“Giotto’s genius blooms afresh in Padua”

I would love to share a wonderful article by the historian Robin Lane Fox.

In “Giotto’s genius blooms afresh in Padua” (The Financial Times), he writes about “Joachim’s Dream” by Giotto di Bondone:

Restoration of the biblical frescoes in the Scrovegni chapel reveals the Italian painter to be not just the maestro of human gesture and form but a brilliant botanical artist as well.

Giotto was born in Tuscany. He was active from the 1290s until his death in 1337, not only as a painter but as an architect too, designer of the base of Florence’s multicoloured bell tower beside its cathedral. Modern critics like to decentre famous names and discover neglected talent among their contemporaries. Giotto was a genius, so much so that they tend to skirt around him. I have just checked what Kenneth Clark had to say about him in his wonderful BBC series, Civilisation, first broadcast in 1969. In episode three, Giotto, he declared, “ is one of the supreme painters of the world”.

Wearing a neatly pressed suit with a folded handkerchief in his top pocket, Clark spoke in the Arena chapel in Padua. In early October I stood there too, handkerchief-free in sagging trousers. Clark dwelt on some of the paintings that most captivated me, but said nothing about the items I have learnt to value. He presented Giotto as a master of human gesture, form and painted drama. Indeed he was, but Clark did not say that he was also a master artist of plants.

‘Joachim’s Dream’ Giotto painted borage, chives and a spiny thistle.

I had previously thought of Giotto’s landscapes as bare and rocky, unlike his lively human figures. His Nativity scene shows Mary lying on her side under a wooden roof and engaging with her baby Jesus, but the setting is a barren hillscape in which angels are bringing shepherds the glad news. However, in his Resurrected Christ, Giotto painted plants around Christ’s feet. The excellent restoration of the chapel’s frescoes has brought out the details. Christ has a laurel bush, a strawberry tree, or arbutus, and plants of parsley and dill behind him and a variety of calamintha under his feet. They are painted with exceptional precision. Some of the leaves on the parsley are yellow, just as in older age.

In ‘Joachim’s Sacrifice’, a goat eats a pink-flowered
clover; nearby is a marigold and a chamomile.

When Giotto painted The Dream of Joachim, father-to-be of the Virgin Mary, he also put in individual plants, this time on a rocky hill; borage, chives and a spiny thistle. When Clark discussed it in close-up, he ignored them. In the previous scene, Joachim’s Sacrifice, Giotto painted a goat eating a pink-flowered plant in the foreground. It is a clover, exactly painted, and around it there is a marigold and another chamomile.

Genius is capable of almost anything in its field: Giotto, I now realise, is a brilliant botanical artist. How and why did he paint particular plants? His Resurrected Christ is the Christ whom Mary mistook for a gardener. I do not think that he therefore showed plants behind him. Nor does Maria Autizi, one of the restorers who worked at close quarters on Giotto’s paintings.