Steven Cody's beautifully illustrated work on Andrea del Sarto brings an original and refreshing point of view on the artist. It positions itself in the line of two foundational studies: John Shearman's Andrea del Sarto (1965) and Antonio Natali's Andrea del Sarto (1986). It implements our knowledge of Andrea's personality by focusing on the artist's endeavor as an altarpiece painter, and thus opening beyond art historical studies only, with a more interdisciplinary approach that intertwines theological, biblical, and literary studies, but also art theory and optical sciences. It also addresses the specific analysis of the context in which Andrea del Sarto's altarpieces were produced, with the reconstruction of an oral tradition relating to each commission. The book examines a selection of six altarpieces by the Florentine master: each of these pieces constitutes an independent case study but is skillfully woven into a framework that brings in theological writings, especially Saint Augustine's, and the spiritual life of the first half of sixteenth-century Florence. Cody's book aims to shed light on the painter's artistic growth but also reveals a new facet of his spiritual life. Cody's understanding of Andrea del Sarto avoids primarily trying to answer questions pertaining to style but deals with these questions only “obliquely” (15).
Chapter 1 is devoted to the discussion of the altarpiece painted for the chapel of the Florentine silk merchant Leonardo Morelli in the Augustine church of San Gallo (now destroyed) in 1510. The Noli Me Tangere displays monumental yet quiet Raphaelesque figures. Cody analyzes the painting through a reading of Saint Augustine's writings, especially the Tractates on the Gospel of Saint John, and points to the importance of the senses in Andrea's version of the theme, its most striking visual element being the delicate circle of hands in its center that search but not touch, creating a space—“a pregnant void” (38)—that makes faith manifest.
Chapter 2 investigates del Sarto's San Gallo Annunciation (1512), made just a few years after the Noli Me Tangere, and placed in dialogue with the earlier painting. The Annunciation was made for Taddeo di Dante da Castiglione, a member of the Arte della Lana, but also for the Augustinian friars. The analysis weaves in Augustine's thoughts on the incarnation of Christ, while we notice, again, the importance of gestures with the space between the figures, filled this time with an arch and a ruin, metaphors of the old and the new law.
Chapter 3 deals with one of the most famous paintings of Andrea's oeuvre, the Madonna of the Harpies. Here, Cody investigates how the artist develops as a colorist, with Leonardo's writings about color and chiaroscuro in mind. Leonardo's use of the word splendore to describe color as the eye perceives it when exposed to intense light fits particularly well with Andrea's pictorial development of the moment. Interestingly, Andrea may have known Leonardo's theories on color and chiaroscuro through the public recitation of his notebooks.
Chapter 4 is about the Disputation of the Trinity (1517). It is the third and final panel for San Gallo's church, in a chapel belonging to the Pieri family, and dedicated to Augustine. Cody's discussion centers on the commission of the altarpiece as a collaborative process between artist, patron, and theological advisors among the friars of the Augustinian convent, who translated visually some of Augustine (particularly the De Trinitate).
Chapter 5 explores the Luco Pietà (1524), an altarpiece of contemplative mood in the vein of Michelangelo's sculpted version, that brings us further into Andrea's spiritual journey. It was commissioned for the nunnery of San Pietro at Luco, by abbess Caterina di Tedaldo della Casa. A valuable discussion emerges in this chapter: that of individuating possible portraits among the saintly figures mourning Christ, thus confirming Andrea's preference for making studies from life. The Virgin Mary has traditionally been understood as inspired from the likeness of Lucrezia del Fede, Andrea's beloved wife. Cody pushes further the suggestion, especially through physiognomic comparisons, that Saint Catherine could bear resemblance to Maria Berrettaio, Andrea's stepdaughter, while the Magdalene could be identified with his sister-in-law, Maria de Fede. Unfortunately, there is a lack of evidence to prove it, although the intuition is convincing.
The final chapter examines the Gambassi altarpiece and its engagement with spiritual renewal; it was commissioned in 1527 for the Benedictine church of Santi Lorenzo e Onofrio, to protect Florentine citizens from the Plague. The atmospheric dark cloud that characterizes the work marks another change in del Sarto's style, moving more definitively toward naturalism, and is, Cody argues, “inspired” instead of a “work of crisis” (246), as it was generally understood. Worthy of notice are Cody's artful descriptions of Andrea del Sarto's works: these reveal a keen eye, sensitive to the most minute variation of color.