Favourite Paintings: 'The Death of St Francis' by Giotto

One of my favourite paintings isn't really a painting at all, it's a fresco cycle by Giotto in the Bardi Chapel in the church of Santa Croce in Florence. The frescoes are about the life of St Francis and I've chosen the scene showing the death of the friar who soon afterwards became a saint.

I still remember my excitement at seeing a real Giotto chapel for the first time, exclaiming 'He invented art', when I realised what I was looking at and wanted to drink it all in with my eyes. Of course, art has been around for millennia before Giotto but he and a few other masters were pivotal in modernising art in the late middle ages that led to the Renaissance and the great flourishing of art one hundred years later.

Look at the friars gathered around the deathbed of their leader, the man they'd given up everything to follow, just like the Apostles gave up everything to follow their Lord. They were real men who knew the real Francis, not the legendary saint, faults and all. They don't look saintly and ethereal do they? They were real men, you and me, who happened to live in extraordinary times. They react differently, some seeming to be telling Francis to hold on a bit longer, some in tears, some in shock, just as you do when someone dies. This was part of Giotto's genius, his attempts at storytelling in a way that had never been done before, to show real people showing real emotion. It's an astonishing display of the imagination and the skills of the master.

The strange oblong of empty space in the centre of the fresco is the result of some stupid rich person wanting to be tried in that chapel so they hollowed out part of the wall to place his coffin in. Luckily they retained the original fresco so it could be replaced at a later date. Just underneath the fresco is a line that runs round the entire chapel showing the highest point the water reached when the Arno overflowed its banks in 1966 and flooded Florence. I wonder what intervention prevented it reaching these amazing frescoes?

When you've drunk in as much as you can of the chapel, walk back maybe 20-30 yards and look up at the top of the chapel and, on the walls of the church you'll see another fresco by Giotto, this time a very big painting of St Francis receiving the stigmata. The seraph is flying overhead and beams of light transfer the stigmata of Christ to St Francis. You can't get close enough to see the detail since it's so high up on the walls but there's a similar painting on a panel in the Louvre in Paris that you can get close to.

The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston

I can't possibly go to a foreign city to explore its museums and galleries and not blog about them. Because I needed to see the Fra Angelico exhibition at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston then that was the first place I visited.

After seeing the Fra Angelico exhibition in the new wing of the museum I walked through the glass tunnel to 'the Palace', the name now given to Isabella's house and art mansion. At first, I thought it was a bit like Leighton House in Kensington, a period residence full of art, but this is so much more and so much bigger. One of the prides of the collection is a portrait of Isabella by John Singer Sargent that is on display in one of the corner rooms upstairs. I quickly came to the conclusion that this museum should definitely be on anyone's top ten list of places to visit in Boston and, for an art lover, I'd say top five.

Once you're through the tunnel you come to the courtyard garden. My first reaction was to wonder where all the snow was? There was a foot or so of snow outside, so where was it? Looking up, I saw a glass ceiling protecting the garden and enabling the plants to grow and flower. You can't go into the garden but can walk all the way round it. There's a central mosaic and loads of statues dotted around the planting. Given the whiteness of the snow outside, it was odd to see all the greenery in the courtyard. I bet it's lovely in spring and high summer.

The mansion is very big and three stories high and that makes exploring it really interesting, never knowing what you might come across next. To a layman, the layout of the place makes little sense with X painting next to Y period desk and chairs and Z painting opposite with a gothic altarpiece just to the right... it's a right hodge-podge of stuff thrown together for reasons I can't fathom. Like having a Botticelli Virgin & Child in the alcove of a corridor that people will most likely miss and  turn left along the corridor rather than right to see the painting. Most museums would have a Botticelli front and centre with big lighting and signage. Not here.

In a talk in the Fra Angelico exhibition I learned that everything in the museum was put where Isabella Stewart Gardner wanted it and it's part of the bequest that the location can't be changed. Fair enough, it's her art and she can place it where she wants. Like placing the Fra Angelico reliquary on the side of a fireplace that makes it easy to miss unless you look but it's beside a north-facing window so it gets consistent sunlight rather than the vagaries of morning/afternoon sunlight.

I actually quite liked this approach, wandering round the place finding one 'wow' painting after another. I didn't really bother with the map you're given on entry but just followed my nose. My 'wow' factor almost went audible when I found a small panel by Giotto standing on top of a small red velvet-covered desk, close enough to touch. A lovey little Giotto in this collection, close enough to touch and positioned under her gaze. I suspect many world-cess museums would be happy to have this small panel in their own collections. I wanted to pull the seat out from under the desk and sit down and just look at it. I wonder how many people have actually touched this gem over the years?

In one room you actually enter under a wooden pulpit. I was too busy looking round the room to look for another gem but I suspect the pulpit was Italian and her guests probably played with it, making speeches or wotnot from the platform.

I really liked the 'you never know what you'll find next' experience of wandering around that big old house. All built around that lovely courtyard garden with lots of windows looking out over it so it really is central to the place. So much art in there: paintings, tapestries, furniture, sculpture and the house itself. What must it have been like to live surrounded by all that art? Not all of it is great art, but it's definitely interesting art.

So if you're in Boston and you like art then you could do a lot worse that spend a couple of hours in the Gardner Museum. It's just a few minutes walk from the Museum of Fine Art and you get a discount on the MFA ticket if you show your Gardner Museum ticket (the MFA ticket desk saw my Gardner Museum bag and helpfully mentioned it). The Gardner Museum also has a great little restaurant and gift shop. It also has best toilets in Boston - just look at all that green!

Giotto at Santa Croce, Florence

Santa Croce is one of the larger church complexes in Florence. It's also one of the most important art complexes with works still in place after 500 years. The first time I went there I got terribly excited by seeing a Giotto fresco cycle for the first time and exclaiming out loud that 'he invented art!'. Well, he did, sort of.

The church is at one end of a large square that hosts a market some days of the week. At other times it's empty and you're greeted by a rather severe statue of Dante surrounded by four lions. His disdainful countenance which is based on is death mask looks down on you and asks whether you are worthy to enter the church. I am actually, Mr Dante. So you pay your due and go in near the main altar which is very splendid but the main sight is to the right of the altar. A Giotto chapel!

The chapel is dedicated to St Francis and his followers and Giotto depicts scenes from his life and his death. It's really quite wonderful to see a wall - several walls - covered in paintings by Giotto, some so high up you can' really see the detail at all but it's all there. Giotto tried to bring a new naturalism into his art, to show people as they really were in the presence of God and his Son, his saints and holy men and women. That's what we see in this chapel, Giotto trying to bring a new naturalism to religious art.

That's what we see in the scene that depicts the deathbed of St Francis, his monks shocked and appalled at his death, hardly believing that such a holy man can have died. And Giotto tries to capture the various expressions that might happen at such a pivotal moment. How would you react to the most holy man you've ever met leaving you to join your Lord?

Some of the monks hold up their hands in shock and disbelief, some bend to kiss his hand for the last time while others try to commiserate with them. 'How is this possible?' some are muttering while others comfort themselves by recognising that their Lord has called him to His side. So many emotions in one panel of a fresco. Emotions not seen before Giotto interpreted the holy tales and painted them in this chapel. That is the power of a great artist, to make us see something we can't possibly have seen ourselves but he shows it to us. He tries to make us part of the scene by depicting real people. And Giotto was the first, the trailblazer who escaped from the previous artistic tradition and began a new journey. How wonderful.

Here are some more photos of that chapel, of that story that Giotto told for the first time. Look and marvel. And go to Santa Croce if you can - don't take my word for it.

'From Giotto to Caravaggio' at the Musee Jacquemart-Andre, Paris

When in Paris a visit to the Musee Jacquemart-Andre is almost mandatory. I went there to see the marvellous exhibition about Fra Angelico a few years ago (indeed, that exhibition was the sole reason for going to Paris) and, last year, the exhibition about Peregrino (Rapheal's master).  A visit to the cafe is also mandatory for delicious cakes (my favourite is a raspberry and cream cake with a macaroon base and topping - yum!).

This time it was an early evening visit (since the museum stays open late on Mondays) to see the latest exhibition, 'From Giotto to Caravaggio'. The exhibition is based around the theories and collection of Roberto Longhi, a collector and art historian and many of the exhibits come from his collection. The focus is on Caravaggio and his many followers and imitators who played with the dramatic light and shade and almost theatricality of his subjects that are central features of his work.

As well as the 'Boy Bitten By A Lizard' in the poster for the exhibition, the other main painting by Caravaggio was 'The Crowning with Thorns', a dramatic painting of the thorns being forced onto Christ's head, too thorny for the guards to touch so they ease it on with sticks. This painting was then followed by a room of similar paintings, all with the crown of thorns and sticks, all dramatically lit and all very derivative if you've seen the Caravaggio.

The depiction of the crowning looks painful - as it must have been - but I had difficulty in seeing Christ in that painting. He was 33 when he died and that face is of a man who is definitely in his 50s. The trials of his last days couldn't make him age so quickly so I wonder what the artist was trying to say by making him look so old. And yes, the aged face is also copied in the other paintings.

The essays in light and shade by the followers of Caravaggio were all very well but the highlights of the exhibition for me weren't those of the 16th and 17th Centuries, but rather the beauties of the 14th Century.

As everyone knows, Giotto invented art and it's always a thrill to see his paintings. I've never been to Sienna to see his chapels but I have seen the two small chapels he painted in Santa Croce in Florence and they take the breath away. Such marvels and colour, such simple storytelling yet so powerful. There are two paintings by Giotto in this exhibition, St John the Evangelist and St Laurence and this is St John (which was my favourite). There were angels above both paintings and the one above St John almost looked bored - c'mon, get on with it, he's almost saying. I liked his wings.

Giotto's St John could almost have been a real person, drawn from a model with a baldy head and a great two-pronged beard. There's probably a thesis in there somewhere, but when did artists start depicting saints with bald heads? It's the attention to the 'real' as well as the artistic license. On closer inspection you can see the wrinkles around John's eyes, bringing yet more realism to the painting. By comparison, St Laurence is more theoretical and less based in the reality of what a man looks like, but John is marvellous. Both paintings are dated as 1320.

Another favourite was by Masaccio and painted a few years later, a beautiful small Virgin & Child. It's much smaller than the Giottos, maybe about 12 inches tall and framed and the blue of Mary's shawl is incredibly vivid and attracted me from across the room.  It's a very calming painting and I can well believe it was used to aid quiet contemplation and meditation and it's almost like Mary is playing with the baby in her arms. The gold background with the imprint of haloes is reflected in the hem of Mary's shawl and you can easily see the folds and drapes in the material, an innovation back then. It really is quite lovely.

I've seen Masaccio's great frescoes at Santa Maria del Carmine in Florence and they are magnificent. There's also another version of the Virgin & Child in the National Gallery in London, surrounded by angels, but I think I prefer this version. It's simple and gentle and lovely to look at.

The exhibition ends with three large three-quarter length portraits of saints by Jusepe de Ribera and one of these I actively disliked - Saint Bartholemew wielding a knife and a flayed skin. What's that all about? Clearly I need to read up on the saints but this wizened, cruel old man isn't someone I ever want to know too much about. I don't like this painting despite the expert rendering and realism of the subject. I much prefer the painting of the young St Thomas with his staff, interestingly in profile holding his billowing cape. He looks slightly weather-beaten and unwashed and is very believable.

So there you have it, my latest trip to Jacquemart-Andre and, like the Musee Marmottan Monet, it also has an excellent book and gift-shop to pop into on the way out. Until next time...