This essay explores the role that the eighteenth-century Uffizi gallery played in the invention of the Renaissance. Under the Habsburg-Lorraine rulers, and especially during the reign of Grand Duke Peter Leopold (r. 1765–90), changes to the Medici collections and the gallery’s organization transformed an early modern cabinet of curiosities, paintings, and antiquities into a space in which a historical narrative of art, inspired by rereadings of Giorgio Vasari’s Lives, became visible in a building he designed. A succession of Uffizi personnel was increasingly preoccupied with how to see renaissance, and more specifically Tuscan rinascita, in the collections. The struggles between the director Giuseppe Pelli Bencivenni and his vice-director Luigi Lanzi highlight how different understandings of the Renaissance emerged in dialogue with antiquarianism and medievalism. At the end of the eighteenth century the Uffizi would definitively become a museum of the Renaissance to inspire new forms of historical writing in the age of Michelet and Burckhardt.

In his portrait of an unidentified man (Vienna, 1529), Barthel Beham portrays the sitter paused in the midst of a math problem. As has been discovered, the numbers and symbols belong to the vocabulary of numerical calculation. This finding first raises the question of why a patron would want to be shown doing computation with Arabic numerals in a portrait. In 1529, numerical calculation was a commercial tool, not a field with humanistic/social cachet such as geometry. Further, the depicted computation does not make sense: the symbols and numbers are arranged in the form of a problem without actually being one. Yet the patron either did not notice or care. This article argues that the incomplete computation is not only a reflection of the contemporary status of mathematics using Arabic numbers, but also provides a way of understanding how the painting functioned as a portrait in the social milieu of the sixteenth-century Munich court.

Long neglected and misunderstood, Michelangelo’s Noli me tangere (ca. 1531–32) features a puzzling figuration of its biblical subject, wherein Christ, rather than withdrawing from Mary Magdalene, touches her left breast with his finger. Following Augustine’s interpretation that Christ at this moment sows the seed of faith in the Magdalene’s heart, this article explains this unprecedented motif as a dissemblant sign for the implantation of faith in the soul, while arguing, on account of the gesture’s resonance with issues of spiritual and sensual touching, that the painting makes an original theoretical statement about the making and viewing of devotional images more generally.

Scholarship on Italian women’s secular writing of the sixteenth century has illuminated the remarkable success female authors enjoyed in print, as well as the complex and ambivalent responses they evoked as a group. This article argues that the more shadowy praxis of ordinary female letter-writing, an obligation for most elite wives and widows, required a baseline level of literacy that enabled more eminent literary women to flourish in print. The essay studies the unpublished letters of the Roman noblewoman Costanza Colonna, the Marchesa of Caravaggio (ca. 1556–1626), to demonstrate her development as a self-taught, competent writer, familiar with the terms of Renaissance debates on the epistolary genre. Colonna exemplifies the hidden world of female literacy that helps explain both the extraordinary flourishing of women’s publishing in sixteenth-century Italy, and the hostility it encountered from some elements of society.