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Published online by Cambridge University Press: 20 November 2018
The identity of the bicephalic servant holding the water utensils in the Judgment of Pilate (Fig. i) on Donatello's Gospel ambo in San Lorenzo has been a puzzling problem. Early writers did not identify the figure. Recently, H. W. Janson and Irving Lavin postulated that the strange bearer in this unique composition was merely an attribute of Pilate's, created to explicate the governor's character. Janson believes that the double face derives from Janus, or ‘rather, the personification of January’ carrying a jug, as portrayed in Romanesque calendar art. According to this theory, Donatello discarded or did not understand the meaning attached to a bicephalic January, and used the figure to show Pilate ‘torn between the pleas of his wife and the demands of expediency.' Lavin, who is in general agreement with this theory, carefully studied the literature on Pontius Pilate to support it. He divided the literary tradition into three parts—that which was favorable to the governor, against him, or merely neutral. Lavin concluded that Donatello's relief reflects an unfavorable view of Pilate, whom he sees as a man of ‘two minds,’ someone ‘akin to our idea of a hypocrite.'
* A portion of this study was subsidized by a Grant-in-Aid and a Faculty Fellowship, awarded by the Research Foundation of the State University of New York, whom I wish to thank. The staffs of several libraries have been especially helpful. Particular thanks are due to Sigra. Maria Bendini of the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana, Firenze; Mrs. E. H. Frankfort of the Warburg Institute of the University of London; and Miss Mary Jane Benton, formerly of the library, State University College, New Paltz.
1 There are two oblong ambones, one on each side of the nave, at its head. The church is not wested. Thus the so-called North ambo is actually towards the south, while the other one is on the actual north. To avoid confusion, I will refer to the so-called North ambo as the Gospel ambo, following current usage in liturgical terminology and practice. In his critical catalogue, Janson, H. W., The Sculpture of Donatello (Princeton, 1957), n, 209–218 Google Scholar, anticipated Irving Lavin's unpublished study (1959) based on the latter's Master's Thesis, The Sources of Donatello's Bronze Pulpits in San Lorenzo (New York University, October, 1951; henceforth Thesis). See Lavin's ‘The Sources of Donatello's Pulpits in San Lorenzo,’ The Art Bulletin, XLI (1959), 19-38. The older literature is mainly Hans Kauffmann, Donatello (Berlin, 1935), esp. p. 233; Max, Semrau, Donatellos, Kanzelnin Lorenzo, S., ’Italienische Forschungen …, ed. August Schmarsow, n (Breslau, 1891), p. 120 Google Scholar; Hans, Semper, Donatellos Leben und Werke (Innsbruck, 1887), p. 120 Google Scholar. The early sources are cited in Janson, pp. 209-211, wherein the ambones are dated ca. 1460-70. It is presumed that they were commissioned by Cosimo de Medici, as stated in Vespasiano da, Bisticci, The Vespasiano Memoirs, Lives of Illustrious Men of the XV Century (New York, 1963), p. 224 Google Scholar. According to Francesco, Albertini, Memoriale di molte statue… di Florentia … (Florence, 1510, cited from the reprint, London, 1909), p . 11 Google Scholar, the ‘pulpits’ were made for the reading of the Gospels and Epistles. More recently, John, Pope-Hennessy, Italian Renaissance Sculpture (New York, 1958), pp. 24–25 Google Scholar, 286-289, stated that ‘the iconographical sources of the pulpit reliefs have not been fully investigated, and some confusion has been caused by (this) … unfounded assumption’ by Janson and earlier students. Pope-Hennessy believes that Donatello's program parallels certain features of scenes painted by Castagno at S. Apollonia ca. 1450, and that both cycles may ‘owe their origin to a common current of religious thought.’ The most recent comments are in Seymour, Charles Jr., Sculpture in Italy 1400-1500 (Baltimore, 1966), pp. 145–146 Google Scholar, who notes that Donatello's program portrays events of the Passion leading to the climax of the Crucifixion and the Deposition on the Gospel ambo, and the events after the Deposition on the Epistle ambo. Seymour believes that the program called for a revival of the early medieval scheme of two ambones to be placed at either side of the head of the nave, from which ‘were to be intoned at their proper moments in the liturgy the passages from the Gospels and the Epistles.’ He emphasizes that this particular reversion to a ‘medieval precedent’ is unique in Florentine Quattrocento sculpture. The reader is referred to the excellent photographs of the ambones in Janson. See especially pis. 388, 389.
2 Janson, p. 218, believes Donatello was ‘unfamiliar’ with the calendar tradition, and therefore the implements held by January merely suggested the water pitcher and basin brought ‘for the symbolic washing of hands.'Janson continues, ‘By a bold stroke of the imagination, [Donatello] seized upon the element of Janus-headedness as well, and endowed it with entirely new meaning. This procedure involved here can only be described as “iconography in a new key,” no longer bound by the rules we are wont to acknowledge for medieval art.'Janson concedes that there are many unsolved problems concerning Donatello's ‘non-Euclidean’ way of coining new images. In his critical catalog, Janson, pp. 214 ff., refers to Lavin's then unpublished study, which he generously summarized. However, though Janson subscribes to Lavin's theories, his own ideas are somewhat more psychological in nature. Written several years after his Thesis, Lavin's article leaves aside his somewhat extreme earlier position on Pilate though he cites the sarcophagus with a two-faced Judas mentioned in his Thesis, p. 99, fig. 119, to prove the evil nature of Donatello's bifrons servant. See also Bulletin, p. 36, where Judas is cited as unquestionably evil though Donatello's Pilate is termed a vacillating person, reflecting the sculptor's acceptance of the early ‘independent form of duplicity,’ while rejecting the ‘corresponding evaluation in ethical terms.'
3 Lavin, Bulletin, pp. 34-3 5, cites a portion of the Epistle of James to support his theory: ‘Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. Cleanse your hands, ye sinners; and purify your hearts, ye double-minded’ (James 4:8). However, this is cited out of context. The Epistle continues: ‘Be afflicted, and mourn, and weep: let your laughter be turned to mourning, and your joy to heaviness. Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up.’ See the Old Testament prophecy concerning Pilate's act in Deuteronomy 21:6-7: ‘And all the elders of that city, that are next unto the slain man, shall wash their hands over the heifer that is beheaded in the valley: And they shall answer and say, Our hands have not shed his blood, neither have our eyes seen it.’ Regarding Pilate's ‘double-mindedness,’ see Bulletin, p. 37.
4 It is Lavin's opinion, Bulletin, pp. 33, 35, 37, that Pilate is portrayed in a manner that shows the early Renaissance ‘newly won freedom of choice.’ This, Lavin believes, reflects the ‘decidedly ambiguous position of the age.’ He states further that Donatello has intimated a ‘characteristically modern dilemma, namely the possibility and the responsibility of choice.’ The reader is referred to P. O. Kristeller, ‘The Moral Thought of Renaissance Humanism,’ Chapter 11 in Renaissance Thought II, Papers on Humanism and the Arts (New York, 1965), pp. 57-60, in which it is assumed that only the ‘Christian Middle Ages’ thought of Portuna as an instrument of God, whereas Renaissance men believed in a ‘blind and arbitrary power [that] would bring them success,’ or in the ‘power of an inexorable fate.’ The latter is held to be an ancient Stoic view ‘revived in more or less modified form by Pomponazzi’ (1462-1525). Pomponazzi's views are termed an ‘intricate defense of predestination'; however, Kristeller holds that ‘most Renaissance thinkers did not stop with the assertion of these human powers, but tried in some way to uphold and defend the power of man over his own destiny, in the face of fortune and fate.’ ‘The attempt itself is “significant,” ‘ he adds, ‘even where it seems to be inconsistent or unsuccessful.’ The theory proposed in the present study runs counter to both Lavin's and Kristeller's. The literature critical of Pilate is cited in Lavin, Bulletin, p. 35 and n. 108, and Thesis, pp. 90-96, nn. 191-207. On the mystery plays, see Arnold, Williams, The Characterization of Pilate in The Towneley Plays (Michigan State, 1950)Google Scholar. This valuable study also cites the literature favorable to Pilate, pp. 2 ff., 293 ff.
5 This study is introductory to a larger one to be concerned with the program of both ambones.
6 Lavin, Bulletin, p. 34, nn. 102, 103, 121, cites Judas, Boreas, Prudence, Hell, Fraude, Tradimento, and an exotic ‘monstrosity,’ not Tempus or Fortuna. The first representation of Prudence bifrons is Giotto's. (See my study on the Virtues and Vices in the Arena Chapel [Ann Arbor, 1966].) The most well-known one is, perhaps, Raphael's (Stanza della Segnatura, Vatican, Rome). For Tempus bifrons, see the title page of Jacob, Cats, Spiegel von den Ouden ende Nieuven Tijt (Amsterdam, 1635)Google Scholar, Samuel C., Chew, The Pilgrimage of Life (New Haven, 1962)Google Scholar, fig. 29. To these representations may be added the bifrons Old and New Dispensation in Simone Martini's Maesta.
7 St. Augustine, City of God, rv:i8-i9; v:8. Illustrations of Fortuna bifrons continue into the fifteenth century. See Laborde, A., Les manuscrits a peintures de la Cite de Dieu (Paris, 1909), m, pis. 59 Google Scholar, 65. The basic studies on the tradition concerning Fortuna are Howard R., Patch, ‘The Tradition of the Goddess Fortuna in Medieval Philosophy and Literature,’ Smith College Studies in Modern Languages, m, 14 (July 1922)Google Scholar; ‘The Tradition of the Goddess Fortuna in Roman Literature and in the Transitional Period,’ Smith College Studies …, m, 3 (April 1922); The Goddess Fortuna in Medieval Literature (Cambridge, 1927). See also The Tradition of Boethius (New York, 1935), esp. pp. 41-43. In Roman literature, Ovid's description is typical (Exponto, iv, Ep. m); Fortuna ‘is a goddess who admits by her unsteady wheel her own fickleness; she always has its crest beneath her swaying foot.'
8 Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy, n, i, 33; v, i, 55 ff. One example of an illumination showing Fortuna bifrons is dated in the fifteenth century, Paris, Bibl. Nat. Fr. 809, fol. 40, published in Patch, The Goddess Fortuna in Medieval Literature, pi. 1.
9 Inferno, vrr, 67-96.
10 See Chew, pp. 36, 39; fig. 53.
11 In Ratisbon Ms. 1165, Munich, Bayer., Staatsbibliothek, Cod. lat. 13002, fol. 3V. Fortuna's banner is inscribed ‘Rota volubili giro versamus,’ a statement that derives from Boethius. The judging king is Cyrus and the prisoner is Croesus. The latter is the most popular example of one who suffers the vicissitudes of Fortune. On this manuscript, see Katzenellenbogen, A., Allegories of the Virtues and Vices in Medieval Art (New York, 1964), p. 57 Google Scholar, fig. 54; Boeckler, A., Die Regensburg-Pruefeninger Buchmalerei des xii und xiii Jahrhunderts (Muenchen, 1924), p. 25 Google Scholar, who states that no corresponding representation of Fortuna may be found in manuscript illumination. On the archway, gate, and baldachin as symbols of imperial judgment and Rome, see Baldwin Smith, E., Architectural Symbolism of Imperial Rome and the Middle Ages (Princeton, 1956), pp. 3 ff.Google Scholar
12 Matthew 27:11.
13 Dante, De Monorchia, II, 12, states that Pilate was the representative of Tiberius Caesar, whereas Herod, who ‘did not represent Tiberius in the exercise either of the Imperial or senatorial power,’ lacked the authority to pass final judgment on Christ. Dante's text is based on Luke 23:11.
14 On the Gospel ambo, the relief facing the congregation is divided into two parts. The Judgment of Pilate is at the viewer's left. The right half was identified as the Judgment of Caiphas as early as 1591 by Francesco, Bocchi, Le belkzze della citta di Fiorenza (Firenze, 1591), pp. 250 fF.Google Scholar, cited in Janson, pp. 210-211. However, it may be noted that the judge shown here does not tear his garment as Caiphas does in Giotto's Arena Chapel fresco or in Duccio's Maesta panel. The circumstances recounted in Luke 23:8-12 state: ‘And Herod with his men of war set him at nought, and mocked him … and sent him again to Pilate.’ That Caiphas tore his clothes is cited in Matthew 26:65; Mark 14:63. The only Gospel account of the judgment before Herod is Luke's. Significantly, the Gospel of St. Luke stresses the innocence of Christ more than the others. Especially noteworthy are the reiterations of Pilate regarding this (Luke 23:4-22). The Centurion attests Christ's righteousness in the same chapter (Luke23:47), as well as in Mark 15:39. The Divinity of Christ is recognized by the Centurion in Matthew 27:54 and John 19:35. J. L. Price, quoting The Mishnah, notes that the examination before the High Priest is unusual in that it does not conform to the judicial procedures set forth in the rabbinical tractate Sanhedrin, Interpreting the New Testament (New York, 1965), pp. 218-222, 298.
15 Poggiana, ou la vie, le caractere, les sentences, et les bons mots de Pogge Florentin (Amsterdam, 1720), 1, 193-194, from a Discourse addressed to Pandolfo Malatesta on the misery of the human condition.
16 Tutte le Opere … Scritti Spirituali (Milano, 1958), m, 79 ff. The portion cited is addressed to the Emperor Constantine, p. 104. Lorenzo translated Boethius’ Consolation of Philosophy into Italian.
17 On the Apocryphal literature, see M. R., James, The Apocryphal New Testament (Oxford, 1924), pp. 94 ff.Google Scholar; and more recently, Williams, cit. note no. 4. The latter notes, p. 3, that Vincent of Beauvais included a copy of Pilate's Letter to Herod in his Speculum historiale, vm, cxxii. According to Lightfoot, J. B., Excluded Books of the New Testament (London, n.d.), pp. 111–117 Google Scholar, the second-century Apocryphal Gospel of Peter ‘already relieves’ Pilate of all responsibility. Jameson, Mrs., The History of Our Lord (London, 1865), n, 66–67 Google Scholar, noted Pilate's troubled look on the Early Christian sarcophagi.
18 Davis, C. T., Dante & The Idea of Rome (Oxford, 1957), pp. 60–61.Google Scholar
19 Vespasiano, pp. 221-222; Bandinius, A. M., Catalogus Codicum Italicorum Bibliothecae Mediceae Laurentianae (Firenze, 1778)Google Scholar. Enea, Piccolomini, Intorno alle Condizioni ed all Vicende della Libreria Medicea Privata (Firenze, 1875).Google Scholar
19 Vespasiano, pp. 221-222; Bandinius, A. M., Catalogus Codicum Italicorum Bibliothecae Mediceae Laurentianae (Firenze, 1778)Google Scholar. Enea, Piccolomini, Intorno alle Condizioni ed all Vicende della Libreria Medicea Privata (Firenze, 1875).Google Scholar
20 Laurentiana, Plut. 90, sup. 55.
21 On this in general, see Panofsky, E., Tomb Sculpture (New York, 1964), pp. 39 Google Scholar ff., esp. p. 43.
22 The interest in patristic literature was noted in Janson, pp. 213-214. See also Lavin, Bulletin, p. 24, n. 31, who cites the possible influence of the neo-patristic movement on Ghiberti as well. Also included is the then current bibliography. See now, Kristeller, P. O., Renaissance Thought, the Classic, Scholastic and Humanistic Strains (New York, 1961)Google Scholar, esp. chapters 4 and 5; Renaissance Thought II, Papers on Humanism and the Arts (New York, 1965), pp. 20 ff. It may be noted that Ficino wrote a treatise, De Christiana religione, after he completed his Theologia Platonica in 1474. On this see Gilmore, M. P., The World of Humanism 1453-1517 (New York, 1952), pp. 191–192.Google Scholar
23 Matthew 27:54; Mark 15:39; Luke 23:47. Most frequently, Longinus is portrayed pointing—as one sees him in the Basel Crucifixion by Gruenewald. However, an awestricken attitude was depicted by Bernini in a sculpture for St. Peter's, Rome. That Christ's Crucifixion was necessary to win victory over death is an Early Christian concept stated by Tertullian in ‘An Answer to the Jews,’ The Ante-Nicene Fathers (New York, 1925), p. 166. For photographs of Donatello's standing soldier, see Janson, pis. 389, 393.
24 Lateran no. 174, as recorded by Orazio, Marucchi, I Monumenti del Museo Cristiano Pio-Lateranenese (Milan, 1910), pp. 21 ff.Google Scholar See also Schoenbeck, H. U. V., Der Mailaender Sarkophag und seine Nachfolge (Vatican City, 1935), pp. 13 Google Scholar, 41. On the Junius Bassus Sarcophagus, see the interpretation in Panofsky, pp. 41-42.
25 See Lawrence, M., ‘Columnar Sarcophagi in the Latin West,’ Art Bulletin, xiv (1932), pp. 139 f.Google Scholar, and Panofsky, p. 43, who states that the Judgment of Pilate here is an ‘affirmation of kingship … in the guise of a humiliation inflicted on others.’ I am puzzled by Panofsky's suggestion that Christ is here shown as the ‘victim of the Passion rather than the … Thaumaturge,’ even while he notes that the ‘narrative stops short of actual martyrdom and is limited to scenes which represent, as it were, a triumph in disguise,’ i.e., the Crowning with Thorns in which the ‘instrument of torture resembles and suggests the symbol of victory.’ See also the Sarcophagus of the Two Brothers (Lateran no. 55), and Lateran no. 164. The latter shows the Judgment of Pilate flanking a symbolic Resurrection and opposite the Sacrifice of Abel. On this see also Wilpert, G., I Sarcofagi Cristiani Antichi (Roma, 1929)Google Scholar, 4 vols, pis. xiii, xxxiii, lxxxxi, cxxxvii, clxxxxv. On the theory of'parallelism of exemplary figures,’ see Curtius, E. R., European Literature & The Latin Middle Ages (New York, 1953), p. 363.Google Scholar
26 On this see Cornell, H., Biblia Pauperum (Stockholm, 1925)Google Scholar; Lutz, J. and Perdrizet, P., Speculum Humanae Salvationis (Muelhausen, 1907,1909), 2 vols.Google Scholar The possible relationship of some of Donatello's corner-figures to antitypes cited in these works will be explored in a later study.
27 London, Brit. Mus., App. 11, 15, B. M. Catalogue, ed. S. Colvin (London, 1910); Hind, A. M., Early Italian Engraving (London, 1938)Google Scholar, II, A-i-9, pi. 9. For a sulphur cast with a similar program, see Hind, A. M., Nielli, Chiefly Italian of the Fifteenth Century, Plates, Sulphur Casts and Prints Preserved in the British Museum (London, 1936), Cat. no. 142-50Google Scholar, pi. 20.
28 The Canon of the Mass reads: ‘Hoc est enim Corpus m e u m … . Hie est enim Calix Sanguinis mei, novi et aeterni testamenti: mysterium fidei: qui pro vobis et pro multis effundetur in remissionem peccatorum… . Unde et memores, Domine, nos servi tui, sed et plebs tua sancta, ejusdem Christi Filii tui Domini nostri tarn beatae passionis, nee non et ab inferis resurrectionis, sed et in coelos gloriosae ascensionis: offerimus praeclarae majestati tuae de tuis donis, ac datis, hostiam puram, hostiam sanctam, hostiam immaculatam, turn vitae aeternae, et Calicem salutis perpetuae.’ That the Last Supper is included because of the altar at San Lorenzo was noted by Lavin, Bulletin, p. 23, who believes that the altar both begins the cycle and supplies the ‘miraculous link’ between ‘the two pulpits.’ It is my opinion that the entire cycle begins at the altar with the Last Supper, proceeds to the ‘North’ ambo, then to the ‘South’ one, and then returns to the altar. In his Thesis, p. 84, Lavin indicated that Donatello's program derives from the Credo. Since there is no direct correlation between the subjects mentioned in theCredo and the cycle, this may be questioned. It seems reasonable to assume that Donatello's reliefs begin with the Agony in the Garden because this scene follows the Last Supper in the sequence of the Passion. Indeed, the Passion begins in the garden when Christ accepts the cup, indicating His acceptance of the ensuing events. It is true that Passion cycles sometimes begin with the Entry into Jerusalem—as we see in the Engraving, fig. 7. (One feels that a careful study of Passion cycles would yield information that would help solve this problem.) We note, however, that the Engraving also emphasizes the Eucharistic nature of the Passion; two angels in the Crucifixion catch the Blood. Directly above this, two panels show the Last Supper and the Agony in the Garden. The final scene of the Passion in the engraving corresponds to the one chosen by Donatello. It is the Pentecost. The three panels preceding this one are also in correspondence with Donatello's choice of subjects. The sequence reads: Christ in Limbo, The Resurrection, and Christ Appearing to the Apostles. This is a peculiarly western choice; if the cycle had been Byzantine, only the Christ in Limbo would have been portrayed; in Byzantine art, the Anastasis is synonymous with the Resurrection, and takes the place of the latter scene. In the west, cycles often omit the Anastasis altogether—except in Byzantine-influenced works such as those by Sienese artists like Sassetta (Fogg Museum). Programs directed towards the people, such as those on widely circulated engravings, also include both the Resurrection and the Anastasis—an emphasis on the Resurrection theme also seen in Donatello's ambones. It is important to note, however, that whereas in Sassetta's representation, Christ appears on the left, He is shown in the middle of a crowd in Donatello's Anastasis. Sassetta's composition follows Duccio's, the prototype for western representations (cf. Weigelt, C. H., Duccio [Leipzig, 1911], pp. 246 ff.Google Scholar). This shows Christ at the left of the composition, as though He has just entered Hell. The Byzantine formula, however, shows Him at the center of a crowd. The composition in the Engraving is a simplified version of the western type, wheras Donatello adapted a Byzantine one to his own purpose. One may conclude that Donatello's unusually complex program derives—at least in part—from Byzantium, not from Siena, as Lavin, Thesis, p. 64, suggested. On Byzantine iconography of the Anastasis, see Morey, C. R., East Christian Paintings in the Freer Collection (New York, 1914), p. 50 CrossRefGoogle Scholar; Margarete, Bauer, Die Ikonographie der Hoellenfahrt Christi von ihren Anfaengen bis zum xviJahrhundert (Goettingen, 1948), pp. 262 ff.Google Scholar (Dr. Diss., typescript); Lavin, Bulletin, pp. 29-30.
29 Morey, p. 45, notes that in the Greek Church the Easter lection is taken from the Fourth Gospel. The corresponding pictorial type for this was not the Risen Christ (termed The Resurrection in Western art), but the Anastasis. It is for this reason, he adds, that John the Baptist is included in representations of the Anastasis. According to the Gospel of Nicodemus, John the Baptist went first into Hell to announce the Coming of Christ, Who then burst in, breaking the gates, in order to raise Adam and certain others. See also James, pp. 117 ff. In Romanesque art, the promise of Resurrection is often spelled out in the form of Paschal Candles placed adjacent to a pulpit. Elaborately sculptured candlesticks are still seen at Salerno (1155-88); San Clemente, Rome (twelfth century); and Duomo St. Pietro, Sessa Aurunca (Napoli), a rectangular pulpit dated quite late, 1250-70. Each of these candlesticks is placed on the south side of the nave. Since there are two pulpits at both Salerno and San Clemente, one may conclude that the candlesticks are particularly related to the South (Epistle) Pulpit. We do not know whether a Paschal Candle was planned for San Lorenzo; however, the scenes placed on the Epistle ambo plainly emphasize the Resurrection. To this day, the ambones in San Lorenzo are used only for readings of the Lessons, not a sermon. During Holy Week no events before the Passion are included in the Lessons. See Lavin, Bulletin, p. 23. The shape of the ambones is discussed in Lavin, Bulletin, pp. 21-23; Thesis, pp. 50 ff., where it is concluded that Donatello's sources included Romanesque Pulpits, fourteenth-century tombs, and motifs from Roman sarcophagi. Early Christian sarcophagi seem to be a more likely source because, as noted, their iconography so often emphasizes the Resurrection. The matter of Donatello's sources requires additional investigation.