reproduced with art by means of lines and colors on the given surface. 13But because we have also stated that the painting is the intersection of a pyramid, for that reason all [the objects] – from which all parts of a cut become well known to us – must be investigated. Consequently, we must introduce a very new discussion about the surfaces from which it has been demonstrated that the pyramids to be intersected produce painting.(74) (Fig. 47) Some surfaces lie down stretched out like floors of buildings, and certain ones are distant in a uniform way from a pavement. Others lean upon a side, as for example are the walls and [the] remaining surfaces collinear to them.(75) (Fig. 48) One says, then, that the surfaces are distant in a uniform way from each other when the intervening distance between them is the same as [that] between any of their points. Collinear surfaces are those on which the same straight line, carried through any of their parts, touches uniformly, as are the surfaces of square pilasters that stand in rectilinear succession along a porch. It is necessary to add these [things] to those that we have said before about surfaces. To those [things], then, that we have said about rays, not only external but also median, and about the centric [ray], and above all about the visual pyramid, (Fig. 49) it is necessary to add that proposition of mathematicians from which one demonstrates that if a straight line intersects two sides of some triangle, and this very line that cuts and lastly creates a triangle is equidistant from one of the two lines of the first triangle, the greater [triangle] will then certainly be proportional to this minor one because of the sides.(76) These [things] mathematicians say.

14But in order to make our presentation clearer to the painters, we will dwell a little longer on the matter. At this point, one must know what “proportional” is for us. (Fig. 50) We say that the triangles, the sides and angles of which preserve exactly the same relationship among themselves, are proportional; that is why, if one of the two sides of a triangle is two and a half times greater in length than the base, and the other is three times, (Fig. 51) all such triangles,(77) whether they are surely greater than this or smaller, will be proportional to each other provided that they have, so to speak, the same ratio of sides in relation to the base. The ratio, in fact, that arises in a greater triangle, of one part of it with respect to another part, will turn out to be the same in a smaller triangle; therefore, triangles that result in this way will be called, for us, all proportional to each other. (Fig. 52a) In order to understand this in a clearer way also, we shall turn to a certain comparison. A very small man is certainly proportional to a bigger one in relation to the cubit,(78) when the proportion of the palm and of the foot in relation to the remaining parts of one’s own body will have been in this [smaller individual] – consider in Evander – the same [proportion] which was in that [bigger individual], for example, in Hercules,(79) whom Gellius imagines to have been tall and large above other men,(80) (Fig. 52b) whereas the proportion in Hercules’ limbs was not different from that [which] would have been in the body of the giant Antaeus,(81) when, in fact, in each of the two, the correspondence of the hand as to the cubit and of the cubit as to one’s own head, and generally of all other limbs, coincided because of the equal dimensioning from one to another.(82) Thus, this exact [condition] will occur in our triangles, in a way that a certain correspondence would exist among the triangles by means of which a smaller [triangle] agrees with a greater one in all remaining aspects, except for the size. (Fig. 53) If these [notions] are now sufficiently understood, we are in a position to evaluate how much the thought of the mathematicians leads us toward our purpose: that every intersection equidistant from the base of some triangle creates a triangle similar, as those say, to that proper greater triangle, in the way that for us [is] in reality proportional.(83) In [objects], in fact, that are proportional among themselves, in these all the parts correspond. In those, instead, where the parts present themselves as different and not congruent, these are not by any means proportional.

15(Fig. 55a) The parts of a visual triangle, besides the lines, are the rays themselves as well,(84) which in proportional quantities of a painting to be evaluated according to a number will certainly be comparable to the real ones, whereas in the nonproportional ones they will not be comparable to them.(85) A quantity, in fact, between two of these nonproportional quantities, will involve either longer or shorter rays.(86) You have known, then, in which way a smaller triangle is said to be proportional to a greater one, and keep in mind that the visual pyramid is formed by triangles. (Fig. 55b) Let then our every single argument made in respect to triangles be transferred to the pyramid. And let it be certain to us, in fact, that not one of the quantities of a seen surface, which are equidistant from the cut, generates in painting any distortion whatsoever, because those equidistant quantities are undoubtedly proportional, in every equidistant cut, to their corresponding ones.(87) (Fig. 56) As the question is so, it follows that [if] the quantities from which an area is defined, or with which an edge is measured are not deformed, no deformation of the edge occurs in the painting, or, rather, (Fig. 57) it turns out clearly that every cut of a visual pyramid equidistant from a seen surface is proportional to the observed surface. 16We have spoken of the proportional surfaces at the cut, that is, equidistant from the painted surface. (Fig. 58) But since there are very many surfaces not equidistant, we must investigate them diligently with the purpose of illustrating every kind of cut. It would actually be long, quite difficult, and arduous in these cuts of triangles and of a pyramid to obtain everything from the method of the mathematicians.(88) Hence, as it is our habit, let us proceed in speaking as painters. 17Let us very briefly report some [notions] about the nonequidistant quantities; after having learned them, full understanding of a nonequidistant surface will be easy. Some nonequidistant quantities are collinear to the visual rays; (Fig. 59) others [quantities] are equidistant to some visual rays. (Fig. 60) Since quantities collinear to the rays do not form a triangle and do not utilize a series of rays, they do not attain, therefore, any extension with the cut. (Fig. 61) But in the quantities equidistant from the visual rays, the more obtuse is the angle to the base of the triangle, the more that quantity will receive fewer rays, and therefore it will obtain less space with the cut. (89) We have said that a surface is delimited by the measures, but because it does not happen infrequently that some measure equidistant to the cut is on

the surfaces, whereas the remaining measures of the same surface are not equidistant, for this reason it occurs that only these measures, which are equidistant on the surface, do not undergo any deformation in the painting. On the contrary, the more the measures that are not equidistant will be deformed, the more obtuse they will have the angle that in the triangle is greater at the base. 18(Fig. 63) To all these [notions] one must finally add that famous philosophers’ thesis according to which they affirm that if the sky, the stars, the seas, the mountains, the creatures themselves, and then all the objects were to be made, the gods willing, smaller than half-size of what they are, (90) everything seen would appear to us in no way diminished compared to what it is now. Because, in fact, to be large, small, long, short, high, low, narrow, wide, obscure, dark, and all things of this kind could or [could] not be present in things, philosophers have named them incidentals. [These] are such that every full understanding of them occurs through comparison. Virgil has said that Aeneas stood tall with [his] whole shoulders above men, but if he was compared to Polyphemus, he would have appeared a pygmy. One recalls that Euryalus was very handsome, but if he was compared to Ganymede, who was abducted by a god, perhaps he would have appeared deformed.(91) The Spaniards consider a great number of maidens white whom the Germans regard as swarthy and darkcolored. Ivory and silver are white, but if compared to a swan or to snow-white linen cloths, they appear somewhat pallid. For this reason the surfaces in a painting certainly appear very clear and very bright when the same proportion occurs there between black and white as [occurs] in the objects themselves, of an illuminated thing compared with a shaded one. All these things, then, are found out by comparison. In comparing therefore the objects, there is certainly such a power as to make us conscious of what is more, less, and equal. Consequently, we say what is great is greater than this small [object], very great what is greater than this great object, lucid what is clearer than a dark [object], and very lucid what is more lucid than this clear object. Certainly, let comparison be made, first of all, among the best-known things. (Fig. 64) But since the human figure, of all [objects], is the best known to man, perhaps Protagoras, in saying that man is the model and the measure of all things, meant precisely this: that the incidentals of all [objects] are correctly measured and are known by man’s [own] incidentals.(92) These [notions] aim at making [us] understand that however small, or even smaller, you will

have drawn bodies in a painting, by comparison with a man represented there, they appear larger or diminutive. It seems to me that, among all ancients, Timanthes had certainly expressed this power of comparison in an excellent way; this painter, as they say, in painting a sleeping cyclops on a small panel, realized next [to him] the satyrs, who were embracing the thumb of the sleeper, so that, from that comparison with the satyrs, the sleeper was to appear far larger.(93) 19Up to this point, almost all [things] that have been said by us concern the visual action or the knowledge of the cut.(94) But since the matter pertains not only to what the cut is and to those [things] of which it is formed but also to how it is realized, of this cut it must said according to what technique it is expressed through painting. Therefore, all other things about it left aside, I will say what I myself do when I paint. (Fig. 65a) First I trace as large a quadrangle as I wish, with right angles,(95) on the surface to be painted; in this place, it [the rectangular quadrangle] certainly functions for me as an open window through which the historia is observed, (Fig. 65b) and there I determine how big I want men in the painting to be, (Fig. 65c) and I divide the height of this very man into three parts that for me are certainly proportional to the measure that people call braccio. That [measure] of the three braccia, in fact, as it results from the symmetry of the limbs of a man, is precisely the height of a normal human body. (Fig. 65d) According to this measure, then, I divide the base line of the drawn [rectangular] quadrangle into as many parts of this kind as [the line] contains. (Fig. 66) Moreover, for me this very same base line of the [rectangular] quadrangle is certainly proportional to the nearest transverse and equidistant quantity seen on the pavement. After these [steps], I place only one point inside the [rectangular] quadrangle. In that place let there be the [point of] sight;(96) for me, that point, as it occupies the place itself toward which the centric ray strikes, let it, therefore, be called the centric point. The appropriate position of this centric point is not to be higher from the base line than the height of that man to be painted. On this condition, in fact, both the observers and the painted things appear to be on a uniform plane. (Fig. 67) Having placed the centric point, I draw straight lines from the centric point itself to the single subdivisions of the base line, which lines certainly show me how the transverse quantities narrow down to sight, if I wish to advance by interval, up to an almost infinite distance. (Fig. 68a) At this point, there would be some who would trace in the [rectangular]

quadrangle a line equidistant from the subdivided one, and would subdivide the space between the two lines into three parts. (Fig. 68b) They would add, then, to this second equidistant line also another equidistant one, conforming to this principle: that the space subdivided into three parts, which is found between the first subdivided line and the second equidistant line, exceeds by one of its parts the space that is between the second and the third line; (Fig. 68c) then, they would successively add the remaining lines in such a way that the succeeding space between the lines would always be subsesquialter [i.e., contained one and a half times], speaking in mathematical terms, in respect to the one that comes before.(97) Those [individuals], therefore, would certainly operate in this way, and although they affirm [that they] follow such an excellent way of painting, I yet consider that [these] same [individuals] make a serious mistake, because, after having placed the first equidistant line at random, though the remaining equidistant lines follow logic and a method, (Fig. 69a) they do not know, however, where the preestablished place of the apex [of the pyramid] is found for correct viewing. From this easily originate not small mistakes in a painting. Let us add to these things that (Fig. 69b) the process of such [individuals] would be greatly invalidated if the centric point were to be found either above or below the height of the depicted man, since no expert will deny that (Fig. 69c) the painted objects cannot be seen as conforming to the real ones unless they are distant according to a very precise relationship. (Fig. 70) Of this occurrence, we shall give an account if we should ever write on these demonstrations that we have performed, which friends, in marveling, have given the name miracles of painting. These [things] that I have said, in fact, are all very much pertaining to this exact subject. Let us then go back to what we proposed. 20[Conditions] being so, I have, therefore, found by myself this excellent method. In all other [conditions], I follow that same process of the centric point and the base line, and the tracing of lines from the point to the single subdivisions of the base line. But in [drawing] transverse quantities I observe this method. (Fig. 71a) I have a small surface on which I trace one straight line alone,(98) which I divide into those parts according to which the base line of the [rectangular] quadrangle has been divided. (Fig. 71b) Hence, I place a single point above, in respect to this line, as far up as the centric point in the [rectangular] quadrangle is distant from the subdivided base line,(99) and from this point I trace the single lines to the single

subdivisions of this exact line. (Fig. 71c) I then establish how much I want the distance between the observer’s eye and the painting to be; and, having fixed there the position of the cut, I obtain, by means of a perpendicular line, as mathematicians say, the cut of all lines that this [perpendicular] will have met. That line, which in dividing another straight line forms right angles on one side and on the other around itself, certainly is perpendicular. (Fig. 71d) This perpendicular line, then, will give me, through its subdivisions, the limits of every distance that must occur among the transverse equidistant lines of the pavement; on this condition, I have it that all parallels of the pavement are represented. (Fig. 72a) An indication of how these [parallels] have been drawn in a correct way will appear when one single and same extended straight line becomes the diagonal of the connected quadrangles in the depicted pavement. The diagonal of a quadrangle is indeed, for mathematicians, a certain straight line carried from an angle to its opposite [angle], which divides the quadrangle into two parts so as to make two triangles from the quadrangle. After having done these things to perfection, in a comparable way (Fig. 72b) I trace one single transverse line parallel to the remaining ones below, which intersects the two vertical sides of the large squaring [of the window] and passes through the centric point.(100) This line constitutes for me, without doubt, the termination or rather the limit that no measure – higher than the observer’s eye – exceeds. And because it passes through the centric point, let therefore it be called the centric [line]. It follows that [the] depicted men, who were to be standing on a parallel farther away – however much smaller the same [men] may be than those placed on the nearer parallel – nevertheless, they do not appear smaller in respect to the others, but farther away; it is evident that this phenomenon is clearly revealed this way by Nature herself. We see, in fact, in temples that the heads of men who move sway high at about the same height, while the feet of those [men] who are placed farther away perhaps correspond to the knees of those [men] who precede [them].(101) 21This whole procedure of subdividing the pavement pertains in particular to that part of painting that, in its place, we shall call composition. And [the procedure] is such that I fear, because of the novelty of the subject and of this brevity of comment, that [it is] little understood by readers. As we may easily see from the works of the past, the same [procedure] perhaps has remained totally unknown to our elders because it was obscure and most difficult. You will hardly find, in fact, that any

historia by the men of the past, be it painted, modeled, or sculpted, is composed to perfection. 22For what concerns this process, these things have been told by me in a brief, and as I think, not completely obscure way. But I realize of what sort they are; so that, whenever I fail to deserve any praise [for] eloquence, then he who will have failed to understand immediately will sometimes with difficulty learn the same things, with a certain or great effort.(102) But for the sharpest minds [that are] well disposed toward painting, these things are very easy and really very beautiful in any way they are explained; yet they are utterly useless to the inept little disposed by nature toward these very noble arts, even if narrated by excellent writers. Indeed, since the same things have been presented by us very briefly, devoid of any rhetoric, perhaps they are read not without discomfort. But I would wish that one be indulgent toward us if by desiring to be, above all, understood, I have proceeded in such a way as to have our exposition clear rather than elegant and richly ornate. The things that now will follow will cause, I hope, less tedium to readers. 23We have spoken then of triangles, of the pyramid, of the cut – [notions] that had to be explained. I have acquired the habit, however, of showing these things in more detail among friends: why, given a certain geometrical relationship, those [subjects] could be verified in the way indicated. I have resolved to leave this out in these commentaries for the sake of brevity. Here I have examined, in fact, the first rudiments alone of the art of painting. We also want them to be called on that account rudiments because they would freely offer the first foundations of art to inexperienced painters. But they are such that he who will have understood them well, will recognize that they have been very useful not only to the mind but also for understanding the definition of painting, as well as [useful for] the things which we have to speak about. And let one have no doubt that he who attempts to depict objects without a deep understanding of them will never become a good painter. One draws the bow in vain, in fact, if you have not established where to direct the arrow. Furthermore, I would like that we be convinced, among ourselves, in fact, that he alone who will have learned impeccably not only the edges but also all properties of surfaces will become an excellent painter. Otherwise, I state that he who will not have mastered in a very diligent way all [the] things which we have spoken of will never be a good artist.

24Thus these [things] said about surfaces and the cut have been indispensable for us. It follows that we prepare the painter on how he can imitate by hand objects he has conceived with the mind.

Book Two The Picture 1 And indeed, since this effort of learning may seem perhaps too tiring to the young, for this reason I consider, at this point, that one must show how much painting, in which we employ every care and diligence, is not unworthy. In fact, painting certainly has in itself a truly divine power, not only because, as they say of friendship, a painting lets the absent be present, but also because it shows [to] the living, after long centuries, the dead, so that [these] become recognized with the artist’s great admiration and the viewers’ pleasure. Plutarch(1) reports that Cassandrus, one of Alexander’s generals, trembled with [his] whole body because he saw a portrait of Alexander already deceased, in which he recognized the majesty of his king, and that [the] Lacedaemonian Agesilaus, because he knew that he was completely deformed, had refused to make known to posterity his image, and that for this reason he had wished neither to be portrayed nor modeled by anyone.(2) Therefore, the faces of the dead, thanks to painting, have in a certain way a very long life. That painting, in truth, has described the gods, which the people worship, one must consider it as the greatest gift bestowed upon mortals. Painting, in fact, has been enormously useful to religious sentiment – through which we are joined in a particular way to the gods – and to preserve minds with a certain intact devotion. One says that Phidias had realized in Elis a [statue of] Jupiter whose beauty added not little to religious calling.(3) How great, then, is the contribution of painting to the very honest pleasures of the mind and, in general, to the beauty of things; one can value it not only in other ways but also and above all from this: that usually you will give nothing more precious than that which the involvement of painting does not render still more precious and of very great value. Ivory, gems, and all precious things of this kind in the painter’s hands become more precious. Also gold itself, elaborated by the art of painting, comes to be repaid with very much more gold. Better still, lead, the lowest-priced of metals, if it was roughly hewn by the hands of Phidias or Praxiteles into some effigy, would [be regarded] perhaps [as] more precious than raw and generally unworked silver.(4) The painter Zeuxis had

begun to donate his works because, as he said, they could not be purchased at a price.(5) He thought, in fact, that there did not exist any price to recompense [the one] who, in painting or in modeling living beings, almost behaved himself as a second god among the mortals.(6) 2 Painting possesses, therefore, these merits: that the well prepared in it not only see their own works admired but also know that they are very similar almost to a god. What will I say of the fact that it is the master or the ornament, undoubtedly exceptional, of all the arts? Only from the painter himself, if I make no mistake, the architect took in fact the architraves, the capitals, the bases, the columns, the pediments, and all other similar ornaments of the edifices. The stonemason, the sculptor, as all the artisan workshops, [and] as all the manual arts are certainly guided by rules and by the art of the painter. In short, one will find almost no art, however very humble, that does not involve painting, so that any beautiful thing there is in objects I claim is taken from painting. But painting had been honored by the ancients above all with this distinction: that whereas almost all other craftsmen were called artisans, only the painter was not included in the number of the artisans. Things being so, I have taken the habit of saying, among friends, that (Fig. 73a) the inventor of painting was, according to the opinion of poets, that [famous] Narcissus who was transformed into a flower.(7) As the painting is in fact the flower of all the arts, thus the whole tale of Narcissus perfectly adapts to the topic itself. (Fig. 73b) To paint, in fact, is what else if not to catch with art that surface of the spring? Quintilian maintained that the ancient painters had the habit of drawing the edges of the shadows generated by the sun and that eventually art improved through a process of additions. Some report that among the first inventors of this art there was a certain Egyptian Philocles and a Cleanthes; I do not know which one.(8) The Egyptians affirm that painting was already practiced among them six thousand years before it was introduced into Greece.(9) In particular, our [writers] say that painting came from Greece to Italy after the victories of Marcellus in Sicily.(10) But it is not of much interest to record either the first painters or the inventors of painting since we are not displaying, like Pliny, a history of painting, but an art in a completely new way. On this, in our days, no documentation of ancient writers, as much as I know, remains any longer, although they say that Euphranor, the Isthmian, wrote something about symmetry and on colors

and that Antigonus and Xenocrates put in writing some things about paintings, and that also Apelles composed something on painting for Perseus. Diogenes Laertius reports that also the philosopher Demetrius wrote about painting.(11) Moreover, since all the praiseworthy arts have been passed on by our ancestors by means of written documents, I maintain that also painting had not been neglected in Italy by our writers. In Italy, the very ancient Etruscans, were certainly, in fact, the most expert of all in the art of painting.(12) 3 Trismegistus, a very ancient writer, maintains that painting and sculpture were born together with religion;(13) thus, in fact, he turns to Asclepius: humankind, mindful of nature and [of] its own origins, represented the gods in the resemblance of its own face. And who will deny that in all matters, not only public but also private, profane, and religious, painting has claimed the parts most worthy of esteem? So that I do not find any craft, among mortals, so appreciated by all. One tells of almost unbelievable recompenses for painted panels. Aristides the Theban sold a single picture for one hundred talents.(14) One says that the king Demetrius did not burn down Rhodes in order to avoid destroying a panel by Protogenes.(15) We can affirm therefore that Rhodes was saved from [its] enemies thanks to a single picture. In addition to this, many other things of this kind have been collected, from which one could adequately understand that the good painters have always been held in very great consideration and esteem by all, so that even very noble and, generally, very competent citizens, along with philosophers and kings, took enormous pleasure not only from painted things but also by practicing painting. Lucius Manilius, a Roman citizen, and Fabius, a very celebrated man in Rome, were painters.(16) Turpilius, a Roman knight, painted in Verona. The former praetor and proconsul Sitedius became famous by painting.(17) The tragic poet Pacuvius, grandson of the poet Ennius in relation to his daughter, depicted Hercules in the forum.(18) The philosophers Socrates, Plato, Metrodorus, and Pyrrho acquired the fame of painters. The emperors Nero, Valentinian, and Alexander Severus were very passionate about painting.(19) It would take a long time to recite how many princes or kings have dedicated themselves to this very noble art. There is no need, also, to list quite all the multitude of the ancient painters; one can imagine how [great] that it has been from this:

that for Demetrius Phalereus, the son of Phanostratus, were realized, in about four hundred days, three hundred and sixty statues, some on horseback and others on carts and chariots.(20) But in that city in which the number of sculptors was so great, will we not also question whether the painters were few? Painting and sculpture are certainly related arts, nourished by the same genius. However, I will always prefer the genius of the painter because he applies himself to an extremely difficult thing. But let us return to the matter. 4 The number of painters and sculptors was certainly very great in those times, since princes, common people, [the] learned and illiterate delighted in painting. Meanwhile, between the first spoils from the provinces, the ensigns, and the paintings themselves displayed in theaters, one arrived [at] such a point that Paulus Emilius and, in general, not a few Roman citizens taught [their] sons painting among praiseworthy arts, to the aim of having a pleasant and felicitous life.(21) The best custom, that was held in very great consideration among the Greeks, so that the adolescents, born free and freely educated, were taught, together with letters, geometry, and music, also the art of painting.(22) Nevertheless, also for women this capacity of painting was reserved as an honor. Martia, daughter of Varro, is celebrated by writers because she painted.(23) And certainly, painting was so praised and honored that among the Greeks slaves were prohibited by an edict from learning it; certainly, this is not unjust. The art of painting, in fact, is certainly very worthy of free and most noble minds;(24) and for me, in general, it has always been the best indication of that optimum and excellent genius, he whom I would see take strong delight through painting. Moreover, only this art, is equally agreeable both to the learned and the uncultured, something that does not occur in almost any other art, as it is true that it attracts the experts and it is also good to move the unskilled. Nor will you easily find someone who does not wish to progress to greater measure in painting. And, finally, it is obvious that Nature herself shows pleasure in painting. We often see, in fact, that [Nature] makes in marbles hippo-centaurs and bearded faces of kings. Or rather, they say also that in a gem of Pyrrhus the nine Muses, with their attributes, were distinctly depicted from Nature herself.(25) Add to this that perhaps there is not any art, in learning and in general practicing it, where every generation dedicates itself with so much involvement both by experts and the

unskilled. Let me consent to speak of myself. If at times for inclination and in general for pleasure I prepare to paint, [an activity] that I do not do really very often, when I am free from other duties, I apply [myself to it] with so much love in carrying out the work that I can scarcely believe how, at the end, three and even four hours have passed. 5 So this art reaps delight throughout the time that you will have practiced it; praise, riches, and perpetual fame in general, when you will have cultivated it well. The situation being so, since painting is the best and very ancient ornament of things, worthy of free men, pleasing to the learned and to the uncultured, I encourage in greater measure the diligent young, as far as it is possible, to dedicate themselves to it. Soon after, I urge those, who are very zealous in painting, to try with every means and diligence to render perfect the art itself of painting. Let you, who set off to excel in painting, take care, first of all, of the name and the fame that you know the ancients have attained. It will also delight [us] certainly to remember that avarice has always been the opponent of praise and virtue. It is rare, in fact, that the mind, intent on gain, obtains the fruit of posterity. And indeed I have seen many in the blossom itself, so to say, of the best learning, lowering [themselves] on the spot to gain(26) and then obtain neither praise nor riches. If these had cultivated talent with study, they would easily be elevated to glory; in this case, they would have obtained both riches and pleasure. And so one has said enough on these [topics]. Let us return to [our] undertaking. 6 We divide painting into three parts; subdivision that we certainly know from Nature herself. Since painting, in fact, aspires to represent the objects seen, let us note in what way they themselves come to sight. First of all, when we watch an [object], we certainly see that there is something that occupies a place. The painter will define, then, the extent of this place and will call a similar process of tracing the edge with the appropriate term of the drawing of the profiles. Soon after, observing, we realize that the multiple surfaces of a seen object correspond among themselves, and the artist will rightly summon these connections of the surfaces, in tracing them in the appropriate places, calling it composition. At last, examining, we recognize more distinctly the colors of the surfaces; the representation of this phenomenon in painting will be named, according to us, in a very

appropriate way, reception of light, since it receives by the light [sources] almost all differences. 7 Painting is realized therefore through the drawing of profiles, composition, and the reception of light. From this [it] follows, then, that we must now talk about these in the briefest possible way, and firstly about the drawing of profiles. Certainly, the drawing of profiles is that which in a painting circumscribes the trace of the edges through lines. It is given that in this the painter Parrhasius, he with whom, in Xenophon, there is a dialogue of Socrates, was very expert. They say, in fact, that that wellknown [painter] has used the lines in a very subtle way.(27) Without doubt, in this drawing of profiles, I maintain that one needs to be careful of this: that it [a drawing] is made with lines above all in the subtlest possible way and in general quite evasive to sight; they say that the painter Apelles was accustomed to practicing [lines] of such kind and that he competed with Protogenes.(28) And because the drawing of the profiles is nothing but the delineation of edges, if in reality this is made by means of a greatly accentuated line, the borders of surfaces will not appear in the painting if not as demarcations. No other [object], then, except the trace of the edges, would I like to attain with the drawing of the profiles, in which, I state, one needs to strongly practice. One will not be able to praise, in fact, any composition and, in general, any reception of lights without the drawing of profiles having been employed. On the contrary, only the drawing of profiles is for the most part very agreeable. Let it, therefore, be that one takes care in the drawing of profiles; for the attainment of which in the best way, I think, one cannot find anything more convenient than that veil, that I myself, among my friends, usually call cut, whose use I now discovered for the first time.(29) It is of this kind: (Fig. 74) a veil woven of very thin threads and loosely intertwined, dyed with any color, subdivided with thicker threads according to parallel partitions, in as many squares as you like, and held stretched by a frame; which [veil] I place, indeed, between the object to be represented and the eye, so that the visual pyramid penetrates through the thinness of the veil. This cut of the veil, in fact, certainly offers no few opportunities, first of all because it always presents the same surfaces unchanged. After having established the limits, in fact, you will find there and then the original apex of the pyramid, a thing which is really very difficult [to find] without a cut. And you have learned, in

painting something, how it is impossible to correctly imitate what does not, without interruption, maintain the same aspect of itself toward him who paints.(30) Hence it follows that things depicted by others are more easily imitable than those sculpted, because [the depicted] always conserve the same aspect. You have understood then, how changed the distance and, in general, the position of the centric ray are; the seen object itself appears to be altered. (Fig. 75a) And so, the veil will guarantee this not negligible advantage which I have spoken of: that the object always stays the same with respect to the view. (Fig. 75b) A further advantage consists of the fact that in a panel to be painted, the positions of the edges and the limits of the surfaces can easily be established in very precise locations. In fact, when you observed over here in a parallel the forehead, in the very next the nose, in the near one the cheeks, in the lower the chin, and all things of that kind, situated in their own places, in the same way there, you will have placed in the best manner all the things on a panel or on a wall, also subdivided by corresponding parallels.(31) This same veil, finally, is of very great help in perfecting a picture, since, in this plane of the veil, you perceive, delineated and depicted, an object itself prominent and swollen. From these things, we can sufficiently understand through reasoning as well as experimentation what great advantages the veil provides for easy and correct painting.(32) 8 And I will not listen to those who say that it is of very little use to the painter to accustom himself to these things, which, if they also bring very great help in painting, are nevertheless such that, without them, the artist would do scarcely anything by himself. In any case, we do not claim from the painter, if I make no mistake, an infinite labor, but we expect that a painting appears as much as possible in relief and similar to the given bodies, [an objective] that, indeed, I do not well know to what condition, without the support of the veil, someone could ever reach even in a mediocre way. Therefore, let those who wish to progress in painting make use of this cut, that is, of the veil, as I said. (Fig. 76) And if one wishes to practice talent without the veil, let them obtain this very calculation of parallels through sight, so that one always imagines a horizontal line cut by a second perpendicular, where they establish in the painting the observed limit. But since the edges of the surfaces are to the inexpert painters most often vague and uncertain, as for example in portraits, those who are not able to calculate in which place the temples divide particularly from the

forehead must therefore be instructed through what reasoning they obtain this knowledge of reality. This Nature displays, without doubt, in a clear way. (Fig. 77) When we observe on plane surfaces, in fact, that they are recognizable through their own light and shadows, thus also in spherical and concave surfaces we perceive that the same are reduced by squaring, so to speak, in multiple surfaces because of different shapes of shadows and light. One by one, therefore, the parts that differ by light and darkness must be treated as single surfaces. And if a seen surface will have gradually changed from a darkened color toward a bright one, then one needs to indicate with a line the median position between the one and the other space in order that the calculation of the whole area to color is less uncertain. 9 It remains to say something more about the drawing of profiles that certainly relates no less also to composition; one does not need therefore to ignore what composition is in a painting. Composition, however, is that procedure of depicting according to which the parts are arranged in a work of painting. A very great achievement of the painter is the historia; parts of the historia are the bodies, part of a body a member, part of a member the surface. Because the drawing of profiles is, in effect, the painting procedure with which the edges are assigned to each one of the surfaces and because some surfaces are small, as [those] of living beings, [and] others very great, as [those] of buildings and of colossal [objects],(33) in delimiting the small surfaces, the principles till now displayed can suffice. It has been shown, in fact, that we estimate excellently the same [principles] through the veil. In drawing, therefore, the profiles of the greater surfaces, one needs to find a new procedure. On this subject, one must keep in mind all the things that first, within rudiments, have been said by us on the surfaces, on the rays, on the pyramid, and on the cut. Finally, you remember the things that I have discussed on the parallels of the pavement and on the centric point and furthermore on the line.(34) (Fig. 78a) On the pavement, therefore, represented by parallels, one needs to construct the wings of the walls and whatever surfaces of this kind that we have called surfaces that lean upon [a side].(35) I will briefly say, therefore, what I myself do in this construction. First, I begin from the foundations themselves. I determine, in fact, on the pavement the length and the width of the walls; which in representation I have observed this, without doubt, from Nature: that (Fig. 78b) of any body squared with right angles, one cannot see, with a single glance, in relation

to the ground, more than two joined surfaces that lean upon [a side].(36) Therefore, in representing the foundations of the walls, I try to grasp only the sides that appear to sight. And in general I always first start from the surfaces nearer, above all, from those that are parallel to the cut. I delimit however these [latter] before the others, and what I want the length and width to be, of these [surfaces] themselves, I establish through the very parallels drawn on the pavement. As many of these braccia, in fact, I want [there] to be, I take as many parallels. In particular, I obtain a middle point of the parallels from the mutual intersection of one and the other diagonals. With this measurement of parallels, therefore, I draw in the best way a middle point, the width and length of the things that rise from the ground. (37) (Fig. 79) Hence, then, I also reach the height of the surfaces not in a very difficult way. That whole quantity, in fact, which is the measurement between the centric line and that place of the pavement, whence the mass of an edifice rises, will maintain the same dimension. That is why, if one wants that such quantity, starting from the ground to the top, be four times the height of the depicted man, and the centric line will have been placed at the height of the man, certainly then three will be the braccia of the quantity, from the low extremity up to the centric line. You who really wish to increase that quantity up to twelve braccia will go upward three times the quantity that there is from the centric line to the lower extremity of the quantity. From these pictorial procedures that we have described we are able, thus, to draw correctly all the surfaces made by angles. 10 It remains to say how one draws, by means of suitable profiles, the circular surfaces. (Fig. 80a) The circul surfaces are certainly extracted from the angular [ones]. This [operation] I do in this way. I delimit a small area by means of an equilateral quadrangle at right angles, and I divide the sides of this quadrangle into parts similar to those in which the lower line of the [rectangular] quadrangle in the painting has been divided. And conducting lines from the single points to their opposite [points] of the divisions, I fill the area with small [rectangular] quadrangles;(38) and there I draw a circle, the size I want, so that the circle and the parallels intersect each other reciprocally. And I note suitably all the points of the intersections, positions that I mark in the proper parallels of the pavement depicted in the painting. But since (Fig. 80b) it would be an extreme labor to subdivide in minute and almost infinite parallels a whole circle by means of many marks, until

obtaining with a numerous marking of points the profile of the circle, for this reason, (Fig. 81) as soon as I will have noted eight or how many intersections one will want, by painting then with diligence, I myself trace the path of the circle in conformity to the indicated limits themselves.(39) (Fig. 83) Perhaps the route would be shorter by tracing this profile according to the shadow of a lamp, provided [that] the body that generates shadow receives the light in accordance to a certain calculation and is inserted in the proper place. We have said, therefore, how through the help of parallels one traces the bigger surfaces made by angles and the circular ones. Therefore, having finished every single drawing of the profiles, one needs to speak of the composition. It is necessary to repeat what the composition is. 11 The composition is, on the other hand, that procedure of painting whereby, in a work of painting, the parts are composed. The very great achievement of a painter is not a colossus, but the historia; the praise of genius is, in fact, greater in a historia than in a colossus.(40) Parts of a historia [are] the bodies; part of a body is a member; part of a member is the surface. The first parts of a work [are], therefore, the surfaces, because from these are formed the members, from the members the bodies, [and] from the bodies the historia from which surely one obtains that outstanding and perfect work of the painter. (Fig. 84) From the composition of surfaces arises that exquisite harmony and grace in bodies, which they call beauty. In fact, that face, which would have some large surfaces, others small, there prominent, here excessively recessed from within and hollow, as we see in the faces of little old women, will be ugly to look at. But in the face in which the surfaces will be joined so that pleasing lights flow down into gentle shadows and so that not any roughness of angles appears, rightly we will call this face beautiful and graceful. In this composition of surfaces, therefore, one must look for, above all, grace and beauty. But [if] in some way we can achieve this, it does not seem to me that there is any other way at all surer than to admire Nature herself and, in general, to examine for a long time and very attentively in what manner Nature, extraordinary master of things, has arranged the surfaces on beautiful members. In imitating it [Nature], one needs to employ every attention and care and to strongly make use, as we have said, of the veil. And when we wish to realize surfaces in a work, which come from very

beautiful bodies, let us always determine previously the limits wherein to direct the lines according to a definite place. 12 Up to this point [we have spoken] of the composition of the surfaces. It remains to report on the composition of the members. Within the composition of the members one needs above all to strive so that each [member] is connected with the others. And certainly one says that they accord beautifully when, in relation to size, to task, to species, to colors, and to all other things, if there are some things of this kind, [the members] correspond until [they get] to grace and beauty.(41) That is why, if in some portraits the head presents itself very large, the chest very small, the hand very broad, the foot swollen, the body stout, such a composition will certainly be deformed to sight. (Fig. 85) With regard to the size, therefore, one must observe a certain ratio, which in calculation it is certainly useful, in painting living beings, to screen out at first, by skill, the bones. These, in fact, because they bend very little, always occupy some determined position. It is necessary, then, that the nerves and muscles adhere to appropriate places.(42) And [it is necessary] then, in the end, to treat with flesh and with skin, the bones and the muscles, reclothed. But at this point there will be perhaps certain ones who contest what I said before: the things that are not visible, are of no interest at all to the painter. Without doubt, these [are] right; but as in dressing one first needs to know the nude, which we then envelop encircling it with clothes, so in painting it [i.e., the nude] one needs first to arrange the bones and the muscles that you will cover moderately with flesh and skin in such a way that it is not difficult to sense in which position the muscles are found. Moreover, as Nature herself displays to the common good all these proportions arranged well, so the diligent painter will find no little usefulness in examining them through his own work from Nature herself. Let therefore the studious apply this task in such a way that the more attention and effort they will have used in examining the proportions of the members, the more they understand that they have been useful to themselves for the purpose of fixing by heart the things that they will have learned. Nevertheless, I must remember just one thing: that, in dimensioning in some way a living being, we select a member of the same being with which we measure all others. (Fig. 86) The architect Vitruvius measures the height of a man by means of feet. But I maintain it [to be] more useful if the remaining [members] are referred to the size of

the head, although I have observed this: that it is almost common among men that between the chin and the top of the head there exists the same measurement of a foot. 13 And so, having selected a single member, one needs to adjust the remaining [members] to this, so that there is not, in a whole living being, any member not proportionate to the others in length and width. One needs, then, to pay attention so that all the members execute their own task in relation to that of which one speaks. It is proper that a runner moves [his] hands not less than [his] feet. I prefer also that while a philosopher speaks, let him, in every member, display modesty of himself rather than [attitudes fit for] a gymnasium. The painter of demes represented a hoplite in a fight so that you would certainly then have said that one was sweating and a second one in the act of placing his arms down in such a way he was even panting.(43) There has also been [a painter] who has depicted Ulysses in such a way that one does not recognize in him true lunacy, but a feigned and false one.(44) (Fig. 87) One praises, among Romans, a historia, in which dead Meleager is carried and those who are close at hand seem to be afflicted and work with all members. Without doubt, in him who is dead there is not any member that appears alive: namely, that all [the members] hang down, the hands, the fingers, the neck; all descend down languidly. Briefly, all contribute to express the death of the body; [a condition] which is certainly the most difficult of all. In fact, it so concerns an excellent artist to represent in a body members completely at rest as to render them all active and doing something. In every painting, therefore, one needs to observe this: that each member performs a proper function in relation to that of which one speaks, so that not even the smallest limb is lacking a task according to circumstances, to such a point that the members of the dead appear lifeless to a hair, but indeed all [the members] of the living [appear] active. One says that a body is alive when it performs a certain movement of its own free will. Indeed, they say that there is death when the members are no longer able to sustain vital duties, namely, movement and feeling. Of the bodies, therefore, whom the painter will have wanted the images to appear alive, he will bring about, in these, that all members perform appropriate movements. But in every movement one needs to pursue grace and beauty. These movements of members, furthermore, are full of life and pleasing, in particular those that rend the air above. We have also mentioned

then that in composing the members one needs to take in consideration the species. It would in fact be very unlikely if the hands of Helen or Iphigenia appeared aged and rough; or if we assigned a young chest and a delicate neck to Nestor; or if a wrinkled forehead and legs of an athlete to Ganymede; or if to Milo, the most vigorous of all, thin and weak hips. And still, in an image in which the faces are, as they say, full and plump, it would be indecent to add arms and hands thin by emaciation. On the contrary, he who would paint Achaemenides, discovered by Aeneas on an island, with the face that Virgil reports that he had, and the remaining members did not conform to it, would be a very ridiculous and an incapable painter.(45) One needs, therefore, that all [members] are in harmony with the species. I would like, then, that, in color too they correspond among themselves. To those, in fact, who have pink faces, beautiful and white like snow, breasts and all other members dark and gloomy suit very little. 14 In the composition of members, therefore, one must retain these things on size, function, species, and colors: we have spoken enough [of them]. It is appropriate, then, that all things [are] in accordance with the dignity of the subject. In general, it is very unsuitable for a Venus or for a Minerva to be dressed with a soldier’s cloak. It would be indecent that you dress Jupiter or Mars in a woman’s clothes. The ancient painters in depicting Castor and Pollux took care, although they were seen as twins, that you could nevertheless discern in the first one the nature of fighters, and in the other agility.(46) Moreover, they also wanted that the defect of limping appeared to Vulcan under [his] clothes, so great was in those [painters] the desire that one needs to express in favor of the function, the species and dignity.(47) 15 The composition of bodies follows, in which consists all [the] ability and praise of a painter. Certainly, some things said about composition of the members concern also this composition; it is necessary, in fact, that all bodies adapt in a historia to the task and to the dimension. If you, in fact, will have painted centaurs noisily reunited at dinner, it would be absurd that in such violent turmoil someone reposes made drowsy by wine. And it would also be a mistake if men, [positioned] at equal distance [from us], [were] the ones larger than the others, as if dogs appeared the same [size] as horses in a picture. (Fig. 88) One needs, moreover, to blame no less the fact that frequently I see painted men in an edifice, as confined almost in a case,

in which they are enclosed hardly seated and obliged to stoop. Let, therefore, all the bodies adapt, in both dimension and function, to what one speaks about. 16 But a historia that you can deservedly both praise and admire will be such that it shows itself so agreeable and rich in certain stimuli [as] to attract for a long time the eyes of the instructed spectator, or even illiterate, with a certain sense of pleasure and emotion of the mind.(48) [The] first thing, in fact, that brings pleasure in a historia is richness itself and a variety of objects. As, in fact, in food and music, new and extraordinary [things] always delight, not only perhaps because of all other reasons but also and above all for the fact that they differ from those old and customary [things], so the mind feels pleasure exceedingly in every variety and abundance of objects. In painting, therefore, both the multiplicity of bodies and colors is pleasing. I will say that that historia in which old men, younger men, youths, boys, women, maidens, children, domestic animals, puppies, small birds, horses, sheep, edifices, and countries will be present in their own places is very rich. And I will appreciate every richness provided that it conforms to what one speaks about.(49) It happens, in fact, that not only the observers linger in examining objects, but that the painter’s richness also gains the consent [of the people]. I would wish that this richness be adorned not only with a certain variety, but [that it be] also solemn and mitigated by dignity and sobriety. I blame, without doubt, those painters who in some way want to appear abundant or perhaps not to have left any space empty; for this [reason], they do not follow any composition but scatter everything in a confused and illogical way. From this, the historia does not seem to follow an action but to generate confusion. Or better, perhaps, he [the painter] who will aspire above all to dignity in a historia will have to take exceedingly into consideration scarcity. As, in fact, a few number of words produces majesty in a prince, provided that the orders and observations are understood, so an appropriate number of bodies in a historia confers dignity; variety carries beauty. I hate emptiness in a historia; nevertheless, I praise very little [any] richness which opposes dignity. Indeed, in a historia I strongly approve what I see realized by writers of tragedies and comedies when they produce, as much as they are able, a drama with a few characters. In my opinion, there will certainly not be any historia expressed with such great variety of things as that which

nine or ten figures can represent in a suitable way, as I perceive that the famous thought of Varro, who, to avoid confusion in a banquet, did not admit more than nine participants, applies to this. Nevertheless, in every historia, when variety is pleasing, that painting in which expressions and movements of the bodies are very different among themselves is principally agreeable to all. (Fig. 89) Then, let some [figures] be standing, visible in whole face, with hands upward and vibrant fingers, supported on one of two feet. Let others have an opposing face;(50) and let the arms be visible hanging down and feet not connected, and to everyone their own flexions and actions. Let others be seated or rested on a bent knee or let them lie close by. (Fig. 90) And let some be nude, if thus it is convenient; let certain ones arrange themselves partly nude, partly veiled, according to a mixed technique [conforming] to each of the two [ways].(51) But let us always serve modesty and decency. And certainly let the indecent parts of a body and all those that are less graceful be covered by a cloth, or by fronds, or by a hand. (Fig. 91) Apelles painted the portrait of Antigonus only from that side of the face where the missing eye did not appear.(52) One reads also that Homer, when he awakes from sleep the shipwrecked Ulysses, makes him advance nude from the wood toward the shouting of the young girls, and that he has given to the man a branch of tree leaves as a covering of [his] obscene body parts.(53) (Fig. 92) They report that Pericles had had a long and deformed head and that, therefore, he was usually represented by painters and sculptors not with an uncovered head as others, but hidden with a helmet.(54) Plutarch reports, furthermore, that the ancient painters were accustomed, in painting kings, if there was some defect of form, not wishing it to be omitted but, as far as possible, they corrected it after having preserved the likeness.(55) I, therefore, desire that in the entire historia this modesty and decency are considered in such a way that repugnant [features] are omitted or corrected. Finally, as I said, I maintain that one needs to strive in order that one cannot see in anybody almost the same gesture or stance. 17 (Fig. 93) Then a historia will stimulate the observers’ hearts when men who were idle will display, to the highest degree, their own activity of the mind.(56) It derives from Nature, in fact – one can find nothing more covetous than her regarding [emotions] similar to ourselves – that we cry

with those who cry, we laugh with those who laugh, we grieve with those who suffer.(57) But these motions of the mind are known from movements of the body. We see, in fact, that the downcast – since they are afflicted by thoughts and exhausted by malaise – become numb totally in the senses and in powers and they linger lazily among members, pale and more than anything else unstable. In the downcast, in fact, the forehead is pressed, the neck suffering; all things finally fall down as [if they were] exhausted and neglected. In the irate, instead, since they have hearts fired by wrath, both faces and eyes are turbid and red. And in general in the same [subjects], movements of all members are very harshly agitated also, according to the fury of anger.(58) But when we are happy and cheerful then we have movements agile and free for any flexing. One praises Euphranor because in an Alexander he would have realized the face of Paris and a figure in which you could have recognized that famous [Paris] as judge of the goddesses and as the lover of Helen and together as the slayer of Achilles. (59) And extraordinary praise for the painter of the deme is due to the fact that in his paintings are present the angry, the unjust, the inconstant and that, at the same time, you perceive easily both the indulgent and the clement, the merciful, the conceited, the humble, and the fierce. But they report, among all the others, that the Theban Aristides, contemporary of Apelles, had correctly represented these emotions of the heart; that [result] we also, it is without doubt surely, will obtain in an excellent way when we will have placed in this duty the study and diligence as far as [it is] suitable. (60) 18 It is necessary, therefore, that the movements of the body are well known to the painter; I maintain that they must be obtained certainly, with great skill, from Nature. It is a very difficult [condition], in fact, to diversify, according to the almost infinite movements of the mind, also the body movements. Unless one is an expert, who will believe, then, when you want to represent smiling faces, that this [feature] is so difficult to avoid, that they do not appear crying rather than happy? And who will be able to express, then, without very great study and diligence, faces in which the mouth, and the chin, and the eyes, and the cheeks, and the forehead, and the eyebrows accord together in grief or joy? All [objects], therefore, must be scrutinized with the greatest diligence from Nature herself, and one must always imitate [those which are] more evident. And in particular one must

paint the [features] that reveal more to the mind that they penetrate deeply, than [the features] which concern the eyes. But let us report some [notions] on movements which, in part, we have realized with our talent and, in part, we have learned from Nature herself. First of all, I maintain it is necessary that all the bodies move among each other in conformity to what one speaks of in accordance with a certain harmony. (Fig. 94) It seems opportune then that in the historia there is someone who informs the spectators of the things that unfold; or invites with the hand to show; or threatens with severe face and turbid eyes not to approach there, as if he wishes that a similar story remains secret; or indicates a danger or another [attribute] over there to observe; or invites you with his own gestures to laugh together or cry in company. It is necessary, in the end, that also all [the occurrences] that those painted [characters] made with the spectators and with themselves, concur to realize and explain the historia. One praises Timanthes of Cyprus [for] that painting with which he surpassed Colotes of Teios for the fact that, having represented, in the sacrifice of Iphigenia, Calchas saddened [and] Ulysses more dejected, and having engaged every art and skill in showing Menelaus afflicted by pain, [and] after having exhausted the states of mind, not knowing in which way to properly render the face of the very sad father, he wrapped his head with rags in order to leave to each one [spectator] a reason to turn the mind to the pain of that [father] more than one could perceive with sight.(61) One praises also a boat in Rome, the one within which our Tuscan painter Giotto represented the eleven [apostles] terrified in fear and by astonishment for the friend whom they saw walk on water; each one showing, in accordance to their own forces, proper indication of perturbed mind in the face and in the whole body, to such a point that the single motions of the states of mind appear in each one.(62) But it is suitable to treat in a very brief way this whole matter of movements. 19 And certainly there are some movements of the mind that the learned call affections, as anger, pain, joy, fear, desire, and so on; and there are other [movements] of the bodies. For example, one says that the bodies move in more ways since – when they increase or diminish, when living beings in good health fall ill in some way, when they recover from an illness, when they change condition – also for reasons of this kind one says that the bodies move.(63) But we painters, who wish to express the states of mind with the movements of the limbs, having left all other discussions, let us

speak of that movement which is generated only – they say – when the position changes. (Fig. 95) Everything that changes position has seven directions of movement, for example: either upward, or down, or right, or left, or retiring from there into the distance, or turning back toward us. The seventh way of moving, instead, is the one which turns itself around.(64) I desire therefore that in a painting there are all the movements. Let there be some bodies that extend toward us; let others recede away from this part, on the right and on the left. Let, then, some parts of the bodies present themselves opposite to the observers, let others recede, let others rise upward, let others go downward. But since in painting these movements one tends to go most of the time beyond the calculation and the measure, it is useful, at this point, to report some things about the position and movements of the limbs, [occurrences] that I have gathered from Nature herself, from where one clearly understands in which measurement one needs to apply these movements. I have ascertained precisely that in man the whole body, in each of his positions, is subject to the head, the heaviest member of all. If now the same [individual] will rest with [his] whole body on a single foot, this foot is always set like the base of a column, vertically in respect to the head. Indeed, the face of him who is standing almost always turns toward the direction in which the foot itself is pointed. (Fig. 96) But I have observed that the movements of the head, at times with difficulty in some directions, are such that [the head] does not always have some parts of the remaining body positioned under itself, through which [parts] the considerable weight [of the head] is sustained, or that [the head] certainly compels, on the opposite side, as a second supporting staff, some member that compensates [for] the weight. We, in fact, observe the same thing while someone sustains with outstretched hand a certain weight after having fixed one of two feet as an axis of balance, so that the entire other part of the body disposes itself from the opposite side to counterbalance the weight. I have also understood that the head of one who is standing does not turn further up than where the eyes perceive the middle of the sky; neither does it turn toward one of the two sides further than where the chin arrives to touch the shoulder. In that part of the body, then, in which we wear a belt, we can with effort sometimes bend so that we place the forearm in a straight line with the navel. The movements of the legs and of the arms are freer provided that they are not an obstacle to all the other well-distinguished parts of the body. (Fig. 97) In these [movements] I have indeed pointed out

this from Nature: that the hands almost never rise above the head, nor the elbow above the forearm; that the foot does not rise in height above the knee, neither that the foot is distant from the other much more than is the space of a single foot. (Fig. 98) I then examined that if we stretch a hand upward as much as we can, all the remaining parts of that side [of the body] adapt to that movement right to the feet, so that also the heel of the same foot, owing to the movement of the same arm, rises from the ground. 20 There are very many [notions] very similar to these that a diligent artist will take into consideration; and perhaps those [to] which I myself have referred up to now are evident to such a point that they could seem superfluous. But we did not neglect them, because we observed that very many [painters] make serious mistakes on this subject. In fact, they express too violent movements, and, that is, they do so in a way that in the same figure the breast and buttocks appear under a unique view, a thing which is certainly not only impossible to do but also very unpleasant to see. But the more these [artists] hear that those images, shaking to the highest degree the limbs, appear very alive, the more they imitate, having neglected any pictorial dignity, the movements of awkward actors. From this, their works are not only devoid of grace and beauty but express also a too restless talent of the artist. The painting must have, in fact, pleasant and gentle movements, and generally suited to what one speaks of. Let the movements and behavior be pleasing in young maidens; let this – adorned by innocence of age and generally delightful – exude a condition of sweet quiet rather than agitation, although Homer, of whom Zeuxis was a follower, had preferred also, within women, a very vigorous appearance.(65) In an adolescent, let the movements be more agile and pleasing, with a certain revelation of gallant heart and of energies. Let the movements in a man be more firm and [his] attitudes completely endowed with agile deftness.(66) Let all the movements in old men be slow and the attitudes themselves tired, so that they do not only support the body on both feet but also remain clinging to something with the hands. Let one assign, finally, to each one, according to the condition, the appropriate movements of the body in compliance with those motions of the mind that you wish to express. It is necessary, then, that in limbs the most important symptoms of great emotions of the mind are present. And surely, this procedure concerning the movements is completely common to every living being. In fact, it is not

appropriate that an ox with a plough uses those movements which Bucephalas, Alexander’s thoroughbred horse [used]. But we will appropriately paint the celebrated daughter of Inachus, who was transformed into a cow, while she was running, perhaps with the head up, feet raised, and tail twisted.(67) 21 Let these [occurrences], briefly analyzed concerning the movement of living beings, suffice. Now, instead, because I also think that in a painting of inanimate [objects] all those movements which we have spoken of are necessary, I maintain that one must say under what condition [they] develop from there. Certainly, the represented movements of the hair, and of horses’ manes, and of branches, and of leaves, and of clothes give a pleasing impression in painting. (Fig. 99) I desire, indeed, that [the depiction of] hair be treated according to all those seven movements which I spoke of. Let [the hair], in fact, swirl attempting to make a knot; or better still, let it wave in the air while it imitates flames, and let it coil on some heads; let it rise sometimes in this or that direction. (Fig. 100) And in the same manner, let bends and curves of branches be partly arched upward, partly be receding, and partly coiling as ropes. (Fig. 101) And let one apply this very thing in the folds of fabrics in a way that, as from the trunk of a tree the branches spread in all directions, so from a fold the [other] folds spring according to their own ramifications. And in these, let all the same movements develop also in such a way that there is not any extension of fabric in which there are not almost all the same movements. But, let all the motions be – what, most of the times, I advise – temperate and practicable, and let them show grace rather than admiration of labor. (Fig. 102) Now then, when we wish that clothes adapt to the movements and, generally, when dresses, heavy by their own nature and all falling without interruption toward the ground, do not present folds at all, for this [reason] one will rightly place in a corner of the historia the face of a Zephyr or of an Auster that blows among the clouds, from where all the clothes that are opposite are struck. From this, one will present that loveliness: that the flanks of bodies which the wind hits appear almost nude under the covering of fabric, since the clothes stick to the body because of the wind. On the contrary, from the other sides, fabrics, stirred by wind, will wave appropriately in the air. But, in this battering of the wind, let one avoid this: that some movement of clothes rise against the wind and that [they] be neither too resistant or too excessive.

Therefore, these things said on the movements of living beings and of inanimate [objects] must be greatly observed by the painter. And, furthermore, one must execute with diligence all those [conditions] that we have examined in the composition of surfaces, of the members, and of the bodies. 22 Therefore two parts of painting have been completed by us: the drawing of profiles and composition. It remains to talk about the reception of light. In the rudiments we have sufficiently demonstrated how much force [the sources] of light have [for] the purpose of variation of colors. In fact, without changing the kinds of colors, we have instructed that the colors become sometimes more vivid, sometimes more dull in accordance with the intensity of light and shadows, in particular, that black and white are those by means of which we express light and shadows in painting; and, on the contrary, all other [colors] – to which the variations of light and shade apply – are considered as substance. Having left all other things, one now needs to explain on what condition the painter must utilize black and white. It causes astonishment that the ancient painters Polygnotus and Timanthes have used only four colors, and that Aglaophon was content simply with one, as if – within such a large number of colors, as they believed it was – it is modest that the same excellent painters chose so few for [their] use; and, by consequence, one maintains that it is abundant for an artist to use together a whole multitude of colors in accordance with a work.(68) Without doubt I affirm that the wealth and variety of colors are greatly useful to the grace and beauty of a picture. But, this is what I would want: let the prepared painters consider that the highest quality and mastery reside only in the distribution of black and white and that – in having to place accurately these two – one must devote all talent and zeal. As, in effect, the incidence of light and shadows shows in which place surfaces swell up, or where they shrink by hollowing out, or how much every part moves aside or strays, so the distribution of black and white produces what became praised in the Athenian painter Nicias or what an artist must greatly look for: that his painted objects appear very much to protrude.(69) They say that Zeuxis, a very celebrated and very ancient painter,(70) had exercised, as almost like a prince, this exact calculation of light and shadow. This praise, nevertheless, has not ever been attributed to others. Certainly, I will consider insignificant or mediocre that painter who does not understand

clearly how much power every shadow and light produce[s] on each surface. With the consent of both the ignorant and the expert, I will praise those portraits that seem to protrude as [if] sculpted from pictures, and I will condemn, on the contrary, those [portraits] in which any technique does not shine forth, if not perhaps in the drawing. I would like that a composition be well drawn and excellently colored. Therefore, in order that [painters] avoid blame and deserve praise, light and shadows, first of all, must be noted with great diligence; and one must remember that a color itself is more vivid and clear in a surface in which bright rays strike and that, moreover, the force of the light diminishing gradually therefrom, the same color becomes a little darker. (Fig. 103) One needs, then, to observe how the shadows always correspond to light on the opposite side, in order that [when] in any body a surface is illuminated by light you can discover in this same [body] opposing surfaces covered by shadows. But for what concerns the depiction of light with white and of shadows with black, I urge [the painter] to devote particular attention in order to recognize the surfaces that are covered by light or by shadow. This thing you will certainly learn in an excellent way from Nature and from the objects themselves. Only when you will have observed them well, whereas you modify a color by a very light white, in a most as possible parsimonious way, at the right place inside the profiles, there you will also add black in the same way, on the opposite side, in the appropriate place. In fact, he who allows that prominent [features] emerge through this distribution, so to speak, of black and white, becomes more discerning. Follow, then, with equal parsimony in the additions until you perceive that you have achieved what is sufficient. Certainly, a mirror will be an excellent judge to examine this result. And even I do not know how objects depicted without errors become pleasing in a mirror. It is surprising, moreover, that every imperfection of a painting appears more deformed in a mirror. Let, therefore, [objects] taken from Nature be corrected through the control of a mirror. 23 (Fig. 104) Let it be consented, at this point, to report some things that we have taken from Nature. I have observed, without doubt, that flat surfaces maintain color in a uniform way in every part of their own [surface], whereas spherical and concave surfaces change colors; in fact, here it is clearer, there it is darker, while on another side one observes a sort of intermediate color. This color alteration, then, in nonflat surfaces is a source

of difficulties for indolent painters. But if a painter, as we have taught, will have outlined in the correct way [the] edges of surfaces and will have recognized the areas of light, then certainly the calculation of coloration will be easy. Through, so to speak, a very light dewdrop [of color,] in fact, he will modify first this surface, according to necessity, with white or with black, until the line of separation. Later on, he will continue adding, on this side of the line, so to speak, a second sprinkling; after this, another on this side of this and again another on this side of the same in order that not only a clearer part is depicted through a brighter color but also in order that in its turn the same color is diluted, almost like smoke, in adjoining areas. But it is necessary to remember that no surface must be rendered white to such a point that you cannot render the same [surface] many times even whiter. Also, in representing clothes themselves, white as snow, one needs to keep a long way off from the extreme whiteness. The painter, in fact, has nothing other than white with which to imitate the greatest brightnesses of the very neat surfaces and has available only black with which to express the deepest darknesses of night. Therefore, in painting white clothes one needs to select, [to begin,] from the four kinds of colors, a color which certainly is clear and bright. And contrary to this case itself, in painting perhaps a black mantle, we will select a second extreme color which is not very different from [the] darkness, for example, of the deep and murky sea. In the end, only this combination of black and white has the power, in a painting executed as a rule of art and with method, of showing very splendid golden and silver surfaces, and even of glass. The painters who utilize white excessively and black in an inappropriate way are therefore to be vehemently blamed. For this reason, I would like that white be purchased by painters at a price higher than very precious gems. In order that they become very stingy, it would certainly be useful [to know] that black and white originated from those huge pearls of Cleopatra that she purified with vinegar. In fact, the works would be both more gracious and closer to the truth. Nor can one easily express how much frugality and moderation should be in distributing white in a painting. Hence, also, Zeuxis used to reprove painters because they ignored what consisted of too much excess. (71) That is why, if one must be indulgent toward error, they who utilize black beyond measure must be blamed less than those who utilize white a bit excessively. In fact, from Nature herself we learn to detest, day by day through painting practice, a gloomy and dark work. And immediately after,

the more we understand, the more we train the hand to be disposed to grace and beauty. This way, by means of Nature, we all love manifest and clear [objects]. The way must be blocked, therefore, more in that part where it appears more prone to error. 24 Let these [matters], said up to this point on the use of black and white, be enough. One must, instead, add some reflection also on kinds of colors. It remains, therefore, to express several [notions] on the kinds of colors, certainly not as did the architect Vitruvius on what place one finds the best clay and excellent colors, but in what manner one must employ the chosen and most common colors in a painting.(72) They say that Euphranor, an ancient painter, has written something on colors, works which no longer exist in our days.(73) We, instead, who have brought to light, risen from the realm of the dead, this art of painting, whether once it has been described by others, or whether it has been extracted from this world [of the living], never treated by anyone, let us continue the topic as we have done till now, according to our talent in conformity with the established undertaking.(74) I would like that the kinds of colors and, as far as it is possible, that all species, be contemplated with a certain grace and agreeableness. Grace, without doubt, will result when colors will be combined with colors with a certain accurate diligence, as, for example, if you paint Diana while she leads choruses, it is convenient that green clothes are assigned to this nymph, to that next one white, to this one who precedes, purple, to [the other] who follows, yellow.(75) And one after another, let them be dressed, indeed, according to a variety of such colors, that bright colors always match with some dark colors of a different kind. This combination of colors, in fact, will certainly make more lovely both beauty, starting from variety, and splendor, starting from comparison. Well, there is certainly some bond among colors in the way that one, with respect to the other, increases the grace and beauty of the adjacent [color]. If red color is halfway between blue and green, it adds a certain reciprocal ornament to [the] one and to the other. Certainly, white warrants vivacity not only [when] placed between green and yellow but to almost all colors. Dark colors, instead, stand not without incisive quality among the light ones, and light [colors], in general, in accordance to an analogous relationship, are placed agreeably between the dark ones. The painter, therefore, in a historia will have available the variety of colors of which I have spoken.

25 But, there are those who utilize gold in a disproportionate way because they think that gold lends a certain majesty to the historia. I do not approve of them at all. Indeed, if I would like to paint Virgil’s Dido with a golden quiver, [who] kept [her] hair in a knot with a golden clasp, [for] whom a golden band girded [her] dress, and who rode with golden reins, and, in general, all things shone because of the gold, I [would] strive, nevertheless, to imitate by means of colors rather than by means of gold that abundance of golden rays that strikes observers’ eyes from every part.(76) In fact, as the admiration and greater praise of an artist is based on colors, thus also one can observe that, after you have placed gold on a flat table, the major parts of [those] surfaces that one needed to represent as bright and brilliant appear dark to the observers; and others [surfaces], perhaps, which should be darker, result more luminous. I will certainly not condemn all the other ornaments of artisans, as [are], of course, the [framing] sculpted columns around [the painting], the bases, and the pediments that one adds to a painting, also if they will be in silver and in solid gold or in a very pure gold completely. A perfect and finished historia, in fact, is very worthy also of the ornament of gems. 26 Till this point the three parts of painting have been treated very briefly by us. We have talked about the drawing of profiles of minor and major surfaces. We have talked about the composition of members and of bodies. We have talked about colors for what concerns the use that – we thought – was of interest to the painter. The whole painting has therefore been exposed by us; we have certainly said it bases itself on these three things: the drawing of profiles, the composition, and the reception of light.

Book Three The Painter 1 But to educate the painter to perfection, in order that he can obtain all the praises of which we have spoken, at the moment when several thoughts still remain that I think ought not to be completely neglected in these commentaries, let us report them in the briefest way possible. 2 It is the task of the painter to delimit and depict with lines and colors on a surface any assigned bodies to such a point that – given a certain distance and a certain position of the centric ray – painted things that you see appear, each [at the same time], prominent and very much like the assigned bodies. (1) The purpose of the painter is to obtain from a work praise, favor, and approval more than riches, a [feature] that he will certainly gain provided his painting will capture the eyes and hearts of the observers and, above all, will make [hearts] palpitate. We have said on what conditions these things can take place when we first spoke about composition and reception of light. But I wish that the painter, in order that he be able to obtain all these [conditions] in the best way, is firstly a man both honest and educated in the praiseworthy arts.(2) In fact, everyone knows how honesty – more so than admiration of every activity or art – is valid to gain the benevolence of the people. There are no doubts, then, that the benevolence of many contributes very much to procuring praise and, above all, riches [by] the artist, if it is true that the rich are sometimes moved by this benevolence more than by the skill of art, or rather offer earnings to him who firstly is modest and virtuous after they have dismissed another who may be, if you please, more skilled but perhaps dissolute. Things being so, the artist will have to be moderate in his morals, of great humanity and availability, in order to also obtain benevolence – [a] firm defense against poverty – and benefits, the best help to [the] perfection of art. 3 Furthermore, I wish that the painter be expert, as far as possible, in all liberal arts, but above all I desire in him the knowledge of geometry. I certainly agree with Pamphilus, a very ancient and very famous painter,

from whom the young nobles learned painting for the first time.(3) His opinion, in fact, was that no one by ignoring geometry would have been a good painter. Certainly, our rudiments, from which one extracts a whole, complete, and precise technique of painting, are easily assimilable by a geometrician. I also believe that for those who ignore this science neither rudiments nor some procedures of painting can be sufficiently comprehensible. I, therefore, claim that geometry absolutely must not be neglected by painters. It will not be useless if they will find pleasure very near to poets and orators;(4) in fact, these certainly have many qualities in common with the painter. Indeed, those literary men, not little equipped with the knowledge of many things, will help to settle in the best way the composition of a historia, a wholly praiseworthy undertaking that is first based on creativity. Or rather, this [undertaking] surely has such a force that even the creativity alone attracts without the painting. (Fig. 105) While one reads, one praises that famous description of Calumny that Lucian says [has been] depicted by Apelles.(5) Without doubt, I think it is not at all alien to the purpose to tell it, in order that painters remember that they must dedicate themselves to realize creations of this kind. There was in fact a man whose ears protruded in an overwhelming way; standing close to him there were two women: Ignorance and Superstition; somewhere else [there was] Calumny herself, who was approaching with the appearance of an attractive woman, but this [woman] in [her] face itself seemed callous beyond measure by cunning intention, while she held with the left hand a lighted torch and with the other hand dragged by the hair an adolescent in the act of turning [his] hands toward the sky. And her guide is a certain man, filled with pallor, disfigured, with frowning look, whom you would rightly compare to those whom a long fatigue will have exhausted in battle. They justly said that he was Envy. There are also two other female companions of Calumny in the act of arranging the ornaments of [their] mistress: Deceit and Fraud. Behind them, there is Penitence, covered in dark and very dirty robes in the act of lacerating herself.(6) Very near, Truth follows, chaste and modest. If this historia fascinates even the hearts just by narrating it, how much beauty and seduction do you think has originated from the painting itself by the excellent painter? 4 (Fig. 106) And what [to say] of those three little young sisters to whom Hesiod gave the names of Aglaia, Euphrosine, and Thalia,(7) who were

depicted smiling, with hands intertwined among themselves, [and] adorned with loose and transparent clothes? One wished that from them nobility of the heart was manifested, because one of the sisters gives, the other receives, and the third returns a kind gesture, levels that certainly must be present in every perfect, noble-minded heart.(8) Do you perceive what great praise creations of this kind procure for the artist? For this reason, what I advise here is let the zealous painter become friendly and well disposed toward poets and orators and in general toward all others learned in letters. In fact, he will not only obtain the best suggestions from similar learned brains, but, really, he will enjoy also these creative ideas, which will bring him praise not of secondary importance in a painting. Phidias, an excellent painter, admitted to have learned from Homer particularly, how to paint the majesty of Jupiter.(9) In the same way, I think that we also will not only become more prolific but also more correct by reading our poets, provided that we will be more zealous in learning than in profit. 5 But the majority of times, more than learning, a thought upsets the scholars not less than the passionate [people]: the fact that they ignore the road of correct learning.(10) Let us commence by saying, therefore, on what condition we should become experts in this art. Let the principle be that all levels of learning must be claimed from Nature herself. The process, indeed, of perfecting the art will be gained by means of diligence, study, and assiduousness. I would like, at least, that those who undertake the art of painting should follow what I see being done among teachers of writing. Those, in effect, first teach separately all characters of the alphabet. Thereafter they prepare to bring together the syllables and subsequently the expressions. Therefore, let our [painters] also follow this procedure in painting. At first, let them [learn] the edge of surfaces, [I would say] almost the elements of painting, then the connections of the same [surfaces]; (Fig. 107) from here on, let them learn by heart with precision the shapes of all members,(11) and all the differences that can be found in the members. In fact, those [differences] are surely neither few nor insignificant. There will be those whose nose is hooked. There will be those who show flattened, curved, and wide nostrils; others who present flaccid cheeks; thin lips distinguish others;(12) and above all the single members have, in their turn, something in particular that, when it will have been present in greater or lesser measure, then it renders the whole limb very different. Indeed, we see

how the same members chubby in us as children and so to say rounded and smooth are, instead, with the arising of old age, harsher and rather bony. (Fig. 108) The scholar of painting, therefore, will take all these things from Nature herself, and he will meditate incessantly by himself on what condition each thing arises; and in this research he will persist continually with the eyes and with the mind. He will observe, in fact, the lap of a person who is sitting and the legs while they bend, inclining gently. He will notice the whole appearance and the conformation of the one who is in front of him. Finally, there will not be any part concerning which he ignores the aim and the symmetry, as the Greeks say. Well, among all components, let him not only prefer the resemblance of things but also, and above all, beauty itself. In a painting, in fact, beauty pleases beyond measure no more than is required.(13) Demetrius, that famous ancient painter, did not reach the maximum level of praise, because he [was] more careful in expressing resemblance than beauty.(14) All approved parts, therefore, must be chosen from the most beautiful bodies. Consequently, not lastly,(15) one needs to strive with zeal and energy in order to reach beauty, to master it, and, above all, to express it. Although this [feature] is the most difficult of all, because not all praises of beauty concentrate themselves in a single place, but certainly are disseminated and scattered, nevertheless one needs to extend every effort in looking for it and understanding it to perfection. In fact, he who will have learned to seize and take into consideration more difficult objects will overcome, at will, the minor ones. And there is nothing so difficult that you cannot continue till the end with study and perseverance. (16) 6 But, in order that study is not vain and sterile, one needs to avoid that well-known custom of many, who aspire to praise in painting with their own genius, without having any natural image of that [object] in front of the eyes or in front of the mind. These, without doubt, do not learn to paint correctly but persist in errors. This idea of beauty, that is scarcely perceived by the best, truly eludes incompetents. Zeuxis, the most able painter, both most learned and most expert of all, wishing to realize among the Crotoneans a painting to dedicate at public expense, in the temple of Lucina,(17) did not approach painting at random, trusting, like almost all the painters of our time, in his own genius. But, because he believed that it was not possible to find all [objects] in which he was looking for beauty with his

own genius only, and that furthermore one could not obtain them in a single body by extracting them from Nature; for this reason he chose among all the youth of that city five maidens of extraordinary features in order to transfer into the painting what was most praised in each, of the female figure. Certainly, he acted prudently because it easily occurs to painters that they – when [they], without any preestablished model to imitate, struggle to capture beauty’s qualities only with genius – do not reach, by means of this effort, the beauty to which they are obliged or which they are looking for; but, moreover, they slip into bad pictorial practice, which, even if they wish to, they are hardly able to dismiss. Instead, he himself who will be accustomed to take all things from Nature herself will render the hand exercised to such a point that whatever thing he will undertake, he will always imitate Nature. We see how desirable this is in paintings. If, in fact, in a historia the figure of some known person appears, although some [figures] of great skill emerge, nevertheless, a known face attracts to itself the eyes of all observers. So much grace and strength inhabits in itself what has been taken from Nature! Therefore, let us always take from Nature [objects] that we wish to paint and from them always let us select the most beautiful and deserving. 7 But, one needs to avoid what many do: that we paint on very small panels. Truly, I would like that you become accustomed to large images that approach as much as possible in size what you would like to realize. The greatest mistakes, in fact, hide, above all, in small pictures. In a large depiction even the smallest mistakes are visible. Galen has written that he saw Phaethon carved in a ring, carried by four horses, of whom it was distinctly possible to see the bridles [and] all [their] feet and chests.(18) Let painters leave this praise to sculptors of gems, and let them turn to [their own] bigger fields of praise. In fact, he who will have learned to represent or depict large figures will surpass, in the very easy and best way in a single stroke,(19) the tiny ones of the same kind. He instead, who will have accustomed the hand and talent to these minute jewels, will easily fall into mistakes with the largest ones. 8 There are those who imitate works of other painters and in this activity look for glory for themselves. Regarding this, they report that the sculptor Calamis made two cups, in which Zenodorus imitated him to such a point

that one did not perceive any difference in the works. But painters incur a very grave error if they do not understand that they who have made a painting attempted to represent an image such as that one which we see painted on the veil by Nature herself. Or, if it is useful to imitate works of others because objects that must be displayed in front of oneself assure an appearance firmer than living creatures, I prefer that you plan to imitate an object poorly sculpted rather than excellently depicted. In fact, from depicted things we accustom hands to realize only a certain resemblance. Whereas from sculpted ones we learn how to deduce both resemblance and true illumination. In acquiring these illuminations it is certainly very useful to sharpen visual action through the single hairs of the eyelashes [squinting], so that lights appear a little darker there and depicted almost by means of a cut. Furthermore, it will perhaps be useful to exercise modeling as much as [practicing] with the brush. Sculpture, certainly, is more secure and easier than painting. And there will never be anyone who can correctly paint a thing of which he does not know all protrusions. The protrusions are, nevertheless, found more easily within a sculpture than within a painting. And let this truly serve as remarkable proof to the purpose, as one can verify, that in almost every era you discover that there have been mediocre sculptors, while you will find almost no painter to be despised or quite unskilled. 9 Whether you practice painting finally or [practice] sculpture, it is necessary that you always set yourself some elegant and particular model that you both gaze at and imitate; and in imitating it, I think that one needs to adopt diligence connected with readiness; so that the painter never directs the brush or the stylus to the work without first having established, in the best way with the mind, what he will have to do and in what way he will have to carry it out to the end. It is in fact safer to remove mistakes from the mind than to remove them from the work. And furthermore, as soon as we will become accustomed to do everything as established, it occurs that we transform ourselves into much more inclined artists than Asclepiodorus, who, they say, has certainly been the most rapid of all in painting.(20) In effect, the ready genius, prepared and determined, the one that is aroused animated by practice, becomes able to complete the work; and consequently the hand – which a precise calculation of the mind will have guided – follows very rapidly. On the contrary, if some artists are slow, these are

certainly so because they try languidly and reluctantly that thing that they did not first make evident with the study of their own mind. And, so long as they persist in that darkness of error, they, meticulous and almost blinded, explore and research with the brush unknown streets and ways out, as a blind person with a stick. Let, then, [the painter] never place [his] hand on a work if not with the mind which precedes and with the same [mind] well prepared. 10 But since the most important work of the painter is the historia, in which every richness and elegance of things must certainly be present, one must pay attention that we learn to paint well, as far as it is possible, with talent, not only a man but also a horse, a dog, other animals, and all objects most worthy of being seen, in order that in our works variety and abundance are missing to the least degree; without these, no historia is worthy of praise. A great feature, indeed, and barely ascribed to someone of the ancient [painters], so that I do not say that he excelled in everything, but that he was instructed also in a mediocre way. Nevertheless, I think that one needs to strive with every care in order that both [features] that bring very great praise if they are obtained, and blame if they are neglected, are not going to be missing because of our negligence. Nicias, an Athenian painter, depicted women, with great diligence. They also say that Zeuxis overcame by far others in painting the female body. Heraclides distinguished himself in the painting of ships. Serapion was not able to depict man; he clearly depicted all other objects in a beautiful way. Dionysius was not able [to depict] anything except man. Alexander, he who depicted the portico of Pompeius, drew all quadrupeds in an excellent way and dogs in particular. Aurelius, because he was always in love, took delight in drawing goddesses only, and in their portraits faces loved [by him]. Phidias applied himself in showing the majesty of the gods more than the beauty of men.(21) For Euphranor it was very much in [his] heart to imitate the dignity of heroes, and on this subject, he excelled among all others.(22) Therefore, there was not equal ability in each one of them. Nature, in fact, lavished on each single talent particular qualities, [with] which we must not be content until we relinquish unintended something that we can still do. But natural qualities also must be cultivated and augmented with activity, study, and practice. Beyond this, it is convenient to imagine that we must not fail, because of negligence, anything that tends toward praise.

11 As for the rest, when we wish to depict a historia, for a long time first of all, we will evaluate, according to what order and what rules [it] is most beautiful to compose it. (Fig. 109) And we will illustrate at one time the whole historia, at another the single parts of the same, preparing schemes on paper; and we will consult all friends on this matter.(23) Later, we will strive so that, for us, all objects are disposed in such a way that in a work there is nothing of which we do not know in what place it must be located in an excellent way. Or, in order to obtain this in a more certain way, it will be useful to subdivide the schemes into parallels, so that, in a work [for the] public, all objects, for example, taken from personal sketches, are arranged in appropriate positions. But, in completing a work, we will employ diligence that is united to swiftness of action; and let not boredom impede that [diligence] in moving ahead, and let not desire of reaching the end cast [it] down. Now and then it is necessary to interrupt the labor of a work and restore the spirit; nor should one act, as many do, when they take more than one work: this they commence; this they leave outlined and in general unfinished. But the works that you will have initiated must be taken to perfection in every part. To someone who said, in showing a painting: “I depicted it a moment ago,” Apelles replied: “Even if you do not say it, it is without doubt evident; indeed, I am surprised that you have not depicted many more of this kind.”(24) I have seen some, at one time painters and sculptors, at another rhetoricians and poets – if there are some whom we must call by the name of rhetoricians or poets in our days – undertake some work with great zeal, who, thereafter, when that ardor was missing, left the work unfinished and unrefined, and dedicated themselves to very new things with renewed eagerness to do another [work]; without doubt, I blame these people. All those, in fact, who want that their works be agreeable and pleasing to posterity must reflect on a work for a long time before, in order to make it, with great diligence, perfect, if it is true that, in no few things, diligence itself is no less pleasing than every ability. But one must avoid that famous useless habit, so to speak, of those who, while they wish that their [works] be completely lacking in every fault and extremely polished, they make a work worn out by age before it is completed. The ancient painters used to criticize Protogenes because he did not know how to take [his] hand away from a painting.(25) And certainly rightly for the above reason. One must try in a reasonable way, in effect, in order that diligence

be engaged as far as it is sufficient in objects, in proportion to the strengths of talent. But to wish, in everything, either more than one can achieve or more than is worthwhile is [a quality] of a persevering genius, not of a diligent one. 12 One must, therefore, adopt a moderate diligence in features, and it is necessary to consult friends; or, better still, one also needs to receive all observers from everywhere during the execution of the work itself and [to] listen to them. This way, in fact, the painter’s work will be pleasing to a great number of people. Therefore, one will not refuse [the] criticism and judgment of a great number of people, when it is still possible to meet with suggestions. They say that Apelles used to hide behind the picture both in order that the observers spoke more liberally and that he personally listened to them while they showed in a more sincere way faults of his work.(26) Therefore, I wish that our painters both listen more often freely and ask all people what they think, since this is an aid not only for definite objects but also to catch favor with respect to the painter.(27) Truly, there is no one who does not consider [it] an honor for himself to express his own judgment on [the] works of others. One must not then fear in the least degree that the judgment of detractors and of the envious could take something away from the praises of a painter. In fact, [the] fame of the painter is obvious and very celebrated, and it has as a loquacious witness the well-painted work itself. Let him, therefore, listen to all, and let him at first value a thing on his own and correct it. Then, after having listened to all, let him follow [the advice of those] more expert. 13 (Fig. 110) These [are the notions] which I thought to report in the present commentaries on painting. If these are such as to offer an advantage and some usefulness to painters, I expect, above all, this prize for my toils: that they paint my face in their historiae, in such a way to proclaim, to posterity, that they are mindful of a benefit and grateful, or rather, that I have been a scholar of art. On the contrary, if I did not satisfy their expectations at all, nevertheless let them not condemn the fact that we dared to undertake such a great subject. If, in fact, our talent has not been able to attain what is meritorious to attempt, they [the readers] should at least remember that in great events one is accustomed to consider praise the fact that you have desired that which was very difficult. Perhaps, there will be those who will

amend our mistakes, and in this extraordinary and very valuable subject they will be able to help painters much more than we. I beg them again and again – Oh! If there will be some! – (28) to engage with a happy and resolute mind this commitment, in which they, in person, both let themselves exercise talent and make this very noble art very refined. We, nevertheless, consider it a great satisfaction to have won this palm before [its] time, since we have been the first ones to write about this very fine art. Really, if we have not been able to take this truly most difficult undertaking to perfection in accordance with the readers’ expectation, one needs to blame Nature for this more than us, which seems to have imposed this rule on things: that there exists no art that has not taken [its] origins from quite imperfect beginnings. In fact, they say that nothing is born [and is], at the same moment, also perfect.(29) Instead, they who will follow us – if there will be some more able than we with zeal and talent – these perhaps will make the art of painting perfect and complete.(30) The End

Appendixes Appendix 1 Limitations of Grayson’s Studies on De Pictura

Between 1968 and 1973, Cecil Grayson consolidated his research concerning Alberti’s De Pictura. In the first of three publications, he analyzed the three vernacular manuscripts;(1) in the second, he produced a face-to-face English translation of his version of collated Latin manuscripts in sixty-three paragraphs(2) – I have adopted his division of paragraphs in this volume – and, finally, in the third, he published the vernacular in facing pages with the Latin.(3) As for the vernacular manuscripts, Grayson came to the conclusion that the Florentine was the most reliable. His “critical apparatus” consisted of systematic analysis of certain passages and a judicious selection of some quite convincing discordances.(4) Although Bonucci and Mallè had already transcribed the manuscript, Grayson further perfected the text. For the Latin draft, however, Grayson’s “critical apparatus” was less successful.(5) He lists and only partly describes the twenty-odd manuscripts, unaware that none was an autograph or even revealed autograph corrections. However, he does divide the manuscripts into two groups; the first group, representing the version that Alberti could have written around 1435, lacks the erroneous “dedication” letter to the prince of Mantua, whereas the second group contains it. Grayson went on to list the many variants among the manuscripts, but this time, contrary to what he had done regarding the vernacular, he did not offer an explanatory selection of the passages; instead, he limited himself to transcriptions of words and phrases extracted without justifying or explaining why one word instead of another was preferable, or why a particle was inserted, or a verb or name removed. These questions are of crucial importance, underscoring the limits of Grayson’s deductions. A much more attentive analysis to such syntactic details should reveal not only why Alberti chose one locution over another but also which manuscript the author considered to be a subsequent improvement over an earlier version.

A second problem with Grayson’s “apparatus” is that he did not offer a “true” comparison between the Latin and vernacular readings.(6) Even though he placed them side by side, he did not examine the differences between the two texts. Allow me here to review his own ruminations, published in 1973: “There is, in short, this hypothesis, that Alberti drafted a first Latin reading (without dedication), then from this, a free vernacular version that he dedicated to Brunelleschi. Later on, he made corrections to the Latin in order to dedicate it to Gonzaga. This seems to exclude the possibility that he ever returned again to the vernacular. While one remains suspicious of a still later edition quite different from the handwritten tradition (that is, referring to the Basel printing), one cannot completely disclaim the hypothesis that there might have been yet another Latin version by the author.”(7) Grayson continued, “To accept the B[asel] text as a definitive Latin version would no doubt be the easier solution to the problems already pointed out in the tradition of the Latin text of this work, but in this case the question would still remain: there are certain eventual corrections by the author in the other Latin codices, but which were not passed on to the B[asel] edition.”(8) As to these other “eventual corrections,” Grayson was referring to the following five words, ad alterum lineae caput perpendicularem, which are not in the Basel nor in the vernacular, and thus he decided that he could safely dismiss the Basel edition as irrelevant.(9) These words mean literally “on the perpendicular to the line in one of the two extremities” and are part of Alberti’s evolving explanation of how the artist should construct a linearperspective diagram in the easiest and most practical manner.(10) Yet the deletion of this phrase in the Basel edition should hardly have led to Grayson’s conclusion. The more likely possibility was that Alberti had simply improved his thoughts as to how best to instruct his readers concerning his new perspective method. Indeed, the Basel text represents Alberti’s thinking about this matter, which he never stopped refining. Apparently, it never occurred to Grayson that another, reedited De Pictura manuscript might have reached Nuremberg first, and then Basel later, as I have argued.

Appendix 2 First Doubts

As research on the texts progressed, concerns about Grayson’s reasoning in De Pictura arose not only in respect to the priority of the Latin version but also in regard to unusual word choices and phrase interpretations. In addition, other scholars, such as Simonelli, Gorni, Arrighi, Wittkower, and Bertolini, raised questions about several inconsistencies in Grayson’s thesis. In a 1971 paper, Maria Picchio Simonelli pointed out that Alberti, when translating from Latin to vernacular – that is, still following the notion that the vernacular was later and especially intended for painters – had also made some deletions not in accordance with the correct comprehension of the text.(1) Simonelli’s observation was dismissed by Anthony Grafton, who thought her to be provocative.(2) In 1973, in his review of Grayson’s Opere volgari, Guglielmo Gorni wrote: “The facts being so, the vaguely philanthropic plan of the De pictura converted to the Tuscan language for ‘convenience of illiterates,’ as one takes delight in believing, is denied by tradition of the text which counts only three vernacular manuscripts as opposed to at least nineteen Latin ones. In this case, therefore, the antinomy consists of terms opposite to the vulgarized ones; in any case, Latin is the surer popularity vehicle and of a greater audience.”(3) A year later, Gino Arrighi noticed that in paragraph 19 of the vernacular the term “superbipartienti” appears, and in the Latin collated by Grayson, the word is “superbipartiens,” whereas in the Basel edition it reads “subsesquialterum.” Arrighi believed that the latter designation was the correct form for expressing Alberti’s intention,(4) and he noted that Grayson had not commented on this, having acknowledged its substitution in the Basel text.(5) In 1978, Rudolf Wittkower pointed out yet another such mathematical problem present in paragraph 14 of the vernacular De Pictura. He was transcribing the passage: “Proportional triangles are said to be those whose sides and angles have a ratio to each other, so that if one side of this triangle will be two times as long as its base and the other side three … ,” and remarked that “such a triangle cannot be constructed.”(6) The error is certainly corrected, no doubt by Alberti himself, in the Basel edition. Lucia Bertolini’s more recent study involved a thorough philological analysis of many more than just a few problematic vernacular passages visà-vis the Latin. Her evidence clearly indicated the priority of the vernacular,

(7) but she unfortunately did not translate her various Latin quotations. Nevertheless, this problem should not weaken her basic argument; rather it only underscores the need for a new translation of the Latin text of both the Basel edition and the Latin edition collated by Grayson, comparing when necessary.

Notes Introduction For a more in-depth examination regarding the present work and the notes, please consult Rocco Sinisgalli, The New De Pictura of Leon Battista Alberti (Rome, 2006). 1 There exist only three paper codices of the vernacular text. The first one is in the National Library of Florence, Fondo Nazionale II. IV. 38, ff. 120r–136v; ex Magliabechiana Cl. XXI, 119; provenance Strozzi (Bibliotheca Stroctiana), cod. 143. This codex starts on folio 120r with the sentence “L. B. Al. De Pictura Incipit Lege Feliciter Prologus” and ends on folio 136v with the sentence “Finis. Laus Deo. Die XVII mensis iulii Mcccc36.” Therefore, on folio 120r of this codex, there is the dedicatory “Prologue” to Brunelleschi that precedes the De Pictura in the local dialect of Tuscany, and folio 136v includes the date “July 17th 1436.” The second codex in vernacular is in Verona, Capitolare Library, Codex CCLXXIII. The third one is in Paris, in the Bibliothèque Nationale, Italian Codex 1692; paper of XVI century. 2 Pompilio Pozzetti, Leo Baptista Alberti a Pompilio Pozzetti Cler.… (Florence, 1789), in his chapter “Memorie e documenti inediti per servire alla vita letteraria di Leon Battista Alberti” (p. 31, paragraph 15), wrote: “In the former Codex Strozziano 143 paper folios, the Tuscan [books] are dedicated to Brunelleschi.” 3 The Basel editio princeps includes corrections not found in other Latin or vernacular manuscripts. 4 Cecil Grayson, Leon Battista Alberti: On Painting and On Sculpture (London: Phaidon, 1972); Cecil Grayson, trans. On Painting: Leon Battista Alberti, with an Introduction and Notes by Martin Kemp (London: Penguin Classics, 1991); J. L. Schefer, Alberti, De la Peinture, De Pictura (Paris: Macula Dédale, 1992); Oskar Bätschmann and Christoph Schäublin, Leon Battista Alberti, das Standbild, die Malkunst, Grundlagen der Malerei (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2000).

5 See O. Besomi, “Un nuovo testimone del ‘De Pictura’ di Leon Battista Alberti,” Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance, 53, no. 2 (1991): 429–436. 6 Only five manuscripts listed by Grayson (1973), that is, F, FR, G, L, and V2, together with the Basel edition, do not have the covering “letter” to the prince of Mantua (pp. 301–303). 7 Girolamo Mancini, Vita di Leon Battista Alberti (Rome: Bardi, 1967; reprint of the 1882 edition), p. 388. 8 John Bessarion, patriarch of Constantinople. 9 On two other occasions Regiomontanus quotes Alberti: for the calculation of the sun’s declinations, in a letter addressed to Giovanni Bianchini, in 1464, and in a second letter addressed to Iacopo from Speyer, in 1465. In the letter addressed to Bianchini (see C. De Murr, Memorabilia Bibliothecarum Publicarum Norimbergensium [Norimbergae, 1786], I, p. 148), Regiomontanus writes, “I often have heard the Florentine Paolo and the gentleman Battista De Albertis who both said … ”; in the letter addressed to Iacopo from Speyer (see De Murr, 1786, I, p. 154), he writes, “The best personality Battista Alberti repeatedly praised me ultimately, your excellency.” That Regiomontanus uses “often” and “repeatedly” in these letters means that he had a certain friendship with Alberti, not merely a simple acquaintance. 10 See the “Prospectus” of the volume Joannis Regiomontani Opera Collectanea (Osnabrück, Zeller Verlag, 1972). 11 Walter L. Strauss, The Painter’s Manual (New York: Abaris Books, 1977), p. 25. 12 See Peter Krüger, Dürers Apokalypse (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1996), pp. 89–90; H. Petz, “Urkundliche Nachrichten über den literaischen Nachlafs Regiomontans und B. Walters, 1478–1522,” in Mitteilungen des Vereins für Geschichte der Stadt Nürnberg (Nürnberg: Siebentes Heft, 1888), p. 254; Hans Rupprich, “Die kunsttheoretischen Schriften L. B. Albertis und ihre Nachwirkung bei Dürer,” in Sonderdruck aus Schweizer Beiträge zur Allgemeinen Geschichte, Band 18/19 (Berlin: Deutscher Verein für Kunstwissenschaft, 1960/61), pp. 219–239.

13 In addition to the De Pictura, Thomas Venatorius (in German, Thomas Gechauff), also edited the volume Archimedis … Opera, quae quidem extant omnia etc., with the commentary of Eutocius (Basle, 1544). 14 See my Il nuovo De Pictura di Leon Battista Alberti: The New De Pictura of Leon Battista Alberti (Rome: Kappa, 2006), pp. 536– 540. 15 Bätschmann and Schäublin, 2000, p. 377. 16 Hans Rupprich, Albrecth Dürers schriftlicher Nachlaß (Berlin: Deutscher Verein für Kunstwissenschaft, 1966), vol. 2, p. 85, thought that this manuscript had been copied by Regiomontanus from one of the manuscripts of the De Pictura in the Vatican Library, perhaps the Ottoboniensis 1424 or the Reginensis 1549. Certainly, during his Roman sojourn, Regiomontanus made a copy of the translation from Greek into Latin of Archimedes’ works; a copy that went to Pirckheimer’s library and then into Venatorius’s hands (concerning this, see Marshall Clagett, Archimedes in the Middle Ages [Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1978], vol. 3, pt. 3, p. 322). But for the three short books of De Pictura matters were different. Alberti and Regiomontanus had become close friends, and it would have been simpler to ask the author for the work. 17 De Pictura praestantissima, et nunquam satis laudata arte libri tres absolutissimi, Leonis Baptistae de Albertis viri in omni scientiarum genere, et praecipue mathematicarum disciplinarum doctissimi. Iam primum in lucem editi. Basileae. Anno MDXL Mense Augusto appears on the title page of the copy in the National Library of Rome. The text is preceded by a “dedicatory” letter from Thomas Venatorius to Jakob Milichius. De Pictura praestantissima arte et nunquam satis laudata libri tres absolutissimi, Leonis Baptistae de Albertis viri in omni genere scientiarum praecipue Mathematices doctissimi. Iam primum in lucem editi. Basileae Anno MDXL Mense Augusto appears on the title page of the copy in the Marciana of Venice. This copy does not have the letter from Venatorius. Cratander was a printer who worked on his own from 1519 and

then became a bookseller in 1536. He died between 1539 and 1540, but he could have been the original De Pictura publisher, together with Westheimer. This would explain the two different printings. Cratander’s heirs may have sold their portion of the printing to Westheimer, who could have changed the title on the title page of Cratander’s unsold copies, with the aim of placing them favorably in the market. 18 Grayson, 1973, p. 309, believed that the Veronese (V) and Parisian (P) manuscripts could be the “only survivors of text in bad condition and in many points actually illegible, so that now it is hard to recognize even their pratical utility.” 19 Marciana Library of Venice, Latin Codex XI, ex 3859, “De Brute” of Cicero, folio 67: “Die Veneris hora XX 3/4 quae fuit dies 26 Augusti 1435, complevi opus de Pictura Florentiae. B[aptista].” It is thought to be an autograph note by Alberti. 20 See the “Prologue” addressed to Brunelleschi, where Alberti also refers to the vernacular text by the Latin name, De Pictura. 21 See Lucia Bertolini, “Come pubblicava l’Alberti: Ipotesi preliminari,” in Dialettologia, storia della lingua, filologia (Florence: Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2004). 22 See the “Prologue.” 23 Anthony Grafton, Leon Battista Alberti: Master Builder of the Italian Renaissance (London: Penguin Press, 2001), p. 145. 24 Erwin Panofsky, La vita e le opere di Albrecht Dürer (Milan: Feltrinelli, 1967), pp. 324–327, explained what “legitimate construction” and “abbreviated construction” meant. These two methods were equally valid for working in perspective but were very different and distinct from each other. 25 Giorgio Vasari, Le Vite de’ più eccellenti architetti, pittori, et scultori italiani da Cimabue insino a’ tempi nostri (Rome: New Compton Editori, 1991), was able to specify that Brunelleschi succeeded in “extract[ing] [the perspective] by means of the plan and elevation and by intersection, a truly very ingenious and useful thing to the art of drawing.” As in all his works, Brunelleschi did not care about leaving written record of the two

panels he realized using mirrors or of his method, which was called “legitimate construction.” 26 The erudite Giuseppe Mazzatinti (1855–1906) was a bibliographer who compiled the Inventario dei Manoscritti italiani delle Biblioteche di Francia (Rome: Presso i Principali Librai, 1886). 27 Giammaria Mazzuchelli (1707–1765) was the author of a great unfinished work entitled Gli scrittori d’Italia (1753). The erudite dramatist Scipione Maffei (1675–1755) owned the vernacular manuscript in the Capitolare, Verona. 28 Vincenzo Follini (1759–1836) was the librarian of the Magliabechiana, to which the vernacular manuscript now present in the National Library, Florence, Fondo Nazionale II. IV. 38, once belonged; see note 1. 29 Written in red on folio 1r of the vernacular manuscript 1692 in the Nationale of Paris is “A treatise subdivided in three parts begins; it is made by the very erudite gentleman ‘Batista degli Alberti’; it is made in Latin and translated into vernacular by [Alberti] himself, in order to make it more convenient for non literates in the art or for those who were carried by affection or love that they have for art.” There are two other notes in red: (1) on folio 11r, “The first book ends. The second one begins. It is called the picture”; (2) on folio 17v, “The second book ends. The third one begins.” 30 Mazzatinti, 1886, part 1, vol. I, p. 255. 31 G. Mazzucchelli, Gli scrittori d’Italia cioè Notizie storiche, e critiche intorno alle Vite, e agli scritti dei letterati italiani (Brescia, 1753), p. 314. 32 The manuscript in the Capitolare Library of Verona has 169 numbered pages. The folios 144r–169r contain the De Pictura in the vernacular. On the last folio one can find Maffei’s quoted sentence. 33 Mazzucchelli, 1753, p. 314, reports that the codex was the property of Scipione Maffei, but he does not mention this writing, which was recorded by Paul-Henri Michel (Le Traité de la Peinture de Léon-Baptiste Alberti. Version Latine et Version Vulgaire, in

Revue des Études Italiennes, Nouvelle Série, Tomo VIII [Paris, 1961], pp. 80–91). 34 Mazzucchelli, 1753, p. 314. 35 The codex in the National Library of Florence was organized by Vincenzo Follini in the nineteenth century, certainly between 1831, when he was appointed librarian of the Magliabechiana, and 1836, when he died in office. 36 Filarete may have been referring to the De Pictura, even though Liliana Grassi in the Trattato di architettura, edited by Anna Maria Finoli and Liliana Grassi (Milan: Il Polifilo, 1972), pp. 9– 11, speaks of the possibility of its being a reference to the De Re Aedificatoria or to the Elements. 37 Ludovico Domenichi, trans., La Pittura di Leon Battista Alberti (Venice, 1547). 38 Vasari, 1991, p. 390. 39 Cosimo Bartoli, trans. Della Pittura, in Opuscoli morali di L. B. Alberti (Venice, 1568). 40 Raffaelle Trichet du Fresne, Vita di Leon Battista Alberti (Paris, 1651). 41 Pozzetti, 1789, paragraph 15, p. 31. 42 Theodore Gaza (c. 1398–1475), Byzantine humanist, writer, interpreter of Greek authors. 43 From Alberti’s dedicatory letter to Theodore Gaza in the Elementa, manuscript CCLXXIII, Verona, Capitolare Library, folio 132r. 44 Anicio Bonucci, Opere Volgari, Tome IV, preface, p. 7 (Florence: Tipografia Galileiana, 1847). 45 H. Janitschek, Leon Battista Alberti’s Kleinere Kunsttheoretische Schriften … (Wien: Braümuller, 1877), pp. III–VII. 46 G. Mancini, Vita di Leon Battista Alberti (Rome: Bardi, 1967), pp. 131–132. 47 Luigi Mallè, ed., Leon Battista Alberti Della Pittura (Florence: Sansoni, 1950), pp. 117–118.

48 Mallè, 1950, p. 119. For what concerns Bonucci’s opportunism, differently from what Mallè writes, Bonucci does not claim for himself the discovery of the Florentine manuscript. 49 Anna Maria Brizio, “Review of Mallè’s Text,” in Giornale Storico della letteratura italiana (Torino: Loescher, 1952), pp. 79–81. 50 Cecil Grayson, “Studi su Leon Battista Alberti,” in Rinascimento, a. 4, 1 (1953). Twenty years later, Grayson, 1973, p. 305, seems to have had some doubts between “I composed” and “I translated when he says: “It is not clear if this ‘feci’ should be understandable as ‘I composed’ or as ‘I translated.’ ” 51 Grayson, 1973, p. 305. 52 Grayson, 1972, p. 35. Text Prologue Addressed to Filippo Brunellesch This prologue is found in the Florentine vernacular manuscript; it precedes the vernacular text, which, on the first folio, begins, “De pictura incipit. Lege feliciter. Prologus. Io solea.” 1 The artists whom Alberti quotes are Donatello (1386?–1446), Nencio (Lorenzo) Ghiberti (1378–1455), Luca Della Robbia (c. 1400–1482), and Masaccio (1401–1428). 2 Here the italian verb feci assumes the meaning of “I composed,” without allusion to “I translated,” proposed by Mallè (1950, p. 118) and accepted by Grayson (1973, p. 305). 3 Brunelleschi may have read the De Pictura attentively and suggested corrections that Alberti included. Letter to Giovanni Francesco Giovanni Francesco Gonzaga (1395–1444), son of Francesco, marquis of Mantua, title given to him by the emperor Sigismund in 1432. 1 Grayson correction: omits words; deferri iussi, which means “to have … brought.” 2 Grayson correction: translation; ingenuis artibus should be “noble arts” instead of “liberal arts.”

3 Grayson correction: translation; si qua est should be “if I have one” instead of “all my qualities best.” 4 Grayson correction: translation; “a devoted member among your servants” should be “your most devoted, among your family members.” Book One 1 Grayson correction: adds words; “to the best of our ability,” lacking in the Latin text. 2 Grayson correction: translation; “in cruder terms” should be “through good common sense.” See Cicero, De Amicitia, 19, and Horace, Sermones, 2, 2, 3. 3 Grayson correction: translation; “treated by anyone else” should be “and treated by nobody else, … , by means of written documents.” 4 In Book One of Euclid’s Elements (hereafter The Elements), the definition of the line immediatly follows the definition of the point: “The line is length without width.” 5 The concept of the surface as the extreme part of a body corresponds to the second definition of Book Eleven of The Elements: “The limit of a solid is the surface” and the fifth definition of Book One of The Elements: “Surface is what has length and width only.” 6 For the first time Alberti introduces the qualities of a surface in pictorial geometry, which can be of two types: permanent and changeable. 7 Grayson correction: omits words; minime, which means “in any way,” and “prorsus,” which means “completely.” 8 Grayson correction: translation; “horizon” should be “limit.” 9 Grayson correction: translation; “of one line as in a circle” should be “in the manner of a single circular line.” 10 Definition XV of Book One of The Elements reads: “Circle is a plane figure comprised by a single line, in such a way that all the straight lines, which fall on the line [itself], [i.e., on the

circumference of the circle] starting from a point amongst those that lie inside the figure, are equal to each other.” Note the concept of the “plane figure comprised by a single line” present in the definition of the Euclidean circle. 11 Definition XVI of Book One of The Elements reads: “That point is named then the center of the circle.” 12 The definition here reported by Alberti corresponds to XVII of Book One of The Elements: “Diameter of the circle is a straight line conducted through the centre and delimited on both parts by the circumference of the circle, a straight line that also cuts the circle in half.” 13 Alberti gives the name centermost line to the diameter of the circle because it passes through the center of the circle. 14 With this paragraph Alberti introduces the rectilinear figures that reflect the content of Definition XIX of Book One of The Elements: “Rectilinear figures are those enclosed by straight lines, so to say: trilateral figures those enclosed by three straight lines, quadrilateral those enclosed by four and multilateral those enclosed by more than four straight lines.” 15 Definition VIII of Book One of The Elements: “A flat angle is the reciprocal inclination of two lines on a plane, which meet each other and do not lie in a straight line.” 16 Definition X of Book One of The Elements: “When a straight line, raised upon another straight line, forms equal adjacent angles, each of the two equal angles is a right angle, and the raised straight line is called perpendicular to the one that it is raised upon.” 17 This is Postulate IV to Book One of The Elements: “And that all the angles be equal to each other.” 18 Definition XI of Book One of The Elements: “The obtuse angle is the one greater than a right one.” 19 Definition XII of Book One of The Elements: “The acute angle is the one less than a right one.”

20 With this term one must intend “the whole dorsal extension of a surface” in the same way that by “dorsal extension of a hand” one means the hand’s upper part, whereas the opposite part of the same hand is called “the palm” or “the hollow.” To “dorsal extension,” therefore, one opposes an “opposite” part, or “reverse.” The new terms “dorsal extension,” “peel,” and “skin” are in agreement with “good common sense” and with those natural principles that the author mentioned at the beginning. 21 Grayson correction: translation; “as a circular body, round in every way” should be “as the round body that can rotate, in every aspect.” 22 Grayson correction: translation; “the last outer layer” should be “the most remote skin.” 23 Grayson correction: omits word; pyramidumve, which means “or pyramids.” Through the addition of pyramidumve, present in the original Basel text, one sees that Alberti has considered other surfaces also, and precisely the pyramidal ones, which can have either circular bases (the “pyramis rotunda,” or the cone) or polygonal bases, which are the true and proper pyramids. For the presence of such figures in geometry in the Middle Ages, see Clagett, 1978, p. 541. Albrecht Dürer also used this term from medieval optics in his book Institutionum Geometricarum Libri Quatuor (1532), where he calls pyramides “cones,” from which he gets his famous conical sections. See Fig. 15. 24 Grayson correction: translation; “conformation of bodies” should be “the dorsal conformation.” Dorso is a natural quality of primary importance for the geometrical knowledge of a surface. Such a power is able to separate the surface in two. The dorsal extension of a surface makes one aware of both the seen and the opposite face. For example, a page can be a recto or a verso. These clarifications are fundamental in the theory of shadows, where Alberti introduces opposite surfaces to indicate that if a plane’s face is illuminated, the other, the opposite one, must be absolutely in shadow (see Book Two, paragraph 46).

25 Ancient philosophers who have treated vision problems include Plato, Aristotle, Euclid, and Ptolemy. Among the Arabs are Alkindi and Alhazen; and among the medieval Christian opticians are Grosseteste, Peckam, and Witelo. See V. Ronchi, Storia della luce (Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1983). 26 The concept of rays with the point recurs in paragraph 7. 27 For a long time, the ancients asked themselves if the rays issue from objects toward the eyes (intromission theory) or if they issue from the eyes toward the object (expulsion theory). Plato, Aristotle, and Euclid agreed with the second theory. Alhazen demonstrated that the rays injure the eyes and oblige us sometimes to close them. 28 It is not important for the painter whether the rays go toward the objects or if they come from them, only that the rays exist. 29 Grayson correction: translation; “tightly” should be “as straight as.” 30 On page xxxiii of the Italian edition (1975), Grayson says: “In the Latin text [Alberti] proposes, … it is clear that Alberti clings to the theory of Alhazen.” It is not a question of accepting an expulsion theory or an intromission theory. Alberti uses either one or the other to illustrate the geometrical principles concerning the new pictorial theory. 31 Grayson correction: translation; “all their dimensions” should be “the entire distances.” 32 Grayson correction: translation; “on all sides” should be “on one side and on the other”; Grayson correction: omits words; circa se, which means “around itself”. 33 Grayson correction: omits words; quodam instrumento, which means “by means of a certain instrument.” 34 Grayson correction: translation; “in some way opposed to one another” should be “that one considers to be joined together.” 35 The theory of the visual triangle is implicit in the Optica (Euclid). 36 Grayson correction: translation; “therefore, are open” should be “are therefore known.”

37 Grayson correction: translation; “the third is the one which lies within the eye” should be “The third one, instead, is of course the main angle.” 38 This debate is mostly found in Arab authors, particularly in Alhazen. See A. I. Sabra, The Optics of Ibn Al-Haytham, Books I–III, On Direct Vision, translated with Introduction and Commentary (London: Warburg Institute, 1989), see also G. Federici Vescovini, Studi sulla prospettiva medievale (Turin: Univesità di Torino, 1965). The reference is significant on the reflecting properties of eyes, whose surfaces are similar to living mirrors. On this specific matter, see Robert Grosseteste, De Iride seu De Iride et Speculo, and Egidio Guidubaldi, ed., Dal “De Luce” di R. Grosseteste (Florence, 1978). 39 Definition IV of Euclid’s Optica is “Things seen under greater angles appear bigger, those seen under smaller angles appear smaller and those seen under equal angles appear equal.” 40 From Definition IV of Euclid’s Optica, one could deduce that, at a great distance, a quantity is able to reduce itself to one point; but in Theorem III of the same work it is clear that for all visible things there exists a great distance from where everything is no longer seen. 41 See Theorem XXIV of Euclid’s Optica: “The eye approaching a sphere, the part seen will be smaller, but one will seem to see it bigger.” 42 Grayson correction: omits word; ilico, which means “immediately.” 43 Here the Latin word familiares appears meaning “friends.” 44 This second Albertian principle refers to Definition IV of Euclid’s Optica; see note 39 above. 45 Grayson correction: translation; “like teeth” should be “like a cage.” 46 Grayson correction: omits words; (1) toto tractu, which means “for the whole track”; (2) eodem loco, which means “at the same point.”

47 Grayson correction: translation; “on all sides” should be “from one part and from the other part.” 48 Grayson correction: omits word; plane, which means “even”; and adds words; “in their midst,” lacking in the Latin text. 49 Grayson correction: omits word; illico, which means “immediately.” 50 Grayson correction: translation; “body” should be “surface.” 51 Grayson correction: translation; “a different light” should be “a light source opposite”; and omits word; illic, which means “in that place.” 52 Grayson correction: translation; “here and there” should be “in the appropriate places.” 53 Grayson correction: omits word; ipso, which means “alone.” 54 The philosophers who spoke of light and color are Plato and Aristotle. 55 Grayson correction: omits words; obscurescendo sensim, which means “darkening little by little.” 56 Grayson correction: translation; “another” should be “only one”; and adds words; (1) “a pair of others,” lacking in the Latin text; (2) “though,” lacking in the Latin text; (3) “of each pair,” lacking in the Latin text. 57 For each of the four elements Plato had made a solid correspond in Timaeus, so that red corresponded to fire, formed by tetrahedrons; light blue or blue corresponded to air, formed by octahedrons; green corresponded to water, formed by icosahedrons; and gray corresponded to earth, formed by cubes. A fifth element, suggested by Aristotle, was ether, formed by dodecahedrons. See Fig. 36. 58 Grayson correction: translation; “So, there are four kinds of colours” should be “The kinds of those four colors consist, therefore.” 59 What Alberti is saying constitutes a crucial point for all Renaissance painters. The sky definitively ceases to be flat, dark, and monotone: it begins to gradually assume its own natural

color. The phenomenon was observed for the first time by the Flemish Limbourg and Van Eyck, and it manifested itself, as a result of Alberti’s treatise, in Piero della Francesca, Mantegna, Beato Angelico, Perugino, Antonello of Messina, Giovanni Bellini, and above all, in Leonardo. 60 Grayson correction: omits words; (1) pulchre, which means “excellently”; (2) qua, which means “where”; (3) ipse, which means “by itself”; and translation; “on colour” should be “because a color.” 61 Grayson correction: translation; (1) “the clarity” should be “the luminosity”; (2) “the colour becomes clear and brighter” should be “the luminosity and the whiteness of a color cease, while, …, they shine and become more radiant.” 62 Grayson correction: translation; “one or other” should be “some.” 63 Grayson correction: translation; “exactly” should be “if nothing else.” Where Alberti shows a case that characterizes the shadows generated by heavenly bodies, Grayson emphasizes the concept that the sun produces shadows “exactly” equal to the bodies. Grayson repeats this in the caption illustrating figure 3 (1991, p. 47): “(i) Light in parallel rays from the sun and stars produces a shadow equal in size to the body.” Thus Grayson generalizes that light with parallel rays produces a shadow equal to the original quantity, whereas that happens only in a special case. See Fig. 43. 64 Grayson correction: omits words; radij solis, which means “the rays of the sun.” 65 Grayson correction: omits word; omnis, which means “every.” 66 Grayson correction: omits words; ad pingendum, which means “for the purpose of painting.” 67 Grayson correction: omits word; admodum, which means “fully.” 68 Grayson correction: translation; “they are doing” should be “they would desire.” 69 Grayson correction: translation; “so transparent and like glass” should be “completely of glass or transparent.”

70 Grayson correction: differences in Latin of Basel edition; (1) veris visendis corporibus means “having to observe real bodies”; (2) suis locis constitutis means “once [that we have] established the respective positions”; (3) eminus means “at a distance.” 71 Grayson correction: translation; “by the light of nature” should be “guided by Nature.” 72 Grayson correction: differences in Latin of Basel edition; lacks (1) et varias, which means “and different”; (2) pyramidesque, which means “and pyramids.” 73 Grayson correction: translation; “his visual pyramid to be cut at some point” should be “this visual pyramid be cut somewhere”; and omits words; (1) istic, which means “here”; (2) quales … tales, which means “exactly like.” 74 Grayson correction: translation; “in the painting arise” should be “produce painting.” 75 Grayson correction: translation; “stand perpendicularly” should be “lean upon a side.” 76 Grayson correction: differences in Latin of Basel edition; lacks lateribus, which means “because of the sides.” The surfaces can be stretched out or, no matter how, inclined: these last ones include both the vertical surfaces, which are the normal walls or façades of a house, and the inclined ones, such as the pitch of a roof or the faces of a pyramid (compare Book Two, paragraph 33), since both vertical and inclined surfaces lean upon a side. See Fig. 47. 77 Grayson correction: adds a word; “similar,” lacking in the Latin text. 78 Grayson correction: omits words; ad cubitum, which means “in relation to the cubit.” 79 Evander was the founder of Pallanteum, the village that rose on the Palatine hill before Romulus founded Rome. When Hercules went to Pallanteum, Evander was there to welcome him. 80 Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae, I, 1–3.

81 In the first part, one takes into consideration the case of Evander, who was proportionate to Hercules although the first one was smaller than the second one; in the second part, one examines the case in which Hercules would have been equal to the giant Antaeus in size. 82 Grayson correction: differences in Latin of Basel edition; (1) Ut enim means “when, in fact”; (2) pari … dimensione means “equal dimensioning.” 83 Grayson correction: figures (1991, p. 50); “similar angles” should be “equal angles.” See Fig. 54. 84 Grayson correction: Basel Edition, translation; “are the angles and the rays” should be “besides the lines, are the rays themselves as well.” 85 Grayson correction: translation; “which in proportional quantities will be equal, and in non-proportional quantities unequal” should be “which in proportional quantities of a painting to be evaluated according to a number, will certainly be comparable to the real ones, whereas in the nonproportional ones they will not be comparable to them.” 86 Grayson correction: translation; (1) “for any one” should be “A quantity … between two”; (2) “more or less rays” should be “longer or shorter rays.” 87 Grayson correction: translation; “equal” should be “proportional.” 88 Grayson correction: translation; “to pursue all the mathematicians’ rules” should be “to obtain everything from the method of the mathematicians.” This passage constitutes a prelude to the “excellent method” that Alberti is about to express, a method that will be called “abbreviated construction” to distinguish it from Brunelleschi’s “legitimate construction.” The painter, in fact, cannot obtain his perspective by lingering on the construction of triangles and pyramids, as happens in “legitimate construction,” but because he operates directly on a panel or on a wall, he will learn in subsequent paragraphs a different method, a truly pictorial one,

that will facilitate for him the way of determining edges on the picture plane. 89 The case of linear quantities nonequidistant from the cut, which certainly have a visual ray equidistant to themselves through the eye, is considered. One deals with a fundamental principle on which the construction of the image of the straight line in perspective is based, i.e., the theorem of distance. On page 52 (1991), Grayson writes in the caption for his figure 7: “ii) GH, IJ, KL are equidistant from (i.e. parallel to) some visual rays. GH is parallel to the ray T. IJ is parallel to the ray R. KL is parallel to the ray S. GH, IJ, KL occupy spaces on the intersection PP relative to the angles they make with the rays that strike them.” The theorem of distance instead requires that the quantities must be found on the same straight line beyond the cut (i.e., the picture plane). See Fig. 62. 90 Grayson correction: translation; “half their size” should be “smaller than half-size.” 91 Grayson correction: differences in Latin of Basel edition; translation; “by the gods” should be “by a god.” 92 Protagoras (c. 484/481–c. 411 b.c.), Greek sophist. The most direct reference to Protagoras is in Plato’s Theaetetus (152 a), where Socrates, speaking of knowledge, pronounces Protagoras’s proposition: “man is the measure of all things.” 93 Timanthes (Pliny, XXXV, 72–74), fifth century b.c, famous painter; contemporary and rival of Parrhasius and Zeuxis. 94 Grayson correction: omits word; “almost.” 95 Grayson correction: translation; “rectangle” should be “quadrangle … with right angles.” 96 Grayson correction: translation; “a point” should be “only one point.” Leonardo drew with one eye the “centric point” (Manuscript A, Institut de France, folio 36 b; compare J. P. Richter, ed., The Notebooks of Leonardo da vinci [New York: Dover, 1970], p. 55). Not only Leonardo but Dürer also reproduced the eye directly on paper. See Fig. 67.

97 Grayson correction: differences in Latin of Basel edition; superbipartiens should be subsesquialter,” i.e., “contained one and a half times.” See Appendix 2, note 4. 98 Grayson correction: translation; “surface” should include “small.” 99 Grayson correction: differences in Latin of Basel edition; translation; “Then I place a point above this line, directly over one end of it, at the same height as the centric point is from the base line of the rectangle” should be “Hence, I place a single point above, in respect to this line, as far up as the centric point in the [rectangular] quadrangle is distant from the subdivided baseline.” See Appendix 1, note 10. 100 Grayson correction: translation; “rectangle” should be “squaring.” 101 Grayson correction: omits word; forte, which means “perhaps”; and translation; “of those in front” should be “of those [men] who precede [them].” 102 Grayson correction: translation; “at first acquaintance, will probably never grasp it however hard he tries” should be “he who will have failed to understand immediately will sometimes with difficulty learn the same things, with a certain or great effort.” Book Two 1 Plutarch, Alexander, LXXIV, 4. 2 Plutarch, Agesilaus, II, 2. 3 Quintilian, Institutionis oratoriae Libri, 12, 10, 9. 4 Praxiteles, Athenian sculptor, lived in the first half of the fourth century B.C. 5 Grayson correction: translation; “for money” should be “at a price.” Zeuxis lived in the second half of the fifth century B.C. 6 Grayson correction: translation; (1) “living things” should be “living beings”; (2) “like a god” should be “a second god.” 7 Narcissus was a young man of remarkable beauty, who, having seen his own reflection in a stream, fell in love with himself and, because of the fervent ardor he felt for himself, died of

lovesickness. His body was transformed into the homonymous flower (Ovid, Metamorphoses, 3, 339, and following). 8 Pliny, XXXV, 15–16. 9 Pliny, XXXV, 15. 10 Plutarch, Marcellus, XX. 11 Diogenes Laertius, V, 75–83. 12 Pliny, XXXV, 17 and 18. 13 Grayson correction: translation; “ancient” should be “very ancient.” 14 Pliny, XXXV, 100. 15 Aulus Gellius, Noctes Atticae, Book XV, Chap. 31; Pliny, XXXV, 104 and 105. 16 Pliny, XXXV, 19. 17 Pliny, XXXV, 20. 18 Pliny (XXXV, 19). 19 Pliny, XXXV, 137, and XXXVI, 32; Diogenes Laertius, III, 4–5. 20 Pliny, XXXIV, 27. 21 Pliny, XXXV, 135. Grayson correction; translation; (1) “statues” should be “ensigns”; (2) “among the liberal arts” should be “among praiseworthy arts.” 22 Pliny, XXXV, 77. 23 Pliny, XXXV, 147. 24 Pliny, XXXV, 77. 25 Pliny, XXXVII, 5. 26 Grayson correction: omits word; ilico, which means “on the spot.” 27 Pliny, XXXV, 67, and Quintilian XII, 10, 4. 28 Pliny, XXXV, 81–83. 29 I agree with Grayson (Alberti De Pictura [Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1975], p. xxxvii, paragraph 31) that the use of the veil was already present in the late medieval period. 30 Grayson correction: omits words; (1) pingenti, which means “toward him who paints”; (2) recte, which means “correctly.”

31 Grayson correction: omits words; (1) istoc, which means “over here”; (2) ilico, which means “there.” 32 For the veil, see Fig. 75. 33 Pliny, XXXIV, 39–43 and 49. 34 I.e., the centric line. 35 Grayson correction: translation; (1) “other similar” should be “whatever”; (2) “perpendicular” should be “that lean upon.” 36 Grayson correction: omits word; solo, which means “in relation to the ground”; and translation; “standing” should be “that lean upon.” 37 Grayson correction: Basel edition; (1) moenium is replaced by medium; (2) “of walls” should be “a middle point” (more suitable in the context). 38 Grayson correction: translation; (1) “a drawing board” should be “small area”; (2) “small rectangles” should be “small [rectangular] quadrangles.” 39 Grayson inscribes the circle in a square that he subdivides into minor squares, which he defines as “rectangles” when he translates from the Latin. Here Alberti does not want to refer to the four lateral tangent points of the circle. See Fig. 82. 40 Pliny, XXXV, 51. 41 Grayson correction: omits words; (1) si quae sunt, which means “if there are some”; (2) ad, which means “until.” 42 Grayson correction: omits words; suis locis, which means “to appropriate places.” 43 Grayson correction: translation; “The painter Daemon” should be “The painter of demes.” Parrhasius was the painter who depicted the demes of the Athenians. See Pliny, XXXV, 69, 71. 44 Pliny, XXXV, 129. 45 Virgil, Aeneid, III, 590–595. 46 Pliny, XXXV, 27, 71, 93. 47 Cicero, De Natura deorum, I, XXX.

48 Grayson correction: omits words; illecebris quibusdam, which means “rich in certain stimuli.” 49 Grayson correction: translation; “a picture” should be “historia”; and omits word; viri, which means “younger men.” 50 Grayson correction: translation; “faces turned away” should be “an opposing face.” 51 Grayson correction: translation; “part clothed” should be “partly veiled.” 52 Pliny, XXXV, 90, and Quintilian, II, 12. 53 Homer, The Odyssey, Book VI, verses 183–185. 54 Plutarch, Life of Pericles, III, 2. 55 Plutarch, Life of Pericles, III, 2. 56 Grayson correction: translation; Basel edition translation; “picti” is replaced in the Basel edition by “quieti,” i.e., “idle” more suitable in the context. 57 Cicero, De amicitia, XIV, 50, and Horace, Ars Poetica, 101–103. 58 Seneca, De Ira, I, I, 3–6. 59 Pliny, XXXIV, 77. 60 Pliny, XXXV, 79, 98. 61 Pliny, XXXV, 73, Cicero (Orator, 22, 74), and Quintilian (II, 13, 13); however, in Quintilian Timanthes is called Cythnius instead of Cyprius. 62 Giotto is the only not ancient painter quoted in the treatise. 63 Grayson correction: omits words; “et huiusmodi causis corpora moveri dicuntur,” which means “also for reasons of this kind one says that the bodies move.” 64 Quintilian, XI, 3, 105. 65 Quintilian, XII, 10, 5. 66 Grayson correction: translation; “vigorous athletic quality” should be “agile deftness.” 67 Ovid, Metamorphoses, I, lines 583 ff. 68 Cicero, Brutus, XVIII, 70; Pliny, XXXV, 50; Quintilian XII, 10, 3.

69 Pliny XXXV, 130, 131. 70 Quintilian, XII, 10, 4. Grayson correction: translation; “the most eminent ancient painter” should be “a very celebrated and very ancient painter.” 71 Cicero, Orator, XXII, 73, where Apelles is quoted instead of Zeuxis. 72 Vitruvius, De Architectura, VII, 7–14. 73 Pliny, XXXV, 129. 74 Grayson correction: translation; (1) “from the dead” should be “from the realm of the dead”; (2) “from the heavens” should be “from this world.” 75 Grayson correction: translation; (1) “to one next” should be “to this one who precedes”; (2) “and the next” should be “to [the other] who follows,” i.e., one of two. 76 Virgil, Aeneid, IV, 138–139. Book Three 1 Grayson correction: translation; “what you see represented appears to be in relief and just like those bodies” should be “that you see appear, each [at the same time], prominent and very much like the assigned bodies.” 2 Quintilian, XII, I, 1. Grayson correction: translation; “the liberal arts” should be “the praiseworthy arts.” 3 Pliny, XXXV, 76–77. 4 Grayson correction: translation; “Next” should be “very near.” 5 Lucian, De Calumnia, 5. 6 Grayson correction: translation; “rending her hair” should be “in the act of lacerating herself.” 7 Hesiod, The Theogony, 907. Grayson correction: translation; “Egle” should be “Aglaia.” 8 Pausanias, Attica IX, 35, 2; Seneca, De beneficiis, I, 3, 2–7; Strabo, Geographia, IX, 2, 40.

9 Phidias (500–c. 431 B.C.); Strabo, Geographia, VIII, 3,30. 10 Grayson correction: translation; “of learning” should be “of correct learning.” 11 Grayson correction: omits words; “quasi picturae elementa,” which means “almost the elements of painting.” 12 Grayson correction: translation; “full around the mouth” should be “flaccid cheeks.” 13 Grayson correction: translation; “beauty is not a thing less pleasing than it is required” should be “beauty pleases beyond measure no more than is required.” 14 Quintilian, XII, 10, 9. 15 Grayson correction: omits words; “Itaque non in postremis,” which means “Consequently, not lastly.” 16 Cicero, De oratore, II, XVI, 69–70. 17 Grayson correction: translation; “publicly dedicated” should be “at public expense.” 18 Galen, De usu partium, XVII, 1. 19 Quintilian, II, 3, 6. 20 Pliny, XXXV, 107–109. 21 Quintilian, XII, 10, 9. 22 Pliny, XXXV, 128. 23 Modulos here are “schemes” on paper, or cartoons, sketches, and preliminary studies. Such schemes with parallels can be found in Masaccio (head of the Virgin, in the Trinity); in Raffaello’s grids; and in Leonardo, who reports chequerings, like those present in the Torso and Bust of the Man in Profile, Gallerie dell’Accademia, Venice. A particular example is the Triumphal Arch made by Dürer for the emperor Maximilian. 24 Plutarch, De liberis educandis, 7. 25 Pliny, XXXV, 80. 26 Pliny, XXXV, 84.

27 Grayson correction: translation; “since it helps the painter, among other things, to acquire favour” should be “since this is an aid not only for definite objects but also to catch favor with respect to the painter.” 28 Grayson correction: translation; “I implore them, should they in future exist” should be “I beg them again and again. – Oh! If there will be some! – ” 29 Cicero, Brutus, XVIII, 71. Grayson correction: translation; “Nothing, they say, was born perfect” should be “In fact, they say that nothing is born [and is], at the same moment, also perfect.” 30 Grayson correction: translation; “my successors” should be “they who will follow us.” Appendixes Appendix 1 1 Cecil Grayson, “The Text of Alberti’s De Pictura,” Italian Studies 23 (1968): 71–92. 2 Grayson, 1972; 1991. 3 Grayson, 1973; 1975; another reprint 1980. 4 Grayson, 1968, and Grayson, 1973, pp. 299–301 and 307–320. 5 Grayson, 1973, pp. 301–307, 320–329, and 332–340. 6 Grayson, 1973; on pp. 320–329 he attempts comparisons between the vernacular and Latin readings but does not explain how the texts differ. 7 Grayson, 1973, p. 307. 8 Grayson, 1973, p. 328. 9 Grayson, 1973, again on page 328; also, Cecil Grayson, “L. B. Albert’s ‘Costruzione Legittina,’” Italian Studies (1964): 14–27. 10 See Book One, note 99, and the text in paragraph 20. Appendix 2 1 Maria Picchio Simonelli, “On Alberti’s Treatises of Art and Their Chronological Relationship,” Yearbook of Italian Studies 1

(1971): 75–102. 2 Grafton, 2001, p. 355. 3 Guglielmo Gorni, “Leon Battista Alberti, Opere volgari vol. III, a cura di Cecil Grayson,” Studi Medievali, series 3, vol. 14 (1973): 443. When Grayson and Gorni wrote, it was not yet known that there were twenty Latin manuscripts. 4 Gino Arrighi, “Leon Battista Alberti e le scienze esatte,” in Convegno Internazionale indetto nel V centenario di Leon Battista Alberti (Rome: Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, 1974), pp. 155–212. See Book One, note 97. 5 Grayson, 1973, p. 327. 6 Rudolf Wittkower, Idea and Image: Studies in the Italian Renaissance (London: Thames & Hudson, 1978). Italian Edition, Idea e immagine: Studi sul Rinascimento Italiano (Torino: Einauoli, 1992), p. 243. 7 Lucia Bertolini, “Sulla precedenza della redazione volgare del ‘De Pictura’ di Leon Battista Alberti,” in Studi per Umberto Carpi: Un Saluto da allievi e colleghi pisani, edited by Marco Santagata and Alfredo Stussi (Pisa: ETS, 2000), pp. 181–210.

Illustrations 1a. The Point … the point is a sign, so to speak, that in no way can be divided into parts.

1b. The Line …for us, the line will be a sign, the length of which is certainly possible to divide into parts, but [its] width will be so thin that it [the width] can never be divided. The straight line is a sign traced lengthways directly from point to point. The curved line is the one that will have gone from point to point, not through a rectilinear path, but after having made a curve.

2a. The Surface If more lines stick together like close threads in a cloth, they will make a surface.

2b. The Extreme Part of a Body The surface, in fact, is the extreme part of a body, which is not recognizable through a certain depth but only by length and width, as well as by its qualities.

3. The First Quality of a Surface: The Known External Path The permanent qualities of surfaces are then two. One is unquestionably that which appears along the known external path, by means of which the surface encloses itself; [a path] that some properly call limit. If we are allowed [to do it], for a certain analogy with the Latin term, let us call it border, or, as long as it pleases you, edge. And precisely the edge itself will be defined either by one or more lines. Let it be closed in the manner of a single circular [line]; by more [lines], either by a curved and by a second straight one, or also by more straight and curved lines. Certainly, the edge

itself that contains and encloses the whole surface of a circle is a circular line.

4. The Circle 4a. Actually, the circle is a form of surface that a line encloses just like a crown. That is why, if in the middle there will be a point, all the radii drawn from this exact point directly to the crown are equal to each other in length. The same point is called, in fact, the center of the circle.

4b. The straight line that will have intersected the crown of the circle twice and that will pass through the center is called, among mathematicians, the diameter of the circle.

4c. Let us give to this very line the name of centermost line, and let us accept from mathematicians what they say at this point: that no line, that cuts the border, makes equal angles, [starting] from the crown of the circle, except for the one that passes through the center.

5. Rectilinear Figures and Their Transformation 5a. From the things that I have examined, in fact, one can easily understand how, after having altered the course of the edge, the surface itself loses, on [the] one hand shape, on the other [its] original name as well, and that [surface], which was before perhaps called triangle now will be called quadrangle, or, of many angles, one after another. The lines and the angles increase in number.

5b. An edge will certainly be said changed if the lines or angles should become, in any way whatsoever, not only more numerous but also more obtuse [the angles], or longer [the lines], or more acute [the angles], or shorter [the lines]. The lines and the angles do not increase in number.

6. The Angles 6a. Without [any] doubt, an angle, included between two lines which intersect themselves mutually, is the extremity of a surface.

6b. There are three kinds of angles: the right one, the obtuse one, and the acute one. The right angle is one of the four angles that is described by two straight lines which intersect each other reciprocally, in such a way that it is equal to each of the three [angles] that remain. Hence one says that all right angles are equal to each other. The obtuse angle is the one that is greater than a right [angle]. The acute [angle] is the one that is smaller than a right one.

7. The Other Quality of a Surface: The Skin or the Dorsal Extension What is left for us to speak about is the other quality of surfaces, which is like a skin stretched out, so to speak, over the whole dorsal extension of a surface. This is divided into three [kinds]. One, in fact, is called uniform and plane, the other humpbacked and spherical, the third curved in and concave. To these, one must add, in fourth place, the surfaces that are formed by preceding ones.

8. The Uniform and Plane Surface The plane surface is the one that a ruler, placed on any part of it, adheres to it in a uniform way; the surface of perfectly clear and calm water will be most similar to this.

9. The Spherical Surface The spherical surface imitates the dorsal extension of a sphere.

10. The Sphere A semicircle rotates around its diameter. The sphere is defined as the round body that can rotate, in every aspect; in the middle of it there is the point to which all the extreme parts of that body are equidistant.

11. The Sphere: What Does “in Every Aspect” Mean? The sphere is defined as the round body that can rotate, in every aspect; in the middle of it there is the point to which all the extreme parts of that body are equidistant. In a sphere, although choosing axes (i.e., diameters) of rotation different from the first one, the same dorsal extension will appear.

12. The Concave Surface The concave surface is the one that, in its innermost extremity, is placed, so to speak, beneath the most remote skin of the sphere, just like the innermost surfaces in eggshells.

13. The Composite Surface of the Cylinder The composite surface, instead, is the one that imitates, according to a first measuring, the plane surface, and, according to another, either the concave or the spherical ones, which are the inner surfaces of pipes and the outer ones of columns, or pyramids.

14. The Composite Surface of the Cone The composite surface, instead, is the one that imitates, according to a first measuring, the plane surface, and, according to another, either the concave or the spherical ones, which are the inner surfaces of pipes and the outer ones of columns, or pyramids.

15. The Pyramids and the Cones

16. If the Distance or Position Changes In fact, [if] the distance or position [is] changed, it is necessary that the surfaces appear either smaller or larger, or in any case not with the same edge they used to have, or, in like manner, increased or diminished in color.

17. The Visual Rays: Intromission Theory Let one, without doubt, then, conveniently imagine the rays as certain extremely fine threads, connected as straight as they can [be] in a single extremity as in a bundle and accepted in the same place and at the same moment inside the eye, where the sense of sight resides.

18. The Visual Rays: Expulsion Theory In which place, let them present themselves, furthermore, not unlike from a shaft of rays, from which they, in exiting extended in length, certainly run just like very straight shoots toward the surface placed in front of them.

19. The Extreme Rays But among these rays there are some differences that I consider most necessary to know. They truly differ in terms of potentialities and tasks. Some, in fact, by touching the edges of surfaces, measure the entire distances of a surface. Let us now call these rays extreme because they hover for sure to barely touch the terminal parts.

20. The Median Rays Other rays, undoubtedly, either received by or issuing from the whole dorsal extension of the surface, also perform their task within that pyramid of which we shall shortly speak, at the right moment. They are imbued, in fact, with the same colors and light, of which the surface itself shines. Let us, therefore, call these median rays.

21. The Centric Ray There is also a ray that may be called centric because of a certain similarity with the centermost line of which we spoke, and this is because it comes to the surface in such a way as to form, around itself, equal angles on one side and on the other.

22. The Potentialities and Task of the Extreme Rays Quantities are certainly measured by the extreme rays. A quantity is in fact the space that lies on a surface between two distinct points of an edge, [space] that the eye measures by means of these extreme rays, as if by means of a certain instrument shaped like a divider. 22a. the height that [there is] between the highest [point] and the lowest one,

22b. the width that [there is] between one on the right and one on the left,

22c. the distance that [there is] between a closer one and a farther one,

22d. any other dimension whatsoever.

23. The Visual Triangle 23a. From this, it is customary to say that vision is affected through the well-known triangle, the base of which is the quantity seen, and the sides of which are the same rays themselves that extend from the points of a quantity to the eye.

23b. And at this point one cannot argue whether sight takes place, as they say, precisely at the juncture of the inner nerve or rather on the eye surface itself as if the images were shown on an animated mirror.

24. The Visual Triangle: First Rule

24a. As the main visual angle resides, then, in the eye, this rule is drawn: of course, the more acute the angle is in the eye, the smaller the size appears.

24b. But things being so, nevertheless, it happens in some surfaces that the closer the observer’s eye is to such [a surface], the eye sees so much smaller a part of it; the farther [the eye is from the surface], it [sees] a considerably larger part of that surface; one knows that this is just what happens in this way on the spherical surface.

25. The Visual Triangle: Second Rule At this point, then, it is my habit to expound a rule to my friends: the more the rays are employed in seeing, the greater the seen quantity is estimated; conversely, the fewer rays there are, the smaller the quantity.

26. The Pyramid of Rays As for the rest, these extreme rays, catching, like points, the whole edge of a surface, surround the whole surface itself like a cage, whence they say that vision takes place by means of a pyramid of rays.

27. The Pyramid Has the Shape of an Oblong Body The pyramid has the shape of an oblong body; all the straight lines lead from the base of it upward to meet at a single apex. The base of the pyramid is the surface seen. The sides of the pyramid correspond to the visual rays themselves that are called, as we have said, extreme. The apex of the pyramid will be placed in the eye where the angles of the quantities meet in one single place.

28. The Potentialities and Task of the Median Rays The median rays are that multitude of rays which, enclosed by the extreme rays, is contained within the pyramid. These rays, furthermore, certainly do what an animal does, they say, such as the chameleon and other similar beasts, that assume the colors of nearby objects when struck by fear, in order not to be easily spotted by hunters. This is precisely what the median rays accomplish. From the contact with the surface, in fact, until the apex of the pyramid, for the whole track, they are so impregnated with the acquired variety of light and colors that, if they were to be cut in any place, at the same point they would give off the absorbed light itself and the same color.

29. The Median Rays over a Long Distance And yet concerning these median rays, it is well known, first as a fact itself, that they are weakened over a long distance and that they cause a loss of [visual] sharpness. The reason why this happens has been found,

actually, in the following way: since in fact the same rays and all the other visual rays, impregnated and full of lights and colors, pass through the air, and the air itself is impregnated of a certain density, it occurs that the weakened rays lose a great part of [their] charge while they travel through the air.

30. Equal Adjacent Angles We call the centric ray the only one that hits a quantity in such a way that equal angles from one part and from the other part correspond to angles adjacent to one another.

31a. …it is rightly called the leader and even the prince of rays.

31b. …when the distance is changed and, generally, the position of the centric ray, the surface immediately appears altered. This, in fact, will certainly appear either smaller or larger, or, finally, modified, conforming to the disposition of lines and angles between each other. The position of the centric ray and the distance contribute very much, then, to the determination of vision.

31. The Centric Ray Is Called the Leader and Even the Prince of Rays 32. The Reception of Light: The Candlelight But there is yet some such third condition on account of which surfaces present [themselves] altered and varied to the observers. It is surely the reception of light. In fact, it is possible to see, on a spherical and concave surface – if one only has a single light source – that on one side the surface is somewhat dark and on another lighter.

33. The Reception of Light: The Sun … furthermore, at the same distance, and the original position of the centric [ray] remaining the same – provided that this surface itself lies under a light source opposite to the previous one – you will see that the parts, which situated as they were in that place beneath the opposite light source, become dark, and the same parts that were first in shadow light up.

34. Lights and Colors It is evident that colors vary because of light, since every color in shade does not appear the same as [the same color] placed under the rays of light. In fact, shadow shows a dark color, while light shows a clear and luminous one. Philosophers say that not one [object] can be seen if it is not covered by light and color.

35. The Colors Although not here illustrated, it is important to recognize these four fundamental points of Alberti’s theory of colors.

36. The Four Elements And in fact, so to speak, there is the color of fire that they call red; then the color of air as well, which is called sky blue or azure; the color of water is green. The earth, instead, has the color of ashes.

37. The Green Color Species The kinds of those four colors consist, therefore, of quite countless species in proportion to the mixture of black and white. We see, in fact, the

verdant leaves gradually lose their greenness until they become pale.

38. The Sky-Blue Color Species We observe this same thing in the atmosphere itself when, suffused as it is most times with whitish vapor close to the horizon, [it] gradually returns to its proper color. 38a.

38b. Jan van Eyck, from The Mystic Lamb (1428–1432).

38c. Unknown painter, The Ideal Town (1472?).

39. The Red Color Species Furthermore, in roses too, we observe this: that some are like full and vivid purple, others are like maidens’ cheeks, others like pure-white ivory.

40. The Ash Color Species The color of the earth has its species through the combination of white and black also.

41. The Lights of the Stars: The Sun, the Moon, and Lucifer

The lights of the stars, in fact, produce shadows, if nothing else, equal to the bodies.

42. The Shadows of Fire … whereas [the shadows] of fire are greater than the bodies themselves.

43. Figure 3 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 47); see note 63 to Book One

44. The Reflection of Rays The intercepted rays either reflect toward another place or return toward themselves. They are reflected, for example, when the rays of the sun rebound from the surface of water to ceilings; and precisely, as mathematicians demonstrate, every reflection of rays occurs at equal angles between each other.

45. The Visual Pyramid 45a. That this truly happens this way, the painters demonstrate in the moment in which they move away from what they paint and place themselves further back [from the painting] to look for the apex of this pyramid itself, guided by Nature, from where they perceive that everything is more correctly judged and measured. Facsimile drawing of Las Meninas, by Diego Velázquez, Prado, Madrid (1656).

45b. But since this surface coincides with the single one either of a panel or of a wall on which the painter tries to represent the multiple and different surfaces and pyramids included in a single pyramid …

46. The Visual Pyramid and the Cut … It will be necessary that this visual pyramid be cut somewhere, so that the painter expresses here, by means of lines and by painting, the edges and the colors – exactly like those – that the intersection will have produced.

47. A Discussion about Surfaces: 1 Some surfaces lie down stretched out like floors of buildings, and certain ones are distant in a uniform way from a pavement. Others lean upon a side, as for example are the walls and [the] remaining surfaces collinear to them.

48. A Discussion about Surfaces: 2 One says, then, that the surfaces are distant in a uniform way from each other when the intervening distance between them is the same as [that] between any of their points. Collinear surfaces are those on which the same straight line, carried through any of their parts, touches uniformly, as are the surfaces of square pilasters that stand in rectilinear succession along a porch.

49. The Proposition of Mathematicians … it is necessary to add that proposition of mathematicians from which one demonstrates that if a straight line intersects two sides of some triangle, and this very line that cuts and lastly creates a triangle is equidistant from one of the two lines of the first triangle, the greater [triangle] will then certainly be proportional to this minor one because of the sides.

50. The Proportional Triangles: 1 We say that the triangles, the sides and angles of which preserve exactly the same relationship among themselves, are proportional; that is why, if one of the two sides of a triangle is two and a half times greater in length than the base, and the other is three times, …

51. The Proportional Triangles: 2 … all such triangles, whether they are surely greater than this or smaller, will be proportional to each other provided that they have, so to speak, the same ratio of sides in relation to the base. The ratio, in fact, that arises in a greater triangle, of one part of it with respect to another part, will turn out to be the same in a smaller triangle; therefore, triangles that result in this way will be called, for us, all proportional to each other.

52. A Certain Comparison 52a. In order to understand this in a clearer way also, we shall turn to a certain comparison. A very small man is certainly proportional to a bigger one in relation to the cubit,

52b. whereas the proportion in Hercules’ limbs was not different from that [which] would have been in the body of the giant Antaeus.

53. The Proportional Triangles: 3

If these [notions] are now sufficiently understood, we are in a position to evaluate how much the thought of the mathematicians leads us toward our purpose: that every intersection equidistant from the base of some triangle creates a triangle similar, as those say, to that proper greater triangle, in the way that for us [is] in reality proportional.

54. Figure 5 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 50); see note 83 to Book One

55. The Proportional Visual Triangles 55a. The parts of a visual triangle, besides the lines, are the rays themselves as well, which in proportional quantities of a painting to be evaluated according to a number, will certainly be comparable to the real ones, whereas in the nonproportional ones they will not be comparable to them. A quantity, in fact, between two of these nonproportional quantities, will involve either longer or shorter rays.

55b. Let then our every single argument made in respect to triangles be transferred to the pyramid. And let it be certain to us, in fact, that not one of the quantities of a seen surface, which are equidistant from the cut, generates in painting any distortion whatsoever, because those equidistant quantities are undoubtedly proportional, in every equidistant cut, to their corresponding ones.

56. Equidistant Quantities from the Cut As the question is so, it follows that [if] the quantities from which an area is defined, or with which an edge is measured are not deformed, no deformation of the edge occurs in the painting, …

57. Equidistant Surfaces from the Cut … it turns out clearly that every cut of a visual pyramid equidistant from a seen surface is proportional to the observed surface.

58. Surfaces Not Equidistant from the Cut But since there are very many surfaces not equidistant, we must investigate them diligently with the purpose of illustrating every kind of cut. It would actually be long, quite difficult, and arduous in these cuts of triangles and of a pyramid to obtain everything from the method of the mathematicians. Hence, as it is our habit, let us proceed in speaking as painters.

59. Quantities Equidistant from the Visual Rays … others [quantities] are equidistant to some visual rays.

60. Quantities Collinear to the Visual Rays Since quantities collinear to the rays do not form a triangle and do not utilize a series of rays, they do not attain, therefore, any extension with the cut.

61. The Theorem of Distance But in the quantities equidistant from the visual rays, the more obtuse is the angle to the base of the triangle, the more that quantity will receive fewer rays, and therefore it will obtain less space with the cut.

62. Figure 7 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 52); see note 89 to Book One

63. The Scale of Representation To all these [notions] one must finally add that famous philosophers’ thesis according to which they affirm that if the sky, the stars, the seas, the mountains, the creatures themselves, and then all the objects were to be made, the gods willing, smaller than half-size of what they are, everything seen would appear to us in no way diminished compared to what it is now.

64. Man Is the Model and the Measure of All Things But since the human figure, of all [objects], is the best known to man, perhaps Protagoras, in saying that man is the model and the measure of all things, meant precisely this: that the incidentals of all [objects] are correctly measured and are known by man’s [own] incidentals.

65. An Open Window 65a. First I trace as large a quadrangle as I wish, with right angles, on the surface to be painted; in this place, it [the rectangular quadrangle] certainly functions for me as an open window through which the historia is observed,

65b. and there I determine how big I want men in the painting to be,

65c. and I divide the height of this very man into three parts that for me are certainly proportional to the measure that people call braccio.That [measure] of the three braccia,in fact, as it results from the symmetry of the limbs of a man, is precisely the height of a normal human body.

65d. According to this measure, then, I divide the base line of the drawn [rectangular] quadrangle into as many parts of this kind as [the line] contains.

66. The Centric Point: 1 Moreover, for me this very same base line of the [rectangular] quadrangle is certainly proportional to the nearest transverse and equidistant quantity seen on the pavement. After these [steps], I place only one point inside the [rectangular] quadrangle. In that place let there be the [point of] sight; for me, that point, as it occupies the place itself toward which the centric ray strikes, let it, therefore, be called the centric point. The appropriate position of this centric point is not to be higher from the base line than the height of that man to be painted.

67. The Centric Point: 2 Having placed the centric point, I draw straight lines from the centric point itself to the single subdivisions of the base line; which lines certainly show me how the transverse quantities narrow down to sight, if I wish to advance by interval, up to an almost infinite distance.

68a. At this point, there would be some who would trace in the [rectangular] quadrangle a line equidistant from the subdivided one, and would subdivide the space between the two lines into three parts.

68b. They would add, then, to this second equidistant line also another equidistant one, conforming to this principle: that the space subdivided into three parts, which is found between the first subdivided line and the second equidistant line, exceeds by one of its parts the space that is between the second and the third line;

68c. then, they would successively add the remaining lines in such a way that the succeeding space between the lines would always be subsesquialter [i.e, contained one and a half times],speaking in mathematical terms, in respect to the one that comes before.

68. A Wrong Way of Painting: 1 69. A Wrong Way of Painting: 2 69a. … they do not know, however, where the preestablished place of the apex [of the pyramid] is found for correct viewing.

69b. … the process of such [individuals] would be greatly invalidated if the centric point were to be found either above or below the height of the depicted man.

69c. … the painted objects cannot be seen as conforming to the real ones, unless they are distant according to a very precise relationship.

70. The Miracles of Painting Of this occurrence, we shall give an account if we should ever write on these demonstrations that we have performed, which friends, in marveling, have given the name miracles of painting.

71. An Excellent Method: 1 71a. I have a small surface on which I trace one straight line alone, which I divide into those parts according to which the base line of the [rectangular] quadrangle has been divided.

71b. Hence, I place a single point above, in respect to this line, as far up as the centric point in the [rectangular] quadrangle is distant from the subdivided base line, and from this point I trace the single lines to the single subdivisions of this exact line.

71c. I then establish how much I want the distance between the observer’s eye and the painting to be; and, having fixed there the position of the cut, I obtain, by means of a perpendicular line, as mathematicians say, the cut of all lines that this [perpendicular] will have met. 71d. This perpendicular line, then, will give me, through its subdivisions, the limits of every distance that must occur among the transverse equidistant lines of the pavement; on this condition, I have it that all parallels of the pavement are represented.

72. An Excellent Method: 2 A picture plane in real size 72a. An indication of how these [parallels] have been drawn in a correct way will appear when one single and same extended straight line becomes the diagonal of the connected quadrangles in the depicted pavement.

72b. I trace one single transverse line parallel to the remaining ones below, which intersects the two vertical sides of the large squaring [of the window] and passes through the centric point.

73. The Mirror and the Painting 73a. … the inventor of painting was, according to the opinion of poets, that [famous] Narcissus who was transformed into a flower. As the painting is in fact the flower of all the arts, thus the whole tale of Narcissus perfectly adapts to the topic itself.

73b. To paint, in fact, is what else if not to catch with art that surface of the spring?

74. The Veil … a veil woven of very thin threads and loosely intertwined, dyed with any color, subdivided with thicker threads according to parallel partitions, in as many squares as you like, and held stretched by a frame.

75. The Veil and the Drawing of Profiles of Small Surfaces 75a. And so, the veil will guarantee this not negligible advantage which I have spoken of: that the object always stays the same with respect to the view.

Facsimile drawing of The Trinity (reticulated nets) by Masaccio, Santa Maria Novella (c. 1425).

75b. A further advantage consists of the fact that in a panel to be painted, the positions of the edges and the limits of the surfaces can easily be established in very precise locations. In fact, when you observed over here in a parallel the forehead, in the very next the nose, in the near one the cheeks, in the lower the chin, and all things of that kind, situated in their own places, in the same way there, you will have placed in the best manner all the things on a panel or on a wall, also subdivided by corresponding parallels.

76. The Calculation of Parallels Through Sight

And if one wishes to practice talent without the veil, let them obtain this very calculation of parallels through sight, so that one always imagines a horizontal line cut by a second perpendicular, where they establish in the painting the observed limit.

77. Spherical Concave and Convex Surfaces When we observe on plane surfaces, in fact, that they are recognizable through their own light and shadows, thus also in spherical and concave surfaces we perceive that the same are reduced by squaring, so to speak,in multiple surfaces because of different shapes of shadows and light.

78. The Drawing of Profiles of Very Great Surfaces: 1 The surfaces of buildings and of colossal [objects] 78a. On the pavement, therefore, represented by parallels, one needs to construct the wings of the walls and whatever surfaces of this kind that we have called surfaces that lean upon [a side].

78b. … of any body squared with right angles, one cannot see, with a single glance, in relation to the ground, more than two joined surfaces that lean upon [a side].

79. The Drawing of Profiles of Very Great Surfaces: 2 The surfaces of buildings and of colossal [objects] Hence, then, I also reach the height of the surfaces not in a very difficult way. That whole quantity, in fact, which is the measurement between the centric line and that place of the pavement, whence the mass of an edifice rises, will maintain the same dimension. That is why, if one wants that such quantity, starting from the ground to the top, be four times the height of the depicted man, and the centric line will have been placed at the height of the man, certainly then three will be the braccia of the quantity, from the low extremity up to the centric line. You who really wish to increase that quantity up to twelve braccia will go upward three times the quantity that there is from the centric line to the lower extremity of the quantity.

80. The Circular Surfaces 80a. The circular surfaces are certainly extracted from the angular [ones].

80b. … it would be an extreme labor to subdivide in minute and almost infinite parallels a whole circle by means of many marks.

81. The Circle … as soon as I will have noted eight or how many intersections one will want, by painting then with diligence, I myself trace the path of the circle in conformity to the indicated limits themselves.

82. Figure 14 in Grayson, 1991 (p. 70); see note 39 to Book Two

83. The Profile According to the Shadow of a Lamp Perhaps the route would be shorter by tracing this profile according to the shadow of a lamp, provided [that] the body that generates shadow receives the light in accordance to a certain calculation and is inserted in the proper place.

84. The Faces From the composition of surfaces arises that exquisite harmony and grace in bodies, which they call beauty. In fact, that face, which would have some large surfaces, others small, there prominent, here excessively recessed from within and hollow, as we see in the faces of little old women, will be ugly to look at. But in the face in which the surfaces will be joined so that pleasing lights flow down into gentle shadows and so that not any roughness of angles appears, rightly we will call this face beautiful and graceful.

85. The Bones, the Nerves, the Muscles With regard to the size, therefore, one must observe a certain ratio; which in calculation it is certainly useful, in painting living beings, to screen out at first, by skill, the bones. These, in fact, because they bend very little, always occupy some determined position. It is necessary, then, that the nerves and muscles adhere to appropriate places. And [it is necessary] then, in the end, to treat with flesh and with skin, the bones and the muscles, reclothed.

86. The Height of a Man

The architect Vitruvius measures the height of a man by means of the feet. But I maintain it [to be] more useful if the remaining [members] are referred to the size of the head, although I have observed this: that it is almost common among men that between the chin and the top of the head there exists the same measurement of a foot.

87. One Praises a Historia One praises, among Romans, a historia,in which dead Meleager is carried and those who are close at hand seem to be afflicted and work with all members. Without doubt, in him who is dead there is not any member that appears alive: namely, that all [the members] hang down, the hands, the fingers, the neck; all descend down languidly.

88. One Blames a Historia One needs, moreover, to blame no less the fact that frequently I see painted men in an edifice, as confined almost in a case, in which they are enclosed hardly seated and obliged to stoop.

89. The Historia: Hands, Fingers, Feet, Arms, Flexions, Actions

Then, let some [figures] be standing, visible in whole face, with hands upward and vibrant fingers, supported on one of two feet. Let others have an opposing face; and let the arms be visible hanging down and feet not connected, and to everyone their own flexions and actions.

90. The Historia: Nude, Partly Nude, Partly Veiled And let some be nude, if thus it is convenient; let certain ones arrange themselves partly nude, partly veiled, according to a mixed technique [conforming] to each of the two [ways]. But let us always serve modesty and decency. And certainly let the indecent parts of a body and all those that are less graceful be covered by a cloth, or by fronds, or by a hand.

91. The Historia: From That Side of the Face Apelles painted the portrait of Antigonus only from that side of the face where the missing eye did not appear.

92. The Historia: That Covered Head They report that Pericles had had a long and deformed head and that, therefore, he was usually represented by painters and sculptors not with an uncovered head as others, but hidden with a helmet.

93. The Historia: The Activity of the Mind

Then, a historia will stimulate the observers’ hearts when men who were idle will display, to the highest degree, their own activity of the mind.

94. The Historia: Someone Who Informs the Spectators It seems opportune then that in the historia there is someone who informs the spectators of the things that unfold; or invites with the hand to show; or threatens with severe face and turbid eyes not to approach there, as if he wishes that a similar story remains secret; or indicates a danger or another [attribute] over there to observe; or invites you with his own gestures to laugh together or cry in company.

95. Seven Movements Everything that changes position has seven directions of movement, for example: either upward, or down, or right, or left, or retiring from there

into the distance, or turning back toward us. The seventh way of moving, instead, is the one which turns itself around.

96. Body Movements in Accordance to a Certain Harmony: The Head, the Eyes But I have observed that the movements of the head, at times with difficulty in some directions, are such that [the head] does not always have some parts of the remaining body positioned under itself, through which [parts] the considerable weight [of the head] is sustained, or that [the head] certainly compels, on the opposite side, as a second supporting staff, some member that compensates [for] the weight. We, in fact, observe the same thing while someone sustains with outstretched hand a certain weight after having fixed one of two feet as an axis of balance, so that the entire other part of the body disposes itself from the opposite side to counterbalance the weight. I have also understood that the head of one who is standing does not turn further up than where the eyes perceive the middle of the sky.

97. Body Movements in Accordance to a Certain Harmony: The Elbow, the Knee, the Foot In these [movements] I have indeed pointed out this from Nature: that the hands almost never rise above the head, nor the elbow above the forearm; that the foot does not rise in height above the knee, neither that the foot is distant from the other much more than is the space of a single foot.

98. Body Movements in Accordance to a Certain Harmony: A Hand Upward, the Heel I then examined that if we stretch a hand upward as much as we can, all the remaining parts of that side [of the body] adapt to that movement right to the feet, so that also the heel of the same foot, owing to the movement of the same arm, rises from the ground.

99. Movements of Inanimate Things: Air and Horses’ Manes I desire, indeed, that [the depiction of] hair be treated according to all those seven movements which I spoke of. Let [the hair], in fact, swirl attempting to make a knot; or better still, let it wave in the air while it imitates flames, and let it coil on some heads; let it rise sometimes in this or that direction.

100. Movements of Inanimate Things: The Bends and Curves of Branches And in the same manner, let bends and curves of branches be partly arched upward, partly be receding, and partly coiling as ropes.

101. Movements of Inanimate Things: The Folds of Fabrics And let one apply this very thing in the folds of fabrics in a way that, as from the trunk of a tree the branches spread in all directions, so from a fold the [other] folds spring according to their own ramifications. And in these, let all the same movements develop also in such a way that there is not any extension of fabric in which there are not almost all the same movements.

102. Movements of Inanimate Things: Clothes, Dresses, and Wind Now then, when we wish that clothes adapt to the movements and, generally, when dresses, heavy by their own nature and all falling without interruption toward the ground, do not present folds at all, for this [reason] one will rightly place in a corner of the historia the face of a Zephyr or of an Auster that blows among the clouds, from where all the clothes that are opposite are struck. From this, one will present that loveliness: that the flanks of bodies which the wind hits appear almost nude under the covering of fabric, since the clothes stick to the body because of the wind.

103. Surfaces, Lights, and Colors: Plane Surface and Opposite Surface One needs, then, to observe how the shadows always correspond to light on the opposite side, in order that [when] in any body a surface is illuminated by light you can discover in this same [body] opposing surfaces covered by shadows.

104. Surfaces, Lights, and Colors: Spherical Surface Let it be consented, at this point, to report some things that we have taken from Nature. I have observed, without doubt, that flat surfaces maintain color in a uniform way in every part of their own [surface], whereas spherical and concave surfaces change colors; in fact, here it is clearer, there it is darker, while on another side one observes a sort of intermediate color.

105. Creativity: That Famous Description of Calumny While one reads, one praises that famous description of Calumny that Lucian says [has been] depicted by Apelles. Without doubt, I think it is not at all alien to the purpose to tell it, in order that painters remember that they must dedicate themselves to realize creations of this kind.

106. Creativity: The Three Graces And what [to say] of those three younger sisters to whom Hesiod gave the names of Aglaia, Euphrosine, and Thalia, who were depicted smiling with hands intertwined among themselves, [and] adorned with loose and transparent clothes? Pompei (I c. B.C.), The Three Graces

107. Differences in the Members: The Nose … from here on, let them learn by heart with precision the shapes of all members, and all the differences that can be found in the members. In fact, those [differences] are surely neither few nor insignificant. There will be those whose nose is hooked.

108. Differences in the Members: The Legs The scholar of painting, therefore, will take all these things from Nature herself, and he will meditate incessantly by himself on what condition each thing arises; and in this research he will persist continually with the eyes and with the mind. He will observe, in fact, the lap of a person who is sitting and the legs while they bend, inclining gently. Facsimile drawing of legs by Leonardo, manuscripts on painting.

109. Schemes And we will illustrate at one time the whole historia,at another the single parts of the same, preparing schemes on paper; and we will consult all friends on this matter. Later, we will strive so that for us, all objects are predisposed in such a way that in a work there is nothing of which we do not know in what place it must be located in an excellent way.

110. The Prize for My Toils These [are the notions] which I thought to report in the present commentaries on painting. If these are such as to offer an advantage and some usefulness to painters, I expect, above all, this prize for my toils: that they paint my face in their historiae,in such a way to proclaim, to posterity, that they are mindful of a benefit and grateful, or rather, that I have been a scholar of art.

Selected Bibliography Ackerman, S. J. Distance Points: Essays in Theory and Renaissance Art and Architecture. Cambridge, MA: Mit Press, London, 1991. Ackerman, S. J. Punti di distanza: Saggi sull’architettura e l’arte d’Occidente. Milan: Electa, 2001. Altrocchi, R. “The Calumny of Apelles in the Literature of the Quattrocento.” PMLA 36 (1921): 454–491. Arrighi, G. “Leon Battista Alberti e le scienze esatte.” In Convegno Internazionale indetto nel V centenario di Leon Battista Alberti. Rome: Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, 1974, pp. 155–212. Bartoli, C., trans. Della Pittura, in Opuscoli morali di L. B. Alberti. Venice, 1568. Bätschmann, O., and Schäublin, C., eds. Leon Battista Alberti, das Standbild, die Malkunst, Grundlagen der Malerei. Herausgegeben eingeleitet und kommentiert von Oskar Bätschmann und Christoph Schäublin unter Mitarbeit von Kristine Patz. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2000. Baxandall M., Giotto and the Orators: Humanist Observers of Painting in Italy and the Discovery of Pictorial Composition, 1350– 1450. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971. Baxandall M. Painting and Experience in Fifteenth-Century Italy. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1972. Bertolini, L, “Sulla precedenza della redazione volgare del ‘De Pictura’ di Leon Battista Alberti.” In Studi per Umberto Carpi: Un saluto da allievi e colleghi pisani, edited by Marco Santagata and Alfredo Stussi. Pisa: ETS, 2000, pp. 181–210. Bertolini, L “Come pubblicava l’Alberti: Ipotesi preliminari.” In Dialettologia, storia della lingua, filologia. Per Alfredo Stussi nel suo sessantacinquesimo compleanno. Florence: Edizioni del Galluzzo, 2004. Besomi, O. “Un nuovo testimone del ‘De Pictura’ di Leon Battista Alberti.” Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance 53, no. 2 (1991): 429–436. Bonucci, A. Opera Volgari. Florence: Tipografia Galileiana, 1847. Bosse, A. Manière universelle de M. Desargues pour pratiquer la perspective. Paris, 1648.

Bosse, A. Les Pratiques par figures des choses dites cy devant ansy quelles ont esté desseigneés et expliqueés dans l’Academie Royale. Paris, 1665. Bosse, A. Leçons données dans l’Academie Royale de la peinture et sculpture par A. Bosse: Le peintre converty. Paris, 1667. Brizio, A. M. “Review of Mallè’s Text.” In Giornale Storico della letteratura italiana. Torino: Loescher, 1952. Clagett, M. Archimedes in the Middle Ages. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1978. Damisch, H. L’origine de la perspective.Paris: Flammarion, 1987. Damisch, H. “Histoires perspectives, histoire projective.” In L’Art estil une connaissance? Paris: Le Monde Editions, 1993. Della Francesca, P. See Nicco Fasola. Del Monte, G. Perspectivae Libri Sex. Pisauri, 1600. De Murr, C. Memorabilia Bibliothecarum Publicarum Norimbergensium. Norimbergae, 1786. Diogenes, L. Vite dei Filosofi, edited by M. Gigante . Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1998. Doesschate, G. Ten. Perspective, Fundamentals, Controversials, History. Nieuwkoop: B. de Graaf, 1964. Domenichi, L., trans. La Pittura di Leon Battista Alberti tradotta per M. Lodovico Domenichi. Con gratia et privilegio. In Vinegia Appresso Gabriel Giolito de Ferrari, 1547. Dürer, A. Underweysung der messung, mit dem zirckel und richtscheyt in Linien ebnen unnd gantzen corporen, durch Albrecht Dürer zu samen getzogen und zu nutz aller kunsliebhabenden mit zu gehörigen figuren in truck gebracht im ja. Nürnberg, 1525. Latin edition, Institutionum Geometricarum Libri Quatuor, edited by Joachim Camerarius. Lutetia Parisiorum, 1532. Edgerton, S. Y., Jr. “Alberti’s Colour Theory: A Medieval Bottle without Renaissance Wine.” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 32 (1969): 109–134. Edgerton, S. Y., Jr. The Renaissance Rediscovery of Linear Perspective. New York: Harper & Row, Icon Editions, 1976. Elkins, J. The Poetics of Perspective. Ithaca-London: Cornell University Press, 1994.

Euclid. Euclidis Megarensis, Elementorum geometricorum libri XV. His adiecta sunt Phaenomena, Catoptrica et Optica. Basle, 1546. Euclid. Euclidis Opera omnia, edited by J. L. Heiberg and H. Menge . Leipzig, 1896. Euclid. Gli Elementi, edited by A. Frajese and L. Moccioni . Turin: Utet, 1970. Federici Vescovini, G. Studi sulla prospettiva medievale. Vol. 16, fasc.1. Turin: Università di Torino, Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia, 1965. Ferri, S. Storia delle arti antiche. Rome, 1946. Filarete, Antonio Averlino. Trattato di architettura, edited by Anna Maria Finoli and Liliana Grassi. Milan: Il Polifilo, 1972. Forcellini. Totius Latinitatis Lexicon opera et studio Aegidii Forcellini. Prato: Tipografia del Seminario, 1858–1860. Garin, E. L’educazione in Europa, 1400–1600. Bari: Laterza, 1957, 1976. Gioseffi, D. Perspectiva artificialis: Per la storia della prospettivaspigolature ed appunti. Trieste: Università olegli Studi di Trieste, 1957. Gombrich, E. H. The Heritage of Apelles. Oxford: Phaidon, 1976. Gorni, G. “Leon Battista Alberti, Opere volgari vol. III, a curadi Cecil Grayson.” Studi Medievali, series 3, vol. 14 (1973): 443. Grafton, A. Leon Battista Alberti: Master Builder of the Italian Renaissance. London: Penguin Press, Allen Lane, 2001. Italian edition, Leon Battista Alberti, Un genio universale. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 2003. Grayson, C. “A Portrait of Leon Battista Alberti.” Burlington Magazine 96 (1954): 177–178. Grayson, C. “L. B. Alberti’s ‘costruzione legittima.’” Italian Studies 19 (1964): 14–27. Grayson, C. “The Text of Alberti’s De Pictura.” Italian Studies 23 (1968): 71–92. Grayson, C. ed. and trans. Leon Battista Alberti: On Painting and On Sculpture. The Latin Texts of De Pictura and De Statua. Edited with Translations, Introduction and Notes by C. Grayson . London: Phaidon, 1972.

Grayson, C. ed. L. B. Alberti De Pictura. In Opere Volgari, vol. III. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1973. Grayson, C. Alberti De Pictura. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1975, 1980. Grayson, C. trans. On Painting: Leon Battista Alberti. Translated by Cecil Grayson with an Introduction and Notes by Martin Kemp. London: Penguin Classics, 1991. Grayson, C. “Studi su Leon Battista Alberti.” Rinascimento, a. 4, 1 (1953). Reprinted, Ingenium 31, 10 (1998): n. 1. Guidubaldi, E. Dal “De Luce” di R. Grosseteste all’Islamico “Libro della Scala.” Florence: Olschki, 1978. Ivins, W. M., Jr. Art and Geometry: A Study in Space Intuitions. New York: Dover Publications, 1964. Janitschek, H. Leon Battista Alberti’s Kleinere Kunsttheoretische Schriften … mit einer Einleitung und Excursen versehen von Dr. H. Janitschek. Wien: Braumüller, 1877. Janson, W., and D. J. Janson. Storia della Pittura. Milan: Garzanti, 1958. Kircheri, Athanasii, S. I. Ars Magna Lucis et umbrae. Romae, … ex typographia Ludovici Grignani, 1646. Krautheimer Richard, and Trude Krautheimer-Hess. Lorenzo Ghiberti. 2 vols. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1956. Krüger, P. Dürers Apokalypse: Zur poetischen Struktur einer Bilderzählung der Renaissance. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1996. Lee, R. W. “Ut pictura poesis: The Humanistic Theory of Painting.” The Art Bulletin 22 (1940): 197–269. Mallè, L., ed. Leon Battista Alberti Della Pittura. Florence: Sansoni, 1950. Maltese, C. “Colore, luce e movimento nello spazio Albertiano,” Commentari 27 (1976): n. 3–4, pp. 238–247. Mancini, G. Vita di Leon Battista Alberti. Rome: Bardi, 1967. Reprint of the 1882 edition. Massing, J. M. Du texte à l’image: La Colomnie d’Apelle et son iconographie. Strasbourg: Presses Universitaires de Strasbourg, 1990. Mazzatinti, G. Inventario dei Manoscritti Italiani delle Biblioteche di Francia; Vol. I, part I, I Manoscritti italiani della Biblioteca

Nazionale di Parigi. Rome: Presso i Principali Librai, 1886. Mazzatinti, G. Gli scrittori d’Italia cioè Notizie storiche, e critiche intorno alle Vite, e agli scritti dei letterati italiani. Brescia: Presso a Giambattista Bossini colla Permissione de’ superiori, 1753. McMahon, A. P. Leonardo da Vinci: Treatise on Painting. Translated and annotated. 2 vols., Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1956. Michel, P. H. “Le traité de la Peinture de Léon-Baptiste Alberti: version Latine et version vulgaire.” In Revue des Études Italiennes, publiée avec le concours du CNRS, Société d’Études Italiennes, Nouvelle Série, Tomo VIII. Paris, 1961, pp. 71–92. Nicco Fasola, G., ed. Della Francesca Piero, De Prospectiva Pingendi. Florence: Sansoni, 1942. Offenbacher, É. “La bibliothèque de Willibald Pirckheimer.” La Bibliofilia, vol. 40, no. 7 (1938): 241–263. Panofsky, E. Studies in Iconology. New York: Oxford University Press, 1939. Panofsky, E. The Life and Art of Albrecht Dürer, Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1943, 1955. Italian edition, La vita e le opere di Albrecht Dürer. Milan: Feltrinelli, 1967. Panofsky, E. The Codex Huygens and Leonardo da Vinci’s Art Theory: The Pierpont Morgan Library Codex M. A. 1139, Kraus Reprint, Nendeln-Liechtenstein, 1976. Pedretti, C. “La ‘Graticola.’” In Centri storici di grandi agglomerati urbani, edited by C. Maltese. Bologna: CLUEB, 1982, pp. 67–75. Pélerin Viator, J. De Artificiali prospectiva. Toul, 1505. Petz, H. “Urkundliche Nachrichten über den literaischen Nachlafs Regiomontans und B. Walters, 1478–1522.” In Mitteilungen des Vereins für Geschichte der Stadt Nürnberg. Nürnberg: Siebentes Heft, 1888. Picchio Simonelli, M. “On Alberti’s Treatises of Art and Their Chronological Relationship.” Yearbook of Italian Studies 1 (1971): 75–102. Pino, P. Dialogo di Pittura di Messer Paolo Pino nuovamente dato in luce. Con privilegio. In Vinegia per Pauolo Gherardo, 1548. Pozzetti, P. Leo Baptista Alberti a Pompilio Pozzetti Cler. Reg. Schol. Priar. Publico Eloquentiae Professore in solemni studiorum

instauratione Laudatus. Accedit commentarius italicus, quo Vita eiusdem et scripta compluribus ad huc ineditis monumentis illustrantur Florentiae M DCCLXXXIX; excudebat Jacobus Gratiolius Praesidum Facultate. Florence, 1789. Regiomontanus. Oratio Iohannis De Monteregio, Habita Patavij in praelectione Alfragani. Hac oratione compendiose delectantur scientiae Mathematicae, et utilitates earum, 1537. Regiomontanus Joannis Regiomontani Opera Collectanea. Osnabrück: Zeller Verlag, 1972. Richter, J. P., ed. The Notebooks of Leonardo da Vinci. Compiled and Edited from the Original Manuscripts. New York: Dover Edition, 1970. Ronchi, V. Storia della luce. Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1983. Rupprich, H. “Die kunsttheoretischen Schriften L. B. Albertis und ihre Nachwirkung bei Dürer.” Sonderdruck aus Schweizer Beiträge zur Allgemeinen Geschichte, Band 18/19. Berlin: Deutscher Verein für Kunstwissenschaft, 1960/61, pp. 219–239. Rupprich, H. Albrecth Dürers schriftlicher Nachlaß, 3 vols. Hrsg. von Hans Rupprich. Berlin: Deutscher Verein für Kunstwissenschaft, 1956, 1966 e 1969). Rupprich, H. “Dürer und Pirckheimer: Geschichte einer Freundschaft.” In Dürers Umwelt. Nuremberg, 1971, pp. 78–100. Sabra, A. I. The Optics of Ibn Al-Haytham. Books I–III, On Direct Vision. Translated with Introduction and Commentary. London: Warburg Institute, 1989. Schefer, J. L. Alberti, De la Peinture, De Pictura. Introduction par Sylvie Deswarte-Rosa. La litterature Artistique. Paris: Macula Dédale, 1992. Serlio, S. “Libro Secondo di Prospettiva.” In Trattatto di Architettura. Paris, 1545. Sinisgalli, R. Per la storia della prospettiva (1405–1605): Il contributo di Simon Stevin allo sviluppo scientifico della prospettiva artificiale. Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider, 1978. Sinisgalli, R. I sei libri della prospettiva di Guidobaldo dei Marchesi Del Monte dal latino tradotti interpretati e commentati. Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider, 1984.

Sinisgalli, R. La prospettiva di Federico Commandino. Florence: Cadmo, 1993. Sinisgalli, R. “La sezione aurea nell’Uomo Vitruviano di Leonardo.” In I Disegni di Leonardo da Vinci e della sua Cerchia nel Gabinetto dei Disegni e Stampe delle Gallerie dell’Accademia di Venezia ordinati e presentati da Carlo Pedretti. Florence: Giunti, 2003, pp. 178–181. Sinisgalli, R. “Quantitatum … aliae radiis aliquibus visivis aequidistantes nel ‘De Pictura’: Principi ed applicazioni.” Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi “Leon Battista Alberti Teorico delle Arti,” Mantua, October 23–25, 2003. Sinisgalli, R. “Esegesi linguistica per la questione del Demon pictor nel De Pictura.” Atti del Congresso “Leon Battista Alberti: Umanista e Scrittore. Filologia, Esegesi, Tradizione,” Arezzo, June 24–26, 2004. Sinisgalli, R. “Il ruolo delle proposizioni euclidee nel ‘De Pictura.’” Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi “Alberti e la tradizione,” Arezzo, September 23–25, 2004. Sinisgalli, R. “L’Uomo Vitruviano, da Alberti a Leonardo: Misura ed armonia.” Atti del Convegno Internazionale “Gli Este e l’Alberti – Tempo e Misura,” Istituto di Studi Rinascimentali, Ferrara, November 29–December 3, 2004. Sinisgalli, R. Verso una storia organica della Prospettiva. Rome: Kappa, 2001. Reprint, 2004. Sinisgalli, R. Il nuovo De Pictura di Leon Battista Alberti: The New De Pictura of Leon Battista Alberti. Rome: Kappa, 2006. Sinisgalli, R. The Vitruvian Man of Leonardo. Certaldo (Florence): Federighi, 2006. Sinisgalli, R. Leonardo and the Divine Proportion. Certaldo (Florence): Federighi, 2007. Sinisgalli, R., and S. Vastola. Il planisfero di Tolomeo. Florence: Cadmo, 1992. Sinisgalli, R., and S. Vastola. L’analemma di Claudio Tolomeo. Florence: Cadmo, 1992. Sinisgalli, R., and S. Vastola. La rappresentazione degli orologi solari di Federico Commandino. Florence: Cadmo, 1994.

Sinisgalli, R., and S. Vastola. La teoria sui planisferi universali di Guidobaldo Del Monte. Florence: Cadmo, 1994. Sinisgalli, R., and S. Vastola. Il planisfero di Giordano Nemorario. Florence: Cadmo, 2000. Sinisgalli, R., and S. Vastola. Le sezioni coniche di Maurolico. Florence: Cadmo, 2000. Spencer, J. R. On Painting, by L. B. Alberti. Translated with Introduction and Notes. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1956. Rev. New Haven, CT, and London: Yale University Press, 1966. Strauss, W. L., ed. and trans. The Painter’s Manual: A Manual of Measurement of Lines, Areas, and Solids by Means of Compass and Ruler Assembled by Albrecht Dürer for the Use of All Lovers of Art with Appropriate Illustrations Arranged to Be Printed in the Year MDXXV, by Albrecht Dùrer. Translated and with a Commentary by Walter L. Strauss. New York: Abaris Books, 1977. Trichet du Fresne, R. Vita di Leon Battista Alberti. Paris: Langlois G., 1651. Trismegistus. “Hermetis Trismegisti De Natura Deorum, ad Asclepium adlocuta, Apuleio Maudarensi Platon. Interprete.” In Apulei Madaurensis Platonici Opera Omnia quae exstant. Geverhartus Elmenhorstius ex Mstis Vett. Codd. recensuit, Librumque Emendationum et Iudices absolutissimos adiecit. Francofurti. In officina Wecheliana, apud Danielem et Davidem Aubrios, et Clementem Schleichium, Anno MDCXXI. Vagnetti, L. De naturali et artificiali perspectiva. Florence: Libreria Editrice Fiorentina, 1979. Valenciennes, P. H. Éléments de perspective pratique. Paris, 1800. Vasari, G. Le vite de’ più eccellenti architetti, pittori, et scultori italiani da Cimabue insino a’ tempi nostri. Florence, 1550. Reprint, Rome: New Compton, 1991. Veltman, K. H., with Kenneth D. Keele. Studies on Leonardo da Vinci. I. Linear Perspective and the Visual Dimensions of Science and Art. München: Deutscher Kunstverlag, 1986. Wittkower, R. “Brunelleschi and Proportion in Perspective.” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 16 (1953): pp. 257–291.

Wittkower, R. Idea and Image: Studies in the Italian Renaissance. London: Thames & Hudson, 1978. Italian edition, Idea e immagine: Studi sul Rinascimento italiano. Torino: Einaudi, 1992. Yates, F. A. Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition. London, 1964; Italian edition, Rome-Bari: Laterza, 1985. Zoubov, V. P. “Léon-Battista Alberti et Léonard de Vinci.” Raccolta Vinciana 18 (1960):1–14.

INDEX OF NAMES (Albertian Text) Achaemenides 58 Achilles 62 Aeneas 38, 58 Agesilaus 44 Aglaia 76 Aglaophon 68 Alexander 44, 62, 66 Alexander (painter) 82 Alexander Severus 47 Antaeus 36 Antigonus 46, 61 Apelles 46, 50, 61, 62, 76, 83, 84 Aristides 47, 62 Asclepiodorus 81 Asclepius 47 Aurelius 82 Auster 67 Bucephalas 66 Calamis 80 Calchas 63 Cassandrus 44 Castor 59 Cleanthes 46 Cleopatra 71 Colotes 63 Crotoneans 78 Demetrius (king) 47 Demetrius (painter) 78 Demetrius Phalereus 47 Demetrius (philosopher) 46 Diana 72

Dido 72 Dionysius 82 Egyptians 46 Elis 45 Ennius 47 Etruscans 47 Euphranor 46, 62, 71, 82 Euphrosine 76 Euryalus 38 Evander 35 Fabius 47 Galen 79 Ganymede 38, 58 Gellius 36 Germans 38 Giotto 63 Greece 46 Greeks 48, 78 Helen 58, 62 Heraclides 82 Hercules 36, 47 Hesiod 76 Homer 61, 66, 77 Inachus 66 Iphigenia 58, 63 Italy 46, 47 Jupiter 45, 59, 77 Laertius 46 Lucian 76 Lucifer 32 Lucina 79

Manilius 47 Marcellus 46 Mars 59 Martia 48 Meleager 57 Menelaus 63 Metrodorus 47 Milo 58 Minerva 59 Narcissus 46 Nero 47 Nestor 58 Nicias 68, 81 Pacuvius 47 Pamphilus 75 Paris Alexander 62 Parrhasius 50 Paulus Emilius 48 Pericles 61 Perseus 46 Phaethon 79 Phanostratus 47 Phidias 45, 77, 82 Philocles 46 Plato 47 Pliny 46 Plutarch 44, 61 Pollux 59 Polygnotus 68 Polyphemus 38 Pompeius 82 Praxiteles 45 Protagoras 38 Protogenes 47, 50, 83 Pyrrho 47

Pyrrhus 48 Quintilian 46 Rhodes 47 Romans 57 Rome 47, 63 Serapion 82 Sicily 46 Sitedius 47 Socrates 47, 50 Spaniards 38 Thalia 76 Timanthes 39, 63, 68 Trismegistus 47 Turpilius 47 Ulysses 57, 61, 63 Valentinian 47 Varro 48, 60 Venus 59 Verona 47 Virgil 38, 58, 72 Vitruvius 57, 71 Vulcan 59 Xenocrates 46 Xenophon 50 Zenodorus 80 Zephyr 67 Zeuxis 45, 66, 68, 71, 78, 82