Art on the Grand Tour. Week Five. Two Views of a City: Ancient and Modern Rome

Approaches to Rome on the Grand Tour.

Unlike Florence, there was a very different cultural situation in Rome. There was no paucity of views, records, maps, written accounts of the Eternal City. It was clearly the main destination of travellers on the Grand Tour, and to most of them, Florence was just a place on the road to Rome, their ultimate cultural goal. Above all, in “a culture dominated by the classics, Rome was the focus of interest and tourists responded accordingly.”[1] There was a thriving tourist economy in Rome, supported by a network of cicerones, antiquarians, dealers, artists, and other experts versed in aspects of the city’s history and culture. In addition to the classic monumentality of its ruins, Rome also offered the visitor baroque painting, sculpture and architecture. Rome was approached via cities like Siena which generally didn’t meet with the approval of the travellers, again another way-station to them. Neither were visitors enamoured of the approach to the city across the Roman campagna described by one traveller as “wretched, barren, sandy country all the way to the very gates of Rome.”[2] However, the Roman campagna with its expansive views of Rome proved irresistible to artists like Richard Wilson and John Frearson[3], who under the influence of Claude, represent the city and its environs in a roseate glow. The first port of call on arrival in Rome would have been somewhere like the Piazza di Popolo or the Piazza di Spagna. The latter was famous for spectacular entertainments like the Roman carnival and the Girandola, the annual fireworks display set off from the Castel Sant’ Angelo. Various artists painted the pyrotechnics and there is an amusing drawing by Scottish artist David Allan that shows a young aristocrat’s coach arriving in the Piazza della Spagna during the Roman carnival. It is a wonderful (and satiric) evocation of Roman society. From the steps of the Villa des Londres, a servant disperses beggars while on the other side of the square can be seen the Caffe degli Inglesi. Finally, there is a group of ciceroni and picture dealers offering pornographic images as well as copies or fakes of Old Masters.  

Att to John Frearson, Rome seen on a Grand Tour, probably 1790s, David Ker Fine Art, London, oil on canvas, measurements not known.

Richard Wilson, Rome: St Peter’s and the Vatican from the Janiculum, 1753-4, Tate Gallery, London, oil on canvas, 100.3 x 139 cms.

Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720-78), Piazza del Popolo, before 1751, etching, Royal Institute of British Architects.

 

The Artistic Community in Rome.

The idea of an artistic community in Rome can be traced back to the 17^th century when there was a huge cultural and national mix of painters working in the city. However, Rome never really became a truly European artistic community until the late 18^th century. If an artist wanted to address his work to a “European rather than a national or regional constituency” he or she would find no better time than then.[4] This international circle of connoisseurs and the culture of antiquity in Rome is perfectly captured in the over-elegant portraits of Pompeo Batoni which generally show rich aristocrats in sumptuous rooms surrounded by antiquities. Getting one’s picture painted by Batoni would be the highlight of many a milordi on the Grand Tour.[5] The British in Rome were a very incestuous group: they often travelled together, had attended the same schools, and frequented the same circle of agents and antiquarians who all visited the same palaces and monuments. Yet this artistic society was far from what Canova called the “democracy of art.” As in any competitive environment, enmity was present. The English painter James Northcote who went on the Grand Tour had no illusions:” no people hate, envy and despise each other like painters.” 

 Pompeo Batoni, Self-Portrait, 1773-74, Uffizi, Florence, oil on canvas, measurements not known.

Pompeo Batoni, (1741-1820), Richard Milles, c. 1758, National Gallery, London, c. 1758, 136.5 x 99.1 cm.

Pompeo Batoni, Thomas Dundas, later 1^st Baron Dundas, 1763-64, Aske Hall, North Yorkshire, oil on canvas, 298 x 196.8 cms

James Northcote, Self-Portrait, Plymouth Art Gallery, oil on canvas, 75.7 x 62.8 cm.

Sensory Overload and the Roman Experience. 

In recent years the idea of contagion and illness has found its way into the scholarly literature on the Grand Tour. One theory is that, on arrival in Rome, artists were overcome by the abundant and dizzying choice of art on offer which threw them into confusion, awe (especially in the presence of Michelangelo’s Sistine frescoes) and even illness. This illness is then linked to the idea of contagion which is seen as; (a), a metaphor for the harmful influence of mediocre- or what are perceived as subpar painters- on artists in Rome; (b) the climate of Rome which is linked with certain notions of temperament.[6] This illness is supposedly brought on by being in the presence of great artists, which reminds us of the Stendhalian syndrome, overpowering of the senses in the presence of masterpieces.  As Wrigley says, consideration of the Roman experience involves “the approach to the city and the transition from expectation to encounter.”[7] On arrival in Rome some artists insisted on trying to see everything at once. After an exhausting journey to Rome, the French neo-classicist painter, Joseph Marie Vien was dragged off by his colleagues to see the sites which resulted in his physical collapse, and many other hyperactive painters paid the penalty for a less measured engagement with the sights of Rome. In order to control the sensory overload brought on by viewing art in Rome, it was necessary for the traveller, artist or not, to devise strategies for coping with this excess. The millionaire voyager William Beckford who was accompanied by the artist John Robert Cozens superimposed his own imaginative architecture over buildings such as the Colosseum and St Peter's. Using his imagination, Beckford orientalised St Peter's re-imagining it as a giant Chinese pagoda. Beckford also mentally imported Piranesi’s Carceri engravings which heavily influenced the gothic sublime, into his mind palace. Thus Beckford managed to integrate his mental voyaging within the stylistic shift from Classical to Gothic which influenced the aesthetics of the Grand Tour.

Hubert Robert, Draughtsman Copying Domenichino’s Flagellation of St Andrew, in San Gregorio al Celio, Rome, 1763, Pierpont Morgan Library, New York, red chalk, 32.9 x 44.8 cm.

Domenichino, The Flagellation of St Andrew, 1609, San Gregorio Magno, Rome, fresco.

Henry Fuseli, Artist Moved by the Grandeur of Ancient Ruins, 1778-80, red chalk and sepia wash, 42 x 35.2 cms.

Hubert Robert, Painters, 1790s, The Hermitage, St. Petersburg, oil on canvas, 24 x 32 cm.

Ancient Rome.

In the 18^th century Rome could be divided into two cities: the city of the popes, St Peter’s and the city of the ancients, both symbolically and physically present in monuments like the Colosseum and the Pantheon. Something of the grandeur of the ancient city was evoked by the author of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Edward Gibbon, whose sojourn amongst the ruins inspired him to write that historical work.[8]  Generally, the British viewed Rome as an illustration of ancient history and classical culture. For many erudite travellers, seeing the ruins provided certification of their impressions of the ancient world gleaned from reading the classics at their public schools. This antiquarian culture with its emphasis on scholarly, empirical research cross-checked with the written sources, contrasts with the picturesque treatment of ruins, statues and monuments in paint and word during the later stages of the Grand Tour. Fired up by reading the poetry of Ovid and Virgil, poets and novelists rejected the archaeological approach and waxed lyrically about the myths of the ancient past. For example, in Mme de Stael’s Corinne of 1807, the heroine’s country house is at Tivoli, at the Temple of the Sybil, a famous mythological creature found in Virgil’s Aeneid. As for painters, inspired by Claude and the landscape itself, they represented Rome imaginatively, sometimes showing their patrons amongst the ruins of ancient civilizations. 

Giovanni Paolo Panini, Gallery of Views of Ancient Rome, 1758, Musée du Louvre, Paris, Oil on canvas, 231 x 303 cm.

Sir Joshua Reynolds, Portrait of Edward Gibbon, 1779, Private Collection, oil on canvas, measurements not known.

Nathaniel Dance, James Grant, John Mytton, Thomas Robinson, and Thomas Wynn in front of the Colosseum in Rome, 1760, Yale Centre for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection, oil on canvas, 98.1 x 123.9 cm.

Pier Leone Ghezzi (1674-1755), Caricature of an English Dilettante with a Book on Ancient Rome, 1740s.

Modern Rome.

Those travellers not inclined to exploring Rome’s history through its ancient monuments were at liberty to turn their attention elsewhere. There was much to see: entertainments, the people, the palazzi with numerous art treasures, and of course the huge number of churches in the Eternal City including St Peter’s itself. Unlike Florence, attitudes towards the hygiene and customs of Rome seem to have been less favourable. This disapproval of Roman hygiene betrayed “another agenda” in which the British saw the Romans as neglecting their ancient culture and themselves as the new custodians of the city’s heritage. The British had acquired art and antiquities from the Roman nobility so they saw themselves in a position of cultural authority.[9] Accounts of visitors are peppered with complaints about the dirt and filth in Rome, which may also reflect a more enlightened view of such matters as public health by the European elite.[10] Hence we get Ann Flaxman’s disgust at the “dirty and slovenly habits” of the Romans, though her repugnance should be seen in the context of concerns about domestic habits rather than debates on public virtue in Rome.[11] That was left to visitors like Charlotte Eaton who declared that if the popes had built more baths and fewer churches, the bodies of their subjects would be cleaner, and their souls much better.[12] In any case the multitudinous churches in Rome were hardly seen as places of worship but as repositories of art, and as “theatres” for the display of art, sculpture and architecture with religion merely an aspect of Roman customs and manners. Thus Anne Miller who we last saw in the Pitti in Florence, exhorted her mother to banish all thoughts of “priestcraft” and simply regard the churches in Rome “as collections of painting and sculpture.”[13] We shall take Lady Miller’s advice as we navigate through the art of Rome next week. 

Giovanni Paolo Panini, Picture Gallery with Views of Modern Rome, 1757, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Oil on canvas, 170 x 245 cm.

Viviano Codazzi, St Peter's, Rome, c. 1630, Museo del Prado, Madrid, Oil on canvas, 168 x 220 cm.

Charles Grignion, Piazza del Popolo, la Coltellata (“A Tragedy”), 1790, British Museum, London, pen, ink and wash, 33 x 42.6 cms.

Hubert Robert, Pilgrims in St Peter’s, in front of the Statue of St Peter, 1763, Albertina, Vienna, pen and black ink and watercolour, 36.8 x 50 cms.

Slides.

1)       Giovanni Paolo Panini, View of Rome from Mt. Mario, in the Southeast, 1749, Oil on canvas, 102 x 168 cm, Staatliche Museen, Berlin.

2)       Caspar Andrians van Wittel (“Vanvitelli”), St Peter's in Rome, c. 1711, Oil on canvas, 57 x 11 cm, Private collection.

3)       Richard Wilson, Rome: St Peter’s and the Vatican from the Janiculum, 1753-4, Tate Gallery, London, oil on canvas, 100.3 x 139 cms.

4)       Claude Lorrain, Caprice with Ruins of the Roman Forum, c. 1634, Adelaide, Art Gallery of South Australia, oil on canvas, measurements not known.

5)       Att to John Frearson, Rome seen on a Grand Tour, probably 1790s, David Ker Fine Art, London, oil on canvas, measurements not known.

6)       Giovanni Paolo Panini, Picture Gallery with Views of Modern Rome, 1757, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Oil on canvas, 170 x 245 cm.

7)       Viviano Codazzi, St Peter's, Rome, c. 1630, Museo del Prado, Madrid, Oil on canvas, 168 x 220 cm.

8)       David Allan, The Arrival of a Young Traveller and his Suite during the Carnival in Piazza di Spagna, Rome, c. 1775, pen and brown wash over pencil, a substantial portion has been redrawn with darker ink, Royal Collection, 40 x 54 cm.

9)       David Allan, A Roman Coffee House, c. 1775, pen, ink and watercolour over black chalk, 29.5 26.2 cms, National Gallery of Scotland, Edinburgh.

10)   Caspar Andrians van Wittel (“Vanvitelli”), View of the Piazza del Popolo, Rome, . 1678, Etching.

11)   Joseph Wright of Derby, Firework Display at Castel Sant’ Angelo, 1774-78, Birmingham Art Gallery,  Oil on canvas, 42.5 x 70.5 cm.

12)   Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720-78), Piazza del Popolo, before 1751, etching, Royal Institute of British Architects.

13)   Charles Grignion, Piazza del Popolo, la Coltellata (“A Tragedy”), 1790, British Museum, London, pen, ink and wash, 33 x 42.6 cms.

14)   Pompeo Batoni, Self-Portrait, 1773-74, Uffizi, Florence, oil on canvas, measurements not known.

15)   Pompeo Batoni, The Ecstasy of St Catherine of Siena, 1743, Museo di Villa Guinigi, Lucca, oil on canvas.

16)   James Northcote, Self-Portrait, Plymouth Art Gallery, oil on canvas, 75.7 x 62.8 cm.

17)   Pompeo Batoni, (1741-1820), Richard Milles, c. 1758, National Gallery, London, c. 1758, 136.5 x 99.1 cm.

18)   Pompeo Batoni, Thomas Dundas, later 1^st Baron Dundas, 1763-64, Aske Hall, North Yorkshire, oil on canvas, 298 x 196.8 cms.

19)   Hubert Robert, Draughtsman Copying Domenichino’s Flagellation of St Andrew, in San Gregorio al Celio, Rome, 1763, Pierpont Morgan Library, New York, red chalk, 32.9 x 44.8 cm.

20)   Domenichino, The Flagellation of St Andrew, 1609, San Gregorio Magno, Rome, fresco.

21)   Henry Fuseli, Artist Moved by the Grandeur of Ancient Ruins, 1778-80, red chalk and sepia wash, 42 x 35.2 cms.

22)   Hubert Robert, Painters, 1790s, The Hermitage, St. Petersburg, oil on canvas, 24 x 32 cm.

23)   Giovanni Paolo Panini, Gallery of Views of Ancient Rome, 1758, Musée du Louvre, Paris, Oil on canvas, 231 x 303 cm.

24)   Sir Joshua Reynolds, Portrait of Edward Gibbon, 1779, Private Collection, oil on canvas, measurements not known.

25)   Nathaniel Dance, James Grant, John Mytton, Thomas Robinson, and Thomas Wynn in front of the Colosseum in Rome, 1760, Yale Centre for British Art, Paul Mellon Collection, oil on canvas, 98.1 x 123.9 cm.

26)   Pier Leone Ghezzi (1674-1755), Caricature of an English Dilettante with a Book on Ancient Rome, 1740s.

27)   Andrea Casali, Charles Frederick the Antiquarian, Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, Oil on canvas, 134 x 97 cm.

28)   Jean- Honoré Fragonard, The Temple of the Sibyl, Tivoli, 1760, Museé des Beaux-Arts et Archéologie, Besançon, red chalk over light underdrawing in black chalk, 48.7 x 36 mm.

29)   Att to Bernardo Bellotto, Ruins and Figures, 1750-75, Outskirts of Rome near the Tomb of Cecilia Metulla, Shipley Art Gallery, Oil on canvas, 71.2 x 92.2 cm.

30)   John Robert Cozens (1752-1797), The Colosseum from the North, 1780, pencil and watercolour, 36.1 52.8 cms.

31)   The Colosseum, Rome.

 

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[1] Jeremey Black, Italy and the Grand Tour, Yale, 2003, 47.

[2] Charles Abbot (1788) quoted in Black, 46.

[3] F set off for Italy with the painter William Theed in 1790, but travelled alone when Theed was recalled to England.  F stayed mainly in Rome.

[4] Matthew Crask, Art in Europe 1700-1830, 1997, Oxford History of Art.

[5] Edgar Peters Brown and Peter Bjorn Kerber, Pompeo Batoni: Prince of Painters in Eighteenth- Century Rome, exh. cat, Houston and London, Yale, 2008.

[6] Richard Wrigley, “Infectious Enthusiasms: Influence, Contagion, and the Experience of Rome “in Transports: Travel, Pleasure and Imaginative Geography, 1600-1830, ed Chloe Chard and Helen Langdon, (Yale, 1995), 75-117.

[7] Wrigley, “Infectious Enthusiasms”, 77.

[8] ”It was at Rome, on the fifteenth of October 1764,as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the bare-footed were singing Vespers in the temple of Jupiter that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the City first started to my mind.” Gibbon, quoted in Black, 49.

[9] Rosemary Sweet, Cities on the Grand Tour, 146.

[10] Sweet, Cities, 141.

[11] Sweet, Cities, 142.

[12] Eaton, quoted in Sweet, Cities, 143.

[13] Sweet, Cities, 149.