144
and lack of them.
7
Heads of John the Baptist floating before us, serene, without a
sound. Still lives, with pernici (partridges) all dead, as their genre evinces (Natura
morta); hunting scenes, crucifixions, prayer, violence meted out in every guise of
the human story; besides the classic elements, also meted out, by Annibale Carracci
(1560–1609) in his “Paesaggio con la fuga in Egitto” (“Landscape With the Flight
into Egypt,” FC236), one of the Galleria’s most famous works, though the only
flight is in the sky, a flock above, not terrestrially; and the landscape is anything but
Egyptian, whose New Testament iconography is borne out by two vaguely evoked
camels on a far ridge.
Meanwhile, the burro is lazily burdened only by a piece of clothing on its back,
a halter and slight incline above the water. All is of a languorous pace. Commissioned
for the chapel in the palace in 1603 by its owner, Cardinal Pietro Aldobrandini
(1571–1621), this painting, one of six lunettes framed in their lunar hideaways,
elicited in art historian Kenneth Clark the idea that Carracci had formulated the
perfect, if academic, landscape;
7
never mind that it was intended to depict that
period in the life of Mary when her very existence, and that of Joseph and of Christ,
depended on quickly escaping from the wrath of Herod in Palestine.
8
16.2 Museological Nostalgias
These are the conflicts and contradictions that have attended upon the impulse to
share the tatters and poignancies of private lives with the public. Pope Julius II had,
well over a century before Pope Innocent X, opened a sculpture gallery at the
Vatican. And before that, Romans enjoyed Pope Sixtus IV’s own sculptures. From
Schloss Ambras in Innsbruck to the city of Basel, the example of meaningful collections, tested on the diffuse wants of public interest and wide eyes examining the
past, had been a fixation. The obsessed were given to expeditions and meticulous
collecting, in the style of Bologna’s great naturalist, Ulisse Aldrovandi
(1522–1605)—the Aldrovandi family was to the Emilia-Romana, what the Doria
Pamphilj Landi was, and remains, for Genoa, Rome, and the Vatican.
9
Ulisse himself is thought of by many as the European father of natural history, 150 years prior
to Linnaeus.
When the possession of explorer/collector John Tradescant the Younger of Kent’s
abundant cabinets of curiosity fell into the hands of the eccentric polymath, Elias
Ashmole (1617–1692), Britain’s tradition of open university museum holdings was
also assured, in the formation of the Ashmolean Museum at the University of
7 Goldstein, Richard, Desperate Hours: The Epic Rescue of the Andrea Doria. John Wiley & Sons,
New York, 2003.
8 See Landscape into Art, by Kenneth Clark, John Murray, London, 1949, Chapter Four “Ideal
Landscape,” pp. 54–73.
9 See, for example, https://opusdei.org/en-us/article/life-of-mary-x-flight-into-egypt. Accessed
March 20, 2019.
16 Tatters and Poignancies
and lack of them.
7
Heads of John the Baptist floating before us, serene, without a
sound. Still lives, with pernici (partridges) all dead, as their genre evinces (Natura
morta); hunting scenes, crucifixions, prayer, violence meted out in every guise of
the human story; besides the classic elements, also meted out, by Annibale Carracci
(1560–1609) in his “Paesaggio con la fuga in Egitto” (“Landscape With the Flight
into Egypt,” FC236), one of the Galleria’s most famous works, though the only
flight is in the sky, a flock above, not terrestrially; and the landscape is anything but
Egyptian, whose New Testament iconography is borne out by two vaguely evoked
camels on a far ridge.
Meanwhile, the burro is lazily burdened only by a piece of clothing on its back,
a halter and slight incline above the water. All is of a languorous pace. Commissioned
for the chapel in the palace in 1603 by its owner, Cardinal Pietro Aldobrandini
(1571–1621), this painting, one of six lunettes framed in their lunar hideaways,
elicited in art historian Kenneth Clark the idea that Carracci had formulated the
perfect, if academic, landscape;
7
never mind that it was intended to depict that
period in the life of Mary when her very existence, and that of Joseph and of Christ,
depended on quickly escaping from the wrath of Herod in Palestine.
8
16.2 Museological Nostalgias
These are the conflicts and contradictions that have attended upon the impulse to
share the tatters and poignancies of private lives with the public. Pope Julius II had,
well over a century before Pope Innocent X, opened a sculpture gallery at the
Vatican. And before that, Romans enjoyed Pope Sixtus IV’s own sculptures. From
Schloss Ambras in Innsbruck to the city of Basel, the example of meaningful collections, tested on the diffuse wants of public interest and wide eyes examining the
past, had been a fixation. The obsessed were given to expeditions and meticulous
collecting, in the style of Bologna’s great naturalist, Ulisse Aldrovandi
(1522–1605)—the Aldrovandi family was to the Emilia-Romana, what the Doria
Pamphilj Landi was, and remains, for Genoa, Rome, and the Vatican.
9
Ulisse himself is thought of by many as the European father of natural history, 150 years prior
to Linnaeus.
When the possession of explorer/collector John Tradescant the Younger of Kent’s
abundant cabinets of curiosity fell into the hands of the eccentric polymath, Elias
Ashmole (1617–1692), Britain’s tradition of open university museum holdings was
also assured, in the formation of the Ashmolean Museum at the University of
7 Goldstein, Richard, Desperate Hours: The Epic Rescue of the Andrea Doria. John Wiley & Sons,
New York, 2003.
8 See Landscape into Art, by Kenneth Clark, John Murray, London, 1949, Chapter Four “Ideal
Landscape,” pp. 54–73.
9 See, for example, https://opusdei.org/en-us/article/life-of-mary-x-flight-into-egypt. Accessed
March 20, 2019.
16 Tatters and Poignancies