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Masaccio, Painted by Himself, Lately Added to the National Gallery |
December 21 in 1401, in a town close to Florence, Italy. The artist died aged 26, which could account for lack of more colourful information than the mostly fact-based and rather stodgy stuff I found at first. Then I found this lighter, yet still informative piece from The Guardian a decade ago, in 2008.
Masaccio, the old master who died young
A star of Renaissance Florence, Masaccio's artistic legacy helped shape western art. Thankfully, he avoided today's morbid personality cults.
by Simon Goddard.
A few snips ~
As the piece begins, the author is referencing the then (2008) flurry of stuff in the media remembering the untimely death of Kurt Cobain
If the world of art was stricken by the same incurable, anniversary-fixated old rope disease as the UK music press then, round about now, there'd be brainstorming editorial meetings on how best to commemorate the imminent 580th anniversary [ in 2008] of the untimely death of Masaccio - Renaissance Italy's hippest young gunslinger who more or less invented painting as we know it. Cue "The 20 Best Masaccio works ... as voted by the stars!", "580 Reasons We Love Masaccio" and the obligatory "What Masaccio Means to Me", wherein vacant twentysomething goons line up to pay tribute to one of the founding fathers of western art by mumbling hollow plaudits about him being "a proper geezer and all that".
Saints be praised, this isn't the case. But even if an art history equivalent of magazines such as Mojo or Uncut existed (Fresco? Unchiselled?) they'd be hard pushed to do a Kurt Cobain number on Masaccio. For while enough major works have survived to earn him a rightful place in the pantheon of Renaissance masters, his biography is the palest of sketches. We know, or rather we think we know, that he was born near Florence on December 21, 1401 and that he died, aged 26, in Rome some time in the latter half of 1428 (we don't even have an exact date). And that's it. History has failed to record whether Masaccio's fate was murder, bubonic plague or perhaps even suicide. All we have are the concrete facts that: a) just like Brian Jones, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Cobain, Masaccio never lived to blow out the candles on his 28th birthday cake (nor his 27th for that matter), and b) he was a total genius.
The vague accounts of his life that exist tell us he was born Tommaso (Thomas) Cassai and grew to be the archetypal teenage weirdo - socially inept, moody, withdrawn and so preoccupied with drawing that his bedraggled appearance became local legend. Accordingly, he earned the affectionate nickname Masaccio - the 15th century Tuscan equivalent of "scruffy git" (or more literally "silly Thomas"). By 19, he was deemed great enough to be admitted into the Florentine painters' guild and befriended both the sculptor Donatello and the architect Brunelleschi. What those men had already revolutionised in their respective fields, Masaccio would soon revolutionise in painting.
In rock'n'roll terms, his bequest to art was the equivalent of Elvis Presley's Sun recordings, a year zero foundation stone for future generations to develop and perfect. Masaccio was the first to fully master depth and perspective on a two-dimensional surface. Before his arrival, paintings were flat, ornamental images beholden to staid Gothic tradition. After him, they became windows on walls, peering into another universe of similar spatial dimensions to our own. Significantly, his frescoes were a vital influence on Michelangelo. The latter's close friend, the great Florentine biographer Vasari, was still swooning over Masaccio's legacy 140 years after his inexplicable death. "Everything done before him can be described as artificial," frothed Vasari, "whereas he produced work that is living, realistic and natural."
It seems the greatest tribute to Masaccio is that, ultimately, he needs no "Who killed Kurt?" coffin-raiding industry to sustain his legend. His death is forever a puzzle but his achievements have resonated for centuries beyond the grave.
Saints be praised, this isn't the case. But even if an art history equivalent of magazines such as Mojo or Uncut existed (Fresco? Unchiselled?) they'd be hard pushed to do a Kurt Cobain number on Masaccio. For while enough major works have survived to earn him a rightful place in the pantheon of Renaissance masters, his biography is the palest of sketches. We know, or rather we think we know, that he was born near Florence on December 21, 1401 and that he died, aged 26, in Rome some time in the latter half of 1428 (we don't even have an exact date). And that's it. History has failed to record whether Masaccio's fate was murder, bubonic plague or perhaps even suicide. All we have are the concrete facts that: a) just like Brian Jones, Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Cobain, Masaccio never lived to blow out the candles on his 28th birthday cake (nor his 27th for that matter), and b) he was a total genius.
The vague accounts of his life that exist tell us he was born Tommaso (Thomas) Cassai and grew to be the archetypal teenage weirdo - socially inept, moody, withdrawn and so preoccupied with drawing that his bedraggled appearance became local legend. Accordingly, he earned the affectionate nickname Masaccio - the 15th century Tuscan equivalent of "scruffy git" (or more literally "silly Thomas"). By 19, he was deemed great enough to be admitted into the Florentine painters' guild and befriended both the sculptor Donatello and the architect Brunelleschi. What those men had already revolutionised in their respective fields, Masaccio would soon revolutionise in painting.
In rock'n'roll terms, his bequest to art was the equivalent of Elvis Presley's Sun recordings, a year zero foundation stone for future generations to develop and perfect. Masaccio was the first to fully master depth and perspective on a two-dimensional surface. Before his arrival, paintings were flat, ornamental images beholden to staid Gothic tradition. After him, they became windows on walls, peering into another universe of similar spatial dimensions to our own. Significantly, his frescoes were a vital influence on Michelangelo. The latter's close friend, the great Florentine biographer Vasari, was still swooning over Masaccio's legacy 140 years after his inexplicable death. "Everything done before him can be described as artificial," frothed Vasari, "whereas he produced work that is living, realistic and natural."
It seems the greatest tribute to Masaccio is that, ultimately, he needs no "Who killed Kurt?" coffin-raiding industry to sustain his legend. His death is forever a puzzle but his achievements have resonated for centuries beyond the grave.
A couple of Masaccio's paintings - one appropriate to the current season:
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| Madonna & Child with St. Anne c.1424. |
The Madonna and Child with St. Anne, also known as Sant'Anna Metterza, is a painting by the Italian Renaissance painter Masaccio, probably in collaboration with Masolino da Panicale. The painting is in the Galleria degli Uffizi in Florence, Italy, and measures 175 centimetres high and 103 centimetres wide. (Wikipedia)
Tribute Money shown above is a classic example of the expert realism captured in Masaccio's work. Click on the image to bring up a larger, clearer version.
For any passing reader curious about the astrology of this artist, there's a natal chart at astro.com.
The colours are captivating. Thanks for the introduction. And the mysterious death is a puzzle indeed.
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Wisewebwoman ~ My pleasure! Yes, it really is odd that so little is known on why he died so young.
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