Principles of Palladio's architecture I

Source: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, Vol. 7, (1944), pp. 102-122 Published by: The Warburg Institute Stable URL: http://www .jstor.org/stable/750384 Accessed: 17/07/2008 03:41 A Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at 4 http://www .jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless 5 2 you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you A 9 1 may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. f £ D Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at 37 http://www jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=warburg. Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission. JSTOR is a not-for-profit organization founded in 1995 to build trusted digital archives for scholarship. We work with the scholarly community to preserve their work and the materials they rely upon, and to build a common research platform that promotes the discovery and use of these resources. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. http://www jstor.org

Source: Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, Vol. 7, (1944), pp. 102-122 Published by: The Warburg Institute Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/750384 Accessed: 17/07/2008 03:41 Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at http://www.jstor.org/page/info/about/policies/terms.jsp. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use. Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at http://www.jstor.org/action/showPublisher?publisherCode=warburg. Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed page of such transmission. JSTOR is a not-for-profit organization founded in 1995 to build trusted digital archives for scholarship. We work with the scholarly community to preserve their work and the materials they rely upon, and to build a common research platform that promotes the discovery and use of these resources. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. http://www.jstor.org

The Architect as ‘‘uomo universale’’ : Palladio, Trissino and Barbaro [: 1547 appeared Giangiorgio Trissino’s L’Italia liberata dai Goti. It was the first of the great heroic epics of the 16th century, dogmatically based on ancient precepts. The author himself proudly repeats more than once that he had chosen Aristotle as his “maestro”. and Homer “per duce, e per idea.” This epic had a topical interest. It tells of the expulsion of the Goths from Italy by Belisarius, Justinian’s commander, a feat of arms which safeguarded the survival of classical traditions in Italy, and made Italy part of the eastern empire from which Greek civilization had sprung. But by the time the epic was written the infidels were masters of that ancient empire; the book was therefore fittingly dedicated to the emperor Charles V, the new Justinian, who would now come from the West and liberate the East. In the course of more than 20 years, during which, as the author asserts, he skimmed through all the Latin and Greek writers, a work was completed which not only combined history with mythology and theology, but also threw much light on astronomy, medicine, alchemy, necromancy, mathematics, and, last but not least, on naval, military and civic architecture. The epic summarizes Trissino’s life-work and ambitions. He was an all-round humanist with an encyclopedic knowledge, and immensely productive. He tried to revive the great Greek epic, and he introduced Greek tragedy in Italy with his Sofonisba (1514/5); his comedy J Simillimi (1548) followed Plautus, and his Canzoni imitated Pindar; he wrote Eclogues and poems in Latin and translated Horace. Linguistic problems, so much cherished by humanists of the period, attracted him particularly. He published an Ars poetica and books on grammar, and he is above all remembered for attempting to hellenize Italian spelling and pronunciation, and to create artificially a common Italian language. This was in opposition to the general humanist trend which with Bembo, Speroni, Varchi and so many others led to the acceptance of the Volgare (the Tuscan language) as the language of scholarship and learning, a movement which was crowned by the work of the Accademia della Crusca. Trissino’s brand of humanism was aristocratic and in a way anachronistic; he advocated a formal, esoteric and dogmatic classicism, free from any popular tendencies. In the fifth book of L’Italia liberata is the description of a palace, which gives a good impression of the working of his mind. After an exact description of the precincts and the entrance to the palace follows an account of the courtyard: A cloister runs around the little courtyard Its spacious arches resting on round pillars Whose height is equal to the pavement’s width, Their thickness is their height by eight divided. Each column has a silver capital Whose height repeats the measure of its thickness, Whereas the shaft stands on a metal base Which is again exactly half as high. This account of the academically constructed courtyard is a poetic paraphrase of Vitruvius; and Vitruvius was an author in whom Trissino had, as we shall see, more than a general interest. Inside the palace, by name Acrazio, are all sorts of disagreeable surprises for the conquering army, and to avoid disaster God himself sent Belisarius’ guardian angel to earth as guide and helpmate. It is he who gives the preparatory description of the place, and his name is Palladio. When the young sculptor Andrea di Pietro da Padova came into Trissino’s orbit he gave him, after the fashion of humanist circles, the classical name “Palladio,’’ whose association with the image of Pallas indicated what he expected from the young artist. A chronological scrutiny makes it Articles and books on Palladio which appeared on the Continent between 1939 and 1945 were not available. After the article had been set up in proofs, I obtained a copy of Antonio M. Dalla Pozza, Palladio, Vicenza, 1943, and 102 references to the results of this book have been incorporated into the notes. 1 Cf. G. Toffanin, Il Cinquecento, “Storia letteraria d'Italia,” Milan, 1929, p. 448

evident that the name was first chosen for the angel of the epic, who is so well versed in architecture, and this made the conferring of the name on the architect doubly allusive.! Andrea di Pietro was born in 1508.2. At the age of 16, in April 1524, he was inscribed at Vicenza in the guild of the bricklayers and stone-masons.? For the next ten years he figures in documents as engaged on sculptural work, and in a document of 1542 he is still called “lapicida.’”* But some time before that, probably in 1536 or 1537, the event took place which had a far-reaching effect on European architecture. Trissino, at that time engaged on the building of his villa Cricoli near Vicenza, discovered the gifts of the young man who worked there as a mason. Trissino was not only responsible for Palladio’s change of profession, but also had a formative influence on his conception of architecture. ® The Villa Cricoli has usually been attributed to Palladio, but there is strong evidence that Trissino himself was its designer.$ Some of his architectural drawings have survived and one is inscribed: “Alcune piante della casa di Cricoli.”’? His keen interest in architectural problems is further documented by the survival of an undated manuscript fragment which, though very short, shows the trend of his thought. He has undertaken, he declares, the task of writing a treatise on architecture because he noticed how much enlightenment it needs “‘for after having read Vitruvius attentively . . . I find that those things which at his time were very familiar are now entirely unknown ... and that this Vitruvius is very badly understood and that he teaches nobody sufficiently in that art; therefore, while he endeavours to show that he knew things extremely well, he teaches very few of them. Leon Battista Alberti wanted to follow in his footsteps . . . but apart from the length of his treatise, it appears to me that one misses in it many things while one finds many which are superfluous.’’8 Trissino built his Villa Cricoli in order to realize his dream of creating a learned academy, the “Accademia Trissiniana’’ as it was later called, in suburban solitude. The rooms were decorated with Greek and Latin inscriptions and over three doors was written: “Genio et studiis,” “Otio et musis’’ and ‘Virtuti et quieti.”” Study, Arts and Virtue—these key-words embrace the programme of the Academy. Students livedin Cricoli and their work was regulated from day-break to night-fall. Trissino seems to have wished to blend the ideals of monastic life with the traditions of the Greek schools of philosophers. Strict moral conduct as well as physical cleanliness were peremptory demands. The study of Latin and Greek, guiding the student to an accomplished Italian style, was the medium through which he hoped to infuse civic virtues into the young generation. Trissino had been an active participant in the meetings of the Ort Oricellari where these idea were discussed at length among the leading Florentine humanists.? Hereis the thread that links Trissino’s enterprise to the old Platonic Academyin Florence. Andin this truly encyclopedic tradition the subjects 1 Work on L’Italia liberata was begun in 1526, in 1539 approximately half the poem was finished; cf. Bernardo Morsomaintain the old attribution to Palladio. But other authors before them were doubtful, e.g. O. Bertotti Scamozzi, Les lin, Giangiorgio Trissino, Vicenza, 1878, p. 348. Palladio appears first with his humanist name in documents of 25th February and roth March, 1540. In all the documents Bätimens et les desseins de André Palladio, 1786 (and ed.), II, p. 32f. and Burger, Die Villen des Andrea Palladio, 1909, p. 31. — before that date he is called “‘Andrea”’ or ‘‘Andrea di Pietro.” Cf. Zorzi in Archivio Veneto-Tridentino, 1922, p. 136. 2 The old puzzle of Palladio’s birth (1508 or 1518) was conclusive; it mentions “la maggior parte del disegno (scil. Cricoli) di Vostra Signoria” (“la maggior parte,’ because finally settled by documentary evidence in favour of 1508, cf. Zorzi, op. cit., p. 120 ff. For the controversy about his place of birth—Padua or Vicenza—see Dalla Pozza, op. cit., PP. 9-43. 3 F. Lampertico, Scritti stor. e lett, 1882, I, pp. 336, 366 f. 4 Zorzi, loc. cit., and also G. Fiocco, Andrea Palladio Padovano, 1933, P- 5 ff. From 1545 on Palladio is regularly named “architetto.” 5 A document of gth February, 1538 (cf. Zorzi, op. cit, PP- 137, 143) is the first proof of familiarity between the two men. 6 Cricoli was built between 1530 and 1538. Cf. Rumor in Archivio Veneto-Tridentino, 1926, p. 202 ff. In spite of the evidence to the contrary Rumoras well as Fiocco, op. cit, p. 10, Girolamo Gualdi’s letter to Trissino of May 2oth, 1538, seems older parts were left standing); cf. Morsolin, op. cit., p. 230. Dalla Pozza (op. cit., pp. 48, 50 ff.), using similar arguments to ours, excludes Palladio’s participation in the planning of Cricoli. 7 In the Brera at Milan. The inscription, by Trissino himself, confirms the relation of these plans to Cricoli. These drawings were discussed, but not published, by Morsolin,_ p. 225 f. The one published by Dalla Pozza, op. cit., p. 51, shows that Trissino began his planning with a reconstruction of Vitruvius’ Roman house. 8 Cf. Nozze Peserico-Bertolini, Dell’ Architettura, Frammento di Giangiorgio Trissino, Vicenza, 1878. 9 The importance of rhetoric as an incentive to political virtues in this circle was discussed by Cantimori in this Journal, 1, 1937-8, p. 83 ff.

of study included philosophy, astronomy, geography and, above all, music. In the late 1530’s and *40’s all the young noblemen of Vicenza went through the Trissinian Academy, and though Palladio was no longer a young man he seems to have taken part in the life at Cricoli.1 About the intimate ties between Palladio and Trissino there cannot be any doubt. In the preface to the Quattro libri dell’ architettura Palladio singles him out as the ‘‘splendore de’ tempi nostri,” and in the preface to his edition of Caesar he relates that it was the “‘dottissimo”’ Trissino who taught him the secrets of ancient military science.? Giuseppe Gualdo, Palladio’s contemporary, wrote in his reliable life of the architect, that “when Trissino noticed that Palladio was a very spirited young man with much inclination for mathematics, he decided in order to cultivate his genius to explain Vitruvius to him, and to take him to Rome three times...” In view of Trissino’s Vitruvian record the truth of Gualdo’s statement seems incontestable. We know, moreover, that Trissino in the autumn of 1545 travelled to Rome with three of his young friends, one being the painter and poet Giambattista Maganza, the second the poet Marco Thiene and the third Palladio. Their stay lasted almost two years and they set out on their return journey in July 1547.4 While Trissino thus introduced Palladio to Vitruvius and to the monuments of antiquity, he demonstrated himself in Cricoli how all this knowledge should be applied in practice. Of the existing house, built after the traditional ‘‘castello” type, he vreserved the towers and linked them by a portico of Raphaelesque quality ;5 and in the ground-plan he applied those principles of symmetry and proportionate relationship of the rooms which Palladio fully developed (Pl. 25a, c). The classical studies which he began under Trissino remained Palladio’s life-long preoccupation, and his art cannot be separated from the humanist training in this circle. It always remained scientific, scholarly and to a certain degree dogmatic, and complex associations must be taken into account in order to understand his buildings.® His literary efforts were a fruit of this training. By nature Palladio seems to have been reserved and not willing to use many words where the facts speak for themselves, as is often the case with 1 Morsolin, op. cit., p. 232 ff. gives a detailed account of the Academy, with further literature. Cf. also Lampertico, op. cit, p. 154 ff. Teachers of the Academy were men of high reputation like Bernardino Donato and Bernardino Partenio. Paolo Manuzio’s letter of May 2oth, 1555, to Partenio about his election as teacher of the Academy gives an idea of the importance attached to that institution. Manuzio writes: ‘ . . con noi mi rallegro, e con quella magnifica città dell’honorato pensiero intorno all’academia: della quale usciranno, come dal cavallo Troiano, in poco tempo eccellentissimi giovani, ch’empieranno non pur Vicenza, loro patria, ma Italia tutta della gloria del nome loro. . .” (Atanagi, Lettere di XIII Huomini illustri, Venice 1560, p. 280). 3“io n’hebbi i principij dal Sig. Gio. Giorgio Trissino gentil’huono dottissimo, e che alle molte discipline, di che egli era sicuro possessore, haveva anco aggiunta la perfetta cognitione di questa . . .” 8 Published in Giovanni Montenari, Del Teatro Olimpico, 1749, as being written by the son Paolo (1553-1621). The latter, however, seems to have made only additions to his father’s notes; cf. Calvi, Biblioteca, e storia degli scrittori di Vicenza, 1778, IV, p. 155 ff. Gualdo’s often attacked rethe portico on the Loggia Cornaro in the garden of the Palazzo Giustiniani at Vicenza, built by Falconetto in 1524 (see Fiocco in Dedalo XI, 1930-1, p. 1217). This observation is only partly right; there are important differences between the two buildings: Ionic pilasters below, Corinthian pilasters above in Cricoli instead of Doric half-columns below and Tonic pilasters above; three large bays and one half bay at each end in Cricoli instead of five large bays; uniform entablature in both tiers instead of break in the entabláture above the orders. In all these particulars Cricoli corresponds to Serlio’s illustration of Raphael’s loggia of the Villa Madama (bk. III, p. 148 f.). But Serlio’s third book did not appear until 1540, at a time, when Cricoli was finished. Trissino had access either to Serlio’s material before it was published (Serlio was in Venice from 1528 onwards) or brought a similar drawing back from Rome: The close relationship between Cricoli and Serlio had been noticed by H. von Geymiiller, Raffaello studiato come architetto, 1884, p. 87; cf. also Dalla Pozza, op. cit, p. 53 ff. The relationship of the humanist and philosopher Luigi Cornaro to his architect Falconetto (about his studies of liability has been vindicated by the more recently discovered ancient architecture in Rome cf. Vasari, ed. Milanesi, V, Pp. 319) anticipates that of Trissino to Palladio. On Cornaro documents. CF. also Dalla Pozza’s chapter: “Il valore storico cf. J. Burckhardt, Die Kultur der Renaissance, roth ed., II, della biografia del Gualdo” (op. cit., pp. 36-39). 4 Cf. Morsolin, op. cit, p. 321 ff. with documents. It seems improbable that Palladio accompanied Trissino to Rome on a previous journey. Later, Trissino returned to Rome only p.56 ff. 6 The arguments for and against Trissino’s influence on Palladio’s early career have both found their advocates. Dalla Pozza, Palladio’s most recent biographer, stresses unduly once and then alone, in the year of his death, 1550. On Marco Thiene, who is still remembered for his poem fonte non esclusiva ma essenziale della cultura del Palladio; on Venice, cf. Morsolin in Atti R. Istituto Veneto, series VII, vol. VI, 1894-5, pp. 839-874. 5 Fiocco, op. cit., p. 10, emphasized the dependence of Serlio’s influence (pp. 65-87). The thesis that Serlio was “la dominante e determinante, nel processo formativo della sua conscienza artistica” seems to us wrong and many of his proofs for it appear unconvincing.

creative artists.1 Yet his contribution to the humanities was probably greater than that of any other architect of his period, and by no means confined to architecture. The first fruits of his journeys to Rome were two small guide-books, of greater importance than their size might indicate. Both appeared in Rome in 1554.2 One, Le antichita di Roma, consists of short descriptions of the classical ruins and their history, arranged in groups, for the information of travellers. The book replaced the mediaeval Mirabilia Urbis Romae which, as Palladio puts it, are “full of strange lies.” Classical material was now presented in accordance with the new standards of Renaissance research. “Knowing,” Palladio says, “how great everybody’s wish is to understand truly these antiquities” he undertook to measure the ruins and to collect reliable information about them. His scholarship is impressive; he not only used the works of the modern Roman antiquarians, Biondo, Fulvio, Fauno and Marliani, but also classical authors, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Livy, Pliny, Plutarch, Appianus Alessandrinus, Valerius Maximus and Eutropius. Palladio’s little work went into more than thirty editions right up to the middle of the 18th century, and helped to form the conception of ancient Rome which travellers carried home for 200 years. His second book, the Descritione de le Chiese, Stationi, Indulgenze & Reliquie de Corpi Sancti, che sonno in la Citta di Roma, also grew out of the old Mirabilia, which, apart from the antiquities, contained a description of Roman churches under a purely religious aspect for the use of pilgrims. Though clearly deriving from this traditional pattern, Palladio re-arranged the itinerary and for the first time introduced artistic appreciations, and his work was the nucleus from which most Roman guide-books until the 18th century developed. Towards the end of his career, in 1575, Palladio published Caesar’s Commentaries with 41 illustrations.4 It throws a light on his absorption in ancient writers that he studied Caesar together with his sons Leonida and Orazio, who prepared the illustrations. After their premature death he had the book published in their memory. In the preface he relates that for very many years he had studied ancient military science and “read all the ancient authors and historians who had treated of it” The preface contains an abstract of what he had found in them. He also applied his knowledge of ancient historians when illustrating Polybius, but this work, which was dedicated to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, is lost.5 All these works were modest by-products in comparison with Palladio’s ambitious Quattro libri dell’ architettura, published in 1570, in which he set out to survey the whole field of architecture. The first book deals with the orders and elementary problems, the second with domestic buildings, the third with public buildings and town-planning, and the fourth with the temples “without which no civilization is possible.”® In the dedication of the first two books to Conte Giacomo Angaranno, Palladio gives us a glimpse of the impulses which animated his undertaking. The remains of antiquity were his constant measure of permanent values. He regarded the ancient “enormous ruins as a shining and sublime testimony of Roman excellence (virtd) and grandeur,” and professed to have been deeply stirred by studying that “quality of virtue” and having concentrated all his thoughts on these studies.” In the preface to the third book he returns to the idea that “the vestiges of so many of their sumptuous buildings” give us “a certain knowledge of Roman virtue and greatness, which perhaps had not otherwise been believed.’’8 The practice of good architecture is for him a moral faculty, and architecture is one emanation of that unity of the sciences and arts which together 1 Cf. the proemio to the Quattro libri: “Et in tutti questi libri io fuggirò la lunghezza delle parole, & semplicemente dard quelle avvertenze, che mi parranno più necessarie.”’ See also preface to the third book. In the preface to his Antichità he declared that he had written “con quanta più brevità ho potuto.” 2 According to Gualdo, Palladio was in that year in Rome. 3 For the Antichitd and the Descritione cf. Ludwig Schudt, intorno la vita e le opere di Andrea Palladio, Padua, 1845, appendix, p. 16. Palladio’s illustrations existed in print (cf. ibid., p- LI), but so far not a single copy has turned up. 6 Preface to the third book. 7“rendono anco nelle grandissime ruine loro chiaro, & illustre testimonio della virtù, & della grandezza Romana: in modo che ritrovandomi io grandemente esercitato, & infiammato ne gli ottimi studij di questa qualità di Virtù, Le Guide di Roma, 1930, pp. 26 ff., 126 ff. with complete & havendo con gran speranza messo in lei tutti i miei penbibliography of the editions. 4 I Commentarij di C. Giulio Cesare, con le figure in rame de gli allogiamenti, de fatti d’arme, delle circonvallationi delle città... Venezia, Pietro de’Franceschi, 1575. 5 The dedication of 1569 published by Magrini, Memorie sieri. .. ”’ 8 English translations from the Quattro libri are quoted, sometimes with small alterations, from Isaac Ware’s edition

constitute the ideal of virtus—a central doctrine of life and thought in the Trissinian Academy. But it is probable that architecture as a manifestation of virtue implies for Palladio something more specific, and this will be shown at a later point of this study. Palladio’s plans of publication were interrupted by his death. In the preface to the first book he gave a summary of the whole scheme which was to comprise theatres, amphitheatres, arches, thermae, aqueducts, fortifications and ports. In his text he referred more than once to his forthcoming “‘libri dell’Antichità”1 or his “libro degli Archi”? and, according to Gualdo, a volume containing “Tempi Antichi, Archi, Sepolture, Terme, Ponti, Specole e altri pubblici edificii dell’antichita Romana” was left to Giacomo Contarini, Palladio’s friend and patron, ready for publication. Of all this material only the Roman therme were published, by Lord Burlington, 150 years after Palladio’s death. Palladio emphasized that in preparing his book he had studied the works of predecessors who had written on architecture,* and on more than one occasion he stresses the importance of Alberti, and, indeed, Alberti’s influence on him was very great.5 But above all the modern books he places Vitruvius whom he has chosen ‘‘per maestro, e guida.”’6 He was probably more familiar with Vitruvius than any other contemporary architect, and in keeping with Trissino’s own views he believed that Vitruvius revealed the deepest secrets of ancient architecture. His imaginative and penetrating interpretation of Vitruvius is apparent in the illustrations to Barbaro’s edition of 1556. Concerning Palladio’s collaboration in this work we may let Barbaro himself speak: “For the designs of the important illustrations I used the works of Messer Andrea Palladio, architect of Vicenza, who, amongst those whom I have known personally or by hearsay, according to the judgment of excellent men has grasped the true architecture, not only understanding its beautiful and subtle reasons, but also practising it, be it in the most delicate and exquisite designs of plans, elevations and. sections, or in the execution and erection of many and superb buildings in his own country as well as elsewhere; these vie with the ancients, enlighten contemporaries, and will arouse the admiration of those who come after us. And with regard to Vitruvius, the building of Theatres, Temples, Basilicas, and those things which have the most beautiful and most hidden reasons for their proportions (compartimenti), have all been explained and interpreted by him (Palladio), with readiness of mind and hand; he being the one who has chosen the most beautiful styles of the ancients in the whole of Italy and has measured all the works that exist.”7 1 Bk. I, p. 15. 2 Ibid. and I, p. 47 and passim. See also his dedication to 3 Palladio’s book had been long in preparation and seems session of Giacomo Contarini, reached the Museo Civico in Vicenza through the hands of Scamozzi, Francesco Albanese, Muttoni (cf. Architettura di A. Palladio . . . con le osservazioni dell’Architetto N.N. [Muttoni],1740, I, pp. vii, xii), Temanza, to have been ready for the press in a different form before 1555. Cf. A. F. Doni, La seconda libreria, Venice, 1555, p. 155, Dal Peder and Pinali; cf. Magrini, op. cit., pp. 43, 295 ff., Giangiorgio Zorzi in La Provincia di Vicenza, May 17, 1910, who has a remarkable passage about the work which at that no. 133. period had not yet.a title “ma da quello che in esso si può imparare, si puote chiamare: Norma di vera Architettura.” and one is in the Museo Civico at Verona. Four reconstructhe third book. Daniele Barbaro in his Commentary to Vitruvius, 1556, P. 179, says that “presto venirà in luce un libro delle case private, composto e dissegnato dal Palladio.” About the changes of Palladio’s plans for the publication cf. also Tommaso Temanza, Vita di Andrea Palladio, Venice, 1762, p. xlii ff., Cicogna, Iscr. Ven., IV, p. 408 f., Magrini, op. cit., p. 105 ff. and Dalla Pozza, op. cit., p. 109 ff. The great majority of unpublished drawings by Palladio are now in the R. Inst. of British Architects from the collection of Lord Burlington. About 60 of these drawings were purchased by the latter in the Villa Maser, built by Palladio for his friend Daniele Barbaro (cf. Burlington in the preface to his Fabbriche Antiche disegnate da Andrea Palladio, 1730). Others had been acquired by Burlington from the collection of Inigo A few drawings are in the Pinacoteca at Brescia tions of classical buildings, as far as we can see never before mentioned, are in the Vatican Library, cod. Vat. lat. 9838. Other series of drawings seem to be lost, e.g. 12 drawings which were in the ıgth century in the possession of Giuseppe Vallardi, Milan, cf. Magrini, p. 305 ff.—In addition, see for the drawings for S. Petronio in Bologna G. Zucchini, Disegni ... per la facciata di S. Petronio, 1933, pls. XVI, XIX-XXI. 4 In the dedication to the first book : “tho rivolto con faticoso studio di molti anni i libri di coloro, che . . . hanno arricchito . . . questa scientia noblissima.” 5 Cf. Part II in the next number of this Journal. 6 Preface to the first book. 7 I dieci libri dell’ Architettura di M. Vitruvio tradutti et commentati da Monsignor Barbaro, Vinezia, Francesco Marcolino, 1556, Bk. I, chap. 6, p. 40. Barbaro pays tribute in other Jones who got possession of them in Italy (1614-5), probably through Scamozzi (cf. W. Grant Keith in Journal R.I.B.A., places to Palladio’s help, particularly for the reconstruction XXXIII, 1925, p. 95 f.). A smaller series of drawings, and the Roman theatre (V, viii, p. 167). Palladio, in the possibly a portion of those mentioned by Gualdo as in the pos- Quattro libri, refers his readers several times to the illustrations of the Ionic volute (III, iii, p. 95, cf. Magrini, op. cit., p. 30 f.)

Daniele Barbaro belonged to Palladio’s generation (b. 1513) and, like Trissino, he embodied the Renaissance ideal of an all-inclusive education based on classical scholarship. He was an eminent mathematician, poet, philosopher, theologian, historian and diplomatist, he founded the botanic garden at Padua and tried his hand at interior decoration. Being himself one of the most outstanding personalities of the mid-16th century, ties of close friendship existed between him and men like Aretino, Bembo, Varchi and Speroni. His report to the Venetian Senate on his legation to England, 1548-50, is a model of clarity and precision, and has gained celebrity as the first really comprehensive account of English life and customs by an Italian for Italians. His publications ranged over a wide field; amongst them is a dialogue on eloquence (1557) and a treatise on perspective (1568) in which he used Dürer extensively.? But, like Trissino, he was above all an Aristotelian scholar.? He published, with a learned commentary, the Latin translation by his great-uncle Ermolao Barbaro of Aristotle’s Rhetoric (1544) and edited Ermolao’s translations of the Nicomachean Ethics (1544) and his compendium of the Aristotelian works on natural history (1545) ; all this was preceded bya treatise on Porphyry’s Jsagoge, which consists of a discussion of Aristotle’s categories and was traditionally published as a preface to his Organon (1542). Daniele Barbaro died in 1570 as Patriarch of Aquileia and left in his will to Palladio, “nostro amorevole architetto,” a token sum of 15 ducats. Palladio had built for him and his brother Marcantonio the famous villa Maser near Asolo which, decorated with Veronese’s frescoes and Vittoria’s statues, is one of the most perfect Renaissance creations in Northern Italy. Barbaro’s commentaries on Vitruvius are most extensive and he often uses a line of the text as starting point for long and learned expositions on a particular problem. His method reveals immediately his Aristotelian training, it is purely logical and deductive, leading from definition to definition; while his thought is often thoroughly Platonic. He begins with a preface in which he gives a philosophical definition of the arts and of architecture. First the place of the arts in a general system of human pursuits is defined, based on Aristotle’s five intellectual virtues—arts, science, prudence, wisdom and intellect.5 We need not follow Barbaro’s procedure in detail and can restrict ourselves to the trend of thought which has an immediate bearing on our subject. Science and Intellect are concerned with “certain truth” (“il vero necessario”), i.e. the truth in the objects. themselves, which is found by unassailable proof. But Science is acquired, while Intellect is innate and reflects the power and virtue of the soul. The Arts are concerned with “uncertain truth” (“il vero contingente”), i.e. the truth dependent on human will-power which is manifest in human creations. However, there is a link between the spheres of “certain” and “uncertain’’. truths. Mathematics has its life from the intellect, and those arts which are founded on numbers, geometry and the other mathematical disciplines, have greatness and in this lies the dignity of architecture.® After having thus explained the relation of the arts to other intellectual provinces, Barbaro carries on with a definition of the arts in detail. With the clean-cut sentence ‘‘nasce ogni arte da isperienza” he repeats exactly Aristotle’s maxim that “experience created art”? He also follows Aristotle in his dictum that experience relies on the senses and is concerned with single instances, while the arts rest on universal principles, though these must be discovered by experience. The arts are therefore near to Wisdom, which is the virtue correlated to science and intellect as being concerned with a clear knowledge of the proofs of “certain truth.” The thread of these ideas is carried on in the Vitruvian text and here the Aristotelian system is given a Platonic bias. Where Vitruvius talks about the capacities an architect ought to possess (I, i, 3), Barbaro comments: “The artist works first in the intellect and conceives in the mind and _ symbolizes then the exterior matter after the interior image, particularly in architecture” Archiin Barbaro’s Vitruvius (cf. bk. III, chap 19 and bk. IV, chap. 3). The style of the illustrations in both books is very Arch. stor. Ital., 1844, p. 949 ff. similar and some of them are almost identical. 1 Cf. Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, V, 1534-54, p. 338 ff. 2 A life of Daniele Barbaro has not been written. Most 1620, II, p. 615, Barbaro used to say “nisi Christianus esset, comprehensive Giovanni Poleni, Exercitationes Vitruvianae Primae, 1739, pp. 73-82. There are some notes in Ch. Yriate, La vie d’un patricien de Venise au XVIe siècle (n.y.), pp. 109 ff., 355. Barbaro’s history of Venice for the years 1512-1515 in 3 According to De Thou, Historiarum sui temporis, Geneva, se in Aristotelis verba juraturum fuisse.” 4 Cf. Burger, op. cit, p. 104 fl. “5 Nic. Ethics, V, 3-8. 6 Plato, Philebos, 34. 7 Metaphysics, 981a.

tecture, in other words, is nearer to the Platonic idea than any other art. He carries on: “Therefore architecture above any other art signifies, i.e. represents, le cose alla virtl,”” by which he means that the form comes near to the idea. In agreement with this he defines in another place (I, i, 1): “la virtù consiste nell’applicazione.” Many passages show that Barbaro saw architecture not as an isolated discipline but as one of the innumerable manifestations of the human mind which all follow the same laws. Characteristic of this, and again Aristotelian, is his comment to the second chapter where Vitruvius discusses the six categories—ordinatio, dispositio, eurythmia, symmetria, decor, distributio—of which architecture consists. Barbaro declares that we find these elements in many things, and it follows that “these terms are general and common and as such have their definition in the general and common science which is the first and is called metaphysics. But when an artist wants to apply one of those elements to his own profession, then he restricts that universality to the particular and special needs of his own art”! The fusion of Aristotle’s doctrine of experience—and it may also be said of his doctrine of imitation as the supreme principle in the arts as established in his Poetic,a doctrine which found such an intense echo in the North Italian circle from Trissino to Castelvetro—with Plato’s conception of ideas seems marked in Palladio’s architecture; and an attentive reader will find in his Quattro libri reflections of this synthesis. In any case there is no doubt that Palladio was intimately familiar with the content of these commentaries, and Barbaro’s statement is proof that.many of them were thrashed out in common consultation. Palladio’s work embodied for Barbaro his own ideal of scientific, mathematical architecture, and it may be supposed that Palladio himself thought in the categories which his patron had so skilfully expressed. It is conceivable that by associating in the Quattro libri virtue with architecture, Palladio had in mind its permanent values as defined by Barbaro. And this interpretation is also supported by the title-page of the Quattro libri showing allegories of Geometry and Architecture pointing upwards to the crowned figure of Virtue (“Regina Virtus”) with sceptre and book. It may be argued that from Alberti’s day onwards architecture was conceived in terms of applied mathematics; but hardly ever before Barbaro was this subject submitted to such closely knit logical analysis. Palladio’s Quattro libri, almost entirely concentrated on the practical side, are similarly marked by acuteness, precision, and clear and rational arrangement. And as Trissino with his application of Aristotle’s Poetic gave structure, unity and clarity to drama and epic, so Palladio aspired to unchallengeable lucidity of architectural planning based on the authority of classical rules. In 1555 the Accademia Olimpica was founded in Vicenza, with Palladio as one of its chief promoters. The programme was still that of the older Italian academies, the cultivation of the “uomo universale.” And so Palladio found himself again in a circle of men who believed in the same ideals as those which had inspired his early days in Trissino’s company. Theatrical performances soon became one of the notable activities of the Academy, beginning with a memorable representation of Trissino’s Sofonisba in 1562, in a theatre built for this purpose by Palladio inside the Sala of the Palazzo della Ragione.? Later on Palladio was commissioned to erect a permanent theatre. Barbaro had been for ten years in his grave when the foundation stone was laid on March 23, 1580. He, more than anyone else, would have been able to appreciate Palladio’s project. For to all intents and purposes it corresponded to the reconstruction of the Roman theatre which Barbaro, with Palladio’s help, had published in his Vitruvius. Palladio himself died six months after building had started. In 1584 the theatre was opened and, like a tribute to the manes of Trissino, who had introduced the taste for Greek tragedy, the first performance was Sophocles’ Oedipus Tyrannus. 2. Palladio’s Geometry: The Villas In a chapter on abuses in architecture Palladio summarizes as follows: “Although variety and things new may please every one, yet they ought not to be done contrary to the precepts of art, 1 These indications are not meant to give a summary of the complex logical structure of Barbaro’s commentary. Also no attempt can here be made to trace Barbaro’s sources, apart from Aristotle and Plato. Amongst others, he appears to have used the Aristotelian commentary of Caporali’s Vitruvius edition, Perugia, 1536. 2 Pierfilippo Castelli, La vita di Giovangiorgio Trissino, Venice, 1753, p. 26, believed that on that occasion the model for Palladio’s Teatro Olimpico was shown. See also Calvi, op. cit, IV, p. 275 ff.

c—Villa Cricoli, Plan ( pp. 104, 109) . : d—Peruzzi, Farnesina, Rome, 1509-11(p. 109) a—Giangiorgio Trissino, Villa Cricoli, 1530-38 ( p. 104) Vi alindio’s i Porto, Detail 1093 (p. Plan, libri of Quauro

and contrary to that which reason dictates; whence one sees, that although the ancients did vary, yet they never departed from some universal and necessary rules of art, as shall be seen in my books of antiquities.””! He makes this statement in a definite context, but it can be generalized, and we shall now try to find out what for Palladio were the universal precepts of architecture. In the planning of his villas and palaces he followed certain rules from which he never departed. He demanded a hall in the central axis and absolute symmetry of the lesser rooms at both sides. “And it is to be observed that those on the right correspond with those on the left, so that the building may be the same in one part as in the other”? Renaissance architects always regarded symmetry as a theoretical necessity in design. But in practice this theory was hardly ever applied. A comparison of a Palladian plan (Pl. 25e) with a typical Renaissance building such as the Farnesina in Rome (1509) (Pl. 25d) reveals immediately his complete break with the older tradition. It is the systematization of the ground-plan which became the distinguishing feature of Palladio’s palaces and villas.? In Cricoli Trissino anticipated Palladio’s plans; everything undertaken later by Palladio is a development of this archetype. The earliest building which can be ascribed with certainty to Palladio is the Villa Godi Porto at Lonedo (Pl. 25b, e) for which he received payments from 1540 onwards.4 In comparison with Cricoli this villa is retrogressive. The asymmetrical arrangement of windows in the fagade can be found in innumerable country-houses of the Venetian terra ferma,® and the break caused by the three-arched portico and the recessed centre are also traditional features.6 The ground-plan too is simplified in comparison with Cricoli (Pl. 25c), but with its four rooms of equal size at each side of the central axis the principle of symmetry is strictly kept.’ This surprisingly unpretentious plan contains all the elements of Palladio’s further development. The local and traditional character which is so marked in the front of the Villa Godi disappeared completely after Palladio’s stay in Rome. But the plans of the many country-houses which he built as the fashionable architect of Vicenza, from the end of the 1540’s onwards, are all different orchestrations of the same theme (see ill. p. 110). The pattern of these plans is founded on the straightforward needs of the Italian villa: loggias and a large hall in the central axis, two or three livingrooms or bedrooms of various sizes at the sides, and, between them and the hall, space for small spare rooms and the staircases. A few typical plans ranging over a period of about 15 years will prove that they are all different statements of the same geometrical formula. The Villa Thiene at Cicogna,8 built during the 1550’s shows the pattern most clearly. The rooms together with the porticos are defined by a rectangle divided by four longitudinal and two transverse lines. A variation of this type is the Villa Sarego at Miega, built probably during the 1560’s, only parts of which are preserved ;® here the portico also extends across the width of the staircases. About 1560 Palladio had designed a simpler version of this plan for the Villa Pojana.10 The Villa Badoer at Fratta, Polesine, c. 1566, follows the same pattern, but with one portico now placed outside the cube of the building. Villa Zeno at Cesalto,12 between 1558 and 1566, belongs to this class (reversed), but at each side of the hall two small rooms have been joined forming large rooms with their axes at right angles to the hall. We find this feature again in the Villa Cornaro at Piombino, 18 mentioned in 1566, where the staircases have been transferred to the wings; the hall, which is therefore nearly square, is now the same width as the porticos. By another variation of these elements the approxi1 Quattro libri, I, chap. 20, p. 48. Fasolo, of. cit., pls. 14, 15. 2 Ibid., I, chap. 21, p. 48. 3 The regular plans of Roman therme were convincing 7 In two of the rooms are small staircases which alter the shape of these rooms. But by not showing a dividing wall proofs for Palladio that symmetry was also an indispensable requirement in ancient domestic architecture. 4Payments to Palladio go on until 1552, cf. Bertotti Scamozzi, op. cit., II, p. 16, but the building seems to have been finished in the main in 1542 (date of the inscription on the fagade). See also Burger, of. cit., p. 16 ff. Palladio’s illusbetween the stairs and the rooms, Palladio indicated in his illustration that he wanted the ideal shape of the room to be tration (II, p. 63) shows a revised front. 5 It derives from the Venetian palace tradition. For 15th and 16th century houses with this feature, cf. Fasolo, Ville del Vicentino, pls. 24-27, 32. 6 Cf. for instance Villa Ricci, Ca’Brusa; late 15th century, ‘rea RM 8 Palladio II, p. 60. The building which was never finished has not survived, cf. Burger, op. cit., p. 37 ff. 9 Palladio II, p. 66, Burger, p. 93. 10 Palladio II,"p. 56, Burger, p. 98. 11 Palladio II, p. 46, Burger, p. 110 ff. 12 Palladio II, p. 47, Burger, p. 47 ff. 18 Palladio II, p. 51, Burger, p. 95 ff.

L ITU HI [HUE 110 Villa Thiene at Cicogna Villa Sarego at Miega Villa Pojana at Pojana Villa Badoer at Fratta, Polesine Villa Zeno at Cesalto Villa Cornaro at Piombino Villa Pisani at Montagnana Villa Emo at Fanzolo Villa Malcontenta == == Villa Pisani at Bagnolo Geometrical Pattern of Palladio’s Villas SCHEMATIZED PLANS OF TEN OF PALLADIO’S VILLAS

mately contemporary plan of Villa Pisani at Moritagnana emerges,! which, in reverse, can be found again in the Villa Emo at Fanzolo, c. 1567.” If the staircases of the Villa Cornaro are placed inside along the small rooms the hall acquires the cruciform shape of the Villa Malcontenta (1560),? a type which was varied in some other buildings, particularly in the Villa Pisani of 1567 at Bagnolo.4 What was in Palladio’s mind when he experimented over and over again with the same elements? Once he had found the basic geometric pattern for the problem ‘villa,’ he adapted it as clearly and as simply as possible to the special requirements of each commission. This geometrical keynote is, subconsciously rather than consciously, perceptible to everyone who visits Palladio’s villas and it is this that gives his buildings their convincing quality. Yet this grouping and re-grouping of the same pattern was not as simple an operation as it may appear. Palladio took the greatest care in employing harmonic ratios not only inside each single room, but also in the relation of the rooms to each other, and it is this demand for the right ratio which is at the centre of Palladio’s conception of architecture. But this point will be discussed in later sections of this essay. The facades of Palladio’s villas present us with a problem essentially similar to that of the plans. In contrast to France and England, most Italian monumental architecture is cubic and conceived in terms of a solid three-dimensional block. Italian architects always strove for an easily perceptible ratio between length, height and depth of a building, and all villas by Palladio have that block-like quality. The cube had to be given a fagade. He found his motive in the classical temple front, and invariably used it for his villas. The reasons for this were given by Palladio himself in a passage which shows how for him practical considerations and principles of a higher order went hand in hand. “I have made the frontispiece (i.e. the pediment of the portico) in thé main front of all the villas and also in some town-houses . . . because such frontispieces show the entrance of the house, and add very much to the grandeur and magnificence of the work, the front being thus made more eminent than the rest; besides, they are very commodious for placing the ensigns or arms of the owners, which are commonly put in the middle of the front. The ancients also made use of them in their buildings, as is seen in the remains of the temples, and other public edifices, which, as I have said in the preface to the first book, very probably took the invention and the reasons (for them) from private buildings, i.e. from the houses.”5 Fagades of ancient domestic buildings were unknown, but with the application of the temple front to the house Palladio believed that he had re-created them in form and spirit; his reconstruction of the front of the ancient house in Barbaro’s Vitruvius shows a large eight-column portico® (PL. 26d). His conclusion was founded on two fallacies, a theory of the development of society, and a theory of the genesis of architecture. He thought “that man formerly lived by himself; but afterwards, seeing he required assistance of other men, to obtain those things that might make him happy (if any happiness is to be found here below) naturally sought and loved the company of other men; whereupon of several houses, villages were formed, and then of many villages, cities, and in these public places and edifices were made.” Therefore, he concludes, private houses were the nuclei of public buildings; in other words, temples reflect the appearance of the ancient house.” The idea that the temple is a magnified house throws an interesting light on Palladio’s own crystalline conception of architecture. He cannot think in terms of evolution, but envisages ready-made units which may be extended or contracted. Palladio was the first architect consistently to graft the temple front on to the front of the country-house.® The enormous dissemination of this type in his wake has made us blind to its peculiarity. In fact, Palladio has given the temple front a new dignity and a new meaning which results from its unclassical co-ordination with the wall. The nearest approach to the classical 1 Palladio II, p. 50, Brunelli e Callegari, Ville del Brenta, 1931, p. 337 ff. 2 Palladio II, p. 53, Burger, p. 102 ff. 3 Palladio II, p. 48, Burger, p. 88 ff., Brunelli-Callegari, op. cit, p. 16 ff. 4 Palladio II, p. 45, Burger, p. 40 ff. 5 Palladio II, chap 16. 6 Bk. VI, chap 2. 7 Palladio I, preface. 8 See also the statement, obviously influenced by Alberti, in Bk. II, chap. 12: “la Città non sia altro che una certa casa grande, e per lo contrario la casa una citta picciola.” 9 Attempts in this direction had been made before him, cf. for instance Giuliano da Sangallo’s Poggio a Caiano.

portico with its broad and majestic staircase is to be found in the Villa Rotonda (PI. 26a) ; but even here the portico must be seen against the background of and in relation to the cube of the building. The portico of the Villa Malcontenta (Pl. 26b) is also free-standing; however, with the staircases at the sides, and windows and a door in the basement under it, the portico has been integrated into the architecture of the house. A further step in this direction is the placing of the temple front in the plane of the wall, as is the case in the Villa Emo (Pl. 26c). Finally, the whole façade may be transformed into a temple front as was done in the Villa Maser (Pl. 26e). The range of possibilities is very large and Palladio made full use of them, and these few examples demonstrate sufficiently that he constantly varied a solution the merits of which he considered conclusive. While in looking at these fagades one cannot escape the impression that an inexhaustible wealth of ideas lies behind them, it must yet be kept in mind that they are all generated from the same fundamental principle. 3. Palladio’s Approach to Antiquity: Palaces and Public Buildings In the preceding section Palladio’s buildings have been considered as variations on a basic geometric theme, different realizations, as it were, of the Platonic idea of the Villa. But it would be wrong to conclude that there was no development. This section will therefore be largely concerned with the variable factors in his art; and as his measure was always classical architecture the problem of Palladio’s development presents itself as an examination of his changing conceptions of the art of the ancients. Palladio’s first great success was the commission to support the mediaeval Palazzo della Ragione at Vicenza with a surrounding structure (PI. 27b).t His screen consists of an uninterrupted sequence, in two storeys, of the celebrated ‘‘Palladian” motive, which is, in fact, the monumental form of a conception common in Bramante’s circle which was popularized through Serlio’s fourth book on Architecture (1537) (Pl. 27a).2 When discussing the ancient basilicas in the Quattro libri Palladio inserted a chapter on “The Basilicas of our Time,” in which he argued that the name can rightly be used for buildings like the Palazzo del Comune in Brescia and the Palazzi della Ragione at Padua and Vicenza, in spite of the differences in custom and building methods between ancient and modern times. There is an important tertium comparationis between the old and the new basilicas, for both are the seats of the juridical courts.? And in this chapter, following the reconstruction of the ancient basilica after Vitruvius, appear two plates of his own building at Vicenza, accompanied by these words: “I do not doubt but that this building may be compared with the ancient edifices, and ranked among the most noble and most beautiful fabrics, that have been made since the ancient times, not only for its grandeur and its ornaments, but also for the materials... .”* He regarded his own building as an adaptation of the antique basilica type for modern usage. To achieve this Palladio adopted Bramante’s conception of classical grandeur. According to Temanza the façade of the Palazzo Porti-Colleoni had an inscription: “Joseph Porto MDLII.”5 Work on the building was therefore probably begun before or about 1550. The derivation of the façade from a group of palaces built in Rome by Bramante and Raphael is too obvious to need any comment (Pl. 27c, d).® These buildings are in a class of their own and represent a climax of the High Renaissance palace between 1515 and 1520. With their functional differentiation of rusticated ground-floor and smooth piano nobile, their majestic sequence of double halfcolumns, their use of few great forms, and their economy of detail, the organic separation of one member from another (e.g. balconies and bases of columns), the compact filling of the wall and the 1 Palladio received payment for four drawings on October 27th, 1545 (cf. Magrini, op. cit., p. 17) at a time when he had alréady left for Rome together with Trissino. Almost three years later, on September 6th, 1548, his model was practically accepted for execution (ibid., p. 20 ff, also for other documents on the progress of the work). Dalla Pozza, op. cit., PP. 95-142, has given the history of the building with new documents. 2On the Palladian motive, cf. this Journal, VI, 1943, p. 154 f. and England and the Mediterranean Tradition, 1945, p. 142 f. 3 Bk. III, preface, p. 1; chap. 16, p. 27; chap. 20, p. 37. 4 Bk. III, chap. 20, p. 37. 5 Op. cit., p. viii. 6 Palazzo Vidoni-Caffarelli, 1515, by Raphael and the socalled Casa di Raffaello (destroyed) built by Bramante for Count Caprina, finished by Raphael in c. 1517. See also Palazzo Bresciano (1515) in the Borgo (Venturi, XI,1, p.237), Peruzzi’s Palazzo Ossoli (ibid., fig. 343) and others.

b—Palladio, Villa Malcontenta, 1560 (p. 112) d—Palladio’s Reconstruction of the Ancient House. From Barbaro’s Vitruvius (p. 111) c—Palladio, Villa Emo at Fanzolo, c. 1567 (p. 112) e— Palladio, Villa Maser Asolo, 1560’ (p. 112) near

b—System of Palladio’s “Basilica.” From Quaitro libri (p. 112) d---Palladio, Palazzo Porto-Colleoni, 1552. Elevation of Front left) and Courtyard (right), Drawing, R.1.B.A. ( pp.112f., 114) a—Palace from Serlio, Bk. IV, 1537 (p. 112) e—Palladio, Preparatory Design Drawing, R.I.B.A. ( p. 113) ing by Lafreri (p. 112f.) for the Palazzo Porto-Colleoni. c—-Bramante and Raphael, “House of Raphael,” Rome, before 1517. Engrav-

energetic projection of mass—with all this in a unique combination these buildings had a magnetic attraction for architects with a classical bias. They expressed something of the serene and grave quality of ancient Roman buildings, and it was this palazzo type which, fused with Venetian elements first by Sanmicheli (Palazzo Pompei, Verona) and then by Palladio, was constantly imitated and varied all over Europe. Palladio kept more strictly to his models than Sanmicheli, but by introducing figures against the sky-line, figures and festoons as decorations for the windows, and masks as keystones in the basement, he gave his building a richer and more genial appearance; all these additions are characteristic of Venice and the Terra ferma, and Palladio could find most of them in Sansovino’s Libreria. He also transformed the weighty and serious double order of Doric columns into a single Ionic sequence,! and gave the heavy Roman rustication a light and decorative quality.? The keen interest which Palladio took in the Roman palaces can still be demonstrated from drawings which have survived. There is not only a sketch after the Casa di Raffaello by him in the BurlingtonDevonshire collection, but also three elevations which are early designs for the Palazzo Porto, and form in various ways transitions between the Roman type and the final design (Pl. 27e).3 Like the plans of the villas, the plan of the Palazzo Porto is without precedent in the 16th century (Pl. 28a). It consists of two identical blocks on each side of a courtyard, only one of which, incidentally, was built. In this arrangement Palladio was following, so he says, the Greek style of private house in which the family apartments were separated from those of the guests. Each block is divided by a central axis into two symmetrical groups of rooms, and in each block the central feature is a large hall with four columns. This is the “‘tetrastyle,” which plays an important part, in a central and dominating position, in Palladio’s reconstruction of the Roman house. The tetrastyle as the leit-motif of the ground-plan is one of the permanent characteristics of Palladio’s palaces. In book II, chapter 8, he gives a large-scale reconstruction of the tetrastyle under the heading: “Of the Halls with four columns”; and his text says: “The following design is of the halls, which were called Tetrastili, because they had four columns. They were made square; and the columns were put to make the breadth proportionable to the height, and to make the place above secure; which I have done myself in many buildings.” The ancient atrium had an open roof; as this could hardly be built by a modern architect, Palladio turned the tetrastyle hall into an atrium. But he had good reasons for this, for amongst the five types of atria mentioned by Vitruvius is that supported by four columns, i.e. a tetrastyle.5 The preference given to this atrium by Palladio was not only due to its structural solidity, but above all to its square shape which he regarded as a perfect form. The formal quality of Palladio’s plan appears perhaps most significantly in the arrangement of the staircase, which was uncomfortably placed under the portico on one side of the courtyard ; Palladio explains that he did this in order to compel anyone wanting to go upstairs to admire the finest part of the building first. It is, in fact, the courtyard—the ancient peristyle—which was regarded as the most important part of the house. Barbaro, in his commentary, following 1 Palladio never used in the first floor a Doric order which he associated dogmatically with the ground-floor. 2 This is by no means the whole list of differences.—We have given the description after Palladio’s plate (II, p. 7). In the building figures and festoons only occur in the centre and the end bays; and instead of the crowning figures, there are two standing in front of the mezzanine right and left of the central bay. Palladio’s drawing for the engraving (BurlingtonDevonshire Coll., R.I.B.A. vol. XVII, no. 3) is nearer to the building but does not exactly correspondto it. 3 Vol. XIV, 11: Casa di Raffaello. Ill. Venturi, Storia dell’ Arte XI, 1, fig. 189 (left half only of the drawing). Vol. projects have 7 bays. In addition, the measurements match almost exactly. In the left-hand design of Pl. 27e the socle under the basement windows is 5 palmi high and the same height is inscribed in the plate of the palace in the Quattro libri (II, p. 7); the mezzanine of 7} palmt is identical in both cases and so is thé width of the half-columns (2 palmi), but there is a difference of $ palmo in height (18 in the design instead of 184). Dalla Pozza, op. cit., p. 167 f., advocates a relation of this drawing to the Palazzo Poiana at Vicenza. This palace, of 5 and not of 7 bays, is dependent on the Palazzo Porto. 4 Bk. II, chap. 7, p. 32, plan, letter “E” (“salotti di quattro XVII, 12: Elevation with Corinthian pilasters, basement with two alternatives for rustication. XVII, 9 (Pl. 27e): Two alternatives showing one solution with the mezzanine under the cornice and the other with it above the cornice similar to the execution. There can be no doubt that these drawings colonne”). relate to the Palazzo Porto. Like the final design all the mode.” 5 Reconstructed by Palladio in II, chap. 5: “Dell'Atrio di Quattro Colonne.’ 6 Bk. I, chap. 21, p. 48 about “sale” : ‘‘quanto più si approssimeranno al quadrato, tanto più saranno lodevoli, & com-

Alberti’s comparison between the forum of a town and the cortile of a house, says that “si dà prima d’occhio al cortile” as the centre where all the other parts come together. Palladio’s cortile with its giant composite colonnade (Pl. 27d) was of a grandeur hitherto unsurpassed; it meant an entirely new departure for the Italian cortile, the reverberations of which are still to be found in Bernini’s Louvre project. This revolution was brought about because Palladio wanted to make the height of the columns of the peristyle correspond to its breadth—an idea which Trissino had already expressed in his description of the enchanted palace.? This is clearly demonstrated in the illustration of the Quaitro libri although the actual circumstances prevented Palladio from adhering strictly to his theoretical ratios. Underlying this conception was probably Vitruvius’ demand (VI, iii, 7) that the height of the columns of the peristyle should correspond to the breadth of the colonnade. It is clear that, while the façade of the’ Palazzo Porto is still Bramantesque, the ground-plan was developed on novel lines. Palladio was evidently toying with the idea of re-creating the ancient house for modern use from Vitruvius’ text. A further step in this development is represented by the Palazzo Thiene, built between 1556 and 1558 (Pl. 28b).4 The group of the atrium with adjoining rooms, octagonal rooms in the corners and, next to them, winding stairs, corresponds in essence to Palladio’s reconstruction of the Roman house as published in Barbaro’s Vitruvius, significantly in the year (1556) when the structure of the Palazzo Thiene was rising (Pl. 28d). But a feature unknown in ancient houses was also incorporated into this plan. The sequence of rooms opposite the main entrance, consisting of small octagonal and rectangular rooms, and, in the centre, a long hall with apsidal ends, is an entirely novel combination. The long apsidal room had been used by Palladio, not only in the two side blocks of the Roman house of Barbaro’s illustration, but also in the similarly arranged side blocks of the Greek house in the Quattro libri; but in neither of them is there anything like the dynamic variety of shapes of the Palazzo Thiene. Palladio had found such arrangements when studying the Roman therme and Hadrian’s Villa at Tivoli, and he believed them to be ancient domestic features. At this stage of his development he had an eye for the dynamic effect of such a suite of rooms, and ancient precedents were an excuse for their employment. No one had hitherto thought of vitalizing ancient planning in this way. Nor can a contemporary plan be found in the whole of Italy which comes anywhere near such a distribution of rooms. The most elaborate reconstruction of the Roman house was planned and partly executed by Palladio in 1561 for the Convent of the Carita at Venice (Pl. 28c).7 Palladio says himself in his description of the building: “I have endeavoured to make this house like those of the ancients; and therefore I have made a Corinthian Atrium to it . . ” Here, at last, he had an opportunity of building a real atrium with an opening in the ceiling.® The sacristy and a corresponding small room, which both adjoin the atrium like wings, are called by him “‘tablinum,” the tablinum being that room of the ancient house which connects atrium and peristyle. From the atrium one proceeds into the cloister which, being too large for one giant order, was given a system in three tiers derived from that of the Colosseum. At the far end of the cloister is the refectory, instead of the ecus of the ancient house. All the other plans for palaces take their place in this evolution, and appear as partial realizations 1 Commentary to Vitruvius VI, chap. 3, p. 171. 2Cf. above, p. 102. Trissino’s “colonne tonde Che son tant’ alte, quando é la larghezza Del pavimento . . .” may, however, after Vitruvius, be interpreted that the height of the columns corresponds to the width of the colonnade. 3 Cf. the measurements of the courtyard given by Bertotti Scamozzi, op. cit., pls. 6, 8. 4 Palladio, I, pp. 10-13. Inscriptions on fagade (1556) and courtyard (1558). Cf. S. Rumor, Jl Palazzo della Banca Popolare, Vicenza, 1912. Only about one-third of the original plan was finished. 5 Bk. II, p. 42. 6 See e.g. the sequence of round and octagonal rooms in the Therme of Constantine or of octagonal, apsidal and rectangular rooms in the Thermz of Diocletian. For the large apsidal hall along one side of a peristyle, cf. the Thermz of Agrippa. 7 Now Accademia delle Belle Arti. Only a small portion of the plan was executed. Palladio, II, chap. 6, pp. 27-30. See also Cicognara, Diedo and Selva, Le Fabbriche e i monumenti più cospicui di Venezia, 1840 (2nd ed.), pp. 81 ff., pls. 207-211; F. Lazzari, I! Convento della Carita, 1835. 8 The Corinthian atrium, according to Vitruvius, VI, iii, 1, has rows of columns alongside the open space.

From Barbaro’s c— Convent ofthe Carita, Venice, 1561. From Palladio’s Quattro libri ( p. 114) (p. 115) e— Palladio Palazzo Antonini at Udine, 1556. From Quattro libri From Bertotti hoe # b—Palazzo Thiene. Scamozzi ( p. 114) d—Palladio’s Reconstruction of the Roman House. Vitruvius (p. 114) a— Palazzo Porto-Colleoni. From Palladio’s Quattro libri (p. 113) x ads os ome =d pe

1 d 4 wae 29 5) c—Detail of Palladio’s “Piazza.” From Quattro libri (p. 115) d—Palladio, Palazzo Thiene ; Vicenza, 1556-8 (p. 115f.) e—Palazzo Thiene. Haupt (p. 115f.) After f—Palazzo Thiene. Detail of groundfloor ( p. 116)

of the ideal towards which Palladio was steadily working.! While the planning thus became gradually more Roman, the fagades tended to break away from the simple classicism of Bramante which determined the Basilica and the Palazzo Porto. Palazzo Chiericato (Pl. 29a), however, probably designed shortly after the Palazzo Porto, presented a particular problem.? The palace was to be built along one side of a large square, and not in a narrow street. Palladio therefore visualized ‘its facade in terms of a Roman forum, and gave the lengthy front colonnades in two tiers. That the idea of a forum was in his mind can be proved from his own words; he says in the chapter on “Piazze”: “Porticoes, such as the ancients used, ought to be made round the piazze.”’® Of course, the colonnade of the piano nobile is interrupted by the five slightly projecting centre bays which form a proper palazzo front derived from the same Bramantesque prototype as the Palazzo Porto. But this deviation from the ideal was not only an artistic necessity; it belonged to the sphere of the useful and the practicable, which play such an important part in the Quattro libri, and which he always strove to reconcile with his ideal demands. On the other hand, Palladio made his theoretical conception quite evident in his illustration of the whole façade (Pl. 29b); for he left the orders white, and shaded all the walls in the same manner, regardless of whether they were joined to the colonnade or placed much further back. A comparison, moreover, of this view with the elevation of his “piazza” confirms this point (Pl. 29c). Such a comparison also shows that he conceived the colonnades of the piazza with rich Ionic and Corinthian orders, while at the period of the Palazzo Chiericato a chaste Doric below and an unadorned Ionic order above were chosen. The Doric has still something of the simple grandeur of Bramante’s Tempietto, and is entirely untouched by the problematic style of Michelangelo, who at exactly this period was reviving an ancient piazza in his design for the Capitol. Gualdo reports that Palladio was in Rome in 1554. This visit must have opened his eyes to the meaning of contemporary architecture. Not only his planning but also the style of his fagades went through a metamorphosis after his return. The first document of this change is the façade of the Palazzo Thiene (1556) (Pl. 29d, e). Although the one executed front shows again rustication below and order above, expression and emphasis are entirely different from the Palazzo Porto. The rustication of the basement here is not a pattern with a decorative quality; its large, rough blocks convey, on the contrary, the impression of mass and power similar to, if somewhat tamer than, the rustication of Augustus’ walls round the forums, which were the model for Bramante’s Palazzo di S. Biagio‘ and for the other palaces of this group. The entrance gate, with its heavy, alternating small and large bosses overlapping the rustication of the wall, was a feature constantly used and varied in Italian Mannerism after Raphael had introduced it in the Palazzo Pandolfini in Florence. The wall of the piano nobile is not smooth as in the Bramantesque Roman palaces, but consists of sharply cut, flat rustication on which the order is superimposed. With this arrangement Palladio takes up the tradition which leads back through the Cancelleria and Alberti’s Palazzo Ruccellai to the top storey of the Colosseum; and Palladio’s own reconstruction of the exterior of the Pantheon shows that he regarded this treatment as common in antiquity. The contradiction inherent in this combination attracted Mannerist architects, and they exploited it in various ways from Giulio Romano’s Palazzo del Tè to Alessi’s Palazzo Marino in Milan. Palladio himself made the contrast between 1 One example may show how this is meant. Palazzo Antonini at Udine (1556, Pl. 28e. Palladio, II, p. 3) consists of a tetrastyle atrium from which one goes, as should be the case, straight into the tablinum; right and left from it open small rooms, Vitruvius’ alae. Further on in the main axis is a small passage (the ancient vestibulum, shown in Palladio’s reconstruction of the Greek house between the street and the atrium) with the staircases at both sides; from here one reaches the loggia which replaces the ancient œcus. There is no peristyle. The plan would therefore appear to be a contraction or abbreviation of that of the ancient house, adapted to the particular circumstances. Burger, op. cit., p. 69, has demonstrated the derivation of the Villa Thiene at Quinto from Vitruvius’ description of the Greek house. 2 Palladio, II, pp. 4, 5. Now Museo Civico. The foundation stone was laid November, 1551, cf. G. Pettina, Vicenza, p. 126. Payments for the design began on November 15, 1550, cf. Dalla Pozza, of. cit., p. 188. Only partly built by Palladio, finished with minor alterations towards the end of the 17th century, cf. Bertotti Scamozzi, op. cit., I, p. 29 ff. The festoons along the windows and the groups at both sides of the staircase, shown in Palladio’s illustration, were never executed. 3 Palladio, III, chap. 16, p. 27. Cf. previously Alberti, bk. VIII, chap. 6. 4 Cf. Giovannoni in Bolletino d’Arte VIII, 1914, p. 185 ff,

the heavy quoins and voussoirs of the window tabernacles and the regular, flat rustication of the wall with the smooth, large pilasters the main theme of the fagade. The idea of using a rusticated order—the Ionic columns of the tabernacles are here almost invisible under the square bosses—could also be supported by the classical example of the Porta Maggiore in Rome.! But it was only in Mannerist architecture that the motive came into its own. Mannerist architects were enchanted with the “unfinished” appearance of such an order, and the motive had many facets, as can be seen in its use by Giulio Romano, Sansovino, Sanmicheli, Ammannati, Dosio, Alessi, Vignola and many others. In the case of the Palazzo Thiene the rusticated small Ionic columns and the smooth, large Corinthian pilasters were related in a subtle way. An entablature running along under the large pilasters links up all the window columns? so that a coherent small order alternates with the large one. The complicated rhythm created by the interpenetration of a small and a large order is a recurrent motive of Mannerist architecture. The horizontal line of the frieze of the small order, running across the length of the façade, has still another result; it interferes with the consistency of the rusticated wall, cutting it, as it were, in two; this same idea was introduced in the basement (Pl. of), where two almost polished bands above and below the windows contrast with the irregular surface of the rusticated blocks. In spite of such Mannerist factors as conflict and complication, we find in the building neither Michelangelo's extreme tension, nor Giulio Romano’s almost pathological restlessness; it is orderly, systematic and entirely logical, and one looks at it with a disengaged curiosity rather than with that violent response which many more complex Mannerist structures evoke. And let it be said, all its details had the warrant of classical prototypes. A further step in the direction of a Mannerist solution is the fagade of the Palazzo Valmarana, built in 1566 (Pl. 30a, b).3 It is obvious that this façade is a reference to the problematic architecture of Michelangelo. The stimulus of the Capitoline palaces is apparent in the combined use of a giant and a small order. But apart from this basic idea the differences are considerable. In the Palazzo Valmarana the wall is almost eliminated, and the surface is crowded with motives. The window frames in the piano nobile touch the entablature above, and are hemmed in at the sides by the enormous capitals. An unequal, typically Mannerist, competition arises between the slender profiles of the windows and the bulky mass of the pilasters. Moreover, the treatment of the groundfloor is extremely complicated, for the small Corinthian order is not applied to a proper wall (Pl. goc). The ground, where it does not consist of windows, is rusticated, but this rustication has been given a particular meaning. At the sides of the windows it has been treated like Tuscan pillars with their own capitals, which normally carry arches,‘ and this results in the impression of a third minute order; the relationship of the giant composite order to the small Corinthian order is repeated in the relationship of the Corinthian to the Tuscan pilasters. Above the windows are reliefs, and as they are in a deeper plane than the rustication, the latter appears like a frame to them, the lower border being at the same time the lintel of the windows. In all this, one would be inclined to believe, Palladio was going his own way, without regard to ancient models. But even for this building he reverted to classical antiquity, and found there, surprisingly enough, his justification for the extremely complicated interplay of wall and order (Pl. 30d).® The Palazzo Valmarana is not coherent in its.system, as were all the other structures which have been discussed. It is not only broken into and interrupted by the extravagantly high entrance, but also by the complete change of treatment of the two end bays. The windows are framed differently and are different in height, and, above all, the colossal order is matched and balanced at the corners by a small Corinthian pilaster which carries a caryatid figure. The disquieting 1 Among the drawings by Palladio in Vicenza is one showfoundation medal, reported by Magrini (op. cit., p. xxiv, also ing the Porta Maggiore and on the verso are three Roman Pp. 79) bears the date 1566. Cf. also the document of Dec. 14, 1565, published by Dalla Pozza, op. cit., p. 222 f. arches on the Celio with a heavy rusticated Tuscan order. The inscription in Palladio’s handwriting says: ‘‘questa opera sie a santo joane paulo...” (Pl. 30e). 3 The linking up of the window tabernacles already occurs in the Palazzo Pandolfini, but of course without a large order cutting across the band of the frieze. 8 Palladio II, pp. 14, 15. Generally dated 1556, but the 4 Cf. Palladio’s Tuscan arches, bk. I, p. 14. 5 See two drawings by Palladio in the Burlington-Devonshire Coll. (vol. XII, nos. 13 and 22 v) after a wall above the Roman Theatre at Verona, cf. Pirro Marconi, Verona Romana, 1937, p. 133, fig. 88.

a— Palladio, Palazzo Valmarana, b— Palazzo Valmarana. Vicenza, 1566 ( p. 116) ladio’s Quattro libri (.p. 116) 47% AREN From Pal- UML i naad d—Palladio, Drawing after a Roman Wall at Verona, R.I.B.A. ( p. 116) e—Palladio, Drawing after Roman arches on the Gianicolo, Museo Civico, Vicenza

a—-Palladio, Loggia Capitano, Vicenza, 1571 b—Side Front of the Loggia del Capitano. After Haupt (p. 117) (D 117) c—Arch of Septimius Severus (p. 117) d—Detail of the Side Front of the Loggia del Capitano (p. 117) e—-Palladio’s Decoration for Henri IIT’s Visit to Venice, 1574. Painting by Andrea Vicentino, Palazzo Ducale (p. 118)

effect of this arrangement was observed and pat on paper in the 18th century when Temanza lamented that the corners had been weakened though these were just the points which should show the greatest strength.! We know now, that in no other building did Palladio approach Mannerist conceptions to an equal degree. Language and patience have limits when describing a Mannerist structure, and many other features of this building may be left unrecorded. But a case of typical Mannerist inversion seems worth mentioning.® The cornice projects above each pilaster of the large order, but there is no such projection at the corners, above the caryatids; the entablature of the small order, on the other hand, is in one plane throughout, with the exception of the corners where it projects under the caryatids. A similar inversion can be found in an example of ancient ‘‘Mannerist”’ architecture, the Porta de’Borsari in Verona, which was well known to Palladio, and the influence of which can be traced in other late works of his. At this phase of his development Palladio was discovering the unclassical tendencies in ancient architecture. Anyone familiar with the development in Italy will see that Palladio’s individual style is here in keeping with the general trend of Mannerist architecture. But this was not Palladio’s last word. The most important building of his late style is the Loggia del Capitano at Vicenza, of which only three bays were erected, in 1571 (Pl. 31a).4 This type of building has its place in the long tradition of the Palazzo Comunale, the Palazzo del Consiglio or del Podesta, with open loggias for public use below and the offices above.5 Palladio again devised the main front towards the piazza after the model of Michelangelo’s Capitoline palaces. Yet he abandoned the interplay of several orders, and gave the front a most powerful accentuation of giant half-columns. The treatment of the bays themselves is remarkable: the windows are cut through the entablature,® and very heavy balconies are carried by small cornices of their own under which hang isolated triglyphs. Such reversal of classical usage—very rare with Palladio— was first carried out by Michelangelo in the tabernacles of the Ricetto,? and had become almost a stock feature of Mannerist architecture. One of the strangest features of this front is the horror vacui ; all free wall-space disappears under a bewildering maze of stucco reliefs, some of which have now crumbled away. In addition, the small scale and flatness of these decorations is in remarkable contrast to the large-scale architecture in heavy relief. The key to this is to be found in the arrangement of the side front. It is surprising, and in contrast to Palladio’s ideas on architecture, that the system of the main front is not carried on at the side (Pl. 31b, d).8 The side front has no giant order, and forms a unit of its own, based on the triumphal arch motive.® The triumphal arch conception is taken up in the decoration of the main front; for it is the example of triumphal arches which explains the horror vacui. A similar crowding of the walls with reliefs is to be found on the Arch of Septimius Severus (Pl. 31c) and on that at Orange. Moreover, the former also shows the contrast between the smallness of the reliefs and the massiveness of the architectural members, while the latter is decorated all over with trophies, the symbols of victory. Now, with the exception of the figures above the arches, the reliefs of the Palazzo del Capitano represent trophies all’antica (Pl. 31d). 1 Op. cit., p. xxv. 2 On inversion as a Mannerist principle cf. Wittkower in Art Bulletin, XVI, 1934, p. 210. 8 It is interesting that Serlio in his 3rd book commented upon the Porta de’Borsari as being licentious and a “cosa barbara.” 4 Documents in Magrini, op. cit., p. 163 ff. The Loggia was to replace an earlier dilapidated one. 5 Here the Venetian magistrate was to officiate. The office was held in 1571 by Gio. Battista Bernardo as recorded in the inscription of the cornice: “IO. BAPTISTAE BERNARDO PRAEFECTO CIVITAS DICAVIT.” € This feature has been interpreted by authors with a classical bias as being due to the workmen during Palladio’s absence, cf. Bertotti Scamozzi, op. cit., I, p. 34 f. and F. V. Mosca, Descrizione delle Architetture, Pitture, e Scolture di Vicenza, 1779, II, p. 17 f., and others. However, Palladio proudly put his signature: ANDREA PALLADIO ARCHI” TETTO at the side front under the arch which almost cuts the entablature in two (see Pl. 31b). Moreover, Magrini (p. 169) has shown that Palladio was at Vicenza throughout 1571. 7 Cf. Wittkower, op. cit., p. 207. 8 This front faces on to a narrow street, but Palladio had shown in the Palazzo Valmarana that this did not deter him from using a giant order. 9 Above the arch with its two framing composite columns is a minute order of Tuscan pilasters. Both, the arrangement — Tuscan above Composite—and proportion, are quite unorthodox. It seems that the model for the proportions was again the Porta de’ Borsari at Verona. The breaking of the entablature by the arch in the first storey was authorized by the side front of the triumphal arch at Orange,

Palladio’s building would thus appear to be a monumental symbol of victory like the triumphal arches of antiquity. On the small front of the building are six allegorical figures, and the two in the lower tier leave no doubt about the victory which was here commemorated. They represent Peace and Victory, and have the following inscriptions: “Belli secura quiesco” and “Palmam genuere carinae.”! The ships which have brought victory can only refer to Lepanto, the decisive sea-battle against the Turks won in 1571, and this connection has always been recognized.? This also explains the two large allegories of victory above the arch of the small front, after the fashion of triumphal arches, and the figures above the arches of the main front. All their attributes consist of allusions to the element of water. Documents show that the Loggia was built by the Community of Vicenza with extraordinary speed. On April 18th, 1571, building had not yet begun, but during the summer the structure rose quickly, and by the end of the year it was roofed in. The victory of Lepanto was won on October 7th. On the 18th of this month it became known at Vicenza, which, being Venetian territory, was particularly stirred by the great news. Its reverberations made themselves felt immediately in the decision of the overjoyed community, taken on October 26th, to contribute 24,000 ducats to the expenses of the campaign. Impressed by this feat of arms, Palladio changed his original plans for the Loggia. He could not have decided on the triumphal decorations of the main front before the middle of October. Nor does it seem probable that the triumphal arch motive of the side was introduced before that date. Political actuality overruled considerations of artistic principle, and it must be assumed that an originally planned unity of main and side fronts was sacrificed under the impact of the victory. Even if the monumental loggia and the triumphal arch were thus blended at the eleventh hour, there still existed for Palladio an affinity between these two types of building. This is manifest in the decoration built by him in 1574 for the solemn visit to Venice of Henry III of France while on his way from Poland to Paris (Pl. 31e). The decoration was formed of a triumphal arch similar to that of Septimius Severus, and, behind it, a colonnade of 12 colossal Corinthian columns, which are equal in height to the columns of the arch.? In the Loggia del Capitano the two structures are, as it were, cast into one with the triumphal arch forming the small front. The monumental, which was already inherent in the Palazzo Valmarana, has in the Loggia del Capitano become the dominant factor, and overshadows the Mannerist features. At this phase, the emphasis on mass in late Roman architecture had a strong hold on Palladio’s imagination. Apart from the direct influence of the Arch of Constantine, the powerful remains of the ancient therme fascinated him. But the nearest parallels to this Loggia are Hellenistic buildings, such as the Temples at Baalbek, which were unknown to him. His own development had brought him to a point where he re-created the spirit of this kind of architecture. The Loggia del Capitano faces Palladio’s Basilica on the same square. The comparison shows clearly what has happened in the course of 25 years. Though emanating from the same classical sources the two buildings could not be more widely different. The early solution was based on a contemporary interpretation of classical architecture which was not his own. The later building is the expression of an essentially personal approach. In its design are strung together many classical 1In the upper tier at the two ends are Virtus as a young warrior (“uni virtutis genio’’) and Honor, as on the medal of Vitellius, as a young woman with uncovered breasts, cornucopia and a helmet under one foot (‘‘Dea nubit honoris’’), cf. Ripa, Zconologia, 1603, p. 203 (here also is expounded the close alliance of Honor and Virtus). In the most prominent position, left and right of the central arch, are the two Christian virtues Fides and Pietas. Fides with cross, flame and watering jug and a reference in the inscription to the heathen libation (‘‘Diis thure et corde libandum”) and Pietas with a stork at her side and a little child on her arm who holds an elephant’s head, all symbols mentioned by Ripa, p. 402. The inscription refers to the purifying power of Piety (‘‘Sordes pietas una abluit omnes”). The programme of the figures would thus appear to be: Virtue and Honour under the flag of Faith and Piety achieved Victory and Peace. 2 On the flood of works of art celebrating this victory, cf. A. Blunt in this Journal, III, 1939-40, p. 63 f. 3 Palladio’s decorations are shown in the picture by Andrea Vicentino in the Sala delle Quattro Porte of the Palazzo Ducale. For further references cf. Pier del Nolhac and Angelo Solerti, I! viaggio in Italia di Enrico III, 1890, particularly pp. 33 ff., 36 ff., 98 ff. Temanza, op. cit., reports that Consul Smith in Venice possessed exact drawings by Andrea Vicentino of these decorations. Cf. also L. Molmenti, Storia di Venezia nella vita privata, II, p. 103.

conceptions; yet far from being orthodox and arthzological, it seems a free and emotional transformation of ancient models. 4. The Genesis of an Idea: Palladio’s Church Façades Rather late in his life Palladio built two large churches and one church fagade in Venice. The facade is that of S. Francesco della Vigna, begun in 1562 and erected as a front to Jacopo Sansovino’s structure.1 The churches are S. Giorgio Maggiore and Il Redentore. The foundation stone of S. Giorgio was laid in 1566, but the front was erected between 1602 and 1610 by Scamozzi.? Il Redentore was dedicated during the plague of 1576, and completed in 1592, twelve years after Palladio’s death.® In this section only the three façades will be studied (Pl. 33a-d). They follow one and the same pattern: a colossal temple front is placed before the nave and a small order carrying part of a pediment before each of the aisles. This arrangement looks like an interpenetration of | Cis ZT] | _ | | LR u L Lf = | | L_ 1 S. Francesco della Vigna: Schematic Representation of the two interpenetrating Temple Fronts two temple fronts, a small, broad one which has been intersected by a high and monumental one (see fig.). The question is, why did Palladio have recourse to this arrangement in his three prominent façades? For Renaissance architects the church façade raised one of the most intricate problems. Those architects who thought in classical terms, and for whom the Christian church was the legitimate successor to the ancient temple,* wrestled constantly with attempts to apply the temple front to 1 Foundation stone of the church: 1534. The beginning of the facade is not absolutely certain. Vasari, Vite, ed. Milanesi, between 25th November, 1565 and 12th March, 1566). VII, p. 529, saw the structure rising. He was at Venice in report about his design, in Bottari, Racc. di lettere, 1822, I, p. 560 ff.; Temanza, op. cit., p. lxii ff. ; Moschini, Guida, II, ii, p. 343 f.; Magrini, op. cit., pp. 210 ff., lix (documents). Foundation stone: May 3rd, 1577. Cf. the fully documented monograph by P. Davide M. da Portogruaro in Rivista di Venezia, 1930 (April-May). 1566. According to Tassini, Curiosità Veneziane, 1933, p. 284 f. it was begun in 1562. Cf. also Magrini, op. cit., p. 65 ff. 2 Dates according to inscription on the fagade. For the history of S. Giorgio, cf. Temanza, op. cit., p. lxxif. ; Bertotti- Scamozzi, op. cit., IV, p. 11 f.; Francesco Sansovino, Venezia 3Cf. Palladio’s letter of 1577 with a most illuminating f They even talk about temples meaning churches. So does Alberti in his De re aedificatoria; so does Serlio whose fifth . .. descritta, ed. of 1668, p. 218 ff.; G. A. Moschini, Guida per la Città di Venezia, 1815, I, i, p. 553 Cicogna, Iscriz. Ven. IV, pp. 265, 331, 402 ff.; Cicognara, etc., Le Fabbriche e i monumenti cospicui di Venezia, 1840, II, p. 15 ff, pls. 133-137; book deals with “diverse forme di Tempij sacri, secondo il costume Christiano, & al modo antico,” and so does Palladio Magrini, op. cit., pp. 62, xxii (documents about model built in the preface to his 4th book.

the church. But unlike the ancient temple with its one cella, most churches were built on the basilican system with a high nave and lower aisles. How could the temple front with its simple portico and pediment be applied to such a structure? The first solution was radical. By ignoring the character of the structure behind, one large temple front was made to cover both nave and aisles. This was how Alberti tackled the problem in S. Andrea at Mantua (1470) (Pl. 32a).1 At the same time he approximated his system to that of triumphal arches—structures in which the order is joined to the wall—and found here his justification, not only for the translation of the free-standing portico of the temple into terms of wall architecture, but also for the echoing of nave and aisles in the large central and the narrow side bays. This combination of temple front and triumphal arch, though a convincing arrangement, was too personal a solution to be generally accepted. It was also in most cases impossible, for reasons of proportion, to cover with one temple front both nave and aisles. The next step was taken by Bramante ten years after S. Andrea in a design for the façade of S. Maria di S. Satiro in Milan (Pl. 32b).? Here for the first time during the Renaissance parts of pediments were used to correspond with the aisles,? and the impression was created of a cleavage of a large pediment by a central feature which is also crowned by a pediment. In keeping with traditional façades Bramante planned two storeys, a large one across the whole width of the façade and, above it, a small one corresponding to the nave. The four large pilasters of the principal storey, though reflecting in their position nave and aisles, are all the same size and in the same plane. So one unifying system without “joints” binds nave and aisles together. The height of the nave is split in two by the cornice, and the feature above with its circular window has a typical Quattrocentesque character. In contrast to Palladio’s solution, the order determined by the aisles is the dominating motive of the front. From Palladio’s standpoint such a fagade was not an organic answer to the problem. However, Bramante regarded his design as warranted by antiquity. The logical procedure for an architect with a classical bias was to investigate the kind of fagade used by the ancients for their basilicas. The answer was given in Vitruvius’ dark words about the “double arrangement of gables” in the Basilica of Fano.* That Bramante endeavoured with his design for S. Satiro to interpret this passage, can indirectly be proved. For his pupil Cesariano in his edition of Vitruvius (1521) illustrated the Basilica of Fano with a design deriving from Bramante’s project (PI. 32f).5 The next step towards Palladio’s solution was taken by Peruzzi in the façade to the old Cathedral at Carpi, built in 1515 (Pl. 32c).® The connection with Bramante’s design is obvious. But Peruzzi here takes the decisive step of using a giant order for the nave and a small order for the aisles; thus he almost anticipated Palladio’s solution. However he did not carry his novel design to its logical end. Like Alberti he again fused the temple front with the triumphal arch motive. He therefore failed—in Palladio’s view—to establish the temple fronts in their own right. Nor did he safeguard the unity of the side bays, for no properly finished half-pilaster corresponds on the inside to the Corinthian pilaster outside. Palladio accomplished what his predecessors had begun. He was intent on preserving the pure temple front before the nave: S. Francesco della Vigna and S. Giorgio are prostyles, Il Redentore is a temple in antis, all of them of course projected on to a wall. The small bays corresponding to the aisles at each side of the slightly projecting central part are clearly defined and bound together by order outside and inside. But the rhythm of the small order penetrates into the main temple 1 Cf. the analysis of S. Andrea in my article in this Journal, (1536) and Philander (1544); the latter was used for our IV, p. 16 ff. illustration. 2 First published by Beltrami in Rassegna d’ Arte, I, 1901, p. 33 ff. 6 The attribution to Peruzzi is not undisputed, cf. W. Winthrop Kent, Peruzzi, p. 28, pl. 30, also article in Thieme- 3 Cf. this motive in the late 15th century Florentine engraving of the Presentation in the Temple (Hind B. I. 4), probably based on Vitruvius’ description of the Basilica at Fano (see below). 4 Cf. Vitruvius, V, i, 10: “Ita fastigiorum duplex tecti nata...” 5 The same design was still used in the editions by Caporali Becker and Venturi, Storia dell’arte, XI, 1, p. 392, who believes that the fagade is of Lombardo-Bramantesque origin. The context in which the fagade is shown in the present study would seem to strengthen the old attribution to Peruzzi. But this matter cannot be finally decided without an opportunity of studying it at first hand.

a— Alberti, S. Andrea, Mantua, 1470 b_— Bramante, Design for S. Maria di S. Satiro, Milan, c. 1480, Louvre ( p. 120) d—Palladio, Design for S. Giorgio Maggiore, R.I.B.A. ( p. 121f.) e—Palladio’s Design of the Pantheon. From Burlington’s Fabbriche Antiche, 1730 (D. 121) f—Cesariano’s Reconstruction of the Basilica at Fano. From Philander’s Vitruvius, 1544 (p. 120)

SESS| a—Palladio, S. Francesco della Vigna, 1562. Bertotti Scamozzi ( p. 119f.) c—Palladio, Il Redentore, 1576-92. From Bertotti Scamozzi ( p. 119f.) From b—Palladio, S. Giorgio Maggiore, 1566-1610. From Bertotti Scamozzi (p. 119ff.) d—Il Redentore ( p. 119ff.)

front not only with the order framing the central door but also with the entablature the continuity of which is suggested right across the whole façade. Thus the two systems were firmly linked. However, the calculated interlocking of two different temple fronts makes the “reading” of such a façade no easy matter. This is a Mannerist conception, far removed from what might be called Renaissance naïveté. In contrast to Michelangelo, Palladio’s mannerism is academic; it is hardly ever concerned with detailed forms; capitals, tabernacles and entablatures retain their classical significance, shape and ratio. It is the interplay of large classical features which, in his case, accounts for the Mannerist character of the whole. However, Palladio never undertook anything which to him was not legitimized by antiquity. The idea of using two pediments in one building was sanctioned by the existence of two pediments in the front of the Pantheon, one crowning the portico, the other further back and attached to the high attic which projects from the Rotunda (Pl. 32e). It is from here also that Palladio derived his attic for the Redentore. Almost all the measured drawings of the Pantheon made during the later 16th century show the two pediments, and Palladio himself reconstructed it twice with them, once for the Quattro libri, and a second time in the series of thermæ which were published by Lord Burlington (Pl. 32e). The men who reconstructed the front of the Pantheon in this way thought in terms of complicated wall arrangements, and took it for granted, therefore, that the two pediments were a homogenous classical conception. The views of the Pantheon drawn in the 15th and early 16th centuries show only one pediment. These views are also accurate if it is considered that from a near distance the second pediment is invisible. The men of the Quattrocento, thinking and seeing in terms of simple wall arrangements, assume this near distance.! In the 17th century a more detached archeological approach led Carlo Fontana to conclude that the portico was a later addition to the original Pantheon, and he reconstructed it in its supposed simplicity without any portico.” Following the precedent of the Pantheon, and with Vitruvius’ description of the Basilica of Fano in mind, Palladio reconstructed the façade of the Basilica of Constantine—which for him was the “Tempio della Pace”—with intersecting pediments.3 It is evident that he regarded this as a well-established classical solution. So far we have only considered Palladio’s three fagades in the light of their fundamental unity. Although in all three cases the system is identical, there are still important differences. S. Francesco and S. Giorgio, chronologically very near, show also a close resemblance. It must, however, be said that S. Giorgio as we see it to-day does not correspond to Palladio’s intentions. The two orders do not rise from the same level. The large half-columns stand on a high base while the small pilasters rise almost from the ground. This discrepancy in level which is particularly unfortunate where the high bases cut into the adjoining pilasters, is not the only fault in this fagade.* Palladio’s original design has been preserved in a measured drawing (Pl. 32d)5 which allows us to assess the later alterations. This drawing proves that he wanted large and small orders to rise from the same 1 One pediment shown for instance in the Codex Escurialensis, cf. H. Egger’s edition, 1905, fol. 43v, and also by Cronaca (drawing, Uffizi, illustr. in Lukomski, J maestri della architettura classica, 1933, p. 293) and still by Heemskerck (Egger-Hülsen, Die römischen Skizzenbücher von Marten van Heemskerck, Berlin, 1913, I, fol. ror) and Serlio (bk. III). A reconstruction with two pediments similar to that by Palladio, for instance by Dosio (drawing, Uffizi, cf. Bartoli, Monumenti V, figs. 848, 881). 2C. Fontana, Templum Vaticanum, 1694, p. 457. 3 Bk. IV, p. 11. 4 The height of the bases has been repeated in the socles of the tabernacles of the outer bays. These socles are disproportionately high in relation to the tabernacles, and, moreover, the pilaster of the small order appears entirely squeezed in between the two socles. BR. Inst. of British Architects, Burlington-Devonshire Coll., vol. XIV, no. 12. The relation of the drawing to S. Giorgio Maggiore is made certain by the tabernacle with the small sarcophagus in the side bay. The sarcophagi and busts*of the executed front were erected in honour of the doges Tribuno Memmo and Sebastiani Ziani, one the mythical founder of the monastery, the other its benefactor. The drawing proves that this idea was incorporated into the original design. Moreover, the proportions of Palladio’s design correspond almost exactly to those of the actual fagade (height of aisle and nave and width of aisle), and therefore, in reconstructing the former, one must assume that it was intended to stand on the lowest possible base. The idea of placing the columns on the pavement without a high base was particularly dear to Palladio. In bk. IV, chap. 5 he said concerning this point: ‘‘Ma però nei Tempi Antichi non si veggono Piedestalli, ma le colonne cominciano dal piano del Tempio; il che molto mi piace: si perchè con i piedestili si impedisce molto lentrata al Tempio; si anco perché le colonne, le quali da terra cominciano, rendono maggior grandezza, e magnificenza.”

level and, no doubt, he must have regarded this as essential to the unity of his design.! Any comparison of S. Francesco and S. Giorgio has to be based on this drawing. It appears then that in spite of the similarity in general treatment there is a development in these fagades. The small order has gained in importance as compared with S. Francesco and the relationship between small and large order is now very near that of the late Redentore. This makes the interpenetration of the two temple fronts more convincing. There is another point worth mentioning about the draw: ing. It is unfinished and it is just this fact which throws a light on Palladio’s thought. The large order stands out still without any detail of the wall behind, and has the quality of the portico of a Corinthian temple. The relation of S. Francesco and S. Giorgio to the Redentore can be compared with that of the Palazzo Valmarana to the Loggia del Capitano. In the late fagade of the Redentore there is, above all, a new and powerful concentration; the large temple motive dominates and no distracting details appear in the outer bays, while the entrance bay is filled entirely by the simple columned tabernacle framing the door. In addition, the wide staircase, imitating that of ancient temples, ties together the three bays of the large order. But with this feeling for concentration goes a complexity which did not appear in the earlier fagades. The interplay of the two temple systems is now emphasized by peculiar repetitions. The large pediment is repeated in the door pediment, and the parts of pediments of the side bays are repeated higher up on a deeper plane; they run into a rectangular attic. This type of architecture is far removed from the simple and unsophisticated classicism of Palladio’s early period. Although Palladio’s intersecting temple fronts are—as we have seen—a typical late 16th century interpretation of ancient architecture, his scheme fulfils the vital demands of all classical architecture since the days of antiquity. By using temple motives in front of nave and aisles, i.e. motives of the same species, and by carrying the theme through with absolute consistency, congruity of all the parts, Vitruvius’ dispositio, was achieved. Moreover, his structures also obey Vitruvius’ all-important postulate of symmetria, which is the fixed mathematical ratio of the parts to each other and to the whole. The facade of S. Francesco della Vigna may be used for a demonstration. In accordance with Vitruvius, a unit of measurement, the modulus, was applied to all dimensions in the building. The basic unit is the diameter of the small columns which is 2 feet (piedi). The diameter of the large order is 2 moduli, i.e. 4 feet. The height of the small columns is 20 feet (10 moduli), that of the larger ones 40 feet (20 moduli). In both cases the ratio of diameter to height is 1 :10 and that of the small order to the large order is 1:2. The width of the intercolumniation of the centre bay is again 20 (10 moduli). Without giving more details it is evident that simple ratios of the same modulus are effective throughout the building. But this is not the whole story. Symmetria for Palladio meant more than applied arithmetic. The whole centre part in front of the nave is 27 moduli wide. Palladio, inheriting a long tradition, conceived his structures as reflections and echoes of that cosmic order which Pythagoras and Plato had revealed. The explanation of the apparently irrational figure 27, which can only be supplied by taking into account those philosophical issues behind Palladio’s ideas on proportion, will be given in the second part of this paper. With his scheme for the church fagades Palladio had solved one of the great problems of Christian architecture. From a classical point of view one cannot go beyond his solution and this is the reason why Palladio himself repeated the same type in his three façades for basilican churches.? Once the problem was solved he could vary the answer without changing its essence. Whatever one may think about Palladio’s fagades, it must be admitted that they represent the climax of adevelopment to which, significantly, the great classical architects Alberti, Bramante and Peruzzi had contributed. It is not surprising, therefore, that Palladio’s solution proved to be one of the great European successes and that it was copied for 250 years all over Europe. (To be concluded.) 1 All the difficulties of the executed front are here solved. See also the proportionate relation of the socle to the tabernacle. ' 3 He suggested it also for the front of the Cathedral at Brescia in his memorandum of 1567, cf. Magrini, op. cit., Appendix, p. 13. His designs for the facade of S. Petronio at Perugia follow the same pattern, above all that of 1578 with the inscription: “Dissegno in correctiope e novo modo del Palladio” (Museo di S. Petronio, no. 20, cf. Zucchini, op. eit.,