Alberto Aringhieri and the Chapel of Saint John the Baptist: Patronage, Politics, and the Cult of Relics in Renaissance Siena Timothy B

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THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY

SCHOOL OF VISUAL ARTS AND DANCE

ALBERTO ARINGHIERI AND THE CHAPEL OF SAINT JOHN THE BAPTIST:

PATRONAGE, POLITICS, AND THE CULT OF RELICS IN RENAISSANCE SIENA

TIMOTHY BRYAN SMITH

A Dissertation submitted to the Department of Art History in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Awarded: Fall Semester, 2002

Jack Freiberg Professor Directing Dissertation

Mark Pietralunga Outside Committee Member

Nancy de Grummond Committee Member

Robert Neuman Committee Member

Approved:

Paula Gerson, Chair, Department of Art History

Sally McRorie, Dean, School of Visual Arts and Dance

The Office of Graduate Studies has verified and approved the abovenamed committee members. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First I must thank the faculty and staff of the Department of Art History, Florida State

University, for unfailing support from my first day in the doctoral program. In particular, two departmental chairs, Patricia Rose and Paula Gerson, always came to my aid when needed and helped facilitate the completion of the degree. I am especially indebted to those who have served on the dissertation committee: Nancy de Grummond, Robert Neuman, and Mark Pietralunga.

For crucial financial support, without which the dissertation would not have been completed, I extend my deepest appreciation. Two Travel Fellowships in the History of Art from the Samuel H. Kress Foundation enabled extended research trips to Florence and Siena in

1998 and 2000 respectively. The Hill Monastic Manuscript Library provided a Heckman

Research Grant in 1999 that allowed me to consult microfilm of the archives of the Knights of

Rhodes. The Office of Graduate Studies at Florida State University awarded me a Research

Grant in 1998 and a Dissertation Fellowship in 2000. Teaching Assistantships at the Florida

State University London Study Center in 1996 and 1999 offered invaluable research opportunities as well.

I wish to extend my appreciation to the staffs of many libraries, archives, and museums for help in accessing research materials and artworks, and for their warm hospitality: in Siena, the Biblioteca Comunale, Archivio di Stato, Archivo dell' Opera del Duomo (particularly Susan

Scott), and the Archivio Arcivescovado; in Florence, the Kunsthistorisches Institut, Archvio di

Stato, and Biblioteca Nazionale; in Casole d' Elsa, the Museo archeologico e della Collegiata

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(particularly Charlie Rumley); in London, the Libraries of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes,

the British Library, National Art Library, and the Museum and Library of the Order of St. John

(particularly Piers de Sallis); in Chicago, the Newberry Library, the Ryerson Library at the Art

Institute of Chicago, Northwestern University Libraries, and Richardson Library at DePaul

University; and in Minnesota, the Hill Monastic Manuscript Library (particularly Teressa Vann).

Many colleagues generously shared their scholarship and expertise and offered

encouragement, most notably: Monica Butzek, Bruce Cole, Sally Cornelison, Philippa Jackson,

Tom Lowman, Anthony Luttrell, Charles Mack, Scott Montgomery, Fabrizio Nevola, John

Paoletti, and Gary Radke. A special note of thanks is due Shelley Zuraw, for it was her

suggestion to investigate the house of the Knights of Rhodes in Rome that led me ultimately to the chapel of the Baptist in Siena and thus the subject of this dissertation.

I am equally grateful for the advice and support of dear friends during the duration of this process, including Steve Frendreis, Anne Heath, and Joanna Gardner-Huggett. David

Areford graciously endured the task of reading the manuscript and his comments have improved the dissertation immensely. I have been fortunate to be surrounded at the end by sympathetic colleagues at DePaul University, especially Paul Jaskot.

Finally to my advisor, Jack Freiberg, I owe the greatest debt for his model of rigorous scholarship, critical thinking, and clear writing; for his constant interest in, support of, and specific contributions to the dissertation; and for his limitless patience during those times when I struggled with the challenges of this project.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

List of Figures……………………………………………………………………..………..……..vi List of Abbreviations…………………………………………………………………...…..…...xvii Abstract………………………………………………………………………………….….….xviii

INTRODUCTION…………………………………………………………………….……….…...1

1. THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST: FORM, FUNCTION AND MEANING………….…...... 15

2. THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST AND ALBERTO ARINGHIERI…………………..…..…..71

3. THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST AND THE CITY OF SIENA………………………....…..103

4. THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST AND THE KNIGHTS OF RHODES…………….…...... 166

5. EPILOGUE: THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY….....203

CONCLUSION………………………………………………………………………………...... 227

APPENDIX A……………………………………………………………………………..……. 231

APPENDIX B…………………………………………………………………………………... 245

FIGURES……………………………………………………………………………………..….256

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY……………………………………………...…………..…….…434

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH……………………………………………………………………..448

LIST OF FIGURES

1. Francesco d’ Antonio, Reliquary for the Arm of the Baptist, Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Siena (from Cesaritti, Merlini, and Tavolari, page 47)…………………………...257

2. Plan of Siena Cathedral From 1658, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Rome (photo: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana)………………………………………………………258

3. Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……………………………………..259

4. Façade Column and Pedestal, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……..260

5. Façade Detail of Column Capital, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………………261

6. Façade Detail of Pilasters, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: Kunsthistorisches Institut, Florence)…………………………………………………..262

7. Façade Detail of Pilasters, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………..263

8. Façade Detail of Pilaster, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………....264

9. Detail of Right Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………...265

10. Detail of Right Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………...266

11. Detail of Right Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………………267

12. Detail of Left Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………………268

13. Detail of Left Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………………269

14. Detail of Left Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………………270

15. Upper Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)….…………….…. 271

16. Façade Detail of Pier, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………....272

17. Façade Detail of Frieze (Putti with Garlands), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………….….273

18. Façade Detail of Putti with Garlands, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……………………………………………………………….274

19. Façade Detail of Winged Victory Figure (Right), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: Grassi)……………………………………………………………….275

20. Façade Detail of Winged Victory Figure (Left), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: Grassi)……………………………………………………………….276

21. Façade Detail of Frieze (Putti with Winged Lions), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: Kunsthistorisches Institut, Florence)………………………………..277

22. Marble Revetment Under Barrel Vault, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………..278

23. Barrel Vault, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……………………279

24. Dome, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………..280

25. Interior With Statue of Saint John the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.)………………………..281

26. Donatello, Saint John the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: Conway Library, Courtauld Institute of Art)…………………………………………282

27. Interior With Statue of Saint Ansanus, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.)…………………………………….……283

28. Giovanni di Stefano, Saint Ansanus Baptizing, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Kuhlenthal, figure 4)………………………………………………….284

29. Interior With Statue of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: Scala)……………………………………………………………….285

30. Neroccio di Bartolomeo, Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Coor, figure 26)…………………………………………………….…286

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31. Pinturicchio, Birth of Saint John the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Lusini, 2, page 132)……………………………………………….….. 287

32. Pinturicchio, Saint John the Baptist In the Wilderness, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Carli, 1979, plate CXCVII)…………………………………………... 288

33. Pinturicchio, Saint John the Baptist Preaching, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Acidini Luchinat, 1999, figure 84)…………………………………...... 289

34. Detail of Wood Carving, Interior, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………... 290

35. Interior With Portraits, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: Scala)…………....291

36. Pinturicchio, Alberto Aringhieri, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Acidini Luchinat, 1999, figure 86)………………………………………………….…. .292

37. Pinturicchio, Young Knight (Luzio Aringhieri?), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Sire, plate III)……………………………………………………….....293

38. Detail of Framework for Intarsia Panels, Collegiata, San Quirico d’Orcia (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………....294

39. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Lute Player, Collegiata, San Quirico d’Orcia (from Sisi, figure 396)…………………………………………………………………………295

40. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Garden Scene, Collegiata, San Quirico d’Orcia (from Thornton, figure 4)………………………………………………………………….….. 296

41. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Male Figure, Collegiata, San Quirico d’Orcia (from Angelini, 1988-1989, figure 2)……………………………………………………….... 297

42. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Disciple of the Baptist (?), Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia (from Trionfi Honorati, figure 13)…………………………………….. 298

43. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Self Portrait (from Thornton, figure 7)…………….....299

44. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel With Organ, Collegiata, San Quirico d’Orcia (from Sisi, figure 395)………………………………………………………………………...300

45. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel With Cabinet, Collegiata, San Quirico d’Orcia (from Trionfi Honorati, figure 7)………………………………………………………………301

46. Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel With Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia (from Angelini, 1988-1989, figure 1)…………………………………...302

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47. Interior With Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……………...... 303

48. Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………..….304

49. Creation of Adam, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………….305

50. Creation of Eve, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………....306

51. Eve Tempted By the Devil, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………….307

52. Adam Tempted By Eve, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………….308

53. Adam and Eve Confronted By God, Adam Tempted By Eve, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………...309

54. Expulsion From the Garden of Eden, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………..310

55. Hercules and the Nemean Lion, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………..311

56. Hercules and Nessus, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………....312

57. Façade, Chapel of Saint John the Baptist, Lateran Baptistery, Rome (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………………....313

58. Façade, Chapel of Saint Zeno, Santa Prassede, Rome (from Krautheimer, 1980, figure 103)………………………………………………………....314

59. Chapel of Saint John the Baptist, San Lorenzo, Genoa (from Dagnino and di Fabio, figure 18)…………………………………………………….....315

60. Cappella di Piazza, Piazza di Campo, Siena (photo: author)…………………………….316

61. Arch of Titus, Rome (photo: author)……………………………………………………..317

62. Arch of Constantine, Rome (from D. Kleiner, 1992, figure 406)………………………...318

63. Entrance to the Stanza of the Arm Relic, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………….....319

64. Plan of the Anastasis Rotunda, Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Jerusalem (from Krautheimer, 1986, figure 27b)……………………………………………………….....320

65. Arculf Plan of Anastasis Rotunda (from Koch, figure 33)………………………………....321

66. Baptistery, Florence (photo: author)…………………………………………………….…322

67. Paoliotto, Museo del’ Opera del Duomo, Florence (from Welch, figure 21)………….…..323

68. Vecchietta, Painted Doors of the Arliquiera, Pinacoteca, Siena (from Van Os, 1974, figure 1)……………………………………………………………….…324

69. Chapel of Saint Catherine of Siena, San Domenico, Siena (postcard: Edizioni ICEA)………………………………………………………………….….325

70. Reliquary Tabernacle, Chapel of Saint Catherine of Siena, San Domenico, Siena (postcard: Edizioni Cantagalli)………………………………………………………………..326

71. Chapel Font Covered With Altar, Detail of Seventeen-Century Drawing of Interior of the Chapel of the Baptist, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Rome (photo: Bilioteca Apostolica Vaticana)……………………………………………….……….327

72. Font, Siena Baptistery (postcard: Edizioni Cantagalli)……………………………..…….328

73. Roman Altar, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (from Milleker, figure 54)………………………………………………………………….….329

74. Roman Sarcophagus, Vatican Museums, Rome (from Huskinson, plate 10)………....…....330

75. Jacapo delle Quercia, Tomb of Ilaria del Carretto, Lucca Cathedral (from Seymour, plate 9A)……………………………………………………………………...331

76. Relief from a Roman Sarcophagus, Palazzo Mattei, Rome (from Huskinson, plate 11)………………………………………………………….…………332

77. Putto with Griffin, Vatican Museums, Rome (from Packer, figure 80)………….………....333

78. Model of the Arch of the Sergii at Pola (from D. Kleiner, 1992, figure 98)………….…...334

79. Arch of Alfonso, Castel Nuovo, Naples (from Driscoll, figure 1)………………………...335

80. Detail, Arch of Alfonso, Castel Nuovo, Naples (from Driscoll, figure 5)………………...336

81. Seventeenth-Century Study for Refurbishment of the Dome of the Chapel of the Baptist, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Rome (Butzek, 1996, figure 91a)…….……....337

82. Vincenzo Foppa and Ludovico Brea, Della Rovere Altarpiece, Santa Maria di Castello, Savona (from Welch, figure 32)…………………………….…….....338

83. Giovanni Bellini, Saint Vincent Ferrer Altarpiece, Santi Giovanni e Paolo, Venice (from Zuffi, page 97)………………………………………………………….339

84. Andrea Sansovino, Corbinelli Altarpiece, Santo Spirito, Florence (from Ingendaay, figure 12)…………………………………………………………………….340

85. Antonio Rossellino and Francesco Botticini, Altarpiece of Saint Sebastian, Pinacoteca, Empoli (from Ingendaay, figure 13)……………………………………………….341

86. Reconstruction of Niche of Saint Bernardino (from Millon, page 450)…………….……...342

87. Giovanni di Paolo, Scenes From the Life of John the Baptist (from Christiansen, Kanter, and Strehlke, page 216)…………………………………….……..343

88. Ghirlandaio, Tornabuoni Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence (from Carniani and Paolucci, page 89)…………………………………………………………344

89. Ghirlandaio, Sassetti Chapel, Santa Trinita, Florence (from Carniani and Paolucci, page 79)………………………………………………………….345

90. Chapel of the Cardinal of Portugal, San Miniato, Florence (from Heydenreich, figure 53)…………………………………………………………………..346

91. Cesare Maccari, The Baptist Visited in Prison, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………….…...…347

92. Vincenzo Rustici, The Baptism of Christ, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………………..348

93. Vincenzo Rustici, The Beheading of the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……………………………………………………….……...…349

94. Palazzo Aringhieri, Siena (photo: author)……………………………………….….……....350

95. Aringhieri Coat of Arms, Palazzo Aringhieri, Siena (photo: author)…………….……….....351

96. General Plan of Floor Pavements, Siena Cathedral (from Toritti, page 90)………………...352

97. Pavement Inscription Below The Expulsion of Herod, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………………….………..353

98. Pavement Inscription Before the Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………….…………………………………………………….……………….354

99. Antonio Federighi, Holy Water Stoup, Siena Cathedral (from Landi, plate IX)…………………………………………………………………………...355

100. Andrea Bregno, Piccolomini Altar, Siena Cathedral (from Torriti, page 113)………………………………………………………………..………..356

101. Piccolomini Library, Siena Cathedral (from Lusini, 2, page 235)……………..………….357

102. School of Duccio, Maestà, Museo Archeologico e della Collegiata, Casole d’Elsa (from Cimino, Ponzi, and Passeri, figure 13)…………………………....………358

103. Detail of Maestà (Rainieri Aringhieri) (from Cianferoni and Bagnoli, page 64)……………………………………….………………..359

104. Detail of Maestà (Beltramo Aringhieri) (from Cianferoni and Bagnoli, page 65)……………………………………….………………..360

105. Marco Romano, Beltramo Aringhieri, Collegiata, Casole d’ Elsa (from Cimino, Ponzi, and Passeri, figure 15)……………………………………...…………....361

106. Sepulchral Inscription for Niccolò Aringhieri, Cloister, San Domenico, Siena (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………....362

107. Former Site of Wall Tomb of Niccolò Aringhieri, Cloister, San Domenico, Siena (photo: author)…………………………………………….…..………....363

108. Goro di Gregorio, Tomb of Niccolò Aringhieri, Courtyard, University of Siena (photo: author)………………………………………………..…...……….364

109. Detail of Tomb of Niccolò Aringhieri (photo: author)………………………...………….365

110. Pietro Lorenzetti (attributed), Madonna and Child with John the Baptist and Knight, San Domenico, Siena (from Norman, 1995, 2, plate 186)……………...………….366

111. Martino di Bartolomeo, Bartolomeo Palmieri, Oratory of San Giovanni, Cascina (from Ascheri, figure 41)…………………………………………………...………….367

112. Donatello, Tomb Slab of Bishop Giovanni Pecci (photo: author)…….………....……….368

113. Pope Pius II Donates the Arm Relic of the Baptist to Siena, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena (from Cairola, page 51)……………………………………………....369 .. 114. She-Wolf Atop Column, Siena (photo: author)………………………………….………..370

115. Towers on the Via Montanini, Siena (photo: author)……………………………………..371

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116. Fragment of a Roman Inscription, Siena (photo: author)………………………………....372

117. Arch of Augustus, Rimini (photo: author)……………………………………….……….373

118. Thirteenth-Century Seal of the Commune of Siena, Bargello, Florence (from Leoncini, figure 5)…………………………………..…..…………..374

119. Giovanni di Turino, Arms of the Military Company of San Quirico in Castelvecchio, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena (from Leoncini, figure 6)…………..…..………….375

120. Giovanni di Turino, She-Wolf, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena (from Cairola, page 11)………………………………………………………………..……….376

121. Relief from Roman Sarcophagus, Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Siena (photo: author)……………………………………………………………….………….377

122. Detail of Right Pedestal, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……………………………………………………………………....…………378

123. Nerocio di Bartolomeo, The Virgin Presents Siena to Christ, Archivio di Stato, Siena (photo: Archivio di Stato di Siena)……………………….…………379

124. Madonna degli occhi grossi, Museo del’ Opera del Duomo, Siena (from Norman, 1999, figure 35)…………………………………………………...….……….380

125. Coppo di Marcovaldo, Madonna del Bordone, Santa Maria dei Servi, Siena (from Norman, 1999, figure 51)………………………………………………..……….381 . 126. Neroccio di Bartolomeo, The Hellespontian Sibyl, Siena Cathedral (from Cust, page 48)……………………………………………………………….………….382

127. The Sienese She-Wolf Surrounded by the Symbols of the Allied Cities, Siena Cathedral (from Santi, figure 13)……………………………………………………….383

128. Lorenzo Ghiberti, Saint John the Baptist, Orsanmichele, Florence (from Paoletti and Radke, figure 4.40)…………………………………………….………….384

129. Vecchietta, The Risen Christ, Santissima Annunziata, Ospedale di Santa Maria della Scala, Siena (from Bellosi, page 213)…………....…………..385

130. Donatello, Marzocco, Bargello, Florence Venice (from Poeschke, figure 60)…………………………………………………………..………...386

131. Donatello, David, Bargello, Florence (from Pope-Hennessy, 1996, plate 33)…………………………………………...….………..387

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132. Donatello, Judith and Holofernes, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence (from Paoletti and Radke, figure 5.20)..…………………………………….…..……………..388

133. Donatello, Mary Magdalen, Museo del’ Opera del Duomo, Florence (from Pope-Hennessy, 1986, plate 40)…………………………….………….……………….389

134. Donatello, Saint John the Baptist, Santa Maria dei Frari, Venice (from Poeschke, figure 103)……………………………………………………..…………….390

135. Oratory of Saint Ansanus, Siena (photo: author)……………………….……….……….391

136. Detail of Duccio’s Maestà, Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Siena (from Mazzini, page 71)……………………………………………………..…………..…….392

137. Lippo Memmi, Saint Ansanus, Uffizi, Florence (from Zuffi, page 31)…..……….……...393

138. Antonio Federighi, Saint Ansanus, Loggia della Mercanzia, Siena (photo: author)……………………………………………………………..……………394

139. Vecchietta, Saint Catherine of Siena, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena (from Christiansen, Kanter, and Strehlke, page 16)……………………..………….…..……..395

140. Neroccio di Bartolomeo, Saint Catherine of Siena, Oratory of Santa Caterina di Siena in Fontebranda, Siena (from Bellosi, page 221)…..…………..……..396

141. Reliquary with Right Arm and Hand of John the Baptist (from Hume, page ix)……………………………………………………………...…………..397

142. Reliquary with Right Arm and Hand of John the Baptist, Topkapi Palace, Istanbul (from Cimok, page 42)………………………………………….….398

143. Arm of the Baptist Presented to the Grand Master (photo: National Library of Malta)………………………………………..…………………..399

144. Arm of the Baptist Held by Angels (photo: National Library of Malta)…………….…..400

145. Geertgen tot Sint Jans, Burning of the Bones of John the Baptist, Kunsthistorisches Museum,Vienna (photo: Kunsthistorisches Museum)………..………….....401

146. Miraculous Vision of the Baptist and Virgin at the Great Siege of Rhodes (photo: Newberry Library)…………………………………………………………….….…402

147. Silver Coin of Grand Master Helion de Villeneuve (from Sire, page 29)……………………………………………………………..…………...403

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148. Reliquary from the Hospitaller Church of John the Baptist in Jerusalem, Greek Orthodox Patriarchate (from Folda, 1995, plate 8B.10a)…………..…………..……...404

149. San Pietro alla Magione, Siena (photo: author)………………………………………....405

150. San Leonardo, Siena (photo: author)…………………………………………………....406

151. Matteo di Giovani, Massacre of the Innocents, Siena Cathedral (from Santi, figure 19)…………………………………………………..……..……………...407

152. Detail of Massacre of the Innocents (photo: author)………………..……..…………...408

153. Knight Pierre de Bosredon Before the Baptist (photo: Pierpoint Morgan Library)…………………………………………..…..….………...409

154. Coin of the Knights of Rhodes (from Kollias, figure 29)……………..…..…………...... 410

155. Reliquary with Arm and Hand of Saint Catherine of Alexandria (from Luttrell, 193, figure 4)…………………………………………………..….…………...411

156. Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)……………………....…………….412

157. Interior section, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Butzek, 1996, figure 77)………………………………………………....……………..413

158. Interior and vault, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral (from Borsi, figure 78)…………………………………………………………...………..….414

159. Façade Elevation, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral (from Borsi, figure 75)……………………………………………………..…..……………..415

160. Interior section and façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (from Butzek, 1980, figure 4)………………………………………………..…..………..…..416

161. Façade of Chapel of the Baptist With Proposed Changes (from Butzek, 1980, figure 6)………………………………………………….…………..….417

162. Frontispiece and Angels, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)………………………………………………………………….………..…....418

163. Detail of Dome Decoration, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………………………..…….419

164. Papal and Chigi Symbols, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral (photo: author)…………………………………………………………..……….………..…..420

165. Chapel of the Virgin, Collegiata, Impruneta from Pope-Hennessy, 1980, figure 43)………………………………….…..………………...421

166. Chapel of the True Cross, Collegiata, Impruneta (from Pope-Hennessy, 1980, figure 45)………………………………….….....….……...…...422

167. Altar and Tabernacle with Sudarium, Old Saint Peter’s, Rome (from Grimaldi, page 148)………………………………………………….……………..…..423

168. Altar and Tabernacle of Saint Andrew with Head Relic, Old Saint Peter’s, Rome (from Grimaldi, page 161)………………………………………………..……..…...... 424

169. Cappella Sistina, Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome (from Augenti, page 157)…………………………………………..………..………..….……425

170. Cappella Paolina, Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome (from Ostrow, plate VI)………………………………………………..…...…………..….…..426

171. Nave of Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome, with Tabernacle of the Virgin and Tabernacle of the Relics (from Ostrow, figure 160)………….……………….…..427

172. Gianlorenzo Bernini, Saint Jerome, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral (from Angelini, Butzek, and Sani, page 413)……………………………...... 428

173. Gianlorenzo Bernini, Mary Magdalene, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral (from Angelini, Butzek, and Sani, page 413)…………………………….…..429

174. Antonio Raggi, Saint Bernardino of Siena, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral (from Wittkower, figure 68)…………………………………….……….…..430

175. Ercole Ferrata, Saint Catherine of Siena, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral (from Wittkower, figure 69)……………………………………….………...431

176. High Altar, Siena Cathedral (postcard: Boschini Graziano)…………………..…….….432

177. Giuseppe and Bartolommeo Mazzuoli, Cenotaph of Marcantonio Zondadari, Siena Cathedral (from Carli, 1979, plate CCXXXII)…………………………………………………..….…...433

xvi

LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS

AODS Archivio del ‘Opera del Duomo di Siena

AAS Achivio di Arcivescovado di Siena

ASS Archivio di Stato di Siena

BCS Biblioteca Comunale di Siena

Deb. e Credit. Debitori e Creditori

Entra. e Usc. Entrata e Uscita

xvii

ABSTRACT

The reliquary chapel of Saint John the Baptist in Siena Cathedral, built between 1482 and

1504, provides valuable insight into an important cultural and historical moment in late fifteenth-

century Italy. This dissertation explicates the meaning of the chapel and its multi-media decoration

on three levels: the viewpoint of the patron, Alberto Aringhieri; the significance for the city of Siena;

and in response to the knightly Order of Saint John of Jerusalem.

For Aringhieri, the chapel continued a tradition of commemoration on the part of his family. The

portraits painted by Pinturicchio depict Aringhieri and his son Luzio underscore the dynastic content

of the monument while stressing the membership of these figures among the noble ranks of the

Knights of Rhodes.

The chapel’s civic significance is revealed by reference to the ancient Roman and early

Christian heritage of Siena. The all’ antica façade is related to the codification of the Siena’s Roman

past by local humanists, and the presence of Saint Ansanus, baptizer of the Sienese, in the interior

makes clear the city’s venerable place in the history of Christianity. Another level of civic meaning

in terms of Siena’s politically-turbulent relationship with Florence is suggested by the importance of

Donatello’s bronze statue of the Baptist, which could have been read both as a confirmation of

Sienese supremacy over their traditional rivals and as supportive of the Florentine government.

Alberto and Luzio Aringhieri’s membership in the Order of Saint John (Knights Hospitaller of

Rhodes) is directly relevant to the decoration and function of the chapel. The

xviii

Knights’ devotion to John the Baptist and their interest in relics of this saint are vital for

understanding the chapel’s meaning for its patron and other local members of the Order. The

traditional role of the Hospitallers as protectors of sacred relics and is continued by the painted

Aringhieri Knights that flank the chapel entrance on the interior.

The enduring importance of the chapel was underscored in the mid-seventeenth century by

Pope Alexander VII who used the monument, which he refurbished, as a model for his new Cappella del Voto located in a pendant position across the transept. The pope’s interests in the chapel reflect the same familial, civic, and knightly issues important for the original patron, Alberto Aringhieri.

xix

INTRODUCTION

On 6 May 1464, to mark the occasion of the elevation of Siena Cathedral to a metropolitan see, Pope Pius II Piccolomini (1458-64) presented his native city with an object of the greatest sanctity: the right arm and hand of Saint John the Baptist. Although Pius certainly facilitated Siena’s acquisition of the relic, it was not a gift from the pope, but in fact a purchase made by the commune for 1,000 gold ducats.1 Following official ceremonies in the Cathedral, the arm was carried by the Pontiff in a solemn procession of eminent cardinals and local dignitaries through the streets of the city.2 A committee quickly was formed to establish the relic’s authenticity and, that having been proven, the Cathedral cannon Bartolomeo Benvoglienti composed a now-lost oration celebrating Siena’s latest holy treasure.3 By 1466 a new reliquary was commissioned and completed, but no specific architectural setting was created for the relic for over twenty years, until Alberto Aringhieri, Operaio or head of the Cathedral works board, began construction of a chapel dedicated to the Baptist in the left transept of the church (Figures

1-2).4

The chapel, built and decorated between 1482 and 1504 when it was dedicated on 14

August, stands as one of the most important artistic projects of late Quattrocento Siena (Figure

3).5 Erected in the Cathedral, the city’s spiritual and civic heart, this circular, domed shrine was produced at great expense, utilizing costly marble, intarsia, and fresco painting, and drawing on a team of artists to create its multimedia decorative ensemble. Despite its prominent location and richness of materials, scholars have virtually ignored the chapel and missed a unique opportunity

to assess the intricate religious, political, and cultural dynamics of the Sienese commune at this poorly understood point in its history.6 The chapel and its distinctive decorative program was pregnant with meaning for a number of audiences, its content established by the goals of its effective patron, Alberto Aringhieri, member of one of the ruling families of Siena and Knight

Hospitaller of Rhodes.

This dissertation is the first study devoted to Siena’s chapel of Saint John the Baptist and explicates its meaning on three main levels, the personal viewpoint of the patron, the significance for the city of Siena, and in response to a wider, more international audience, namely those individuals and groups involved with the knightly Order of Saint John. It examines the component visual traditions of the painting, sculpture, and architecture that constitute the decorative ensemble, with particular attention focused on the employment of antique visual language, the utilization of the chapel as a commemorative vehicle for the patron, and the overarching political implications of the project. At the same time, basic questions regarding the development of the chapel’s construction and decoration, as well as its liturgical function as reliquary shrine and implied function as baptistery and sepulcher are explored.

While the discussion of these issues in each case requires the consideration of the local context, this study looks beyond the traditional boundaries established by past scholars who were convinced of artistic conservatism and isolationism in Sienese visual culture from the mid- fourteenth century on.7 Only when the chapel is evaluated in broader terms can the full extent of its content and possible range of interpretation by viewers be appreciated. Such an approach is also appropriate to Siena in the late fifteenth century, since at that time artist and patrons were strongly affected by visual influences from other Italian centers, particularly Urbino and Rome.8

The ultimate goal of this study is to discern how this chapel and its complex decorative program

were imbued with multiple layers of meaning for audiences both within and beyond Siena’s

borders.

The chapel’s most remarkable aspect was its visual richness, stemming from a fusion of

various artistic media into a unified ensemble, one that has never been treated as a coherent

entity, either visually or conceptually. The original impression of such a monument can only be

imagined today, however, as numerous renovations have altered the appearance of the chapel

since its completion in the early sixteenth century. A marble triumphal arch with barrel-vaulted

passageway still fronts the chapel, although the first iron screen that stood across its entry has

been replaced (Figures 3-23). The arch provides access to the chapel’s interior, which is centrally planned and vaulted by a dome (Figure 24). This dome was perhaps once painted with signs of the Zodiac. The focus of the space is Donatello’s famous bronze statue of John the

Baptist, a work commissioned in 1457 for an unknown location in Siena (Figures 25-26). The statue is set in a niche directly opposite the entrance and flanked by two similar niches with marble statues of Saints Ansanus and Catherine of Alexandria that were commissioned specifically for the chapel (Figures 27-30). Surrounding these sculptures are six frescoes by

Pinturicchio illustrating the life of the Baptist set in an elaborately carved architectural framework (Figures 31-34). Two additional frescoes by the same artist represent single individuals kneeling with hands clasped in prayer; one depicts an elderly man, traditionally identified as Alberto Aringhieri, the other a young knight (Figures 35-37). Below the level of these paintings ran a semicircular wooden bench that was removed in 1664. The back of this bench was decorated with nineteen figurative intarsia panels representing various subjects, such as saints, musicians, and liturgical instruments (Figures 38-46). In the middle of the chapel directly beneath the dome is an octagonal baptismal font carved in marble and adorned with reliefs (Figures 47-48). Six of these illustrate biblical scenes from the Book of Genesis,

including the creation of Adam and Eve, the Temptation by the devil, and the Expulsion from the

Garden of Eden (Figures 49-54). Also included are two scenes from the life of the mythological

hero Hercules, namely his battles with the Nemean Lion and the centaur Nessus (Figures 55-56).

While each of these components have been considered individually to some degree in the

scholarly literature, the main purpose of this study is to elucidate the meaning of the assemblage

in toto and to suggest how and why it was conceived by Aringhieri, and how it was perceived by

its primary audiences: the Aringhieri family, the Sienese citizenry, and the Knights of Rhodes. It

is just this type of integrated analysis that has been missing in the scholarly literature,

symptomatic of the relative lack of attention paid to the chapel as a whole.

Vittorio Lusini’s majesterial history of the Cathedral of Siena, published in two volumes

in 1911 and 1939 respectively, remains the fundamental source for information on the chapel. It

is here in the dense and loosely organized footnotes that almost all of the known documents

concerning its construction and decoration are published.9 Recent scholars led by Gail Aronow

have reviewed Lusini’s data, noting transcription errors and calling for the verification of his

findings in the Sienese archives.10 Ironically, despite Lusini’s copious documentation, he failed

to provide any real sense of the development of the project, choosing to present the

documentation according to the individual architectural or decorative element rather than in

terms of chronology. In the present study of the chapel, a review of the archival material has

been undertaken with the goal of establishing a coherent chronological narrative of construction

and decoration. The primary source for such information is the accounting records of the

Cathedral Opera, kept in two particular formats: the Entrata e Uscita, or listing of receipts and expenditures, and the Debitori e Creditori, a more complicated system that maintained running accounts of craftsmen, masons, and others working in the Cathedral.11

Enzo Carli’s 1979 monograph on the Cathedral has corrected some of Lusini’s errors, but

it delves no deeper into questions of function, meaning, or the reception of the chapel.12 More valuable are Carli’s annotations to a seventeenth-century description of the Cathedral written by

Alfonso Landi. Although the best review of published documents concerning the chapel to date, this commentary follows the narrative organization of that earlier text and again does not provide a developmental approach to the archival record.13 While a forthcoming volume by Monika

Butzek on the Cathedral will no doubt help to clarify confused documentation and provide new information, the nature of the Kirchen von Siena series, of which it will form a part, does not allow for the type of analysis and interpretation of the monument that has long been lacking.14

Individual components of the decorative ensemble have usually been considered in regards to issues of attribution, style, and dating, with little or no reference to the place of the respective element in the overall scheme. Donatello’s bronze statue has predictably garnered almost all scholarly attention, due in part to the mystery surrounding the circumstances of its original commission and intended location in Siena. Conversely, the chapel’s other two statues of Saint Ansanus and Saint Catherine of Alexandria have suffered from the scant attention paid to their sculptors, Giovanni di Stefano and Neroccio di Bartolomeo, respectively.15

Pinturicchio’s frescoes are also seldom discussed in any depth and are often described as merely decorative and not of the same quality as this artist’s major works.16 The intarsia panels, on the other hand, have been the focus of considerable research and analysis, despite the fact that almost all have now been lost.17 Comments on the sculpted baptismal font have been limited to questions of attribution, with the exception of E. M. Richter’s 1984 study of the sculpture of

Antonio Federighi in which some thought is given to the meaning of the unusual juxtaposition of

Christian and pagan subjects in the reliefs that decorate the sides of the basin.18 Finally, the imposing architectural gateway at the entrance to the chapel has been virtually ignored, aside

from the debate regarding the date and authorship of the richly sculpted pedestals beneath the

flanking columns.19

Changes introduced by Pope Alexander VII (1655-1667) forever altered the chapel, and

thus a certain amount of reconstruction is required to determine its original appearance. This

work is assisted by Pèleo Bacci’s 1931 publication of some of the archival material relating to

the seventeenth-century intervention, but most significantly by Butzek’s recent book concerning

the projects of Alexander for Siena Cathedral.20 This scholar’s publication of drawings of the façade and interior of the chapel before changes were made is essential for recovering the fifteenth-century monument, especially when considered together with the detailed account by

Landi.

In terms of the scholarship on Sienese art, this dissertation will provide yet another contribution to the growing list of studies that that have appeared in the last fifteen years which point to a renewed interest in the visual culture of Siena, particularly in regard to the relatively unexplored territory of the late Quattrocento. Aronow’s 1985 dissertation on the floor pavements in the Cathedral serves as an apt model for consideration of the church’s decorative evolution over several centuries and the interrelatedness of various components of the decoration, regardless of date of execution.21 Two major exhibition catalogues have furthered our understanding of the cultural and artistic environment in the city in the fifteenth century.

One, published in 1988, concerns painting in Siena between 1420 and 1500 and the other, from

1993, focuses on the Sienese Renaissance in the age of Francesco di Giorgio Martini (1439-

1502).22 New attention to Siena’s venerable civic traditions and their visual expression has also provided further impetus to explore these issues as well. In particular, Diana Norman’s 1999 examination of the close ties between the cult of the Virgin and Sienese civic identity in the late

Middle Ages underscores the characteristic intersection of politics, religion, and art in the city

and provides a model for a similar discussion of the chapel of the Baptist. 23

The only substantial attempt to consider the iconography of the chapel as a whole is to be

found embedded in Joan Thornton’s 1974 discussion of the intarsia panels.24 This author correctly assesses the importance of the Baptist to Aringhieri in the context of his membership in the Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, also known as the Knights Hospitallers of Rhodes. Saint

John was the patron saint of that military organization, and a link surely exists between the enshrined relic and Pius II’s crusading spirit. However, despite these real advances in our understanding, Thornton’s analysis is brief and undeveloped since her primary concern is the reconstruction of the sequence of the intarsia panels.

Questions concerning the exact nature of Aringheiri’s involvement in the chapel project and his importance in late fifteenth century Siena have also been raised in the scholarly literature.

Thornton downplays the involvement of Aringhieri in the chapel project, declaring him “a man of too little prominence to be accorded a biography even in the most recent Italian encyclopedias.”25 This lack of confidence in Aringhieri as the patron of the chapel is echoed in a recent study of the Piccolomini Library by G. V. G. Shepherd, who maintains that Cardinal

Francesco Todeschini Piccolomini, and not the Operaio, was the “primary patron” of the chapel.26 These doubts as to Aringhieri’s patronage stand in stark contrast to other evaluations, such as that of Carl Strehlke, who declares Aringhieri, along with Cardinal Piccolomini and

Pandolfo Petrucci, to be one of the leading forces in the artistic life of Siena in the late

Quattrocento.27 Despite Aringhieri’s prominence and the tremendous embellishment of Siena

Cathedral that was executed during his tenure as Operaio, the best and most recent sources for information on his life remain the brief biographies provided in dissertations by Aronow and

Silberger.28 This study offers a reappraisal of the life of Alberto Aringhieri that affirms his

significance in Sienese public affairs and the development of the Cathedral, and makes clear his role as patron of the chapel.

In a broader view of patronage issues, the limited discussion of the Knights Hospitallers

of Rhodes (Order of Saint John) in Thornton’s article underscores the pressing need for further

research into their artistic patronage considered fully in the context of the organization’s history,

aims, and devotional practices. A survey of the artistic heritage of the Italian Knights in their

individual commanderies was published by Elizabeth Schermerhorn some forty years ago; but, like much traditional Hospitaller literature, it is more travel guide than scholarly investigation, lacking serious historical or artistic criticism and riddled with errors.29 The history of the Order

written by H. J. A Sire in 1994 is notable as one of the first texts to integrate successfully a

consideration of the artistic legacy of the Knights; its broad scope, however, covering all of

Europe from the Middle Ages to the present, only allows for a general treatment of individual monuments with no attempt at an overview of patronage on a personal or corporate level.30

More pertinent, especially in terms of the Knights, their religious practices, and the art of late medieval Tuscany, have been the contributions of Anthony Luttrell, the leading expert on the

Hospitallers during their days on Rhodes and among the foremost historians of the Order of Saint

John.31 In his examination of the inclusion of Hospitallers in various paintings, Luttrell has stressed the Knights’ use of art, described as “visual crusading propaganda,” to support interest in their ultimate goal of retaking the Holy Land.32

In addition to a review of archival documentation for the chapel, this study focuses on the meaning and interpretation of the monument. Thus, the discussion is organized around specific concepts that emerge from a consideration of the chapel’s form and decorative program in relation to preceding tradition and the various audiences that this program was meant to address.

Chapter One presents a chronological overview of the chapel’s construction and decoration and

examines the architectural form and decorative ensemble as it relates to ritual function. After a review of the relic chapel as a type, several major Baptist reliquary shrines in Rome, Genoa, and

Florence are presented as models. The chapel’s possible functions as baptistery and funerary monument are then examined, as is the role of the intarsia panels and the semicircular bench as seating for singers. The second part of the chapter considers the architecture and decoration as a unit, and seeks to situate it in the history of similar decorative schemes by comparison with traditional multimedia altarpieces and saints’ niche shrines that combined iconic statuary with hagiographic paintings.

In Chapter Two, the significance of the chapel for Alberto Aringhieri and his noble family are analyzed. This begins with an outline of the history of the Aringhieri, both in their hometown of Casole d’Elsa and Siena, and continues with an exploration of their political activities and affiliations. This is followed by a more focused study of what is known about

Alberto, with some discussion of the decorative projects of Siena Cathedral that were pursued under his direction as Operaio. After reviewing evidence for a tradition of visual commemoration of prominent Aringhieri family members, the chapel is presented as the culmination of that tradition and as the sole cappella Aringhieri located in Siena. The significance of the chapel for the patron and his family is underscored by the new identification of the young knight in Pinturicchio’s portrait as Alberto Aringhieri’s son, Luzio.

Chapter Three argues for the importance of the chapel for the city of Siena. First, the classical style of the chapel façade is related to Siena’s Roman past, specifically the tradition of ancient triumphal arches and city gates, and the late fifteenth century codification of the city’s antiquity by Sienese humanists. Similarly, the inclusion of a statue of Saint Ansanus is interpreted as a visual promotion of the early Christian heritage of Siena. Then, the significance of the Baptist relic and the decision to associate it with Donatello’s bronze statue of the saint is

addressed in political terms, centering on the historic conflict between Siena and the artist’s

native city, Florence. The general populace could have viewed the chapel as a monument to

their city’s spiritual victory over the Florentines, whose patron saint was John the Baptist.

However, Aringhieri may have intended the use of the statue in the chapel to reflect the pro-

Florentine sentiment that was held by a small faction of the ruling class, including his own

family.

Chapter Four establishes the meaning of the chapel in the context of more international concerns. An introduction to the history and religious traditions of the

Knights Hospitallers serves as a foundation for a discussion of the Sienese Knights, including

Aringhieri, and their relation to the Cathedral chapel. Of utmost importance are the parallels that existed between the relic of the Baptist in Siena and a similar one on Rhodes. This link is explored in terms of the Sienese heritage of participation in the medieval Crusades in the Holy

Land, particularly in the taking of Antioch in 1098, and the crusading goals of both Pope Pius II and the Hospitallers themselves. Ultimately, Aringhieri’s patronage of the Sienese chapel, with its relic, is related to the military order’s traditional role as protectors of sacred sites and objects.

Specific elements of the decorative program of the chapel, such as the frescoed portraits and the inclusion of a statue of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, are connected to Hospitaller concerns and used to advance an interpretation of the monument as a local substitute for the Grand Master’s chapel on Rhodes where a second Baptist relic, held by the Order of Saint John, was housed.

The Epilogue reveals the enduring importance of the chapel of the Baptist beyond its completion in the early sixteenth century and its role in the continuous evolution of the decoration of Siena Cathedral by focusing on the monument’s refurbishment, sponsored by Pope

Alexander VII, between 1664 and 1665. After an outline of changes made to the chapel, the discussion explores Alexander’s possible motives for altering the shrine so it more closely

resembled his new Cappella del Voto (1659-1669), which housed the city’s most venerated icon of the Virgin directly across the transept. The Siena chapels are then related to a long tradition of paired chapels containing relics and miraculous images, with a particular emphasis on the

Cappella Sistina (begun 1585) and Cappella Paolina (begun 1605) in Santa Maria Maggiore in

Rome. The Pope’s connection to the Order of Saint John, both in his earlier diplomatic career and in terms of his family’s membership among the Knights Hospitallers, and his well-known obsession with family history are presented as personal motivation for his incorporation of a renovated chapel of the Baptist in his decorative contributions to the Cathedral.

The Epilogue is followed by a conclusion and two collections of documents. Appendix

A includes a transcription of documents that concern the construction and decoration of the chapel between 1482 and 1504. Appendix B is a compilation of both archival documents, such as Cathedral inventories, and subsequent literary sources that provide descriptions of the appearance of the chapel.

1. Often the relic and even the chapel itself have been closely associated with and viewed as donations from Pius II to his beloved Siena as seen, for example, in the inscription placed over the chapel’s entrance by Alexander VII to mark his renovation of the monument in 1664. See the Epilogue for the inscription. Documents published by Lusini refer to deliberations of the Sienese government concerning the purchase of the relic on 12 April 1464, with payment made on 5 May. See V. Lusini, Il Duomo di Siena, 2 vol. (Siena: Arti Grafiche S. Bernardino, 1939), 2: 94, no. 3.

2. The Pope was accompanied by Cardinals Giovanni Cervayes, Niccolo Forteguerri, Angelo Capranica, Giacomo Ammanati Piccolomini, Pier Luigi d’ Albret, Ricardo Olliver, Rodrigo Borgia, Giovanni Bessarion, along with communal officials and representatives of each terzo of the city. Lusini 2: 94 offers a brief account.

3. For the lost oration, see P. Craveri, “Bartolomeo Benvoglienti,” in Dizionario biografico degli italiani (Rome: Instituto della Enciclopedia Italiana, 1966), 8: 698.

4. The new reliquary, now housed in the Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo in Siena, was executed by the goldsmith Francesco d’ Antonio in the form of a casket and was used to enclose the ninth- century reliquary that arrived with the relic in 1464. For the new reliquary, see Luciano Bellosi, ed., Francesco di Giorgio e il Rinascimento a Siena 1450-1500 (Milan: Electa, 1993), 154-155; Lusini, 2:95-96. The Operaio in Siena was an elected, secular official, selected by the Sienese government for what was, from the early Quattrocento, a life term. His main task was to oversee both the maintenance and decoration of the Cathedral, and on some occasions other proscribed buildings and sites, such as the Cappella di Piazza and the church of Saint Ansanus in Castelvecchio. In return, the Operaio received an annual salary of 400 lire, knighthood, and was lodged in a large house just to the north of the Cathedral. He headed an Opera board of three other consiglieri, including a treasurer (carmarlingo), who acted as counselors. This group met twice a year to discuss budgetary matters, every month to consider new projects, and on a weekly basis to review work in progress. For the office of Operaio, see Gail Aronow, “A Documentary History of the Pavement Decoration in Siena Cathedral, 1362-1506” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1985), 15-17; Carl Brandon Strehlke, “Art and Culture in Renaissance Siena,” in Painting in Renaissance Siena 1420-1500, ed. Keith Christiansen, Laurence B. Kantor, and Carl Brandon Strehlke (New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1988), 43-46; and Henrietta S. Silberger, “The Iconology of the Massacre of the Innocents in Late Quattrocento Sienese Art” (Ph.D. diss., Case Western Reserve University, 1999), 238-239.

5. For a description of the dedication ceremony, see Sigismondo Tizio, Historiarum Senensium, 1506, BCS B.III.11, fol. 608 b-c.

6. For the most recent treatment of political and historical developments in Siena in the late fifteenth century, a tumultuous and confusing time marred by constant factional unrest, see Christine Shaw, “Politics and Institutional Innovation in Siena 1480-1498,” parts 1 and 2, Bullettino senese di storia patria 103 (1997): 9-102; 104 (1998): 194-307.

7. A brief overview of this issue is to be found in Deborah L. Kawsky, “The Survival, Revival, and Reappraisal of Artistic Tradition: Civic Art and Civic Identity in Quattrocento Siena” (Ph.D. diss., Princeton University, 1995), 1-6.

8. Alessandro Angelini, “Senesi a Urbino,” in Christiansen, 332-345.

9. Lusini, 2: 123-136.

10. Aronow, 20, no. 33.

11. Ibid., 18.

12. Enzo Carli, Il Duomo di Siena (Genoa: Sagep, 1979).

13. Alfonso Landi, ‘Racconto’ del Duomo di Siena, ed. Enzo Carli (Florence: Casa Editrice, 1992), 108-112.

14. For a critique of the series, see Richard J. Betts, review of Die Kirchen von Siena (vols.1 and 2), edited by Peter Anselm Riedl and Max Seidel, Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, 54 (September 1995): 373-375.

15. For Giovanni did Stefano, see Michael Kuhlenthal, “Das Grabmal Pietro Foscaris in S. Maria del Popolo in Rom, ein Werk des Giovanni di Stefano,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 26 (1982): 47-62; and Christiansen, 522. For Neroccio di Bartolomeo, see Gertrude Coor, Neroccio de’ Landi 1447-1500 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1961); and Christiansen, 526-527.

16. Enzo Carli, Il Pintoricchio (Milan: Electa, 1960), 66-68.

17. Joan Thornton, “Antonio di Neri Barili and the Chapel of St. John the Baptist in Siena Cathedral,” Apollo 99 (April 1974): 232-239; and Christiansen, 374-381.

18. E. M. Richter, “The Sculpture of Antonio Federighi” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1984).

19. V. Lusini, “Di alcune sculture in Duomo,” Rassegna d’ arte senese 9 (1913): 8-14.

20. Pèleo Bacci, “Giov. Lorenzo Bernini e la statua di Alessandro VII per il Duomo di Siena,” La Diana 6 (1931): 53; Monika Butzek, Il Duomo di Siena al tempo di Alessandro VII (Munich: Bruckmann, 1996).

21. Aronow, 1984.

22. See Bellosi and Christiansen, Kantor, and Strehlke above, note 4.

23. Diana Norman, Siena and the Virgin. Art and Politics in a Late Medieval City State (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999).

24. Thornton, 232-239.

25. Ibid., 239.

26. Shepherd’s contention that the real patron of the chapel was Cardinal Piccolomini, whose purpose was to parallel the shrine created by his uncle Pius II for the head of Saint Andrew in Rome, seems tantalizing at first glance. However, as Shepherd himself points out, there is a complete lack of evidence for any Piccolomini involvement in this project, while there is more than sufficient support to establish Alberto’s interest and abilities in such an undertaking. See.Gyde Vanier Gilbert Shepherd, “A Monument To Pope Pius II: Pintoricchio and Raphael in the Piccolomini Library, 1494-1508” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1993), 11-12.

27. Christiansen, 44.

28. Aronow, 1985, 208-210; Silberger, 239-44.

29. Elizabeth Schermerhorn, On the Trail of the Eight-Pointed Cross. A Study of the Heritage of the Knights Hospitallers in Feudal Europe (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1940), 342-378.

30. H. J. A. Sire, The Knights of Malta (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994).

31. Anthony Luttrell, The Hospitallers in Cyprus, Rhodes, Greece and the West 1291-1440 (London: Variorum, 1978); Idem, Latin Greece, the Hospitallers and the Crusades (London: Variorum, 1982); Idem, The Hospitallers of Rhodes and Their Mediterranean World (Aldershot, Great Britain: Variorum, 1992); Idem, “The Hospitallers of Rhodes Between Tuscany and Jerusalem: 1310-1431,” Revue Mabillon 3 (1992): 117-138.

32. Anthony Luttrell, “A Hospitaller in a Florentine Fresco: 1366/8,” Burlington Magazine 114 (June 1971): 362-366. It is the recent examination of Caravaggio’s Beheading of John the Baptist by David Stone, however, that offers the best model for evaluating the visual heritage of the Order on its own terms. See Stone, “The Context of Caravaggio’s ‘Beheading of St. John’ in Malta,” Burlington Magazine 139 (March 1997): 161-170. A more typical consideration of Knightly commissions is found in Lisbeth Castelnuovo-Tedesco, “A Late Gothic Sculpture from Italy: The Savona Altarpiece in the Cloisters,” in The Cloisters. Studies in Honor of the Fiftieth Anniversary, ed. Elizabeth C. Parker (New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1992), 447- 453.

14 CHAPTER ONE

THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST: FORM, FUNCTION, AND MEANING

As a monument that addressed several audiences, including its patron Alberto Aringhieri, the citizens of Siena, and the Knights Hospitaller of Rhodes, the chapel of the Baptist was by nature multivalent in meaning. One key to effectively communicating content to such a plurality of viewers lies in the design of the message, the fusion of function with universally recognizable form. Thus it is important to situate the chapel in the tradition of similarly planned and decorated structures that were well-known in the late fifteenth century.

After an overview of the construction and decoration of the chapel, this chapter will broadly consider its basic components, the architectural form and decorative scheme. An examination of the chapel's façade will reveal a reference to Roman honorific arches that acts as an introduction to key themes addressed in the chapel's interior. By exploring the various associations of the centralized plan, we shall see how the primary function of the chapel as reliquary shrine was expressed and augmented by secondary, symbolic functions, each supported by aspects of the decoration. The structured and integrated presentation of works in various media will be underscored as the major functional achievement of the chapel’s interior decoration. In the case of both the plan and decorative arrangement, the link between form, function, and meaning will be emphasized in an attempt to better comprehend the significance of the monument for its audiences.

15 The Chapel’s Construction and Decoration

Prior to proceeding with a detailed discussion of the sources and meaning of the chapel, it

is important to establish for the first time the chronological development of its construction and

decoration as revealed by the archival record.1 The process of planning that led to the beginning

of construction appears undocumented. Scholars have suggested that previous Operai (heads of

the Cathedral works board) before Aringhieri had intended to build a chapel for the relic, but

were delayed by other Cathedral projects. A significant notice comes from Alfonso Landi, who

mentions in his Racconto of 1655 that Aringhieri’s immediate predecessor as Operaio, Savino

Savini (1467-1480), set out to construct a chapel dedicated to Saint Ansanus on the very spot

where the Baptist’s chapel would be raised.2 Savini went as far as to order columns and capitals

of yellow marble that, with the subsequent abandonment of the project, were utilized later in the

façade of the chapel of the Baptist.3 Two twentieth-century scholars suggested, however, that it

was a chapel dedicated to the Baptist that was intended by Savini, and proposed that Cirpriano

Corti (1464-1467), Operaio at the time of the relic donation in 1464, first envisioned a chapel, but neither provides proof of this.4

No hard evidence exists, then, to confirm either previous initiation of a chapel or exactly when Aringhieri began to formulate his own plans for such a monument. This lack of evidence makes it difficult to consider whether or to what extent he was influenced by previously unrealized projects in his own conceptualization of the chapel’s form and decoration. As will be discussed further in Chapter Four, the events of the year of Alberto’s election as Operaio, 1480, and his membership in the Knights Hospitallers of Rhodes suggest that interest in such a project existed from Aringhieri’s first days in office.

16 The earliest known document that concerns the Baptist’s chapel in Siena Cathedral is dated to 14 April 1482, and refers to the acquisition of marble for the façade of “la cappella di S.

Giovanni” by Francesco di Niccolaio and Giovanni di Stefano, the Capomaestro of the Cathedral

Opera and the man in charge of the execution of the chapel project.5 Although construction proceeded slowly, the first of the components of the interior decoration was already commissioned in 1483 when on 16 January Antonio di Neri Barili was contracted to produce a set of intarsia panels.6 By late March 1484, Tino da Caimino's Tomb of Bishop Riccardo Petroni

(1318) had been moved from its original location in the north transept to the adjacent wall, allowing for the former site of the tomb to be open for the chapel's entrance.7 The transept wall was breached and the circular walls and dome of the chapel were well underway by summer of

1486.8 An increased pace of construction in this year may have been motivated by the donation on 28 February of 100 lire from the Sienese Balià, the city's most powerful governmental body.9

On 17 July 1487, Neroccio di Bartolomeo was commissioned to produce a marble statue of Saint Catherine of Alexandria for the chapel and a payment from 5 February 1488 indicates that work had begun on the sculpture by then.10 Although no documentation is known for

Giovanni di Stefano's marble sculpture of Saint Ansanus, it must have been complete by the time

Neroccio was engaged since his contract specified that the statue of Catherine should conform in its dimensions to that of the Saint Ansanus. Marble continued to be purchased in the 1490s as the sculpted façade began to take shape under the leadership of Lorenzo di Mariano, known as il

Marrina, who joined the workshop of the Opera by the middle of 1495.11 The completion of the façade can be dated to 1497 when a painter named Pietro di Giovanni was paid on 14 June for gold applied to a marble tondo of God the Father surrounded by six Seraphim placed above the chapel's arch.12 The architectural articulation of the chapel's interior, including cornices,

17 architraves, friezes, and pilasters was carried out by October 1499 and another payment to Pietro

di Giovanni on 20 November 1501 indicates that the dome was gilded by that time.13

Additional works of decoration were carried out in 1502 with payments made on 20 July and 15 October to the young painter Baldassare Peruzzi.14 His contributions to the chapel are still unclear, though it is possible he was responsible for painting the now-lost decorations on the dome. Barili's contract for the intarsia panels stipulated that work was to be completed in two years, but the project was protracted and the panels were not installed until 1502.15 Payments on

22 June and 20 July of that year show that the lantern of the chapel received windows and that a gilded bronze ball was placed atop the structure on the exterior.16 Bernardo di Benedetto, known as Pinturicchio, was employed to paint eight frescoes in the chapel, six depicting scenes from the life of the Baptist and two portraits, beginning in late 1503 or early 1504 during a break in his work on the Piccolomini Library also located in the Cathedral. Pinturicchio’s compensation for the completed frescoes was disbursed over almost two years, with payments made on 14 August of 1504, 16 January 1505, 19 September 1505, and 1 February 1506.17 On 21 August of 1508, the sculptors Giacomo Cozzarelli and Ventura di Ser Giuliano were paid for their appraisal of

Neroccio’s statue of Catherine of Alexandria, which is described as unfinished due to the death of the artist in 1500.18

By 1504, the chapel was sufficiently completed to allow for its dedication on 14 August.

A contemporary, Sigismondo Tizio, briefly describes this event in his Historiarum Senensium written between 1506 and 1528.19 Having removed the arm of the Baptist with great ceremony,

Alberto Aringhieri, along with the major Sienese magistrates, processed with the relic from the shrine where it was kept to the high altar of the Cathedral. This momentous occasion is made even more significant by the fact that the ceremony occurred on the day before the most important religious feast in Siena, the Assumption of the Virgin on August 15.20 Tizio makes

18 clear in his account that it was Aringhieri who was responsible for the construction and

decoration of the chapel. This is confirmed by the payment records of the chapel’s construction

and decoration that often mention Aringhieri by name (“per ordine di messer Alberto,” “per

polizza di miser Alberto”).21

Examined from a broader perspective, the documents associated with the chapel indicate

that the project was executed slowly over more than twenty years. Some of the decorative

elements, such as the wooden choir and the marble statue of Saint Catherine, were delayed due to

competing commitments of the artists involved. The major architectural and decorative elements

of the ensemble must have been conceived, if not commissioned, in the 1480s. The interior

decoration of the chapel was obviously a priority from the start, and the wooden choir with

intarsia panels was commissioned in 1483 even before the chapel was structurally complete.

Both of the marble statues were commissioned and, in the case of the Saint Ansanus, also

completed by 1487. The problematic question of exactly when other elements of the chapel’s

decoration and furnishing, including Donatello’s bronze statue of the Baptist and the marble font,

were incorporated into the scheme will be explored below.

Despite the delays and extended development, the chapel as seen on the day of its dedication in August of 1504 was surely a reflection of Aringhieri’s vision of the project: a monumental marble entryway leading into a highly decorated centrally-planned space, wooden choir stalls decorated with intarsia panels running around the lower zone, two marble statues in lateral niches and a bronze cult image in the central niche, eight frescoes framed by elaborate wood carvings, and a carved marble font, all beneath a painted dome above. It is this ensemble of architecture, painting, and sculpture, executed between the late fifteenth and early sixteenth century, that is analyzed in the present study.

19 The Chapel Façade as Roman Arch

The façade connects the chapel of the Baptist with the rest of the Cathedral. This link is

achieved physically in part through the particular architectural articulation and visually through the sculptural decoration employed and the meaningful reference to ancient Roman architecture that is embodied in the specific form of the facade. As we shall see, the façade of the chapel

provides an apt preface for the promotion of the early Christian heritage of the city that is also

addressed by the interior decoration.

The chapel’s façade is divided horizontally into two levels by a heavy cornice from

which a broad arch springs (Figures 3, 15). The lower level is articulated by two giallo senese columns of the Corinthian order set on high pedestals in ressault to either side of the arch (Figure

4). The pedestals are embellished with reliefs of rams and goats, with sphinxes and sirens

defining the corners. The right pedestal features on the side panels a nude horseman trampling

another nude male figure, Hercules battling the Nemean Lion, and a neried riding a triton, all

framed by fruit-filled garlands (Figures 9-11). The left pedestal also employs the same garlands and includes depictions of military shields as well as a ritual libation vessel (Figures 12-14).

Each column is echoed behind by layered pilasters that are richly carved (Figures 6-8). The outer pilasters show a series of stacked objects and figures, including vases, tripods, and hybrid human-animal beasts. Such decorative forms recall similar motifs painted in the Emperor Nero’s

Domus Aurea in Rome in the later 60s A.D.; these ancient paintings were discovered at the end of the fifteenth century and may have directly influenced the reliefs on the chapel façade. The central pilasters are covered with military arms and armor (including shields, helmets, and cuirasses), putti playing in a fountain, vases and cornucopia, and tritons. The inner pilasters are decorated with intricate, curving acanthus plants with buds, possibly poppies, and may reflect an

20 early knowledge of Augustan sculpture, such as the decoration of the Ara Pacis erected in Rome

between 13 and 9 B.C. A sculpted frieze runs around the entablature above the white marble

capitals (Figures 5, 17-18). Here a series of winged putti support a continuous garland heavy

with fruit. Between each pair of putti and above the garland swags are elements of military

armor, such as shields and helmet, along with satyr heads.

In the upper level of the facade, two piers composed of giallo senese and defined by Ionic

capitals are aligned vertically over the columns directly beneath (Figure 16). They are decorated

with reliefs of stacked objects similar to the outer pilasters in the first level. Likewise, the

pilasters behind the piers are carved with the same stacked vases and military arms and armor

found on the pilasters below. The arch between the piers is outlined by carved putti heads and

wings, and the spandrels are filled with wreath-bearing Victory figures (Figures 15, 19-20). A

second frieze occupies the entablature above the Ionic capitals. In this instance, putti with bowls

are depicted facing winged lions with griffin locks that place one paw on the vessel (Figure 21).

The depth of the entryway under the arch is covered by a barrel vault with coffers that are filled

with the heads and wings of putti (Figure 23). The sides of this passageway are embellished with

large, inlaid rectangular panels of colored marble (Figure 22).

In considering the form and meaning of the chapel’s façade, it is important to note that

there existed a long tradition of similar monumental chapel entryways. Early medieval

examples, such as the chapels of Saints John the Baptist and John the Evangelist (c. 465) in the

Lateran Baptistery and the chapel of Saint Zeno (ninth century) in Santa Prassede in Rome,

present relatively simple facades in which two ancient marble columns raised on pedestals

support a marble entablature above (Figures 57-58).22 Early Renaissance chapels often had more elaborately decorated portals that utilized an arched form. The chapel of John the Baptist in

21 Genoa, for example, makes use of a carved marble screen that has at the center a monumental arch. (Figure 59).

The monumental arched façade was known in Siena in one of the most visible and historic of the city’s civic and religious sites, the Cappella di Piazza, situated in front of the

Palazzo Pubblico. The chapel was begun in 1352 in thanksgiving to the Virgin for aid during the plague of 1348 and received its definitive form in the second half of the fifteenth century (Figure

60).23 This chapel did not incorporate an arch, however, until Antonio Federighi, Capomaestro of the Cathedral in the late Quattrocento, added an additional story to the structure between 1468 and 1470, establishing an arched opening on all four sides.24

Federighi’s employment of classical architectural forms and all’antica decorative motifs mark this edifice as a stylistic ancestor of the chapel in the Cathedral. In particular, the use of egg and dart moldings and the frieze of griffins above the arch on the Cappella di Piazza is echoed by similar elements on the facade of the Baptist’s chapel.25 These elements, when taken together with the arched shape of both structures, would have facilitated a visual connection between the two shrines, and the civic importance of the chapel in the Cathedral would have been underscored by means of comparison with an important public monument. It should be pointed out that Alberto Aringhieri’s duties as Operaio of the Cathedral would have included the supervision of any work carried out on the Cappella di Piazza and thus he would have been intimately familiar with this monument.26

The façade of the Baptist's chapel also focuses on a monumental arch, but unlike the earlier examples, the architectural reference is now made more specific to evoke an ancient

Roman honorific arch. These structures were erected by the Romans in the late Republican and

Imperial periods to honor individuals and/or specific events.27 The range of commemoration marked by such arches was broad; some were raised as funerary memorials or cenotaphs, others

22 as monuments to military victory, and several, particularly outside Rome, celebrated major building projects financed by the Emperor.

The reference of the chapel’s façade to ancient Rome honorary arches is established not only by virtue of its arched entryway, but also through the employment of specific architectural details and the generous use of all’antica motifs in its sculptural decoration. The façade’s single arcuated bay and attached architectural order (the flanking columns on pedestals and the piers above) recall a similar deployment of elements on the funerary Arch of the Sergii at Pola (29

B.C.-2 A.D.), the triumphal Arch of Titus (c. 81) at Rome, and the commemorative Arch of

Trajan at Benevento (114).28 The winged Victory figures with wreaths that decorate the spandrels on the chapel’s facade are comparable to similar figures on all of the aforementioned ancient arches (Figures 19-20). Other sculpted details on the facade, such as the cuirasses, shields, and helmets in the central pilasters, relate to the depiction of spoils, including arms and armor, taken as booty from an enemy defeated in battle. The triple-bayed Arch of Tiberius (20-

26) at Orange provides the best example of this, with heaps of confiscated shields and weapons carved above the smaller arches as well as on the flanks of the monument.29

The appearance of Victory figures and military paraphernalia, such as arms and armor, on the façade of the Baptist’s chapel relate it to a specific type of ancient honorific arch, namely the triumphal arch raised in Rome to mark both a major military victory and commemorate the triumphal procession that formed part of the accompanying celebration. Considering its form and function as outlined above, the Arch of Titus, erected to commemorate the Roman triumph over the Jews in Jerusalem in the 70s, can be posited as the primary architectural model for the chapel’s façade (Figure 61). Another important triumphal arch in Rome, that dedicated to

Constantine and his victory over Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge in 312, is important when considering any use of a Roman arch type in a Christian context. The Arch of Constantine

23 (traditionally dated to 312-15 but now thought to be Hadrianic) was tied inextricably to the early

Christian legacy of this Emperor’s support of the Church, and thus has been associated with the symbolic victory of Christianity over paganism (Figure 62). Therefore, while the facade of the chapel resembles the triple-bayed arch of Constantine only in the general application of an architectural order to an arcuated bay (columns on pedestals with piers above in the attic level),

Constantine's monument was a significant conceptual model that merged Roman triumphal function with important Christian meaning.

The triumphal reference of the chapel’s entranceway is reinforced by the strategic location of the façade in the Cathedral in close proximity to a figurative panel in the pavement depicting the expulsion of Herod Antipas from the Holy Land. The pavement and the chapel are further connected visually by friezes of lion-headed griffins that appears both in the border of the pavement and in relief in the entablature on the upper level of the façade. In the pavement, the posthumous victory of the Baptist over his enemies is expressed as the ultimate defeat of the family of his executioner Herod, representing the triumph of Christian ideals over the force of pagan threat. This victory is confirmed by the chapel’s arched entryway and its conceptual relation to the Arch of Constantine and the triumphant Christian past. The message of the façade taken with the adjacent scene prepares the visitor for what is encountered beyond the arch, namely the physical proof of Christian triumph, the powerful Baptist relic, and confirmation of

Siena’s historical connection to such a symbolic triumph.

The Chapel of the Baptist as Martyrium

The primary function of the chapel of the Baptist was as a reliquary shrine, a space

created for the right arm and hand of John the Baptist. The proof of this can be found in the

24 payment records of the chapel’s construction, which often mention “la cappella del braccio di

santo Giovanni.”30 Although scholars have always assumed this to be the case, one might

question the chapel’s function given that the relic does not appear to have been stored there on a

regular basis, at least not until the seventeenth century when an iron grating was inserted over the

central niche for at least temporary displays.31

Cathedral inventories reveal that the relic was housed in the central chapel of the sacristy

from 1467 through at least 1480.32 The inventories then make no further mention of the location of the relic until 1563 when the arm was in the “stanza dove sta il braccio di S. Giovanni.” This means that at some point between 1480 and 1563, the relic was transferred from the sacristy to a

new location, a small room adjacent to the entrance of the chapel of the Baptist now accessed

through two doors.33 Tizio’s account of the chapel’s dedication ceremony states that Aringhieri

also built an ancillary structure next to the chapel that was accessible from a door in the chapel of

Saint Sebastian and from the chapel of Saint Bernardino of Siena.34 The entrance to this

ancillary structure as described by Tizio corresponds to the present location of the two doors

leading into the room known to have housed the arm relic in the sixteenth century (Figure 63).

Aringhieri, therefore, must be responsible for having constructed this room. The storage of the

Baptist’s relic in a specially-built adjacent space constituted an original feature of his original

plans for the chapel.

Some idea of the rituals that were carried out in the chapel and that centered on the relic

can be gleaned from an eighteenth-century source. Girolamo Gigli, a Sienese chronicler whose

Diario sanese was published in 1723, describes the ceremonies surrounding the Baptist’s arm on the first Monday of Pentecost.35 After the singing of the Vespers, a young nobleman chosen by

the Balìa read praises of the Baptist from the pulpit. Then the Archbishop, along with the

Cathedral canons and the Operaio, proceeded to the chapel of the Baptist where he opened the

25 cassetta that housed the relic. Next the arm was carried by two acolytes to the pulpit where the

Archbishop, turning three times, used the relic to bless the people. It was then placed on the high

altar before being returned to the cassetta. This description indicates that the chapel of the

Baptist functioned as a special environment in which the relic would first be revealed to the

public and thus formed an important component of the rituals surrounding the arm.

The primary function of the chapel as reliquary shrine is supported by its architectural

form, a domed, centrally-planned space, which draws on a considerable and complicated

tradition of similarly-shaped and vaulted martyria that marked the graves of the saints in the

early Christian period.36 The archetype for these memorials was the Emperor Constantine’s

(312-337) Anastasis Rotunda built around 335 at the church of the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem

(Figure 64).37 Here the most significant of all Christian graves, that of Christ, was surrounded by a circular arrangement of six piers and twelve columns and three semicircular niches in the ambulatory, all covered by a vast dome.

Grabar has demonstrated how the specific architectural arrangement (centrally-planned space covered by a vault) of actual “relic-tombs” or graves of saints often came to be employed more widely to mark “relic-holy places” or reliquary shrines that symbolically represented a saint’s tomb but sheltered only a part of the body.38 The Roman church of Santo Stefano

Rotondo (468-483), for example, may have housed relics of this important saint and takes the form of a circular, domed martyrium. 39

It is important to note, however, that many of the centrally-planned, early Christian and medieval martyria that would have been well known in the fifteenth-century were cruciform rather than circular in shape. Prominent among these are the fifth-century chapels of Saints John the Baptist and John the Evangelist at the Lateran Baptistery (discussed further below) and the ninth-century chapel of Saint Zeno at Santa Prassede, all in Rome.40 The purely circular plan of

26 the chapel of the Baptist in Siena was relatively rare, pointing to a close symbolic association of its form with that of the ultimate martyrium, the Anastasis Rotunda in Jerusalem. The disposition of three semicircular statue niches in the chapel underscores this connection to the building marking the tomb of Christ. Indeed, the chapel is very similar to the famous Arculph plan of the Anastasis, dated to 670, which presents a generalized interpretation of the form expressed as a circle with three niches (Figure 65).41

Furthermore, the form of the Anastastis Rotunda may have held particular significance for Alberto Aringhieri as a member of the military Order of Saint John of Jerusalem (Knights

Hospitallers of Rhodes). Prior to being expelled from the Holy Land by the Turks in 1298, the

Order was responsible for attending to the tired and sick pilgrims who traveled to visit Christ’s tomb at the Holy Sepulcher. Krautheimer, in his discussion of medieval copies of the Anastasis

Rotunda, has aptly noted that many of the churches built by the Knights throughout Europe are dedicated to the Holy Sepulcher and are circular in form, directly imitating the tomb of Christ.42

While the Anastasis Rotunda should be considered the primary model for the chapel’s basic form, there is another important building germane to this discussion of centrally-planned martyria and reliquary shrines, namely the Pantheon in Rome. This ancient Roman temple was completed around 125 during the reign of the Emperor Hadrian and subsequently consecrated by

Pope Boniface IV (608-615) as the Christian church of Santa Maria ad Martyres in 609. 43 The

Pantheon’s transformation into a martyrium was achieved through the legendary transfer to the building of twenty-eight wagon loads of martyrs’ bones from the catacombs. The circular plan and large dome of this building establishes it as a formal model for the chapel of the Baptist, but it is the Pantheon’s status as a converted pagan temple that makes it an important prototype for the Sienese shrine. Much of the decoration of the chapel is similarly appropriated from the visual vocabulary of the ancient Roman world.

27 Interest among fifteenth-century architects and patrons in centrally-planned and vaulted

shrines of Roman pagan and early Christian origin is reflected in contemporary architectural

theory and general church additions undertaken in Quattrocento Italy. As Wittkower has pointed

out, Renaissance architects believed that the vast majority of centrally-planned ruins were

ancient temples and that many early Christian structures of the same shape, including Santo

Stefano Rotondo and the Lateran Baptistery, had, like the Pantheon, been converted to Christian

use in the earliest days of Christianity.44 Thus it was deemed appropriate, at least by an architectural theorist like Leon Battista Alberti, to employ the centralized plan for churches. In the process, the important historical period when the Emperor Constantine united the Imperial glory of the Roman Empire with the religious beliefs of the Christians would be symbolically evoked.45

Early Renaissance interest in centrally-planned and vaulted structures as architectural models for ecclesiastical architecture often specifically focused on early Christian and medieval martyria, including those pagan temples thought to have been subsequently consecrated. Notable projects, like Filippo Brunelleschi’s church of Santa Maria degli Angeli (begun 1434) and

Alberti’s choir (1470) for the church of Santissima Annunziata in Florence, were clearly influenced by the Pantheon and the Temple of Minerva Medica.46 Alberti’s cruciform church of

San Sebastiano in Mantua likewise reflects the similarly planned martyria in Rome mentioned above.47 A focus on earlier buildings was spurred by the renovation of many of these ancient foundations. In Rome, for example, Pope Nicholas V (1447-1455) undertook renovations at

Santo Stefano Rotondo and Pope Pius II (1458-1464) made alterations to the Pantheon.48

This does not mean, however, that the centrally-planned church was universally accepted in the early Renaissance. In fact, the number of such structures built at this time are relatively few and limited roughly to the years between 1490 and 1530.49 This seems to be due in part to

28 practical concerns of liturgical requirements but also because pagan models were utilized and

held to be inappropriate, particularly by some of the clergy responsible for local projects. The

result was that the use of the centralized plan, with a few notable exceptions, was restricted to

chapels, small shrines, or other additions to churches. The chapel of the Baptist reflects the

limited use of this type of plan and perpetuates its underlying significance as a link to the early

Christian heritage.

As demonstrated above, the centralized plan and dome of the Baptist’s chapel in Siena is

highly evocative of early Christian sources for its most essential aspect, the physical definition of

its space. Beyond a general tradition of martyria as originally built and as reinterpreted in

fifteenth-century religious structures, however, the chapel of the Baptist should also be

considered in relation to the cult of John the Baptist and to other reliquary chapels built for his

remains. Three Italian examples, ranging from the early Christian period to the mid-fifteenth

century, will provide valuable insight for understanding the Sienese chapel in this respect. These

structures include the chapel of the Baptist in the Lateran Baptistery at Rome, the Florentine

Baptistery, and the chapel of the Baptist in the San Lorenzo in Genoa.

The fifth-century chapel of John the Baptist in the Lateran Baptistery in Rome was one of

a pair of chapels, the other being dedicated to John the Evangelist, built around the building’s

central core by the early Christian Pope Hilarius (461-468) (Figure 57).50 The chapel seems to have taken a cruciform shape, although its exact appearance in the Middle Ages and Renaissance is difficult to ascertain due to several refurbishments.51 In the sixteenth century, Onofrio

Panvinio described the shrine as containing a marble altar covered by a vault supported in the corners by four columns, three of alabaster and one of marble.52 Today, the entrance is still flanked by two porphyry columns supporting an entablature made of a reused classical architectural fragment. From engravings of the interior, we know that the lost golden mosaics of

29 the vault depicted in the center the Lamb of God framed by a wreath of seasonal fruits and

flowers; similar garlands hanging from fictive corner posts spread across the vault.53 Peacocks,

doves, partridges, parrots, lilies, and acanthus were also represented here. Three apses, or

niches, were set into the wall below, and a wooden statue of the John the Baptist, attributed in

the late sixteenth century to Donatello, was also part of the chapel’s decoration, probably

ensconced in the central niche like its bronze replacement is today.54

Although other functions have been suggested, Mackie has concluded that the chapels of

Saints John the Evangelist and John the Baptist were erected by Hilarius as reliquary shrines, and

thus are personal votive offerings from the Pope himself.55 Indeed, the long list of Baptist relics

known to have been at the Lateran in the Middle Ages makes the chapel of the Baptist there the

most significant early site for veneration of the remains of the Precursor in Italy. These relics

included hairs from the Baptist’s beard, drops of his blood, a tooth, some of his ashes, and his

camel hair garment.56 The importance of the reliquary chapel of the Baptist at the Lateran

Baptistery is amplified by its physical association with an active baptismal font in the center of the main structure. Indeed, Mackie has make a connection between the funerary nature of the chapel’s vault decoration and a visionary experience of the idyllic dome of Heaven and the state of Paradise regained on earth by neophytes after receiving the sacrament of Baptism. 57

The chapel of the Baptist at the Lateran is significant in relation to the chapel in Siena in a number of ways. The Sienese chapel, while centrally-planned, does also incorporate three

niches with a statue of the Baptist known to have been executed by Donatello. The general

layout of the Roman chapel and its use of a cult image associated with Donatello may be recalled

in some aspects of the later chapel. The employment of mosaics in the vault is important when it

is noted, as discussed further below, that Pinturicchio’s paintings of the life of Baptist imitate

that same medium. The use of marble columns and spolia, with their inherent reference to

30 Roman antiquity, in the Lateran chapel is likewise echoed in the giallo senese columns and ancient motifs on the chapel’s façade in Siena. Finally, the symbolic relationship between baptistery and reliquary shrine is established at an early date in this monument. Beyond the specific formal and structural similarities, the Lateran chapel provides a powerful model from the early Christian period, one with specific ties to the Emperor Constantine, who was thought to have been baptized on that site.58

The Florentine Baptistery was not built originally as a reliquary shrine, but came to be associated with relics of Saint John the Baptist as the locus of civic pride and devotion in

Florence (Figure 66). Although the baptistery was dedicated by Pope Nicholas II (1058-1061) in

1059, Florentine chroniclers of the late Middle Ages believed that the structure had been a

Roman temple dedicated to Mars that was subsequently consecrated and dedicated to Saint John the Baptist in the fourth century.59 The building is octagonal, in keeping with the traditional centrally planned shape of baptisteries, and is crowned with a vault covered in mosaics that depict, among other subjects, the Last Judgment, the life of Christ, and the life of John the

Baptist. The center of the building was occupied by an octagonal baptismal font. A thirteenth- century addition of a rectangular space to the west allowed for installation of a permanent altar.

The baptistery is known to have housed the most prestigious collection of relics in

Florence in the late Middle Ages, including a piece of the True Cross and remains of Saints

Barnabas and Philip.60 Relics of the Baptist, however, do not appear in the Florentine Baptistery or anywhere in the city for that matter until 1393.61 Indeed, the acceptance of John the Baptist as the principle Florentine patron saint and defender seems to have occurred only after the establishment of the city-state in the twelfth century.62 For Giovanni Villani, however, writing in the Trecento, the veneration of the Baptist in Florence was contemporary with Constantine’s

Edict of Milan in 312 and the triumph of Christianity over paganism. 63

31 The Florentine collection of Baptist relics grew rapidly between the late fourteenth and mid-fifteenth century; all but one, a thumb willed to the Cathedral by Cardinal Piero Corsini who died in 1405, were housed in the Baptistery of San Giovanni.64 Until 1557, the majority of these were kept in the confessio under the Baptistery’s high altar and were brought out and displayed on a silver altar on major feast days of the saint, most notably that of his birth on 24 June.65 The silver altar known as the Paliotto (1367-1477) was decorated with relief scenes from the life of the Baptist by a team of artists that included Michelozzo, Andrea del Verocchio, and Antonio

Pollaiuolo (Figure 67).66 The altar was placed over the font in the middle of the Baptistery, thus becoming an impressive focal point for veneration of the Baptist’s relics on the most important civic and religious day of the year in Florence.

The connection between reliquary shrine and baptistery that was implied at the Lateran

Baptistery was made palpable in the Florentine Baptistery when the saint’s relics were displayed on the Paliotto set over the font, the same basin used to initiate the city’s populace into the spiritual and civic community. For the Florentines, their Baptist relics signified both the redemption offered by the sacrament of baptism (and the importance of the saint in its institution) and sacred proof of John’s role as patron and defender of their city. As will be discussed below, the political resonance of the latter idea is significant for a consideration of the

Baptist’s chapel in Siena, the traditional arch enemy of the Florentine state.

The chapel of the Baptist in the church of San Lorenzo in Genoa is another major Baptist reliquary shrine, one that is closer in date to the chapel in Siena and one that provides further proof of the civic connection between saints, their relics, and the chapels that housed them

(Figure 59).67 Initially built and decorated from the 1450s to the 1470s, the chapel in San

Lorenzo was erected specifically to house the ashes of the Baptist that were brought back from the Holy Land by returning Genoese crusaders in 1098.68 Subsequent alteration has drastically

32 changed the disposition of the chapel’s ground plan, but it seems to have originally been rectangular in shape with barrel vaults to the sides and a centralizing dome above, much like

Brunelleschi’s Pazzi Chapel (commissioned 1429) in Florence to which it has been compared.69

Most notable is the richly carved façade of the chapel that is composed of a monumental stone serliana supported by four columns that display four reliefs with scenes drawn from the life of the Baptist. Above, among late Gothic architectural forms, are eleven standing marble figures attributed to Domenico Gagini and his workshop. Represented here are the Virgin; Hope,

Fidelity, Fortitude, Temperance and Prudence; and Saints John the Baptist, George, Sebastian,

Siro, and Lawrence. The interior walls of the chapel were painted in fresco by Vincenzo Foppo in two campaigns of the early 1460s and the early 1470s. We are certain that he painted a depiction of God the Father in the dome, but the subject of the wall frescoes, now lost, are not known, though it has been assumed that they represented episodes form the life of the Baptist.

Likewise the subject of Giovanni Mazone's 1463 altarpiece for the chapel remains a mystery.

Refurbishment in the late 1490s altered the original disposition of the chapel's interior decoration. The frescoed walls were covered with marble and decorated with reliefs by

Giovanni d’Aria and Gerolamo Viscardi and statues by Matteo Civitali and Andrea Sansovino.70

The growing devotion to the Baptist's ashes among the Genoese in the Middle Ages led to the creation in 1299 of the Confraternità di San Giovanni Battista, which sponsored the building of the new fifteenth-century chapel in the Cathedral.71 The placement of the relic in

Genoa's most prominent church is appropriate as the Baptist, along with Saint George, was a major patron saint of the city. On the feast day of the Baptist, the Doge and other prominent officials participated in the procession of the saint’s ashes and the offering of a gold sphere to the altar in the chapel.72 The civic importance of the saint and the chapel is underscored by the participation in these rituals of the city’s highest magistrates. Indeed, as Pincus has pointed out,

33 the reliquary chapel of the Baptist in San Lorenzo came to be associated with the success of

Genoa in that war trophies were commonly displayed there after major military victories.73

Beyond these examples in Rome, Florence, and Genoa that provide the peninsula-wide

context for the chapel, the monument must be understood in relation to other major reliquary

shrines in the city of Siena. The great collection of Passion relics purchased in 1359 by the

Ospedale di Santa Maria della Scala located directly across from the Cathedral was housed in a

traditional arliquiera, or wooden cabinet with two large doors (Figure 68).74 Painted by

Vecchietta in 1444, this cabinet featured on the exterior an encyclopedic display of the city’s

four patron saints along with numerous other local beati.75 The interior was decorated with scenes from the Legend of the True Cross in keeping with the contents of the cabinet.

In the early Renaissance, the arliquiera was displayed in a sacristy built on a rectangular plan in the 1440s by Ospedale rector Giovanni Buzzichelli especially for the relics. Vecchietta was again called on to decorate the space with a complicated series of large frescoes depicting scenes from the Old Testament, the life of Christ, and Articles of the Creed.76 With the completion of the frescoes in 1449, the relics, when the cabinet doors were opened on major feast days, became the central focus of a decorative ensemble that featured hagiographic and typological subjects.77 Access to this space, however, was limited and most of the populace viewed the relics and their decorative surrounds through two arched windows that looked onto the piazza.78 This arrangement was short lived, however, as in 1478 the relics were moved to the

Ospedale’s church and placed prominently near the high altar in a new tabernacle consisting of columns supporting a painted canopy.79 In both configurations, the relic and its container was the central focus of the display.

The most famous Renaissance reliquary shrine in the city, that of Saint Catherine of

Siena in San Domenico, also focused directly on a venerable relic (Figure 69).80 The chapel was

34 added to the west flank of the church in the 1460s shortly after Catherine’s canonization in 1461.

Financed by the apostolic secretary Niccolo Benzi, the square, domed shrine was created to house and permanently display Catherine’s head, which had been brought back to Siena from

Rome in 1384 by Raymond of Capua, the saint’s spiritual advisor.81 The chapel’s arched entryway frames the centerpiece of the shrine, a marble altar with a reliquary tabernacle that was completed in 1469 and situated against the back wall. Catherine’s head is still visible today behind a metal grill flanked by two angels holding candelabra (Figure 70). Above is a sculpted bust of the saint in a scalloped niche surrounded by the heads of putti. Based on our current knowledge of this monument, it appears that the marble altar and tabernacle were the only major decorative components of the chapel finished prior to the end of the fifteenth century.82

Like the sacristy in the Ospedale di Santa Maria della Scala and unlike the monument dedicated to the Baptist in the Cathedral, the chapel of Saint Catherine of Siena centered on its relic and its decoration in the form of the marble tabernacle was designed specifically to emphasize the dramatic display of the head. Other aspects of the chapel, however, do appear similar to the Cathedral chapel and suggest some influence of Catherine’s shrine on that of the

Baptist. Both chapels were designed as a centrally-planned space covered by a dome, and the putti heads around the entrance arch of the chapel of the Baptist parallel the use of the same motif above the reliquary grill on Catherine’s tabernacle (Figures 15, 19-20, 70). Similarly, the colored marble inlays in the walls of the entrance passageway of the chapel of the Baptist resemble comparable inlays on the front and sides of the chapel altar in San Domenico (Figures

22, 69). The sculpted ribbons with hanging fruit that flank either side of the tabernacle also appear to be copied in the decoration of the façade of the Baptist’s chapel (Figures 11,14, 70).

These similarities, which add a colorful, festive quality to the shirens, are not surprising to find considering that Giovanni di Stefano, the Cathedral Capomaestro who directed the

35 execution of the chapel of the Baptist, also designed the altar and tabernacle of the chapel of

Saint Catherine. Given the prominence of Catherine in late fifteenth-century Siena, however, one can argue for a more significant meaning behind even the most minute similarity between the two shrines. By the time the Baptist’s chapel was underway in the 1480s, Catherine, like

Saint Bernardino, had taken her place alongside the four traditional santi avvocati as a major holy patron of the city.83 Her chapel had become not only a focus of religious devotion, but also a point of civic pride as arguably the most prominent saint’s shrine in Siena. The Cathedral’s lack of a relic of the saint was apparently such a concern that on 19 April 1466, just as

Catherine’s chapel was being erected, two canons petitioned Pope Paul II (1464-1471) for some of her remains.84 The erection of chapel of the Baptist, in one sense then, can be seen as an attempt to endow the Cathedral with an equally splendid reliquary shrine, albeit more than twenty years later. By making reference to the older chapel, the general form and decoration of the chapel of the Baptist encouraged viewers to equate the two shrines and helped establish the

Cathedral monument as an equally significant locus of religious and civic importance.

As discussed here, the architectural form of the chapel of the Baptist in Siena continues long-established traditions associated with reliquary shrines. The chapel’s centralized plan and dome reflect the well-known and imitated configuration of early Christian and medieval martyria, particularly the Anastastis Rotunda and the Pantheon. It draws as well on the legacy of other Italian reliquary shrines dedicated to the Baptist in Rome, Florence, and Genoa, all of which are centrally-planned, vaulted, and highly decorated. In form and some aspects of its decoration, the chapel also solicited comparison with Siena’s most prominent reliquary shrine, the Chapel of Saint Catherine in the church of San Domenico.

36 The Chapel of the Baptist as Baptistery

One of the most problematic elements of the chapel’s furnishings is the octagonal marble

font that occupies the center of the space, directly beneath the dome. Basic questions regarding

the exact function of the basin, its date of placement in the chapel’s interior, and its relationship

to a marble altar mentioned in archival sources have received little attention (Figures 47-56). No

documents record the commissioning of a new font for the chapel or the transfer of a preexisting

one into the space, as some have claimed.85 Indeed, the earliest explicit reference to a font in the chapel comes in the pastoral visitation of G. Bossio in 1575 where it is described as a “vas marmoreum.”86 Cathedral inventories from 1591 and 1601 state that the marble font was covered with a wooden top to provide an appropriate surface (“tavola”) for an altar.87 This temporary arrangement must have been installed for the two masses, that according to Bossio, were celebrated in the chapel each year.88

Inventories from 1500, 1505, and 1536 indicate that an altar made of marble was in the chapel, but make no mention of the font.89 As there is no extant physical evidence for the placement of a permanent marble altar in the chapel, it is possible that the altar referred to in the inventories reflects an earlier instance of the same arrangement of covered font. If this is the case, then the basin was in the chapel at least from 1500. Wooden altars were rare, but the covering of a baptismal font to create an altar in baptisteries has ample precendent. The placement of the Paliotto over the font in the Florentine Baptistery on certain feast days is an important example. Indeed, it is this type of configuration, where the entire font is covered, rather than simply topped to provide a flat surface, that is shown in a drawing of the Baptist’s chapel interior from March 1663 (Figure 71). Given the minimal descriptions of the chapel’s contents in the early inventories and the fact that Mass may have been said only twice a year, it is

37 reasonable to assume that a similar portable altar was placed over the font at certain times. If this altar was in place when the inventories were taken, it would have obscured the basin, which would explain why it is not mentioned. The style of the reliefs on the font, furthermore, has been used to date it to the late fifteenth century. Distinct similarities between the all’antica motifs on the font’s base and forms carved on the chapel’s facade.90 This suggests that the marble basin was created at the same time as the chapel, and thus it should be considered an integral part of

Aringhieri’s original plans.

No archival records indicate that baptisms were ever performed in the chapel. This is not surprising, however, since the main Sienese baptistery was located nearby in a separate building beneath the church’s apse. According to Bossio, the font in the Baptist’s chapel was filled with water blessed on the night of Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. The holy water was kept in the chapel’s basin until Pentecost, when it was distributed to the parishes for aspersion of the houses.91 The benediction of the water was attended by the sacristan and the canons who sang the litanies fifteen times.

Although the font seems not to have been used actively for baptisms, its function, as described by Bossio, links the basin closely to this important sacrament. The blessing of the font’s water on Holy Saturday relates to the traditional blessing of the font and the baptism of the catechumens carried out on this day.92 Other holy water used for ablutions upon entering the church was blessed at a different time, customarily on the night before Epiphany and the first day of each month. Baptismal water was also blessed on the eve of Pentecost, and at that time, as well as on Holy Saturday, the faithful were allowed to remove some of the liquid before it was mixed with the holy chrism. Because of its use in Baptism, this holy water was thought to be especially free from corruption and was thus sought after for its curative and protective powers.93

38 The distribution of holy water from the chapel’s font to all the parishes on Pentecost

makes clear the association between the shrine’s primary function as a reliquary chapel and the

function of the font, for the relic was venerated on the first Monday of Pentecost.94 Pentecost commemorates the descent of the Holy Spirit upon the Apostles fifty days after Easter and draws specific parallels with John’s baptism of Christ in the Jordan River when He fully received the

Holy Spirit.95 This sacred moment initiated the sacrament of baptism and it was John’s right arm and hand, the relic associated with the chapel, that carried out the original ritual.

The importance of Baptism and Pentecost is further stressed by the depiction in the chapel of Saint Ansanus, represented in Giovanni di Stefano’s statue and a lost intarsia panel by

Antonio Barili. The feast of Pentecost also represents the first official occasion when the general populace was baptized, and it was Ansanus who was the first to baptize the pagan Sienese in the early third century.96 Significantly, the relic of the right arm of Saint Ansanus was venerated in

Siena Cathedral on the Tuesday of Pentecost. The city-wide distribution of holy water from the chapel’s font during this feast would have recalled Ansanus’ primary legacy as baptizer of the

Sienese.

The shape and decoration of the chapel’s marble font also alludes to the sacrament of

Baptism. The octagonal form of the basin recalls the traditional shape of baptismal fonts and baptisteries.97 The famous eight-sided baptismal font in the Sienese baptistery, produced in the

1420s and 1430s by a team of artist including Donatello, Ghiberti, and Jacopo della Quercia is a pertinent example (Figure 72).98 Furthermore, the eight relief panels on the sides of the font in the chapel and the carvings that decorate its sides use biblical and mythological subjects to explicate the important role of Baptism in every Christian’s life.

Six of the side reliefs depict scenes from the Book of Genesis: the Creation of Adam, the

Creation of Eve, Eve Tempted By The Devil, Adam Tempted by Eve, God Reproaching Adam

39 and Eve for their Sin, and the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden (Figures 49-54). Richter has

pointed out that these images reveal the beginnings of original and emphasizes the need for

expiation, provided ritually through the sacrament of Baptism. 99 The other two relief panels

represent episodes from the labors of the legendary Classical hero Hercules (Figures 55-56).

This hero’s struggles against monstrous enemies, seen on the font in the Hercules and the

Nemean Lion and the Hercules Battling Nessus, has been compared to the trials endured by

Christ who, like Hercules, was ultimately rewarded with eternal life.100 Hercules was also an ideal model for mortals who saw in his example the possibility for redemption from sin, especially the hubris that had precipitated original sin.101 Thus, the font’s key iconographical themes are the Fall of mankind and the promise of redemption, the ultimate effect of Baptism.

Redemption has also been read as the underlying theme of the other all’antica motifs carved on the font’s base.102 Among the images are putti armed with tridents and straddling dolphins who are engaged in mock sea battles (beneath the Eve Tempted By the Devil and Hercules and the

Nemean Lion); hunters involved in a chase (beneath Adam Tempted By Eve); putti cavorting with nereids and tritons (beneath God Reproaching Adam and Eve for their Sin); and two winged lions facing one another across an urn (beneath the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden) (Figures

51-55). Similar putti and winged lions with griffin locks appear on the chapel’s façade in both the sculpted friezes and on the densely decorated pilasters, as well as in the border of the pavement before the chapel’s entryway. Richter has interpreted these subjects on the font as reflective of mankind’s continuous struggle against its more bestial nature to recoup the grace lost with original sin that can be regained through Baptism. 103 This redemptive theme is especially obvious in the coupling of the relief panel of the Expulsion from the Garden of Eden with the paired, winged lions similar to griffins in the base below. Griffins were symbolically

40 associated with the future redemption of Christ, the ultimate resolution of the Fall that resulted in

mankind’s expulsion from Paradise.104

The centralized plan of the chapel itself should be associated not only with martyria, as

noted above, but also baptisteries that were traditionally circular or octagonal in shape. Although

lacking a characteristic ambulatory, the chapel with its font beneath a dome recalls innumerable

similar arrangements in early Christian and medieval baptisteries, like the octagonal Lateran

Baptistery, the Florentine Baptistery, and the circular baptistery of Pisa (begun 1152).105 It is

important to note, in the context of this discussion, that the Pantheon, as a parish church from at

least the tenth century, featured a baptismal font in the second chapel to the right of the entrance.106

Considering the form and function of both the marble font and the monument itself as outlined here, the chapel of the Baptist can be interpreted symbolically as a baptistery. Although as far as we know baptisms were never conducted in the chapel, the font’s use and decoration nonetheless stress the themes of purification and redemption central to the theology of the sacrament. This message was underscored by the presence of the relic of John the Baptist that

provided a concrete link to other important baptisteries with significant relics of the Precursor,

like those at the Lateran and in Florence.

The Chapel of the Baptist as Sepulcher

The theme of redemption associated with baptism and baptismal fonts leads to the

question of the chapel’s possible symbolic function as sepulcher as well as baptistery. We know

from seventeenth-century literary sources that at some point after 1506 Alberto Aringhieri was

interred beneath the inscription set into the pavement immediately in front of the chapel’s

41 entryway. The question is whether he planned from the start to the use the chapel as the backdrop for his final resting place as well as a reliquary shrine? While there is no archival evidence to support this idea, the architectural form and decoration of the chapel is rich with funerary content and suggests that the monument was also meant to be considered in sepulchral terms.

The centralized, domed plan of the chapel elicits comparison with well-known early

Christian tombs that included, as a subspecies, martyria. The shape of these monuments seems to have been influenced in part by circular Imperial tombs like those of Augustus (27 B.C.-14

A.D.) and Hadrian (117-138) in Rome, and further east, of Diocletian (285-305) at Split and

Galerius (305-10) at Thessaloniki.107 In the case of the latter two, the structures were subsequently consecrated as Christian churches. Members of Constantine’s family were buried in chapels built on the traditional pagan centralized plan and became important models for subsequent Christian funerary architecture.108 The circular shrine of Santa Costanza (350) in

Rome, dedicated to the daughter of Constantine, may have been the most influential among this group of sepulchers. The Anastasis Rotunda, posited above as the primary model for the chapel’s plan, draws on the same Roman Imperial funerary sources in its form. 109

As we have seen, the chapel’s centralized plan and font also relate it to baptism and baptisteries, both of which were understood in sepulchral terms. Indeed, baptisteries were formally linked in their centralized shapes to ancient mausolea. The baptistery of Pisa in particular has been described by Krautheimer as a copy of the Anastasis Rotunda.110 A strong connection between baptism and the Anastasis in baptismal rites at Easter in Jerusalem developed in the fourth century, and continued into the later Middle Ages, when John the Baptist was often linked as a co-patron to churches dedicated to the Holy Sepulcher.111 In its basic architectural form of centralized plan with dome and its actual and symbolic functions as

42 martyrium and baptistery, the chapel of the Baptist conflated two important building types

related to Christian funerary theology.

Furthermore, the transformation of the chapel’s font into an altar, which is symbolic of the tomb of Christ, is relevant to the discussion of the chapel’s funerary symbolism and the promise of salvation after death. The combination of the font and the altar is highly suggestive of the important place of Baptism, and thus John the Baptist, in the Christian path to salvation. If

Baptism was the initial cleansing of the soul, then the Eucharist, centered on the altar and the ritual of Mass, was the ultimate purging of sin, achieved through the crucifixion of Christ. As

laid out by Paul in Romans 6:3-4, the sacrament of Baptism was understood as a ritual of death

and rebirth in Christ by means of the purifying waters and acceptance of the Holy Spirit,

paralleling His death and resurrection.112

It is significant that the basic theological relationship between baptism and the Eucharist

was prominently expressed in Siena’s main baptismal font (Figure 72).113 Ringed by bronze

reliefs depicting scenes from the life of the Baptist, the font is topped with a marble sacrament

tabernacle, customarily used to house the consecrated host. The blessing of water in Aringhieri's

chapel font on Holy Saturday, the night before Christ’s resurrection, makes explicit the

redemptive nature of both baptism and the remembrance of His sacrifice, the Eucharist.

Further evidence of the sepulchral connotations of the Baptist's chapel can be found in

the classical motifs prominently employed on the façade that had well known funerary

associations in antiquity. The sculpture on the column pedestals that define the entrance, for

example, indicate that they were inspired by ancient Roman funerary altars. Both pedestal are

carved on all three sides with fruit-laden garlands suspended from the heads of either rams (right pedestal) or goats (left pedestal) that appear at the top of each corner (Figures 9-14). The lower corners are occupied by griffins on the right pedestal and sphinxes on the left, respectively.

43 Various objects and scenes are framed between the curving garlands and the architectural

moldings at the top of each pedestal. These include, on the right pedestal, a nereid riding on the

back of a triton, Hercules with the Nemean Lion over his back, and a nude horseman with a club

trampling another nude male figure under foot (Figures 9-11). On the left pedestal are sculpted

military weapons and armor, specifically shields and spears, as well as a ritual libation bowl, a

patera (Figures 12-14).

These all’antica details allow us to identify the exact species of Roman funerary altar referenced in the chapel’s pedestals. Commonly produced in the second century, this type is generally characterized by fronts carved with garlands of fruit, sides with ritual pateras and pitchers, corners bounded on top by the heads of rams and on the bottom by griffins and sirens, and inscriptions or portraits referring to the deceased (Figure 73).114 The original funerary function of ancient Roman altars was well known in the Renaissance and the form of the chapel’s pedestals could have been chosen specifically by Aringhieri with the idea of his eventual entombment close by.115

Funerary imagery is also present in the decoration of the upper levels of the chapel’s façade. The lower of the two friezes features a series of standing putti supporting garlands that frame military armor, such as helmets and shields, and satyr masks (Figures 17, 18). These forms are derived from a class of ancient Roman Imperial sarcophagus produced in the mid- second to third century that was widely imitated in funerary monuments across the Roman world

(Figure 74). The mausoleum of Diocletian at Split, for example, features a garland frieze of putti with satyr heads beneath the entablature of its upper order. The same motif was commonly utilized in fifteenth-century Italian tomb sculpture.116 Similar garland-bearing putti appear on

Jacopo della Quercia’s monument (1406) to Illaria del Carretto in the Cathedral in Lucca; on the

Florentine tombs (1446-1447, 1453-1464) of Leonardo Bruni by Bernardo Rossellino and Carlo

44 Marsuppini by Desiderio da Settignano in Santa Croce; and on the Roman sepulcher (1475) of

Cardinal Pietro Riario sculpted by Andrea Bregno in Santissima Apostoli (Figure 75).117

Similarly, the frieze on the upper level of the chapel’s façade carries funerary connotations. There a series of putti face winged lions with griffin locks that rest one paw on a large bowl (Figure 21). Comparable images can be found on ancient sarcophagi and relief carvings with a direct reference to Bacchus, the god of wine whose mystery cult held promise of an afterlife (Figure 76). Huskinson has discussed the depiction of putti on sarcophagi alongside

Bacchic cult objects, such as bowls used to hold ritual wine, and has emphasized their role as companions or guides for the deceased after death.118 Another instance of this Bacchic theme can be seen among the military armor that is sculpted on the pilasters directly behind the columns of the chapel’s façade. Depicted here are several putti playing in and around a large bowl (Figure

6). These references to the Bacchic use of wine and ritual vessels for ensuring an afterlife all hold rich connotations for a Christian interpretation of these motifs centered on the Eucharist.

The winged lions with griffin locks in the frieze also relate to ancient Roman funerary art.

Griffins were associated with the gods Apollo and Dionysos in the role of vigilant guardian of the dead and suggest the idea of apotheosis or Dionysiac regeneration. 119 Thus, they often appear on the sides of sarcophagi.120 An ancient Roman prototype for the interaction of putti and griffins was visible in the fifteenth century in extant relief carvings from the Forum of Trajan that were reused as a cornice on the exterior of the church of Santa Maria in Spoglio Cristo.121

The relief depicts winged putti emerging from an acanthus scroll and pouring a drink into a patera for a winged lion that rests one paw on the ritual bowl; between each putto is an amphora decorated with Bacchic motifs (Figure 77). It is significant that this ritual scene was known to

Renaissance artists in a Christian context, evoking Eucharistic associations between the activity of the putti and griffins and the use of a chalice and wine in the remembrance of Christ’s

45 crucifixion and his ultimate sacrifice. Indeed, in the Middle Ages, griffins came to be linked with the ascension of Christ into Heaven.122

The arched form of the chapel’s façade is meaningful as well in this context as a reference to funerary arches from ancient Roman times. These arches functioned as cenotaphs for prominent individuals and were distinct from the triumphal type erected in Rome in that they were memorials funded by private citizens rather than official, state-sponsored testaments to military victory.123 Most important for our discussion of the Baptist’s chapel is the funerary arch of the Sergii raised in Pola at some time between 29 B.C. and A.D. 2 (Figure 78).124 An inscription over the arch reveals that Salvia Postuma Sergius commissioned the monument to honor deceased members of her family.125 The chapel’s façade is evocative of the structure at

Pola in its single, arched opening flanked by columns with Victory figures in the spandrels. A frieze of putti carrying garlands, along with arms and armor, on the ancient monument is echoed as well in the lower frieze of the chapel’s facade. As has been discussed, the putti and garland motif is borrowed from Roman funerary art and helps to establish the commemorative function of the arch at Pola.

There is clear evidence that the arch of the Sergii was well known in the fifteenth century and used as a visual model for numerous monuments. The most significant of these is the entrance to the Castel Nuovo in Naples, a lavishly sculpted portal with two superimposed arches erected by Alfonso of Aragon, King of Naples, and carried out between the 1440s and the 1470s by a team of prominent artists including Pietro da Milano, Francesco Laurana, Paolo Romano, and Domenico Gaggini (Figure 79).126 Driscoll has noted that the façade of the lower arch is derived from the arch of the Sergii at Pola, which also served as a source, along with other

Roman funerary forms like sarcophagi, for the monument’s sculptural decoration.127 The reliefs of the passageway of the arch include friezes of putti with garlands framing satyr heads and other

46 mythological creatures much like the lower frieze on the chapel’s façade in Siena (Figure 80).

Likewise, the frieze of griffins on the upper arch of the Neapolitan arch recalls the use of these same creatures in the upper frieze of the chapel of the Baptist. The employment of antique motifs with a funerary connotation on the arch of the Castel Nuovo points to a possible sepulchral function for the structure. Indeed, although Alfonso was not buried under or near the arch, his illegitimate son and successor, Ferrante, commissioned a copper gilt reliquary for the heart of the king that was suspended in the arch, thus establishing it not only as a ceremonial gateway, but also a cenotaph.128

That the arch in Naples was an important visual model for the façade of the chapel of the

Baptist is confirmed by their shared antique vocabulary. The gateway’s funerary function could have also influenced the form and decoration of the chapel façade. The special connection that existed between the Aringhieri family and King Alfonso of Naples should not be overlooked in this context. Alberto’s father Francesco, representing the Sienese government, negotiated an alliance with Alfonso in 1453, and Giovanni Battista, Alberto’s older brother, was knighted as an adolescent by the Neapolitan king.129 This association of the family with one of the most prominent and powerful political figures of the fifteenth century would have added to the prestige of the Aringhieri. The visual and functional reference in the chapel’s facade to one of

Alfonso’s most famous architectural commissions thus seems logical and would have reminded viewers of the political connection in the form of shared commemorative monuments.

As we have seen, an examination of the chapel’s form and decoration points to its definition as a martyrium. The centrally-planned and vaulted space and several aspects of the façade sculpture draw on well-known traditions of funerary art and architecture from the ancient

Roman and early Christian eras. Although Aringhieri’s intentions are unknown, and likely to remain that way until his will or other archival evidence is uncovered, the visual evidence

47 provided by the chapel makes it clear that he intended the monument to act in conjunction with his tomb or as a cenotaph.130

The Decorative Program of the Chapel’s Interior

The interior of chapel of the Baptist is most notable for its multi-media decorative ensemble, comprised of sculpture, painting, and architecture in a variety of materials, including marble, bronze, and wood. The carving of the architectural framework, of the Corinthian order on the first level and Ionic on the second in correspondence with the marble facade, was particularly rich. Cornucopia connected to putti by garlands decorate the architraves, vases and hanging fruit fill the pilasters, curving foliage is sculpted above and below the frescoes and in the sculpture niches, and griffins are shown emerging from cornucopia above the intarsia panels

(Figures 34,38).

The combination of materials with the incrustation of decoration provided the chapel’s interior with the ornamental splendor appropriate for a saint’s shrine. In general, such shrines were conceived as places where Heaven and earth merged in keeping with the function of saints as intercessors between the devoted and God. 131 Thus, as Hahn has stated, the proper ornament for saints' shrines was crucial as it was perceived as an indication of sacredness.132 The Holy

Sepulcher, for example, was exalted for its beautiful ornament.133 Rather than relying solely on iconography, the establishment of the sanctity of the space for the viewer, was also achieved through other means, including architecture and ornamentation.134

The apparent complex nature of the chapel’s interior decoration is further amplified by the imitation of an additional medium. Lusini, writing in 1939, noted that the bright colors of all of Pinturicchio’s frescoes depicting the life of the Baptist, as well as the tesserated appearance

48 and gold background of the Saint John the Baptist in the Dessert and the Saint John Preaching,

simulate mosaic (Figures 31-33).135 This artist is known to have imitated mosaic and other

media in many of his works, and his replication of mosaics in the Baptist’s chapel may draw

upon early Christian and/or medieval sources.136 In a general sense, they recall the use of

mosaics in the fifth-century chapel of the Baptist at the Lateran Baptistery discussed above. They

should be related as well to hagiographic mosaics, such as the series carried around 1300 that

narrates the Baptist’s life on the vault on the Florentine Baptistery.

The organizational scheme of the interior decoration is defined primarily by the

woodwork applied to the chapel’s curved wall, visible in its original form in a seventeenth-

century proposal for renovation of the dome (Figure 81). This framing element isolates

individual components of the visual program, while at the same time establishing shared

compartmentalized shapes, such as shell-topped niches for the statues and rectangular fields for

the fresco paintings. Two particular models should be discussed here for their possible influence

on this arrangement.

The most obvious precedent for the architecturally-structured integration of decorative

forms were large, multi-paneled altarpieces that combined painting, sculpture, and in its frame, architecture.137 Popular in the late Middle Ages, these polyptychs continued to be produced well

into the Renaissance, as evidenced, for example, by the Delle Rovere Altarpiece installed in

1490 in Santa Maria di Castello, Savona (Figure 82).138 Medieval versions of this kind

employed traditional Gothic architectural forms, but were updated in the fifteenth century by

means of a more classical vocabulary, especially the use of pilasters carved in wood or marble

with all’ antica motifs as seen in Giovanni Bellini’s Saint Vincent Ferrer Altarpiece (1460s) in

the church of Santi Giovanni e Paolo in Venice (Figure 83).139 One common Quattrocento

feature of this altarpiece type was the sculpted figure of a saint in a central, arched niche flanked

49 by other painted or sculpted saints in arched fields, often with a second tier of painted figures

above, all framed by pilasters. The use of a triple arch form has led some scholars to establish a

specific triumphal category of altarpiece based upon an allusion to ancient Roman triumphal

arches.140 A prominent example is found in Andrea Sansovino’s sculpted Corbinelli Altarpiece

of 1485-1490 at Santo Spirito in Florence (Figure 84).141 This altarpiece features a marble

sacrament tabernacle in a central, arched niche flanked by marble statues of standing saints under

their own respective arched niches. The Saint Vincent Ferrer Altarpiece also follows the triple

arched format, with standing saints painted in arched fields on the first level. It includes on the

second level an image of the dead Christ flanked by the archangel Gabriel and the Virgin, whose

hands are folded in prayer.

Even though some scholars have pointed to the fact that these multi-media altarpieces

were out of style in Florence by the mid fifteenth century, many examples were to be seen in

Tuscan churches throughout the Renaissance, although few are extant.142 The altarpiece by

Antonio Rossellino and Francesco Botticini, now in the Pinacoteca in Empoli and dated to the

1480s, is evidence of the continued production of this type of multi-media design (Figure 85). In

this work, two painted angels bow in reverent devotion to the marble image of Saint Sebastian in

a central niche.143 Two donors kneeling with hands clasped in prayer are painted on either side

of the statue, paralleling the similar arrangement of painted, genuflecting figures and cult statue

in the chapel of the Baptist. Moreover, Pope-Hennessy has pointed out the commonality of the combination of sculpture and painting in Siena, citing records of a number of wooden statues of

Saint Anthony with painted wings that existed in the city.144

What these altarpieces provide is a highly organized presentation of standing saints, a

sacra conversazione envisioned in paint, sculpture, and wood. Hagiographic narratives are rare

in these works, however, and if they appear at all it is in the predella. To find a model for that

50 aspect of the decoration of the chapel of the Baptist one must look to another prototype that is closely related to the altarpiece types just mentioned, namely shrines dedicated to saints that are centered on a niche. These usually consisted of a semicircular or rectangular niche filled with a statue of the saint and/or other related visual forms, such as painted backgrounds or religious banners. Often the statue was surrounded by paintings of scenes from the saint’ s life, in some cases disposed on or used as doors that could close the central niche. An important example of such a shrine is the one dedicated to Saint Bernardino in the church of San Francesco al Prato in

Perugia dating from the 1470s.145 According to eighteenth- century descriptions, the niche originally housed a statue of Saint Bernardino and a famous processional gonfalon, or banner, painted in 1465 Benedetto Bonfigli. The same painter is said to have executed the painting of the saint before Christ located at the back of the niche.146 Most important for this discussion, however, are eight panels painted in tempera that show various miracles performed by

Bernardino during his lifetime.147 Various hypothetical reconstructions of the original disposition of these scenes and their relation to the niche have been proposed, including the mounting of the panels on the interior and exterior of a set of shutters hinged to either side of the central compartment (Figure 86).148

This type of arrangement, consisting of an iconic representation of a saint flanked by hagiographic paintings, may have been planned at one time for Donatello’s bronze statue of the

Baptist and thus could have influenced the design of Aringhieri’s chapel. In a discussion of a problematic series of panel paintings by the Sienese painter Giovanni di Paolo, Pope-Hennessy hypothesized that the John the Baptist originally formed the sculptural centerpiece for a niche shrine in Siena.149 The paintings, dated variously from 1432 to 1460 and originally numbering twelve (only eleven survive), illustrate scenes from the life of Saint John the Baptist (Figure

87).150 According to Pope-Hennessy, these painted panels were arranged on two hinged wings

51 that closed over a niche holding the statue of the Baptist.151 He suggested that the long delay in

the public exhibition of Donatello’s sculpture may account for the lack of documentation

concerning these narrative panels.

If we consider, then, the decorative articulation of the interior wall of the chapel of the

Baptist with these precedents in mind, it becomes clear that the particular structure and

components of multi-media altarpieces and saints’ niche shrines were combined to provide an

integrated decorative program in that space. The wooden framework, arched niches, and

rectangular painted panels recall the triumphal arch altarpiece form that has been applied to the

interior, in a sense transforming the chapel itself into a large-scale, circular altarpiece, with

Barili’s intarsia positioned around the lower zone of the chapel wall much like a predella.

Figures in various poses of adoration and devotion, visible in Bellini’s Saint Vincent Ferrer

Altarpiece and the altarpiece in Empoli, provide apt examples for the incorporation of the chapel’s two portraits into an altarpiece format. The traditional employment of hagiographical paintings in saint’s niche shrines, furthermore, helps to explain the integration of scenes from the life of the Baptist into the decorative scheme in the Siena chapel.

In the context of Renaissance Siena, the chapel’s internal disposition appears to be unique. Other attempts at applying a structured multi-media ensemble to the walls of a church chapel were apparently rare and, previous to the Cathedral chapel, relatively tentative. One might note, for example the early Quattrocento Marescotti chapel in Sant’Agostino which featured a niche containing a wooden, polychromed statue of the Virgin and Child attributed to Francesco di Valdambrino.152 According to the records of the pastoral visitation conducted by Bossio in

1575, this niche was inset into the chapel wall and flanked on either side by painted panels of saints perhaps by Taddeo di Bartolo; interestingly, although part of the chapel wall was utilized, this arrangement above the altar was described as an altarpiece.153

52 The chapel of the Baptist seems bold in its integrated decorative program when compared

to this earlier example. A later example, also from Sant’Agostino, reveals that such structured

arrangement of multi-media components was still unique in Siena at the time the Cathedral chapel was being completed. In the 1490s, the powerful Bichi refurbished their family chapel,

which provides a contemporary decorative program for comparison with that of the Baptist’s

chapel. The primary focus of the Bichi monument was a polyptch that consisted of Francesco di

Giorgio’s wooden statue of Saint Christopher (1488-1490), and flanking panels by Luca

Signorelli depicting saints and semi-nude male figures disrobing (1498). On the side walls

Francesco di Giorgio and his workshop painted monochrome frescoes with scenes of the Birth of the Virgin and the Nativity (c. 1490-1494), and on the ceiling matching monochrome images of sibyls were painted by Signorelli (c. 1490-1494).154 The arrangement of these components of the original altarpiece is unknown, although several reconstructions have been proposed. Among them is the idea of a central niche for the statue with the painted saints in arched frames set to the sides, reminiscent of the triumphal arch altarpiece type discussed above.155 The wall frescoes, however, are separate decorative elements that appear unrelated to the painted and sculpted ensemble on the altar or the frescoes in the vault above.

The Bichi chapel thus lacks a unifying element as found in the highly organized structure that defines and integrates the various decorative components in the chapel of the Baptist. While the form of that element, the wooden architectural framework, might be considered conservative, especially in the way it isolates visual forms, its importance lies in the fact that it provided order to an entire assemblage of works executed in various media. The need for a unified ensemble was perceived and addressed in a fashion that drew upon known traditions, combining them to create a new and sophisticated schemata.

53 One might compare the chapel’s decoration to other famous visual programs of the

period, such as the Tornabuoni chapel in Santa Maria Novella, Florence, where between 1486

and 1490 Ghirlandaio painted pilasters and architraves to organize scenes from the life of the

Baptist. Closer to the case at hand is the Sassetti chapel (1484-1485), painted by the same artist

in Santa Trinita, Florence, which incorporates a framed altarpiece and sarcophagi for the patrons

(Figures 88-89).156 These examples, however, are painted, two-dimensional programs that

continue the centuries-old evolution of frescoed chapels. The structurally defined, three-

dimensional nature of the decorative scheme of the Baptist’s chapel, with its statues and carved

woodwork, establishes its exceptional status.

Already in the Quattrocento, though, such rigid structure as that used to organize the decoration of the Baptist’s chapel gave way to visual programs with more unified fields of decoration. The chapel of the Cardinal of Portugal (1461-1466) in San Miniato in Florence is the most significant example of this type (Figure 90).157 In this chapel, sculpture, painting, architecture are combined into a coherent ensemble without a strict architectural framework, fused together through the visual relationship of and interaction between various decorative components.158 A similar visual program was used for a saint’s shrine in the case of the chapel of Santa Fina (1468-1480s) in San Gimignano, carried out by Giuliano and Benedetto da Maiano and Domenico Ghirlandaio.159

That is not to say, however, that the decorative program of the chapel of the Baptist does not have its own integrative aspects. Despite the isolating nature of the architectural frame, there are obvious decorative components that were meant to work together beyond the physical boundaries of the frame and even across the space of the chapel.

The most obvious interactive elements in the chapel’s décor are Pinturicchio’s two painted portraits depicting genuflecting male figures (Figures 36-37). These figures are eternally

54 focused on the central niche and the statute of the Baptist, communicating across the chapel

interior (Figure 25). The position of these painted devotees, on either side of the entrance arch,

places them in the company of any visitor to the chapel, who, standing at the entrance, completes

a triad of figures addressing the venerable saint (Figure 35). However, a closer look at the

disposition of the portraits allows for a refinement of these ideas. Alberto Aringhieri is presented

in a three-quarters view, while the young knight appears almost in profile with his head raised

higher than that of his compatriot across the threshold. The visual implication is that the young

knight focuses as much if not more attention on the statue located to his immediate left, that of

Saint Ansanus. The specific significance of this communication will be considered further

below, but in the context of this discussion, it is obvious that the nuances of correspondence

among the decorative components in the chapel transcends the restrictive nature of the

organizing frame.

Another instance of the interaction of decorative components in the chapel involves one of the intarsia panels, that which possibly depicts a disciple of John the Baptist, identified by some scholars as Saint Andrew (Figure 42). 160 In her discussion of the original arrangement of

all the panels, Thornton has noted that this figure, whose left hand would have appeared to

extend slightly out into the space of the chapel, turns upward with a focused gaze. Taking into

account the location of the panel in the original intarsia sequence, this figure would have visually

engaged the statue of John the Baptist above, which would be appropriate if indeed he is one of

the Precursor’s followers.161 The head of the bronze figure, furthermore, is itself turned to our

left, seemingly fixing its gaze on the image of the young knight (Figures 26, 35). Although, as

has been noted, Donatello’s work was not originally created for this specific setting, its

directional focus must have been considered when planning the organization of the frescoes.

55 The arrangement of the hagiographic frescoes also points to a more integrated decorative scheme than is apparent at first glace. The most emphatic separation of the scenes is laterally, by pairs of coupled pilasters, creating four sets of paintings in two tiers. The frescoes are divided horizontally as well by a less emphatic cornice. As Lavin has thoroughly demonstrated, the layout of narrative frescoes cycles from early Christian times through the Renaissance varied as did the direction of their visual reading.162 The organization of Pinturicchio’s painted scenes from the life of the Baptist, however, does not seem to conform to any of the standard patterns for fresco arrangement.

If we read the frescoes chronologically, which is logical, then the first image in the cycle would be the Visitation of the Virgin and Saint Elizabeth. This painting is no longer extant, but was postioned in the upper tier to the right of Donatello’s Baptist. It was replaced in 1868 by

Cesare Maccari’s Visitation of John the Baptist in Prison (Figure 91).163 The next scene in the chronological sequence, the Birth of Saint John the Baptist, is found in the lower tier to the left of the bronze statue of the saint (Figures 25, 31). The following two frescoes in order are Saint

John the Baptist in the Wilderness and Saint John the Baptist Preaching (Figures 33-33). These are located opposite the central niche on either side of the entryway, with the former to the right

(above the portrait of the young Knight) and the latter to the left (above the portrait of Alberto

Aringhieri) (Figure 35). For the next image, one must turn back around to find the Baptism of

Christ in the upper tier to the left of the statue of the Baptist (Figure 25). This fresco was repainted by Vincenzo Rustici in 1616, although it is thought to retain the general compositional form of the original work by Pinturicchio (Figure 92). The sequence is completed with the

Beheading of John the Baptist in the lower tier to the right of the central niche (Figures 25, 93).

This image, too, was repainted by Rustici at the same time as the Baptism of Christ.

56 The bewildering arrangement of these frescoes when followed chronologically argues for

a different approach to their reading, one based on the relationship of the meaning between

scenes rather than the linear progression of the saint’s life.164 As the focal point of the chapel,

the central niche with its votive statue was surrounded by the most important scenes. To the left,

the vertically-aligned frescoes depicting the birth of the Baptist and the baptism of Christ should

be read a pair that emphasizes baptism (Figure 27). It was John who baptized Christ, thus

institutionalizing the sacrament, as seen in the upper fresco. The infant John, standing

prominently in a pool of water in the foreground, receives his own purifying bath in the birth

scene, foreshadowing his role in establishing the baptismal rite. To the right of the central niche,

the vertically-aligned scenes of the meeting between the Virgin and Elizabeth and the beheading of the Baptist both relate to John’s communication with Christ, first before he was born while still in his mother’s womb, and then again just before his death, indicated by his upraised head and genuflecting position (Figure 29).

Reading across the central niche, the frescoes of the upper tier similarly refer to the meetings of Christ and the Baptist. In one we see the initial encounter while both were still carried by their mothers and in the other we witness their reunion many years later at the baptism, the fulfillment of a destiny revealed by their mutual recognition while still in the womb

(Figure 25). The two scenes in the lower tier that are positioned on either side of the niche act as a set of parentheses for the bronze statue of the Baptist between, illustrating the saint’s birth and death (Figure 25). Evident in these frescoes are signs of John’s impending importance for

Christian history, from the haloed Virgin’s presence at his birth to his death by beheading, a martyrdom that would inspire others, including several of his disciples, to take up the cause of

Christ.

57 The two scenes of the Baptist in the wilderness, both as a young boy and as a bearded man preaching, are more problematic, but seem to concern the saint’s development from adolescence to manhood, from neophyte to prophet. In this instance the chronological sequence works with the meaning of the paired frescoes over the chapel’s entryway. The fact that these two images are paired vertically with Pinturicchio’s portraits should not be overlooked and their specific placement must act a means of integrating these paintings into the hagiographic sequence. The obvious connection here is again is the age of the figures, with the young Baptist set above the young Knight and the more mature version of the saint positioned above the image of Alberto Aringhieri (Figure 35).

The decoration of the chapel of the Baptist is thus both a structured display of multiple components and an integrated program that works beyond the confines of its framework. The sources of its structural form, altarpieces and saint’s niche shrines, are traditional devotional formats that were reconceived in the chapel to combine images in various media into a coherent decorative program.

1. For a discussion of previous considerations of the architecture and decoration of the chapel, see the Introduction, 4-6.

2. Landi, 31.

3. Ibid. Like Landi, Angelini points to the archival record, dated 1467, regarding Savini’s acquisition of these marbles, but claims they were always intended for a chapel dedicated to the Baptist. See Alessandro Angelini, “Giovanni di Stefano e le lupe marmoree di Porta Romana a Siena,” Prospettiva 65 (January 1992): 53-54.

4. Landi, 108-109; Lusini, 1939, 2: 100.

5. Appendix A, Document 1.

6. Appendix A, Document 4.

7. Appendix A, Documents 5-7.

8. Appendix A, Documents 9-13.

9. ASS Balìa 34, fol.51v.

10. Appendix A, Documents 14-15.

11. Appendix A, Documents 18-20, 22, 44.

12. Appendix A, Document 47.

13. Appendix A, Documents 49-51, 53.

14. Appendix A, Documents 56, 59.

15. The year 1502 is inscribed in the intarsia panel with Barili’s self-portrait. See Figure 43.

16. Appendix A, Documents 55, 57.

17. Appendix A, Documents 61, 63, 65-66.

18. Appendix A, Document 67.

19. Sigismondo Tizio, Historiarum Senensium, 1506, BCS B.III.11, fol. 608 b-c.

20. For the importance of the feast of the Assumption of the Virgin in Siena, see Norman, 3-6.

21. See for example, Appendix A, Documents 23, 46, and 53.

22. For a recent discussion of the chapels at the Lateran Baptistery, see Gillian V. Mackie, “The Early Medieval Chapel: Decoration, Form, and Function between 33 and 714 AD,” Ph.D. diss,

University of Victoria, 1991, 185-208. For the chapel of Saint Zeno, see R. Krautheimer, Rome. Profile of a City, 312-1308 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980), 122-123.

23. For the Cappella di Piazza, see B. Degenhart, “Der Entwurf zur Cappella del Campo in Siena,” in Studien zur europäischen Plastik Festschrift Theodor Müller, ed. K. Martin (Munich: Herausgeber, 1965), 112-132; and Diana Norman, Siena and the Virgin Art and Politics in a Late Medieval City State (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), 85-89.

24. The initial phase of work on the Cappella was carried out from 1352-1376 and involved the erection of four Gothic, niched piers decorated with statues of various saints. Some idea of the appearance of he chapel before Federighi’s addition can be gained from Sano di Pietro’s 1445 painting, Saint Bernardino Preaching in the Piazza del Campo, now in the Museo del Opera, Siena, which shows the structure on the left side.

25. Federighi also made use of a griffin frieze in terracotta on the facade of the Palazzo dei Diavoli, Siena, around 1460.

26. For a description of the responsibilities and organization of the Operaio and the Opera, see Strehlke, 43-46; and Aronow, 16-17.

27. See Fred Kleiner, The Arch of Nero. A Study of Roman Honorary Arches Before and Under Nero (Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider, 1985), 11-13, for a general overview of Roman honorary arches.

28. Kleiner, 34-35, 68, 85-86.

29. For the Arch of Tiberius at Orange, see Kleiner, 47-48.

30. See, for example, Appendix A, Document 47.

31. See the Epilogue below for the reliquary grating.

32. Appendix B, Document 4.

33. Appendix B, Document 18. A wooden statue of the Baptist, mentioned in the sacristy in connection with the relic in the inventory of 1480, reappears in 1500, 1525, and 1536, although there is no explicit mention of the relic itself in the sacristy in those years. A description of the contents of the “stanza dove sta il Braccio di Santo Giovanni” occurs in inventories from 1578, 1590, and 1610. See Appendix B, Documents 20, 22, 26.

34. See above, note 19.

35. Girolamo Gigli, Diario sanese, 2 vol., n. p. (1723. Reprint, Siena: Arnolfo Forni, 1854), 2: 497.

36. The literature on saints’ shrines and martyria is considerable. See in general, André Grabar, Martyrium: recherches sur le culte des reliques et l’art chrétien antique, 2 vol. (Paris: Fondation

Schlumberger pour les Etudes Byzantines, 1946), and idem,“From the Martyrium to the Church: Christian Architecture, East and West,” Archaeology 2 (March 1949): 95-104; Peter Brown, The Cult of Saints. Its Rise and Function in Latin Christianity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982), 1-22; Richard Krautheimer, Early Christian and Byzantine Architecture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986), 54-60; and Cynthia Hahn, “Seeing and Believing: The Construction of Sanctity in Early-Medieval Saints’ Shrines,” Speculum 72 (October 1997): 1079- 1106.

37. For the Anastasis Rotunda, see R. Krautheimer, “Introduction to an ‘Iconography of Medieval Architecture,’”Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 5 (1942): 3-22, and 1986, 60-63; John Wilkinson, “The Tomb of Christ: An Outline of its Structural History,” Levant 4 (1972): 83-97.

38. Grabar, 1949, 98.

39. Krautheimer, 1980, 52, and “Success and Failure in Late Antique Church Planning,” in The Age of Spirituality, ed. Kurt Weitzman (Princeton: Princeton University Pres, 1980), 121-124; Hugo Brandenburg, “La chiesa di S. Stefano Rotondo a Roma,”Rivista di archeologia cristiana 68 (1992): 201-232.

40. Linda Koch, “The Early Christian Revival at S. Miniato al Monte: The Cardinal of Portugal Chapel,” The Art Bulletin 78 (1996): 535-538.

41. Krautheimer, 1942, 4.

42. Ibid., 31. Krautheimer mentions round, Hospitaller churches at Huy, Brindisi, and Krukenburg.

43. For the Pantheon in general, see K. De Fine Licht, The Rotunda in Rome. A Study of Hadrian’s Pantheon (Copenhagen: Jutland Archaeological Society, 1968); and William L. MacDonald, The Pantheon. Design, Meaning and Progeny (Cambridge: Harvard Universy Press, 1976).

44. Rudolf Wittkower, Architectural Principles in the Age of Humanism (New York: Norton and Company, 1971), 5. See also Paul Davies, “Studies in the Quattrocento Centrally Planned Church,” Ph.D. diss., Courtuald Institute of Art, 1992.

45. Ibid.

46. Wittkower, 6; Peter Murray, The Architecture of the Italian Renaissance (New York: Schocken Books, 1986), 46-47; Ludwig H. Heydenreich, Architecture in Italy1400-1500 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 21, 26-27.

47. Linda Koch, “The Santa Fina Chapel in San Gimignano: The Promotion of a Female Saint and the Early Christian Revival in the Renaissance,” Ph.D. diss., Rutgers University, 1991, 240.

48. Charles R. Mack, “Nicholas the Fifth and the Rebuilding of Rome: Reality and Legacy,” in Light On the Eternal City: Observations and Discoveries in the Art and Architecture of Rome, ed. Helmut Hager and Susan S. Munshower (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1987), 35-36; Charles Burroughs, From Signs to Design: Environmental Process and Reform in Early Renaissance Rome (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1990), 53.

49. Wittkower, 30.

50. Mackie, 185-208.

51. For late sixteenth-century refurbishment and alterations, see Jack Freiberg, The Lateran in 1600. Christian Concord in Counter-Reformation Rome (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 276.

52. Onofrio Panvinio, “De sacrosancta basilica, baptisterio et patriarchio lateranensi, libri quatuor” in Philippe Lauer, Le palais de Latran: Étude historique et archéologique (Paris: Ernest Leroux, 1911) 466-467; Mackie, 191.

53. Mackie, 191-192.

54. For the wooden statue of John the Baptist, see Anna Maria Corbo, Artisti e artigiani in Roma al tempo di Martino e di Eugenio IV (Rome: De Lucca, 1969), 177.

55. Mackie, 196-201. D. J. Mabillon, a seventeenth-century liturgical scholar, theorized that the chapel of the Baptist was a changing room for initiates during the ritual of baptism. See also P.A. Février, “Baptisté, martyrs et reliques,” Rivista di archeologia cristiana 62 (1986): 121.

56. Ibid., 200-201. The chapel was known in the ninth-century writings of Alcuin as “S. Giovanni ad vestem,” apparently in reference to the relic of the Baptist’s garment that was housed there.

57. Ibid., 193, 196-197.

58. Freiberg, 98-102.

59. Sally J. Cornelison, “Art and Devotion in Late Medieval and Renaissance Florence: The Relics and Reliquaries of Saints Zenobius and John the Baptist,” Ph.D diss., Courtauld Institute, 1998, 133-134. For the Florentine Baptistery in general, see Walter Horn, “Das Florentiner Baptisterium,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 5 (1937-1940): 100-150; C. Pietramellara, Il battistero di San Giovanni a Firenze. Rilievo e studio critico (Florence: Polistampa, 1973); Franklin Toker “A Baptistery Below the Baptistery of Florence,” The Art Bulletin 58 (1976): 157-162; Antonio Paolucci, Il Battistero di San Giovanni a Firenze (Modena: Panini, 1994).

60. Ibid., 131-132.

61. Ibid., 131-136.

62. Ibid., 134.

63. Ibid., 132-133.

64. Ibid., 136. For Cardinal Piero Corsini’s donation of the Baptist’s thumb, see Cornelison, 138- 156.

65. Ibid., 168; Andrew Butterfield, The Sculptures of Andrea del Verrocchio (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), 105. For the feast of the Baptist in Florence in general, see P. Gori, Le feste fiorentine attraverso i secoli: le feste per San Giovanni (Prato: R. Bemporad and Son, 1926); Richard C. Trexler, Public Life in Renaissance Florence (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1991), 240-278; and H. Chrétien, The Festival of San Giovanni: Imagery and Political Power in Renaissance Florence (New York: Peter Lang, 1994).

66. Butterfield, 105; J. Pope-Hennessy, Italian Renaissance Sculpture (Oxford: Phaidon, 1986), 399.

67. For the chapel of the Baptist in San Lorenzo, Genoa, see D. Cambiaso,"Il culto di S. Giovanni Battista in San Lorenzo," in La cattedrale di Genova. MCXVIII-MCMXVIII (Genoa, 1918), 137-144; Hanno-Walter Kruft, "La cappella di San Giovanni Battista nel Duomo di Genova," Antichità viva 9 (1970): 33-50; and "La decorazione interna della cappella di San Giovanni Battista nel Duomo di Genova," Antichità viva 10 (1971): 20-27; and Anna Dagnino and Clario Di Fabio, San Lorenzo e il Museo del Tesoro (Genoa: Sagep, 1988), 20-28. Kate McCluer of the Institute of Fine Arts, New York University, is currently writing a doctoral dissertation on the chapel of the Baptist in Genoa.

68. Kruft, 1970, 33.

69. Kruft, 1971, 20.

70. Ibid., 20-23.

71. Kruft, 1970, 33.

72. P. L. Persoglio, San Giovanni Battista e i genovesi, ossio Vita, reliquia e culto del Santo in Genova ed altrove (Genoa, 1899), 213-223; Debra Pincus, “Christian Relics and the Body Politic: A Thirteenth-Century Relief Plaque in the Church of San Marco,” in Interpretazione veneziane, ed. David Rosen (Venice: Arsenale, 1984), 55, n. 50.

73. Ibid., 46.

74. For the relics, see Luciano Bellosi, L’Oro di Siena. Il tesoro di Santa Maria della Scala (Milan: Skira, 1996), 49-78. The relics included a piece of the mantle of the Virgin, a piece of the True Cross, fragments of Christ’s tomb, a piece of His purple robe, particles of the sponge, lance and stick, a single hair from His beard, and drops of His blood.

75. For the arliquiera, see H. van Os, Vecchietta and the Sacristy of the Siena Hospital Church (`s-Gravenhage: Ministerie van Cultur, Recreatie en Maatschappelijk, 1974), 16-30

76. Ibid., 31-53.

77. Ibid., 14. The arliquiera was placed at one end of the long sacristy in the position currently occupied by the seventeenth-century marble tabernacle of theHoly Nail.

78. Ibid.

79. Ibid., 14-15.

80. Despite the voluminous scholarship on this important saint, a comprehensive examination of the chapel of Catherine of Siena has yet to be undertaken.

81. Benzi’s patronage is made obvious in the inscription on the reliquary tabernacle that reads: BENZI SCA TUI NICOLAI SUSCIPE CURAM O KTERINA. The rest of Catherine’s remains are in the church of Santa Maria sopra Minerva in Rome. Pietro Torriti, Tutta Siena (Florence: Bonechi, 1988), 258-262; Koch, 1991, 73, n. 62.

82. The chapel also features a pavement, of unknown date and authorship (although Francesco di Giorgio, Giovanni di Stefano, and Beccafumi have been suggested as responsible), depicting Orpheus with animals. Frescoes representing Saint Catherine were painted on the walls by Sodoma in 1526 and Francesco Vanni between 1593 and 1596. The architectural decoration of the entrance arch dates to the sixteenth century. See Torritti, 258-262, for an overview of the chapel’s decoration.

83. Diana Webb, Patrons and Defenders. The Saints in the Italian City-States (London: Tauris, 1996), 298-316.

84. Claudio Bargagli, Spoglio delle pergamene dell’opera del duomo, 1727, ASS B40, 161r-v.: "Borghese Borghesi and Leonardo di Bartolommeo Benvoglienti supplicano Papa Paulo che egli volente concedere qualche reliquia della Santa Caterina per la devozione del Popolo Sanese verso lo Basilica e Cathedrale di Siena …"

85. Richter, 121-122.

86. Giacomo Bossio, Sante Visite, 1575, AAS 21, fol. 28r.

87. Appendix B, Documents 22-24.

88.Bossio, 28r. Unfortunately, Bossio does not specify exactly when the masses were said.

89. Appendix B, Documents 9, 13, 16.

90. Richter, 120-134, 386-388.

91. Bossio, 28r.

92. The Catholic Encyclopedia, s.v. “Holy Water.”

93. Ibid.

94. The late fifteenth-century celebration of the feast of Pentecost, including the display of the Baptist’s arm and hand, would have drawn further associations in Siena with the man primarily responsible for the Sienese acquisition of the relic, Pope Pius II. In 1459, Pius granted a plenary Pentecostal indulgence to anyone who visited the Cathedral between Vespers on the day before Pentecost and Vespers on the second day following. In order to celebrate the election of a native son as Pope and to commemorate Pius’ generosity, the Consiglio Generale of Siena, on 16 May 1460, enacted new regulations for the celebration of Pentecost. These new rules required, among other things, that the Operaio of the Cathedral decorate the piazza outside the church in the same manner as he did for the celebration of the feast of the Annunciation, and stipulated a sacred procession on the third day of the festivities. The display of the Baptist’s relic during this time would have reinforced its association with Pius II. See Webb, 306-307.

95. The Catholic Encyclopedia, s.v. “Baptism of Christ.”

96. For more on Saint Ansanus, see Chapter 3 below.

97. J. G. Davies, The Architectural Setting of Baptism (London: Barrie and Rockliff, 1962), 18- 21; R. Milburn, Early Christian Art and Architecture (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988), 203-214.

98. For the Siena Baptistery font, see John Paoletti "The Siena Baptistery Font: A Study of an Early Renaissance Collaborative Program," Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 1967.

99. Richter 124

100. Ibid., 131-132.

101. Ibid.

102. Ibid., 122-124.

103. Ibid.

104. Ibid.

105. Krautheimer, 1942, 20-26.

106. Gianfranco Ruggieri, Pantheon (Rome: Edioriale Museum, 1990), 30-31.

107. Gregory T. Armstrong, “Constantine’s Churches: Symbol and Structure,” Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians 33 (March 1974): 11-12. See also Penelope Davies, Death

and the Emperor: Roman Imperial Funerary Monuments from Augustus to Marcus Aurelius (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 13-19, 34-40; Mary T. Boatwright, Hadrian and the City of Rome (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1987), 161-181; J.J. Wilks, Diocletian’s Palace, Split (Sheffield: Ian Sanders Memorial Committee, 1993), 87-94; and J. M. Spieser, Thessalonique et ses monuments du IVe au VIe siècle (Athens: Ecole francaise d'Athenes, 1984), 124-144.

108. Armstrong, 9-11.

109. Ibid.,12-13.

110. Krautheimer, 1942, 31-32.

111. Ibid., 31.

112. Rom. 6: 3-4: “Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death? Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.”

113. Paoletti, 48.

114. W. Altmann, Die römischen Grabaltare der Kaiserzeit (Berlin: Weidmannsche, 1905), 68- 87; Diana E .E. Kleiner, Roman Imperial Funerary Altars with Portraits (Rome: Bretschneider, 1987), 21, 75-76.

115. See Chapter 3 below.

116. For putti and garland sarcophagi, see Guntram Koch, Sarkophage der Römischen Kaiserzeit (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1993), 84-90; and Janet Huskinson, Roman Children’s Sarcophagi (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996), 41-51. For the use of these motifs in the Renaissance, see Phyllis Pray Bober and Ruth Rubenstein, Renaissance Artists and Antique Sculpture. A Handbook of Sources (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986), 88-93.

117. Charles Seymour, Jr., Sculpture in Italy: 1400-1500 (Baltimore: Penguin Pres, 1966), 48- 49, 122, 140-141, 161-162.

118. For putti or cupids and Bachus/Dionysos in a funerary context, see R. Stuveras, Le putto dans l’art romain (Brussels: Latomus, 1969), 33-63; and Huskinson, 42-44.

119. Davies, 33-34. Giffins were most often associated with Dionysos as Sabazios, a god of rebirth that who offerd immortality to his followers. For Griffins and Dionysos, see Erika Simon, “Zur Bedeutung des Greifen in der Kunst der Kaiserzeit,” Latomus 21 (October-December, 1962): 749-780.

120. R. Turcan, Les sarcophages romains à representations dionysiaques: Essai de chronologie et d’histoire religieuse (Paris: E. De Boccard, 1966), 368-377.

121. Bober and Rubenstein, 92-93; Davies, 33-34; James E. Packer, The Forum of Trajan in Rome. A Study of the Monuments in Brief (Los Angeles: University of California Press, 2001), 190.

122. Richter, 123.

123. Kleiner, 36.

124. Ibid., 36-37; Diana E. E. Kleiner, Roman Sculpture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), 111-112. Another example of this type of funerary arch can be seen in Verona on the Via Postumia near the Porta dei Borsari. Of unknown date, this arch was erected by the Gavia family to honor four of their deceased members. At least one scholar has suggested that the Arch of Titus in Rome functioned as funerary rather than a triumphal arch; see K. Lehmann-Hartleben, “L’Arco di Tito,” Bullettino della Commissione archeologica del Governatorato di Roma 62 (1934): 89-122, and Davies, 23.

125. D. Kleiner, 111-112. Inscribed bases on the attic indicate that statues of the Sergii dead were positioned there, including, after her death, a sculpture of Salvia herself.

126. For the arch in Naples, see Eileen R. Driscoll, “Alfonso of Aragon as a Patron of Art. Some Reflections on the Decoration and Design of the Triumphal Arch of the Castel Nuovo in Naples,” in Essays in Memory of Karl Lehmann, ed. Lucy Freeman (New York: Institute of Fine Arts, 1964), 87-96; and G. L. Hersey, The Aragonese Arch at Naples 1443-1475 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1973).

127. Driscoll, 90.

128. Ibid., 91-92.

129. See Chapter 2 below for more information about the civil service of the Aringhieri family.

130. In her doctoral dissertation, Henrietta Silberger stated that Monika Butzek had discovered Aringhieri’s will and that it indicates a bequest left to the chapel. Dr. Butzek has informed me, however, that she has uncovered no such document. See Henrietta Silberg, “The Iconology of the Massacre of the Innocents in Late Quattrocento Sienese Art,” Ph.D. diss., Case Western Reserve University, 1999, 242-243.

131. Hahn, 1080.

132. Ibid., 1083.

133. Ibid.

134. Ibid., 1081.

135. Lusini, 1939, 2: 132.

136. Maurizio Calvesi, “Il gaio classicismo. Pinturicchio e Francesco Colonna nella Roma di Alessandro VI,” in Roma, centro ideale della cultura dell’Antico nei secoli XV e XVI, ed. Silvia Danesi Squarzina (Milan: Electa, 1989), 76-77, 101. Other examples of Pinturicchio paintings that mimic mosaic can be seen in the ceiling of the Demigods (1490) in the Palazzo dei Penitenzieri and the choir vault depicting the Virgin, Evangelists, Sibyls, and Doctors of the Church (1509-1510) in Santa Maria del Popolo, both in Rome; and in Siena in the ceilings of the Piccolomini Library (1503) and the Palazzo of Pandolfo Petrucci (1508-1509).

137. Peter Humfrey, “The Bellini, The Vivarini, and the Beginnings of the Renaissance Altarpiece in Venice,” in Eve Bosook and Fiorealla Superbi Gioffredi, ed., Italian Altarpieces 250-1550. Function and Design (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994), 139-141.

138. This work features the donor, Cardinal Giuliano Della Rovere, the future Pope Julius II, kneeling before the Virgin and Child. See Evelyn Welch, Art and Society in Italy 1350-1500 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997), 68-69.

139. Humfrey, 152.

140. Martina Ingendaay, “Rekonstruktionsversuch der ‘Pala Bichi’ in San Agostino in Siena,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 23 (1979): 123-124.

141. Seymour, 207-208.

142. See for example the church of Santa Maria Maddalena de’ Pazzi in Florence, where the fourth chapel on the left reportedly held a statue of Saint Sebastian flanked by painted figures of Saints Rocco and Ignatius, all within a richly carved wooden framework. See C. De Fabriczy, “Chiesa di S. Maria Maddalena de’ Pazzi a Firenze e sulla Badia di Salvatore a Settimo,” L’Arte 9 (1906): 262, n. 27; Welch, 68.

143. See Ingendaay, 124; and Eric Apfelstadt, " A New Context and a New Chronology for Antonio Rossellino's Statue of Saint Sebastian at Empoli," in Verrocchio and Late Quattrocento Italian Sculpture, ed. Steven Bule (Florence: Le Lettere, 1992), 189-203.

144. John Pope-Hennessy, “Giovanni di Paolo,” The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin 46 (Fall 1988): 20-21.

145. For this shrine, see Fancesco Santi, La nicchia di S. Bernardino a Perugia (Milan: Electa, 1963); Caterina Bon Valsassina and Vittoria Garibaldi, Dipinti, sculture e ceramiche della Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria. Studi e restauri (Arnaud, 1994), 209-221; Henry Millon and Vittorio Magnago Lampugnani, ed., The Renaissance From Brunelleschi to Michlangelo. The Representation of Architecture (New York: Rizzoli, 1994), 446-451.

146. Millon and Lampugnami, 448-449.

147. Ibid., 448-451. The artist responsible for these panels is much debated and remains unidentified. It has been suggested that a young Pinturicchio may have played a minor role in their execution; for a consideration of this issue, see most recently Franco Ivan Nucciarelli, Studi sul Pinturicchio dale prime prove alla cappella Sistina (Spoleto: Era Nuova, 1998), 137-169.

148. Millon and Lampugnami, 449-451.

149. Pope-Hennessy, 20-21.

150. Millard Meiss, “A New Panel By Giovanni di Paolo From His Altarpiece of the Baptist,” The Burlington Magazine 116 (February 1974): 73-77; Christiansen, Kanter, and Strehlke, 215- 218; Christopher Lloyd, Italian Paintings Before 1600 in the Art Institute of Chicago (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), 110-128. The panels (divided between the Art Institute of Chicago, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Louvre, the Norton Simon Museum and the Westfälisches Landesmuseum) have been the focus of long and intense debate regarding their original arrangement and function. Strehlke contends that if indeed the panels surrounded a niche with a statue, then the nature of the narrative scenes, seven of which detail the arrest, imprisonment, and death of the Baptist, points to a different Baptist statue, a wooden version by Francesco di Giorgio produced in 1464 for the Compagnia di San Giovanni della Morte, a lay confraternity that comforted condemned criminals. This same scholar advocates, however, a different and most intriguing theory about the use of the panels: as decoration for the doors of a wooden cupboard that housed a plain cassetta containing the reliquary of the Baptist’s arm. No hard evidence supports this idea, though, and Strehlke himself admits that the date of the execution of the panels, 1462 at latest, is before the arrival of the relic in Siena; he circumvents this problem by suggesting that negotiations for the arm of the Baptist were well under way by the time Giovanni di Paolo completed the paintings.

151. Pope-Hennessy, 20-21. Pope-Hennessy offers no suggestions as to a possible location for his proposed niche shrine.

152. Enrica Neri Lusanna, “Un episodio di collaborazione fra scultori e pittori nella Siena del primo Quattrocento: la ‘Madonna del Magnificat’ di Sant’ Agostino,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes In Florenz 25 (1981): 325-340.

153. Ibid., 325-326. A visit to the chapel today reveals only a simple, rectangular niche that has been painted over. No evidence of the panels, either physical or documentary, has been found.

154. For the chapel and its decoration see Ingendaay; Bellosi, 420-423, 440-447; Max Seidel,“Die Fresken des Francesco di Giorgio in S. Agostino in Siena,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 23 (1979): 2-107; idem, “Signorelli um 1490,” Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen 26 (1984): 181-256; and Christiansen, Kanter, and Strhlke, 340-343.

155. Ingendaay, 121-123.

156. For decorated Florentine chapels in general see Mario Carniani, Antonio Paolucci, et al., Cappelle del Rinascimento a Firenze (Florence: Becocci, 1998). For the Tornabuoni Chapel, see R. Kecks, Ghirlandaio (Florence: Octavo, 1995); for the Sassetti Chapel, see Eve Borsook and J. Offerhaus, Francesco Sassetti and Ghirlandaio at S. Trinita Florence. History and Legend in a Renaissance Chapel (Doornspijk: Davaco, 1981).

157. For the chapel of the Cardinal of Portugal, see Frederick Hartt, Gino Corti, and Carolyn Kennedy, The Chapel of the Cardinal of Portugal (Pittsburgh, 1964); and Koch, 1996, 527-555.

158. For the interactive aspects of the decorative program in the chapel of the Cardinal of Portugal, see John Shearman, Only Connect…Art and the Spectator in the Italian Renaissance (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), 77-78.

159. For the chapel of Santa Fina, see Koch, 1991.

160. For a general overview of the chapel’s intarsia, see Bellosi, 374-381.

161. Thornton, 236.

162. Marilyn Aronberg Lavin, The Place of Narrative. Mural Decoration in Italian Churches, 431-1600 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1990).

163. Landi, 110.

164. For the literary sources for and Renaissance visual depictions of the life of Saint John the Baptist, see Ilse Falk and Jenö Lányi, “The Genesis of Andrea Pisano’s Bronze Doors,” The Art Bulletin 25 (1943): 132-153; Ulrich Middeldorf, “A Note On Two Pictures By Tintoretto,” Gazette des Beaux-Arts 26 (1944): 247-260; Aronberg Lavin, “Giovanino Battista: A Study in Renaissance Religious Symbolism,” The Art Bulletin 37 (1955): 86-101; and Penelope Dunford, “The Iconography of the Frescoes in the Oratorio di S. Giovanni at Urbino,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 36 (1973): 367-373.

70 CHAPTER TWO

ALBERTO ARINGHIERI AND THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST

The driving force behind the chapel of the Baptist was its patron, Alberto Aringhieri,

Operaio of Siena Cathedral and Knight Hospitaller of Rhodes. We have seen that some scholars have questioned his role in the chapel project and even suggested other possible patrons.1 A close examination of this important Sienese figure, however, will prove that the chapel and its decoration was intimately linked to Aringhieri, and that the monument’s fullest meaning can be ascertained only through a comprehensive understanding of his personal and political life.

This chapter examines Alberto Aringhieri’s biography based in part on new documentation and considers the significance of the Aringhieri family and Alberto in Sienese affairs. It outlines for the first time a pattern of Aringhieri familial commemoration through visual means and posits this tradition as a major motivational incentive behind the chapel.

Combined with the discussions of Sienese politics and the Knights of Rhodes in the following chapters, this material makes clear that in many respects the chapel and its decoration directly reflect issues important to its primary patron, Alberto Aringhieri.

The Aringhieri Family

The Aringhieri were relative newcomers to Siena, establishing a residence in the city only in the late fourteenth century.2 They hailed originally from the small hilltop town of

71 Casole d’ Elsa, northwest of Siena and near Volterra on the edge of the Sienese contado

(outlying territories).3 Allied by marriage to the Porrina, the overlords of both Casole and Radi di Montagne in the late Middle Ages, the noble Aringhieri held a prominent position of power in

Casole, which continued after their immigration to Siena. Those family members living in

Siena, including Alberto Aringhieri, would have returned to their ancestral home often,

particularly during the hot summer months when outbreaks of plague sent the wealthy from the

city to their country estates. One scholar has suggested that at such times Alberto may have

stayed in the Palazzo Porrina in Casole at such times.4

Niccolò Aringhieri, the patriarch of the Sienese branch of the family, was Alberto’s great

grandfather.5 He was celebrated as one of the outstanding lawyers of his age, and many of his

descendants followed in this esteemed profession, most notably his son Aringhiero Aringhieri

who was also the first of the family to serve in Sienese public office in 1405.6 Niccolò is best

remembered, however, for his tenure as the Rector of the University of Siena in the later

Trecento.7 The fundamental links between the Aringhieri and the Piccolomini families seems to

have originated with Niccolò, who married Silvestra di Bandaligi di Gabriello Piccolomini in

1343.8

If Niccolò set the stage for the prominence of his family in Siena, it was the extensive and

successful political and diplomatic careers of his grandson Francesco and grandnephew Giovanni

Battista that most likely influenced the young Alberto Aringhieri. Francesco Aringhieri,

Alberto’s father, was among the most trusted civil servants of the Sienese state in the mid-

Quattrocento. His diplomatic skills were proven time and again. In 1446, he was responsible for

negotiating a peace and avoiding war with Naples; and in 1453, he cemented a confederation

between Siena and King Alfonso of Naples.9 He was also active as Sienese ambassador, first to

Venice in 1449, where he negotiated an agreement between the states and was knighted by the

72 doge, and subsequently to the pontifical courts of Pius II in 1459 and 1462, and Paul II in 1469.10

In addition, Francesco was appointed Senator of Rome in 1459, 1463, and 1469.11 He also

served ably as a military leader in Sienese conflicts with the Count of Pitigliano in 1454 and the

condottiere Piccinino in 1456.12 Although there is no known documentation to confirm the

hypothesis, it seems possible, given the dates of his service to Pius II, that Francesco may have

played a part in the negotiations with the Pope and Thomas Palaeologus, the Despot of the

Morea and brother of the last Byzantine emperor, that eventually brought the Baptist relic to

Siena. If this was the case, then a connection between the Aringhieri family and the relic may

have been established a generation before Alberto became involved in Cathedral affairs.

Francesco was responsible for the renovation of the family palace in Siena in the 1450s.

The renovation seems to have been undertaken to reflect his elevated status as a member of the

then newly-created Sienese governing council, the Balìa, and to keep pace with other prominent

families among this ruling body who were doing the same.13 Payment records for a supply of bricks indicates that the workshop of Pietro and Antonio del Minella, among the most prestigious architects in the city, was employed for the project.14 The building still stands today between the Banchi di Sopra opposite the Palazzo Spannocchi and the Costa dell’ Incrocita, although it has been restructured on several occasions since the early sixteenth century (Figure 94).15 The family coat of arms, a shield that originally would have been painted red and blue, adorns a tower at the rear of the palace at the intersection of the Via dei Termini and the Via della

Sapienza (Figure 95).16 Documents indicate that the home included a painted room close to a loggia, part of which is still visible; a large sala; a room with a “letto di baldacchino” decorated by a certain painter named Lazzaro; and a room with a mid-fifteenth century fresco of Saint

Christopher attributed to the school of Vecchietta, the only extant component of the original interior decoration.17

73 The wealth evidenced by the scale and appointments of the Aringhieri palace is

confirmed by the list of valuables Francesco often entrusted to the care of the convent at San

Domenico when he was constrained to exit the city quickly, as in times of plague.18 The items

listed include expensive clothing, silks, pearls, precious stones, silverware, coins and ingots of

silver and gold, as well as marriage cassoni painted with Classical mythologies. The storage of

these valuables also reveals the family connection with the church of San Domenico where

Francesco, like many other of his relatives, was entombed in 1470. His body was brought back

from Rome where he had died, and with great pomp he was interred in the church’s cloister on

15 August of that year.19

Francesco had succumbed to the plague in the Eternal City as had his eldest son Giovanni

Battista, whose body was laid next to his father’s on 4 September 1470.20 This extremely

difficult moment in the history of the family motivated Cardinal Campano to write a eulogy for

the two deceased Aringhieri men in the form of a letter to the Sienese Cardinal Francesco

Piccolomini.21 The loss of Francesco was compounded by the death of Giovanni Battista,

Alberto’s older brother, who, although relatively young, had already amassed much political

experience and was poised to step into his father’s place as a preeminent Sienese statesman.

After an auspicious start, which included being knighted by King Alfonso in Naples at an early

age, Giovanni Battista served as podestà of Lucca when only nineteen, followed by service in

similar offices in Ferrara, Modena, and Perugia.22 At home, his greatest political moment came

with his election as Capitano di Popolo of Siena in 1469, and just before his death he had been

selected to replace his father in the Roman Senate in the following year, 1471.23 Giovanni

Battista further strengthened Aringhieri political ties with the Piccolomini by marrying Margarita

di Giovanni di Fabio Piccolomini in 1459.24 With this discussion of Giovanni Battista Aringhieri in mind, the dedication of Alberto’s chapel to John the Baptist may pay tribute to the name saint

74 of his prematurely deceased brother as much as it honors the arm relic and holy patron of the

Knights of Rhodes.

The Aringhieri tradition of public service to Siena continued into the sixteenth century,

carried on particularly by the children of Giovanni Battista.25 The family is listed among the

hundreds of citizens who retreated to Montalcino and founded the short-lived Sienese Republic there after the Medici had taken Siena in 1555.26 The trail of the Aringhieri after the fall of the

Sienese at Montalcino in 1559 has yet to be explored, although Gigli mentions some Aringhieri of Sienese origin living in Cortona under the surname of Alticozzi.27

The Life of Alberto Aringhieri

Reconstructing a complete biography for Alberto Aringhieri is problematic due to a

scarcity of known documentation concerning his activities outside his official duties in public

service. Thus, the most recent attempts to outline his life, those by Aronow and Silberger, have

been brief and reveal little that is new.28 While the information that follows represents the best

attempt yet to document Alberto Aringhieri and understand more fully his participation in

Sienese affairs, it is far from complete.

Alberto’s precise date of birth is unknown, but it can be estimated based on the record of

his baptism on 18 November 1447, a newly discovered date presented for the first time in this study.29 As was customary in the Italian Renaissance, baptism was performed as soon after birth

as possible, usually within a few days.30 Thus it appears that Alberto was born around mid-

November 1447. Information about Alberto’s childhood has yet to be uncovered, but we can

infer something about this period in his life from the well-documented activities of his father,

particularly in terms of travel. Assuming that the family traveled with Francesco on diplomatic

75 missions, Alberto lived in Venice at an early age while his father was Sienese Ambassador there,

and in Rome during his teenage years while Francesco was a Senator and Sienese orator to the

pope.31 Pope-Hennessy has supposed a humanistic education for Alberto given the prominence

of his father in Rome and the presence of famous humanists, including Flavio Biondo, at the

court of Pope Pius II (1458-1464).32 Some scholars have pointed to the subject matter of some

of Aringhieri’s Cathedral commissions as evidence of this, positing a close intellectual

relationship with the Sienese circle of Cardinal Francesco Piccolomini, the nephew of Pius II and

future Pope Pius III (1503).33

In 1468, Alberto was appointed for a six-month term to the board of the Sienese

Mercanzia. 34 This is the earliest known evidence of his participation in public life, the

beginning of a long civic career. At least two Sienese chronicles of the fifteenth century, those

of Allegretto Allegretti and Tommasso Fecini, mention Alberto among a group of four men who

took part in a tournament in the Piazza del Campo in late March or early April of 1469.35 His

name appears as well in Allegretti’s account of Sienese reactions to the Florentine sack of

Volterra in 1472, the implications of which will be addressed below.36

Alberto does not surface again in the archival record until 1480 when, following family tradition, he begins an intense campaign of service to the Sienese state in several different capacities. Most importantly, on 10 August 1480 he was elected to the post of Operaio of the

Cathedral after the politically-motivated ouster of Savino di Matteo Savini from the office.37 He retained this position for the remainder of his residence in Siena, which lasted until 1506. From

September through October 1480 he was Capitano di Popolo and Gonfaloniere, positions which he held again from May through June of 1481, January through February 1484, and July to

August 1493.38 His experience in foreign diplomacy seems to have begun in 1483 when he was

Sienese oratore, or ambassador, to Florence from 28 May to 16 June, and to Milan in November

76 of that same year; he was again appointed ambassador to Florence on 17 March 1486.39 In July

1486, Alberto was elected to a six-month term among the Regolari, and in July 1495 to the

Biccherna for a similar term. 40 Besides these specific offices, Alberto served on the Balìa on numerous occasions as a representative of the Monte di Popolo, with his first term of service beginning, according to Allegretti, in late 1479.41

In addition to his long career in civil service, from 1480 Alberto also held the commandary of San Pietro alla Magione, one of two possessions of the Knights Hospitallers of

Rhodes (Order of Saint John of Jerusalem) in Siena.42 Again, archival investigation has yet to reveal the origins of his involvement with this military order, and there is no known previous association of Aringhieri family members with the Knights. Silberger has assumed that, since

Allegretti calls Aringhieri “cavaliere” in reference to the tournament mentioned above, Alberto was already a Knight of Rhodes by 1469.43 Fecini’s account, however, fails to use the title, and in fact does not indicate the “knighthood” of Aringhieri until an entry dated 1480.44

Furthermore, it should be noted that in many cases a Knight of Rhodes is specifically distinguished from anyone possessing a general knighthood by the identification of the military order or a reference to its island headquarters after the use of “cavaliere.” Thus, Silberger’s contention seems poorly founded, particularly in light of the complete lack of other evidence attesting to Alberto’s Hospitaller association prior to 1480.45 The record of Alberto’s examination for office of Operaio by the Balìa on 7 August 1480 refers to him as “militis

Ierosolimitani,” indicating his membership in the Order at least by this date.46

The question of Alberto’s travels to the East are raised by the fact that traditionally most

Knights were required to serve on Rhodes for several years before being assigned a commandary in Europe, although this seems not always to have been the case in actuality.47 D’Accone has suggested and Silberger assumed that Aringhieri did in fact travel abroad and serve among the

77 Knights on the island.48 The archives of the Knights of Rhodes that were salvaged and transferred to Malta when the Order was moved there in 1527 do not mention Alberto’s presence on Rhodes. It is possible, however, that proof of his service on Rhodes has disappeared with lost

documents dating from the late 1470s.49 A lack of reference to Alberto in the Sienese archival

record between 1472 and 1479 could lead to the hypothesis that he was on a Rhodian caravan

during this time, but such an idea remains pure speculation until corroborative evidence emerges.

There are no indications that Alberto ever married, and, despite the vow of chastity he

would have taken as a Knight of Rhodes, we know that he in fact fathered one child. My review

of Sienese baptismal records has revealed for the first time that an illegitimate son, Luzio, was

baptized on 12 March 1482; he was legitimized and apparently fully accepted in Siena as a

member of the Aringhieri family.50 As will be discussed further below, Luzio Aringhieri is of

particular importance for this study because of his involvement in the Order of Saint John,

although he seems best remembered for his traitorous acts against the Sienese state.

Alberto served his last term on the Balìa in the spring of 1506, and on 30 June of that

year he fled Siena, reportedly to Rome, fearful that he was about to be murdered by Siena’s

ruling despot, Pandolfo Petrucci.51 Aringhieri’s subsequent whereabouts, activities, and date of

death are unknown, as is the date of his interment beneath the pavement inscription located just

outside the entrance to the chapel of the Baptist.52

If a more comprehensive accounting of Alberto’s life evades us due to a lack of

documentation, then an understanding of his political views and actions proves even more

difficult to establish. Such an endeavor is important, however, given the prominence of the

Aringhieri family and Alberto himself in Sienese politics, and especially when considering the

possible political implications of the chapel of the Baptist. Augmenting the difficulty of this task

is the complicated nature of Sienese political history in the late fifteenth-century. This topic has

78 only recently been treated comprehensively by Shaw in an attempt to elucidate the major events

that occurred in Siena during the last twenty years of the Quattrocento.53

Crucial for understanding this period is the constant infighting that began around mid-

century between the three major Sienese political parties, or monti, the Popolo, the Reformatori,

and the Nove. Deemed responsible for an unrealized plot to bring Neapolitan troops into the city

to force a change in government, many Noveschi were exiled from Siena in 1456 as a result of

an investigation led by prominent Reformatori.54 The subsequent political strife that engulfed

Siena in the 1480s and 1490s stemmed in part from grudges held by the conspirators and their

families against the Reformatori and their supporters and the constant though unpopular call for

the repatriation of the exiled Noveschi.55 This led to a series of recriminatory actions, the worst

of which occurred in 1483, resulting in physical violence and the temporary expulsion of certain

Reformatori.56 In the end, the Noveschi triumphed in the person of Pandolfo Petrucci, whose relatives had been among the original exiles. He entered Siena in 1487 and took control of the

city, ruling as despot until 1512.57

Determining Alberto Aringhieri’s political sympathies and actions in the course of such

complicated affairs and based on scanty documentation is difficult at best, but the evidence at

hand seems to show that in terms of both internal politics and foreign affairs, he was a major

figure. It should be remembered that the Aringhieri were Popolari, the party often caught in the

middle of the conflicts between the Nove and Reformatori and forced to take sides, most often

aligning themselves with the former group. For example, several prominent Popolari, among

them Alberto Aringhieri, Paolo di Gherardo, and Andrea Piccolomini, helped to quell a major

riot in the Piazza del Campo on 29 October 1482, an uprising motivated by factional unrest and

followed by an effort on the part of the Monte di Popolo to mediate a reconciliation between the

Noveschi and the Reformatori.58

79 The presence of a Piccolomini alongside Alberto Aringhieri at that moment is not

surprising considering the personal and political ties established by intermarriage between the

two families. The Piccolomini were members of the Monte dei Gentiluomini, noble landed

houses that had been excluded from participation in Sienese government with the establishment

of the new Sienese Republic in 1404.59 Pope Pius II Piccolomini used his considerable influence

in 1459 to reinstate the Gentiluomini as full participants in Sienese politics, but this lasted only

until the pontiff’s death in 1464.60 Some of the Piccolomini, however, remained politically active as members of the Popolo, the same Monte as the Aringhieri, and they played a prominent role in the turbulent politics of the city in the 1480s.61 Beyond personal and political connections, Aringhieri, as Operaio, also would have interacted with the Piccolomini in regard to their commissions for the Cathedral. The driving force behind these seems to have been

Cardinal Francesco Todeschini Piccolomini, the future Pope Pius III, and a working relationship between Francesco and Alberto can be assumed.62

Alberto’s political independence, however, is underscored by a report from Pecci about activities that occurred in August 1483. 63 After having returned to Siena from Florence where

he negotiated a successful peace treaty with the Florentines, Aringhieri, along with Francesco

Marretti, Francesco Severini, and others, fled the city, apparently fearful of the repercussions of

their recent political activities. This seems related to their attempt to establish a more moderate

political party in Siena known as the Bigi.64 Alberto’s exile was brief and apparently not injurious to his standing, for as we have noted, he was soon serving the Sienese state again as ambassador to Milan in November of 1483.

At the same time, there is also evidence that Alberto and the Aringhieri family, like many

Popolari, were at times supportive of the cause of the Noveschi. On 16 August 1487, a plot by

the Reformatori to bring down four major Popolari leaders was foiled.65 These four, among

80 them Alberto Aringhieri, were specifically targeted for their support of the Nove and for

opposition to persecution of those who belonged to that particular Monte.66 It is interesting to

note in this respect that in early 1483 Alberto’s nephew, Fazio Aringhieri, son of his deceased brother Giovanni Battista, played a key role in the seizing of Monteriggioni, a small, walled town about nine kilometers north of Siena. Fazio helped a large number of Noveschi exiles enter and

occupy the town in the hope that by massing in such close proximity to Siena they would

threaten the city’s safety and thus force reinstatement of and concessions to members of their

party.67 Obviously, the Aringhieri were playing a major role in the tumultuous politics of the

day.

It is this type of support for the Noveschi that has led some scholars, like Strehlke, to

pronounce Alberto’s later politics to be pro-Petruccian.68 While Alberto may have been

favorable towards the Nove in general, it seems unlikely that he gave unconditional support to

the new regime led by Pandolfo Petrucci. From 1503 when he joined the Opera, Petrucci took a

decisive role in the affairs of the Cathedral, joining the Opera board in 1503 and dominating the

decision making and overshadowing Aringhieri who had been head of the Cathedral works for

22 years.69 It is hard to imagine Alberto’s agreement with some of the changes made to the

Cathedral under Petrucci’s dictatorship. The most famous of these modifications was the 1506

removal of Duccio’s much-celebrated Maestà, which had stood on the high altar since 1311, and its replacement by Vecchietta’s bronze sacrament tabernacle from the nearby hospital church of

Santa Maria della Scala.70 As will be discussed below, Petrucci’s influence on Cathedral affairs may have had a significant impact on the chapel of the Baptist as well.

It was just after Petrucci had his own father-in-law murdered in 1505 that Aringhieri fled

Siena for fear of a similar fate at the hands of the despot. This rash action does not lend credence to a hypothetical alliance between the two that has sometimes been posited. Aringhieri’s self-

81 exile can be seen, instead, as the culmination of growing tensions between the two men, and

Alberto’s realization that his life’s work, the direction of the continued evolution of Siena

Cathedral, had been wrested from his control.

Alberto Aringhieri and Siena Cathedral

During Aringhieri’s tenure as Operaio from 1480 to1506, much new decoration was

executed in Siena Cathedral, the chapel of the Baptist arguably the most important of all.

Alberto clearly had control of the visual agenda for the Cathedral and thus the projects he

initiated and the outside commissions he supervised constitute a major part of his legacy,

insuring his lasting fame in Sienese history. Two major decorative programs will be discussed

here to indicate the degree to which Siena Cathedral was transformed under Aringhieri’s

direction and to suggest their relation to the chapel of the Baptist.

The first of these constitutes one of the most unique aspects of the Cathedral’s

decoration: a series of figurative, inlaid marble pavements that covers nearly the entire floor of

the church (Figure 96).71 Begun as early as 1362, the planning and execution of these pavements

was an ongoing endeavor that extended through the fifteenth and into the sixteenth century.

Despite this extended period of execution, they seem to have been developed with at least a

general sense of programmatic purpose that was continued by Aringhieri.72 Panels created during his tenure include: the Massacre of the Innocents (1481-1485) attributed to Matteo di

Giovanni, the Expulsion of Herod (1482-1485) given to Benvenuto di Giovanni, and the Story of

Jephthah (1482-1485) by Neroccio di Bartolomeo, both located in proximity to the Baptist’s chapel in the north transept, and the Hermes Trismegistus (1487-1489) of Pinturicchio located in the nave in the forth bay from the entrance. A sequence of Sibyls (1482-3) was also executed by

82 at least six different artists in the side aisles.73 As we shall see, the subject matter and

positioning of several of the pavements can be directly related to the chapel of the Baptist and

augment its interpretation.

Dedicatory inscriptions along the borders of five of the pavements incorporate the name

of Alberto Aringhieri with a declaration of his membership in the Knights of Rhodes, each an

overt marker included by the Operaio to highlight his prominent role in the decorative evolution

of the Cathedral (Figure 97).74 Similar inscriptions can be found with other projects supervised

by Alberto, including the series of patriarchs and prophets of 1486 painted on the interior of the

drum of the dome by Benvenuto di Giovanni and Guidoccio Cozzarelli, and the refurbished, non-

figurative pavements in the Baptistery, also of 1486.75 Most important of all is the longer floor inscription located just outside the entryway of the chapel of the Baptist. This inscription, which acts as Alberto’s tomb marker, seems to have been laid at the time of his interment at some point after 1506. It recalls the more than twenty years he served as Operaio, and like other inscriptions honors his membership in the Order of Saint John. Most importantly, it credits him alone with the construction and decoration of the chapel of the Baptist, and records its dedication in 1504

(Figure 98).76 Although these inscriptions follow a well-established tradition in which previous occupants of the office of Operaio commemorated their works, Aringhieri’s name appears in the

Cathedral more than any other, a total of seven times.77

The second group of Cathedral projects was not initiated by the Operaio, but is significant for the use of an all’antica visual style similar to that emplyed in the chapel of the

Baptist. Small-scale works utilizing a classical vocabulary had been seen in the Cathedral prior to Aringhieri’s tenure as Operaio, most notably in the two marble holy water stoups carved around 1466 by Antonio Federighi and set up on either side of the nave near the entrance (Figure

99).78 Federighi made use of a variety of classical motifs, derived from Roman candelabra or

83 altars, including garlands of fruit and flowers, nereids, sphinxes, dolphins, seashells, and

palmettes.79 The application of abundant antique motifs has sometimes encouraged the

attribution to Federighi of the equally elaborate plinths that support the columns that define the

entrance to the Baptist’s chapel.

Two major projects of the Piccolomini family, commissioned by Cardinal Francesco

Todeschini Piccolomini and supervised by Aringhieri, expanded the use of a classical visual

language in the Cathedral on a monumental scale. The Piccolomini altar, originally conceived as

a tomb for the Cardinal, was carved primarily by Andrea Bregno in Rome and set up in the north

aisle of the Cathedral just after the mid-1480s (Figure 100).80 The altar’s shape recalls an ancient

Roman nymphaum, or elaborate fountain, with a classical architectural framework and statues in

niches. The monument incorporates dolphins, garlands, and cornucopia in relief in the friezes, as

well as winged Victory figures with candelabra in the upper level and flanking either side of the

central archway, much like the similar Victory figures on the façade of the chapel of the Baptist.

To the west of the altar is the Piccolomini Library (1492-1507), built to house the book

collection of the Cardinal’s famous uncle, Pope Pius II (Figure 101).81 The form of the doubled- arched façade has been compared to Roman triumphal arches, but it is the rich incrustation of the carved surface with antique forms that establishes the classical affiliation of this work. The pilasters on both levels are covered with candelabra, cornucopia, and military arms much like the pilasters on the façade of the chapel of the Baptist. Mythical hippocamps and griffins occupy the friezes, the latter beasts also comparable to those in the griffin frieze on the chapel’s façade.

Likewise, the putti with wreaths recall similar playful figures in the frieze defined by garlands that are also located on the chapel’s facade.

Similarities in the classical style of the Piccolomini altar and library, and the chapel of the

Baptist, positioned sequentially along the left side aisle and visible as one proceeds down the

84 nave towards the high altar, implies a unified stylistic program that must have been intentional.

Indeed, the sharp juxtaposition of the monuments’ white marble with the medieval stone banding

of the Cathedral wall behind each insists that they be read visually as a group. The antique forms

of the Piccolomini commissions can be related to the classical tastes so prevalent in the Roman

courts of Popes Sixtus IV and Innocent VIII, which would have influenced the Piccolomini

Cardinal. The all’antica style of the altar and library was utilized to call attention to the family’s

papal affiliation in the person of Pius II (and subsequently Pius III). The decoration of the

Piccolomini altar was in place before the completion of the chapel’s facade, but the library

façade was begun at the same time as the chapel and decorated concurrently, thus suggesting a

reciprocity between the monuments. Aringhieri, as political ally and friend to the Piccolomini,

adopted the same visual style for his own monument, thus providing visual evidence of the

association of the two families.82 Furthermore, as we shall see below in Chapter Three, the unified visual statement made by these three monuments relates not only to the influential tastes of the Piccolomini and their allies the Aringhieri, but also to a conscious program of civic promotion of Siena and its ancient Roman heritage.

Aringhieri Patronage and the Chapel of the Baptist

In addition to the pavement inscription, a painted tondo with the combined coat of arms of the Aringhieri family and the Cathedral Opera, originally located above the entryway to the chapel of the Baptist, identified the monument as a product of Alberto’s patronage.83 The tondo was destroyed with the chapel’s renovation in 1664, but some idea of its appearance can be ascertained from a similar coat of arms that still hangs on the interior of the drum of Siena

Cathedral just below the series of painted prophets. Within the chapel, a more personal level of

85 commemoration was achieved by means of Pinturicchio’s portraits of two kneeling figures,

painted in fresco on either side of the entryway on the interior of the chapel (Figure 35). On the

right, the image of an elderly, genuflecting man, wearing the robes of the Knights of Rhodes

characterized by the traditional eight-pointed white cross, can be identified as Alberto Aringhieri

himself (Figure 36).84 In the background is depicted a series of fortifications surrounded by

water, and an inscription in gold identifies the setting as the island of Rhodes. Alberto’s pose,

kneeling with hands clasped in prayer, is characteristic of donor portrait types that often occur in

altarpieces and chapel decoration.85 Its use here announces Aringhieri’s patronage of the chapel much like the painted tondo on the exterior.

Opposite this portrait, on the left side of the entrance, is a depiction of a much younger

man who is similarly represented as genuflecting. Unlike the older figure, the youth wears armor

and the battle dress of a Knight of Rhodes characterized by a white cross on a field of red (Figure

37). A more complicated background of fortifications by the sea is presented here, but no

inscription identifies the setting in this case. A modern art historical tradition holds that the

younger Knight also represents Aringhieri, but in this painting rendered as a youth.86 This is doubtful since collateral examples of this type of double portrait, in which a single individual is represented at different stages in his life, are rare and unknown prior to the sixteenth century.87

As we shall see, the identification of the young Knight as Alberto Aringhieri’s son Luzio, proposed for the first time in this study, holds the key to a proper reading of the two portraits and the significant role they play in connecting the chapel to the Aringhieri legacy of familial commemoration.

Important for our discussion of the chapel portraits is the history of Aringhieri family commemoration that has never been brought into discussion of these paintings. It was in Casole d’ Elsa that a trend of commemorative patronage on the part of the family first began to take

86 visual form in the early fourteenth century. Across from the Palazzo Porrina stands the

Romanesque Collegiata, where, by the beginning of the Trecento, the family had established a

chapel on the left flank of the church.88 A grand fresco of the Maestà, datable on stylistic terms

to the 1320s and currently attributed to the Master of the Casole Madonna, was painted above the

chapel’s altar (Figure 102).89 This fresco depicts an enthroned Madonna and Child surrounded

by angels and holy figures that present two kneeling men to the Virgin. Latin inscriptions below

each figure indicate their identities: to the left, Beltramo Aringhieri called il Porrina (died 1313),

a famous consistorial lawyer noted for his work for the papal court; and to the right, Rainieri

Aringhieri, who was Bishop of Cremona from 1296 until his death in 1317 (Figures 103-104).90

The presence of these two men, who were among the most celebrated members of the family,

represented in profile and genuflecting on either side of a sacred figure, would have provided

Alberto with a compelling model for the portraits that were painted in Siena over 160 years later.

The chapel in Casole d’ Elsa also originally housed the tomb of Beltramo, that has been

attributed to Marco Romano and dated to the second decade of the Trecento (Figure 105).91 Still

visible above Beltramo’s sculpted portrait is the painted stemma of the Aringhieri, the same that

still adorns the Palazzo Aringhieri in Siena and that appears in numerous commissions for Siena

Cathedral that were supervised by Alberto. The family chapel in Casole d’Elsa, then, with its

painted and sculpted images of the famous Aringhieri, established a strong foundation of familial

commemoration.

This commemorative spirit was continued by the family in Siena, focused now on the

church of San Domenico. While there is no known evidence for an Aringhieri chapel in that

church, the adjacent cloister was important as the family’s burial ground, beginning in 1374

when Niccolò was interred there on 29 September.92 Alberto’s father, brothers, and other relatives were laid to rest there as well, all clustered near the impressive wall tomb of Niccolò

87 Aringhieri that was sculpted by Goro di Gregorio .93 The tomb was composed of a sarcophagus

supported on columns with a sculpted recumbent effigy on top. All that remains today at San

Domenico, however, is the original epitaph and the area of the wall surface once occupied by the

tomb in the cloister (Figures 106-107). The monument was dismantled in 1818 and subsequently

reassembled in the courtyard of the University of Siena, incorporating elements from a similar

wall tomb of another, earlier university rector, Guglielmo di Ciliano (Figure 108).94 While both

the effigy and the relief panel on the reconstructed monument come from that other sepulcher, an

inscription naming Niccolò and the family coat of arms on the sarcophagus are still intact,

providing visual evidence that this imposing tomb was clearly marked as an Aringhieri memorial

(Figure 109). In its original setting, Niccolò’s prominent monument became a vehicle for

continuous family commemoration, linking subsequent generations of Aringhieri who were

buried near one of their most celebrated ancestors.

The insertion of personal imagery into the decorative scheme of the ostensibly public chapel has always been viewed as significant, since privatization of any portion of Siena cathedral had long been fought by the officials who directed its decoration.95 This was particularly true in the fifteenth century when it came to the erection of private chapels and the appropriation of major fourteenth-century altars, such as those dedicated to the city’s four patron saints. For example, although the prominent Pecci family was constructing a private chapel just outside the Cathedral next to the house of the canons, in 1442 they quickly transferred their patronage to the chapel of Sant’Ansano within the church after long negotiations with the Opera were successful.96 It was only after another ten years however, in 1452, that the family was finally allowed to move Donatello’s bronze tomb marker (1427) of Bishop Giovanni Pecci, who had died in 1426, into the chapel.97 Similarly, Bishop Carlo Bartoli was granted patronage rights to the chapel of San Crescenzio and in 1446 Pietro del Minella was hired to carry out the work,

88 but a year later the Cathedral Opera warned that only marble steps and the Bishop’s coat of arms

could be added to the preexisting chapel. Conflict ensued and Pope Nicholas V (1447-55) had to

issue a bull to pressure the Opera into fulfilling its commitment.98 Bartoli’s victory was short

lived, however, as in 1453 the Opera ordered the removal of the coat of arms of the Bishop and

its replacement with that of the Sienese commune.99 Personal commemoration in the Cathedral seems to have been more acceptable when not attached to a major altar or when significant changes to the fabric of the cathedral were not involved. The walls tombs of Cardinal Riccardo

Petroni, sculpted by Tino di Camaino in 1318, and of Bishop Tommaso Piccolomini del Testa, completed by Neroccio di Bartolomeo in 1485 seem to have been less problematic.100

Alberto’s privileged position as head of the Cathedral works board provided him with the authority to introduce personal imagery into the Cathedral and explains how he was able to succeed in this endeavor where others had failed. Clearly, Alberto’s portrait in the chapel of the

Baptist is groundbreaking in terms of Sienese private commemoration in public, and especially ecclesiastical, spaces.101

As we have seen, the cloister of San Domenico was an important focal point for

Aringhieri remembrance, offering a prominent example of familial commemoration. Other images on the site, moreover, may have influenced Alberto’s decision to include portraits of kneeling knights in the decoration of the chapel of the Baptist. A fresco of a knight dressed in armor and genuflecting before an enthroned Madonna and Child was visible in the church’s cloister as part of the tomb of Niccolò Giovanni da Fabriano, who died in 1375.102 Bacci has suggested that this painting provided an apt model for Aringhieri’s portrait in the Cathedral.103

More important is a fourteenth-century fresco fragment, attributed to Pietro Lorenzetti, now displayed inside San Domenico on the right of the nave but originally adorning the church’s exterior façade (Figure 110).104 In this image, a knight genuflects before an enthroned Madonna

89 and Child presented by John the Baptist. John’s intercession on behalf of the knight has led to speculation that the work was connected to the Knights Hospitallers of Rhodes, who it will be recalled took the Baptist as their patron saint.105 If true, then the fresco would have been

particularly appealing to Alberto as a model for his own chapel portrait, where he too is

represented as a Knight of Rhodes genuflecting before John the Baptist, represented by

Donatello’s bronze statue.

A particular tradition of commemoration on the part of the Knights of Rhodes seems to

have provided the immediate model for Alberto’s chapel portrait. Prior to the fifteenth century,

portraits of the Knights were generally limited to small-scale images in manuscripts, on coins

and seals, and within larger painted images.106 One important exception is the Oratory of San

Giovanni in Cascina, frescoed by Martino di Bartolomeo in 1398 at the expense of Knight

Bertoldo de Palmieri, Commander of Cascina and once Prior of the Order of Saint John in

Pisa.107 Painted at the end of the space are scenes of the Crucifixion and the Baptist’s martyrdom

whereas those on the side walls depict saints and allegorical virtues interspaced with scenes of

the Hospitallers fighting in the East. The decoration is completed by the insertion of the patron

genuflecting towards an adjacent fresco of the Baptist in an arrangement similar that of Alberto’s

portrait in the chapel in Siena (Figure 111). It is probable that Aringhieri was familiar with this

oratory, which he would have encountered on official travel to Pisa, the seat of the priory to

which his commandary belonged. A more certain connection, however, has been pointed out by

Schermerhorn.108 Bertoldo had been charged with the commandary of San Pietro alla Maggione

in Siena before becoming Prior of Pisa. This same commandary was entrusted to Alberto

Aringhieri in 1480.109

In Siena Cathedral itself, the bronze tomb slab of Bishop Giovanni Pecci has recently

been connected through its distinctive form to Hospitaller tombs in the Order’s commandary

90 church of S. Jacopo in Campo Corbolini in Florence (Figure 112).110 This is appropriate as Pecci

was himself a Knight, indicated by the cross of the Order that appears on his vestments in

Donatello’s effigy. This prominent project that was executed by an equally prominent artist

would have provided a ready precedent for Aringhieri’s artistic statement of Hospitaller

affiliation within the walls of the Cathedral. Although drawing on earlier Knightly tradition,

Aringhieri’s large-scale portraits stand at the beginning of a new trend of painted Hospitaller portraits that would reach its peak in the sixteenth and seventeenth century.111

Both familial and knightly commemoration intersected in the portrait of the young man depicted in the chapel. Missing from discussions of this painting is any mention of Alberto’s son, Luzio, who, based on the date of his baptism, 12 March 1482, would have been around 21 years old when Pinturicchio painted the fresco between 1503 and 1504. It is impossible, however, to be certain if the features of the knight are those of Alberto’s son as no other portrait of him is known. We know that Luzio followed his father’s lead by joining the Knight of Rhodes and eventually assuming Alberto’s old commandery of San Pietro alla Magione in 1525.112 If, indeed, the youth is Luzio Aringhieri, this would provide evidence that his entry into the Order occurred long before 1525. Although less likely, it is also possible that the presence of the portrait is to be understood in a prospective sense, expressing Alberto’s wish for Luzio’s future, one that paralleled his own path as a member of a distinguished military order. With this information in hand, one can suggest that the young knight in the chapel fresco, rather than representing a youthful Alberto, refers instead to his son Luzio Aringhieri.

If one accepts this idea, then there remains the question of why the identity of the young knight has been traditionally associated with Alberto and not Luzio. A possible answer may lie in the scandalous events that precipitated Luzio’s premature death in utter disgrace. In 1526,

Luzio conspired with the Florentines and Pope Clement VII to support Noveschi exiles in their

91 attempts to reenter the city and take control of the government.113 He hired several workmen

purportedly to dig a well on the grounds of San Pietro alla Magione but with the actual intention

of excavating under the nearby city wall to allow clandestine entry. One of the workers became

suspicious when asked to construct a long stairway to connect with an old mine shaft and promptly reported these activities to the authorities. Convicted of conspiracy, Luzio was tortured and decapitated at the entrance of the Palazzo Pubblico, while his accomplice Fabio di Cosma, the priest at San Pietro alla Magione, was hung from a window in the Palazzo del Capitano di

Giustizia. Perhaps this shameful affair was deemed unfitting for such a perfect figure of virtuous youth as that pictured in the chapel portrait. It is possible, therefore, that any association that existed between Luzio and the painted Knight, no matter how oblique, may have been deliberately suppressed.

The identification of the young knight as Luzio Aringhieri enhances the meaning of the chapel’s decoration, allowing us to view the portraits and the chapel itself as a more significant contribution to the tradition of Aringhieri commemoration. Rather than simply promoting the status of a single individual, the portraits act as a dynastic pair, the coupling of father and son to

stress the continuation of Aringhieri prestige from one generation to the next. They deliberately

refer to the similar paintings of Beltramo and Rainieri in the family chapel in Casole d’ Elsa, and

were meant to establish the chapel of the Baptist as a new locus for family memorial much like

the tomb of Niccolò Aringhieri in the cloister of San Domenico. The portraits also highlight the

membership of the Aringhieri in the Order of St. John, thus reminding the viewer of the family’s

nobility, since proof of an aristocratic lineage going back 200 years was an absolute requirement

for membership in the Knights of Rhodes.114

1. See Introduction, 7.

2. “Gradi della nobilità sanese descritta da Celso Cittadini...,” ASS, A18, fols. 69r, 79r. The family archives of the Aringhieri in Siena are divided between the Archivio di Stato and the Archivio dell’ Opera del Duomo. See Particolari Famiglie Senese 2, inserto Aringhieri, ASS; and Stefano Moscadelli, L’ Archivio dell’ Opera della Metropolitana di Siena. Inventario (Munich: Bruckmann, 1995), 278-280.

3. For Casole d’ Elsa, see Leas Cimino, Elisabetta Giffi Ponzi, and Vicenzo Passeri, Casole d’Elsa e il suo territorio (Radda in Chianti: Studium Editrice, 1988).

4. Petra Pertici, La città magnificata. Interventi edilizi a Siena nel Rinascimento. L’Ufficio dell’ Ornato (1428-1480) (Siena: Il Leccio, 1995), 44.

5. For Niccolò Aringhieri see Isidoro Ugurgieri-Azzolini, Le pompe sanesi o’vero relazione delli uomini, e donne illustri di Siena, 3 vols. (Pistoia, 1649), 1: 427.

6. Andrea Falorsi, “Risedute in diversi magistrati render raggione per reggimeto della città e Repubblica di Siena,” 1717, ASS, A.61, fol. 155r; G. Prunai, “Aringhieri,” Dizionario biografico delgi italiani (Rome: Società Grafica Romana, 1962), 4: 160-161.

7. G. Minnucci and Leo Kosuta, Lo Studio di Siena nei secoli XIV-XVI. Documenti e notizie biografiche (Milan: Giuffre, 1989), 295.

8. “Raccolta di denunzie di contratti di matrimonii tanto fra persone nobili sanesei,” 1714, ASS, A.34, 1: 27r. For a genealogical table of the Piccolomini family, see A. Lisini and A. Liberati, Genealogia dei Piccolomini di Siena (Siena: Enrico Torrini, 1900), plate 2. Both Silvestra and Enea Silvio (the future Pope Pius II) had a common ancestor in Rustichino di Chiaramonte di Ranieri Piccolomini, who was Silvestra’s great-great grandfather and Pius’s great-great-great- great grandfather.

9. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 1: 311-312.

10. Ibid.; A. Aurieri, “Raccolta di notizie riguardaut le famiglie nobili di Siena,” ASS, A.15, fol. 4r.

11. Ibid., 312; F.A. Vitale, Storia diplomatica dei Senatori di Roma, 2 vols. (Rome: 1791), 2: 442, 444-445.

12. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 1: 312.

13. Pertici, 44.

14. Ibid., 48.

15. Pertici, 72, n. 2; Piero Torriti, Tutta Siena: Contrada per contrada. Nuova guida illustrata storico-artistica della città e dintorni (Florence: Bonechi, 1988), 310-311; Alberto Fiorini,

Siena. Immagini, testimonianze e miti nei toponimi della città (Siena: Alsaba, 1991), 90. The Aringhieri palace may have incorporated the remains of a small fortified structure built in the early Middle Ages by one Count Azzolini Galli. In the Cinquecento the property came into the hands of the Gori family and was subsequently renovated in the seventeenth century by Giovanni Fontana at the order of Pope Alexander VII for his niece Olimpia who married Giulio Gori (thus the building is known primarily as the Palazzo Gori-Pannilini). Most recently the palace was home to the Hotel Continental.

16. For the Aringhieri coat of arms that is displayed on the palace, see “Armi gentilizie di famiglie illustri,” BCS, A.VI.41, fol. 2r.

17. Pertici, 48; George H. Edgall, “An Unpublished Fresco by Lorenzo Vecchietta,” Art Studies 2 (1927): 53.

18. Pertici, 44.

19. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 1: 312; Angiolo Maria Carapelli, “Notizie del Convento di San Domenico in Campo Regio di Siena,” BCS, B.VII.9, 1: 362v-363r.

20. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 1: 313; Carapelli, fol. 363r-v.

21. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 1: 314-316.

22. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, I: 313-314.

23. Ibid.

24. “Raccolta di denunzie di contratti di matrimonii tanto fra persone nobile sanesei,” 1741, ASS, A.34, 1: 27r. Margarita seems to have been interred in the cloister at San Domenico on 2 July 1464; see “Necrologia S. Domenico (morti dal MCCCXXXVI al MDIIIIC),” BCS, C.III.2, fol. 36r.

25. This is evidenced, for example, by the Aringhieri coat of arms on the Biccherna cover of 1548 when a Francesco Aringhieri was serving as a member. For the cover see L. Borgia, E. Carli, M.A. Ceppari, U. Morandi, P. Sinibaldi, and C. Zarrilli, Le Biccherne. Tavole dipinte delle magistrature senese (secoli XIII-XVIII) (Rome: Ministero per I beni culturali e ambientali, 1984), 242.

26. “Attenenze d’antichità,” ASS, D131, fol. 167; Fusai, 407-419.

27. Gigli, 2: 660.

28. Aronow, 208-209; Silberger, 237-238, 239-243. See also Ubaldo Cagliaritano, Mamma Siena. Dizionario biografico-aneddotico dei senesi, 3 vols. (Siena: Fonte Gaia, 1971), 1: 36.

29. Battezzati di Bicherna, ASS, 1133, fol. 74v; “Battezzati (Estratto di nomi di persone nobili battezzato in Siena),” 1713, ASS, A31, fol. 35r.

30. For a discussion of customs surrounding baptism in Renaissance Italy, see Jacqueline Marie Musacchio, The Art and Ritual of Childbirth in Renaissance Italy (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), especially 47-49.

31. Frank D’Accone, The Civic Muse. Music and Musicians in Siena During the Middle Ages and the Renaissance (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), 225; John Pope- Hennessy, “A Shocking Scene,” Apollo 115 (March 1982): 151. D’Accone has hypothesized that Alberto’s love of music began with lessons while a young child in Venice.

32. Pope-Hennessy, 151.

33. Gianfranco Fioravanti, “Alcuni aspetti della cultura umanistica senese nel ‘400,” Rinascimento 19 (1979): 119.

34. Falorsi, fol. 155v.

35. Allegretto Allegretti, “Diario delle cose sanesi del suo tempo,” BCS, A.VIII.42, fol. 40r; Tommaso Fecini, “Cronaca Senese di Tommaso Fecini,” Rerum Italicarum Scriptores 15 (1931): 870; Silberger, 240, n. 445.

36. Allegretti, fol. 47v.

37. Balìa, ASS, 20, fol. 65v, transcribed in Aronow, 498: “Visa electione facta per consilium populi de domino Alberto domini Francisci de Aringheriis in Operarium ecclesie cathedralis senensis, decreverunt quod non teneatur portare birretum cum vario neque alium habitum persone vel capitis ordinatum sed induere ut solitus est et ut sibi libuerit non obstantibus quibuscumque.” For Savini, who was removed from office on 23 June 1480 and exiled due to his political affiliations with the Monte de’ Riformatori, see Aronow, 191, n. 13, and 208.

38. Consistoro, ASS, 684, 688, 698, 761; Aronow, 209, n. 4.

39. Giulio Donati, “Spoglio delle deliberationi di Balia (1483-1499),” 1778, BCS, A.VII.20, fol. 9v, 20v, 71r.

40. Falorsi, fol. 156r.

41. Alberto was first elected to the Sienese Balìa in 1479 (Allegretti, fol. 86v). He was subsequently elected on 22 June 1480, 22 August 1480, 21 December 1480, 19 February 1481, 6 August 1482, 30 October 1482, 26 January 1483, 02 April 1483, 26 May 1483, 1 September 1496, 19 May 1503, 27 September 1503, 14 March 1504, and in March of 1506. See the Balà lists in Balìa, ASS, 21 and following volumes for each date in question.

42. Antonio Zazzeroni, “I Cavalieri di Malta alla Magione di Siena,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 89 (1983): 406-411.

43. Silberger, 240, n. 445.

44. Fecini, 870.

45. It is feasible that this reference to Alberto as knight may have been the product of confusion with the knighthood of either his father Francesco or his brother Giovanni Battista.

46. Balìa, ASS, 20, fol. 63r., transcribed in Aronow, 498: “Cognitis etiam virtutibus clari militis Ierosolimitani domini Alberti domini Francisci de Aringheriis et suis benemeritus propter que in novitate regiminis fuit et est aggregatus consilio populi et de balia prima et cognita eius modestia et probitate decreverunt declarare et declaraverunt quod in scrutinio et electione celebrande novi Operarii domi posit scrutinari et eligi non obstante quacumque vacatione obstaculo seu inpedimento tam statuorum quam iuris et maxime oblationis sey religionis et aliis vacationibus, statutes et reformationibus non obstantibus quibuscumque, quibis etc.”

47. Silberger, 240, n. 445; D’Accone, 225. As Silberger has pointed out, the General Chapter of the Order of Saint John of 1330 specified that before being promoted, Knights had to serve five years “in the convent,” to include three caravans aboard a ship for a total of a year at sea. She therefore assumes that Aringhieri spent several years on Rhodes to fulfill these requirements. D’Accone also suggests, based on Alberto’s membership in the Order, that he may have traveled to Rhodes or at least within the Venetian empire.

48. D’Accone, 225; Silberger, 240, n. 445.

49. Once a candidate for admission to knighthood had been accepted, official membership in the Order was proclaimed by magistral bull and registered in the chancellery. I could find no mention of Alberto Aringhieri among the archives of magistral bulls issued for the Priory of Pisa, which held jurisdiction over Siena, from 1471 to 1528, although the treachery of Luzio Aringheiri (see below), but not his entry into the organization, was recorded. The records of magistral bulls from 1479 have not survived. See Libri bullarum (Priory of Pisa), Archives of the Order of Saint John, Section 5, 380-412.

50. Battezzati di Bicherna, ASS, 1133, fol. 489r. Although listed properly in alphabetical order, the Aringhieri name itself, and that of Alberto, is missing from this baptismal entry, perhaps indicating the illegitimate status of Luzio at the time of baptism. An additional notation in the left margin, apparently added later, provides the family name. Further support for the date is provided by Mocenni, fol. 35r.

51. Tizio, 621; Guglielmo della Valle, Lettere sanesi, 3 vols. (1782-86; reprint, Venice: Arnaldo Forini, 1975-56), 3: 9; Aronow, 353. Tizio writes: “Postera autem die (30 June) Albertus Aringhierus eques Hierosolimitanus templique maioris Edituus cum popularim esset ex ordine Sena urbe migravit. Romamque sibi veritus concessit.”

52. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 2: 286, indicates Alberto’s burial in the Cathedral. Several subsequent Operai, including Lodovico (died 25 October 1668) and Lorenzo De Vecchi (died 26 November 1676), were also interred beneath the inscription in what Butzek has referred to as the “tomba dei rettori.” See Butzek, 60.

53. Shaw, 1997, 1998.

54. Ibid., 1997, 9-12.

55. Ibid., 1997, 12-102.

56. Ibid.

57. Shaw, 1998, 216-295. For Pandolfo Petrucci, see Giovanni Antonio Pecci, Memorie storico- critiche della città di Siena che servono alla vita civile di Pandolfo Petrucci (Siena: Vincenzio Pazzini Carli, 1755); and David Hicks, “The Rise of Pandolfo Petrucci,” Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1959.

58. Shaw, 1997, 68.

59. Fusai, 295-298; Kawsky, 205.

60. Ibid.

61. Shaw, 1997, 16.

62. For Fancesco Todeschini Piccolomini, see Alfred Strnad, “Francsco Todeschini Piccolomini,” Romisches Historiche Mitteilungen 8/9 (1964-1966): 101-425.

63. Pecci, 1: 31-32.

64. Ibid.; Cagliaritano, 1: 36.

65. Shaw, 1998, 225.

66. Ibid.

67. Ibid., 1997, 74.

68. Strehlke, 44.

69. “Serie dei Rettori e Operai dell’Opera Metropolitana,” ASS, A126, fol. 3v; Aronow, 508. Pandolfo Petrucci, along with Paolo di Vannoccio and Giovanni Guglielmi, served on the Opera board as “Savi” from 1503 to 1506, then as Operaio with these same two men from 1506, when Aringhieri fled Siena, until 1510.

70. See Bellosi, 1993, 204-205, 212-215. The tabernacle was moved to the Cathedral on 11 July 1506. The role of Pandolfo Petrucci in the affairs of Siena Cathedral is being studied comprehensively for the first time by Philippa Jackson of the Warburg Institute, University of London.

71. For the design and execution for these pavements, see Aronow who presents a comprehensive review of the documentation. See also Landi, 136-149; and Bruno Santi, The Marble Pavements of the Cathedral of Siena (Florence: Scala, 1982), for good illustrations.

72. Friedrich Ohly has proposed that the pavements were part of an overall decorative program in the Cathedral that represented the history of the salvation of mankind. He is one of the few, however, to address the problematic issue of the conceptual development of the Cathedral’s décor; Pope-Hennessy,152, for example, says that, “ the program of the Siena pavements was not distinguished for logic or consistency.” See Friedrich Ohly, La Cattedrale come spazio dei tempi: Il Duomo di Siena, M.A. Coppola, trans. (Siena: Accademia senese degli Intronati, 1979), 26-75; and Silberger, 265-66. Links between Aringhieri’s projects at least do seem certain, however, and will be discussed below where appropriate. Barbara Jean Bays apparently discusses the development of a coherent, symbolic decorative program in the Cathedral under Aringhieri’s guidance in her recent dissertation on the Piccolomini Library. Unfortunately, I have been unable to review her text. See Barbara Bays, “The Piccolomini Library in the Cathedral of Siena,” Ph.D. diss., Indiana University, 1999. See also Aronow, 373-374, for a brief discussion of the possible meaning of the pavements completed by Aringhieri.

73. Aronow, 207-385.

74. The pavement inscriptions are as follows: for the Massacre of the Innocents: TEMPORE F. ALBERTI D. FRAN DE ARINGHERIIS EQUITIS HYEROSOLYMITANI MCCCCLXXXII; for the Expulsion of Herod: TEMP D. ALBERTI D. FRANC ARINGHERII EQUITIS RHODI. MCCCCLXXXIII; for the Story of Jephthah: TEMPORE D. ALBERTI D. FRAN ARINGHERII EQUITIS RHODII MCCCCLXXXIII; for the Cumean Sibyl: TEMPORE D. ALBERTI D FRAN ARINGHERII EQUITIS RHODII HEC QUINQUE SIBILLAE POSITE SUNT MCCCCLXXXII; for the Hellespontian Sibyl: TEMPORE D ALBERTI D FRAN ARINGHERII EQUITIIS RHODII HEC QUINQUE SIBILLE POSITE SUNT MCCCCLXXXIII. The years mentioned in the inscriptions seem not to represent the date of completion, but a point earlier in the execution; Aronow has demonstrated, based on documentation, that all the pavements mentioned here were completed by 1485, with the exception of the Hermes Trismegistus. For the inscriptions of Cecchi and Savini, see Landi, 68-74; and Aronow, 420-421.

75. The inscription on the drum is as follows: TEMPORE F D ALBERTI D FRANCISCI DE ARINGHIERIIS ET PINXERUNT GUIDOCCIUS ET SEBASTIANUS DE SENIS MCCCCLXXXI; on the Baptistery floor: TEMPORE D ALBERTI D FRANCISCI ARINGHERII EQUITIS RHODII MCCCCLXXXVI. It is interesting to note that of all of Aringhieri’s dedicatory inscriptions, only the one high up on the drum, difficult to see with the naked eye, lacks a reference to the Knights of Rhodes. For the inscriptions, see Landi, 75; and Aronow, 328. For the painted patriarchs and prophets, see Lusini, 1939, 2: 142 with documentation; and Maria Cristina Bandera’s discussion following the recent restoration which revealed a new discovery – the painted inscription OPUS BENVENUTI; see Bandera, Benvenuto di Giovanni (Milan: Motta, 1999), 123-125. The sculpted frieze of seraphim on a blue ground just above the figures was also commissioned by Aringhieri and executed by Bastiano di Francesco in 1487. The inscription in the Baptistery is as follows: TEMPORE D ALBERTI D FRANCISCI ARINGHERII EQUITIS RHODII MCCCCLXXXVI. For the new black marble pavement in the Baptistery, which replaced a brick floor from the 1420s, see V. Lusini, Il San Giovanni di Siena e i suoi restauri (Florence: Alinari, 1901), 36; and Aronow, 328.

76. The inscription reads as follows: QUIDAM D. ALBERTUS D. FRANCISCI EQUES RHODI STETI / DE TEMPLI HUIUS DECORATIONI, INSTAURATIONIQUE SOLERTI CURA / AC INDUSTRIA OPERARII OFFICIO FUNCTUS IIII ET XX ANNIS / INSUDANS SACELLUMQ. HOC DIVO BAPT. JOANNI EXTRUCT. / HOC SIBI, UT ERGASTULUM VIVENS LIBER SPONTE CURAVIT A. D.M.D.IIII. For a transcription, see Landi, 87. The inscription has been damaged by the constant opening and closing of the chapel’s cancellata, which was moved closer to the pavement in the seventeenth century from a position at the interior entrance arch.

77. Comparable inscriptions appear with the floor pavements depicting David, executed under Operaio Bartolomeo Cecchi, with a date of 1424, and the Story of Judith, directed by Operaio Savino Savini, dated 1472. See Aronow, 500-501.

78. For a discussion of the two stoups, see Richter, 90-114.

79. Ibid., 92, 99. Several eighteenth and nineteenth-century chroniclers thought that the right stoup incorporated remains of an actual Roman altar in the base.

80. The altar/tomb became a cenotaph when, in 1503, Francesco, then Pope Pius III, was buried in the chapel of Sant’ Andrea in St. Peter’s in Rome, next to his uncle Pius II, rather than in the Cathedral in Siena. The body of the altar was produced by Bregno and a number of assistants; fifteen marble statues were commissioned from Michelangelo in 1501 to complete the work, although the vast majority of these were never made. For the Piccolomini Altar, see Landi, 115- 118; for Michelangelo’s involvement in the project, see H. R. Mancusi Ungaro, Michelangelo. The Bruges Madonna and the Piccolomini Altar (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971).

81. For the Piccolomini Library, see Salvatore Settis and Toracca Donatella, La Libreria Piccolomini nel Duomo di Siena (Modena: Panini, 1998); and Landi, 112-115.

82. Pandolfo Petrucci continued the use of an antique idiom in his own Cathedral commissions, most notably in the series of sculpted portrait busts (1498-1500) of Roman Emperors that were inserted in the spandrels of the nave arcade. These terracotta busts were produced in the workshop of the Mazzaburroni and then painted by Giacomo Pacchiarotto and Antonio and Piero di Giovanni. See Luini 2:138; and Settis, 238.

83. See Landi, 32.

84. This portrait of Aringhieri has often been compared with another portrait by the same artist in the adjacent Piccolomini Library. There, a male figure with similar facial features and wearing an identical black robe with the white cross of the Knights of Rhodes appears among numerous dignitaries assembled for the meeting of the Emperor Frederick III and his bride Eleanora of Aragon outside the Camollia gate in 1451. This individual has also been identified as Alberto Aringhieri, one of a number of anachronistic portraits of politically significant Sienese figures inserted into this visual recounting of a historical event. For a discussion of the identities of several figures in the fresco, see Shepherd, 230-205.

85. For donor portraits in the Renaissance, see John Pope-Hennessy, The Portrait in the Renaissance (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1966), 257-279.

86. The identification of the younger Knight as Alberto Aringhieri goes back at least to the seventeenth century, as evidenced by Alfonso Landi’s description of the two chapel portraits, and has been repeated with varying degrees of certainty in the scholarly literature ever since. For example, Phillipps, Strehlke, and Cohn identify the figure as a young Alberto Aringhieri; Torriti says the figure might represent a young Alberto; and others, like Todini, have simply referred to the figure as a young knight. Carli rightly points out that there is no documentation that proves the figure is in fact Alberto Aringhieri. See Landi, 37; Carli, 1979, 121; Evelyn March Phillipps, Pintoricchio (London: George Bell and Sons, 1901), 109; Strehlke, 44; Samuel K. Cohn, Jr., Samuel K, Death and Property in Siena, 1205-1800. Strategies for the Afterlife (Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1988), 113; Torriti, 110; and Filippo Todini, La pittura umbra. Dal duecento al primo cinquecento (Milan: Longanesi, 1989), 295.

87. An example of this type of double portrait can be found in the Poggi Chapel in San Giacomo Maggiore in Bologna decorated by Pellegrino Tibaldi between 1552 and 1555. Two frescoed portraits flanking the altar depict the same individual: the chapel’s patron, Cardinal Giovanni Poggi. On the right, a standing Poggi turns to engage the viewer; here he is represented in his role as papal ambassador to Spain. The portrait on the left presents Poggio kneeling at a prayer stool and facing the altar. In this instance, the patron is dressed in traditional cardinal’s attire and thus he is shown at a latter stage in his career. See Irving Lavin, Bernini and the Unity of the Visual Arts, 2 vols. (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), 1: 98.

88. G. Cianferoni, and A. Bagnoli, Museo archeologico e della collegiata di Casole d’ Elsa. (Florence: Studi per edizioni scelte, 1996), 61-62.

89. Ibid.; Cimino, Ponzi and Passeri, 99-101; P. Bacci, Fonti e commenti per la storia dell’arte sanese (Siena: Accademia delgi Intronti, 1944, 25-26; P. Torriti, Mostra di opere restaurate nelle province di Siena e Grosseto II - 1981 (Genoa: Sagep, 1981), 20-23; James Stubblebine, Duccio di Buoninsegna and His School (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1979), 110-115.

90. Cianferoni and Bagnoli, 66; Cimino, Ponzi, Passeri, 99; Bacci, 28-29. The painted inscription reads: D(omi)N(u)S [P]ORRINA, and D(omi)N(u)S RAINERIUS / EP(iscopu)S CREMONENSIS.

91. Cianferoni and Bagnoli, 124-131; Cimino, Ponzi, Passeri, 101-103; Aldo Rossi, “Novita sulla tomba dei Porina a Casole d’ Elsa,” Poliorama 2 (1983): 355-6; Alessandro Bagnoli, “Marco Romano” in Scultura Dipinta. Maestri di legname e pittori a Siena 1250-1450 (Florence: Centro Di, 1987), 30-33. Bagnoli notes another work attributed to Marco Romano and possibly commissioned by the Aringhieri, a polychromed crucifix in Radi di Montagne.

92. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 1: 427; M. H. Laurent, I necrologi di San Domenico in Camporeggio (Florence: G.C. Sansoni, 1937), 111; P. Bacci, “Il chiostro di S. Domenico in Siena e le sue fasi constrittive nel XIV e XV secolo,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 19 (1941): 6. Niccolò’s wife was also interred here on 6 August of the same year.

100

93. Carapelli, 286, fol. 304v. Carapelli’s plan of the cloister indicates that the tomb was just adjacent to a set of stairs leading up to a doorway into the church and thus just to the right of the chapel of Saint Catherine of Siena.

94. A.M. Giusti and E. Tucciarelli, “Sepolcro di Guglielmo di Ciliano e Niccolo Aringhieri,” OPD Restauro 2 (1990): 150-154; R. Bartalini, “Goro di Gregorio e la tomba del giurista Gugleilmo di Ciliano,” Prospettiva 41 (1985): 21-38; Mario Ascheri, Mario et al., L’ Università di Siena. 750 anni di storia, (Siena: Amilicare Pizzi, 1991), 334.

95. Strehlke, 44-45.

96. Ibid., 45.

97. Ibid. For Donatello’s bronze tomb slab for Bishop Giovanni Pecci, see Landi, 157; Janson, 75-76; and R. Munman, Optical Corrections in the Sculpture of Donatello (Philadelphia: The American Philosophical Society,1985), 31-34.

98. Strehlke, 45.

99. Ibid.

100. For the Petroni tomb, see Landi, 154-155; for the Testa tomb, see Landi, 155-156, and Coor, 73-75.

102. Cohn, 113, uses Alberto Aringhieri and the portraits in the chapel as his definitive example of the “most significant familial incursions… into the topography of Siena’s churches” and of Sienese “secular hubris.”

103. Laurent, 120, 269; Bacci, 1941, 2. Laurent attributes the fresco to Lippo Vanni, although this is rejected by Bacci. Sharon Dale has instead given the work to a follower of Vanni. See Sharon Dale, “Lippo Vanni: Style and Iconography,” Ph.D. diss., Rutgers University, 1984, 214- 215.

104. Bacci, 1941, 2.

105. Carlo Volpe, Pietro Lorenzetti (Milan: Electa, 1989), 194; E. Carli, Pietro e Ambrogio Lorenzetti (Milan: Silvana, 1971), 12.

106. Volpe, 194.

107. Julia Toffolo, Image of a Knight: Portrait Prints and Drawings of the Knights of St. John in the Museum of the Order of St. John (London: Museum and Library of the Order of St. John, 1984), 9; AnthonyLuttrell, “A Hospitaller in a Florentine Fresco: 1366/8,” Burlington Magazine 114 (June 1971): 362-366.

108. Maria Laura Cristiani Testi, Affreschi biblici di Martino di Bartolomeo in San Giovanni Battista di Cascina (Pisa: Pacini, 1978); Schermerhorn, 1940, 35-60, 359; Luttrell, 1992, 124.

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109. For further details about San Pietro alla Magione, see Chapter 4 below.

110. Geraldine A. Johnson, “Activating the Effigy: Donatello’s Pecci Tomb in Siena Cathedral,” Art Bulletin 77 (September 1995): 452-454. No comprehensive study of Hospitaller tombs has been undertaken; Schermerhorn, 1940, provides a brief survey in Chapter XIV: “How Sleep the Brave.” The sixteenth-century effigy of Luigi Tornabuoni, also in San Jacopo in Florence, is reproduced in Sire, 169. For tombs in the Order’s church in Rome, see Carlo Galassi Paluzzi, S. Maria del Priorato (Rome: Marietti, 1959).

111. For example, see Franciabigio’s A Knight of St. John of 1514 in the National Gallery, London; Titian’s Ranuccio Farnese of 1542 in the National Gallery, Washington, D.C.; and Caravaggio’s early seventeenth-century Knight Alof de Wignacourt in the Palazzo Pitti in Florence. A comprehensive account of painted Hospitaller portraits has yet to be produced.

112. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 2: 286; Zazzeroni, 409.

113. Cagliaritano, 3: 518-19; Pecci, 2: 198-199; M. Callegari, “Il fatto d’armi di Porto Camollia,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 15 (1908): 319-320.

114. The Italian langue of the Order required four quarterings of nobility, demanding proof of two hundred years of noble blood in terms of name, birth and arms. See for example Archives of the Order of Saint John, Section 15, Proofs of Nobility of Italian Knights, Archive 3937-4901.

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CHAPTER THREE

THE CITY OF SIENA AND THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST

The citizens of Siena viewed the Baptist’s chapel as a source of civic pride since it both

enshrined a significant relic, bringing with it a certain holy sanction to the city, and helped to

memorialize one of its celebrated sons, Pope Pius II. In fact, Pius’ presentation of the arm of the

Baptist was considered among the most important acts in Sienese history. This was underscored at

the end of the sixteenth century when a representation of the donation ceremony was included in a

series of frescoes in the Palazzo Pubblico depicting seminal religious and historical events in

Siena.1 Although heavily damaged and now nearly illegible, the fresco, located in a lunette on the

northeast wall of the Sala del Consiglio, shows an enthroned Pius presenting the arm to a prelate in

the presence of numerous cardinals (Figure 113). That the ceremony was chosen for this particular

cycle, which commemorated the pre-Medicean heritage of Siena, that it was painted in the

governmental seat, and that it was the second image to be produced in the fresco series, all confirm

the civic significance of the relic and its donation in the Sienese historical consciousness.

Although it is Pius’ great charity that is recalled in this scene, it must be remembered that the relic

was in truth not a gift, but a purchase by the government, which paid 1,000 gold ducats for the

sacred object.2 Thus, by virtue of the very means of its acquisition, from the beginning the hand of the Baptist formed part of the civic domain of the

Commune.

The keys to the cassone that housed the Baptist relic were held by both the religious and

103

secular authorities, the former consisting of the Cathedral Operaio and the Prior of its canons, the

latter by the Sienese government, specifically the Capitano del Popolo. Indeed, the relic could not

be shown without the approval of the Signori.3 It should be noted that on those occasions when

Aringhieri used his key to open the cassone, at certain times as both Operaio and Capitano del

Popolo, he was acting as a civil officer, elected by the city’s government. Possession of the keys,

and thus access to the relic, was considered a significant right to be protected on the parts of both

the civic and religious authorities. Evidence of a longstanding dispute over key retention between

the Sienese Balìa and the Cathedral canons is provided by a resolution to the problem brokered by

Cardinal Flavio Chigi in 1682.4 The Balìa’s contribution of one hundred denari towards the

construction of the Cathedral chapel of the Baptist in February of 1486 reveals, furthermore, an

interest in the project on the part of this ruling body, and provides proof that the monument was

considered worthy of state sponsorship.5

Given its association with the arm relic and the politically-active Alberto Aringheiri, the chapel of the Baptist inevitably became a locus of civic as well as religious importance. Any consideration of this monument therefore must take into account its possible meanings in the complicated political arena of late-fifteenth century Siena. Indeed, the last decades of the

Quattrocento saw a continuation of internal factional conflict in the city as well as numerous external threats. As we shall see, certain aspects of the chapel’s decoration broadcast politicized messages to a number of audiences both within and beyond the borders of the city. With this context in mind, this chapter will explore the specific political content of the chapel in terms of the contemporary codification of the antiquity of the city , Sienese-Florentine relations, and the emphasis on Siena’s early Christian heritage in the person of Saint Ansanus.

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The Chapel Façade as a Celebration of Siena’s Roman Foundations

Issues of politics and civic rivalry are raised by the first component of the chapel to be

encountered by viewers – the monumental, arched façade. (Figure 3). This architectural structure,

which serves as the frontispiece for the chapel and visually frames Donatello’s bronze statue of the

Baptist in the interior, has received little scholarly attention. The few studies that have addressed

the facade have focused on the sculpted pedestals that support the columns flanking the arch.

Questions of attribution have taken precedent, with little consideration of the significance of the

pedestals or the overall meaning of the entryway.6 As we shall see, the form and style chosen for

the portal were tied intimately to long-standing civic traditions that promoted Siena’s venerable past.

The chapel facade formed part of what has been described as a wave of ancient Roman imagery that was introduced in the Cathedral during the 1480s and 1490s.7 This interest in

antiquity in Siena may well have begun in the mid-fifteenth century with the influence of the

humanist, Pope Pius II. The proliferation of Roman visual forms in the late Quattrocento, and

especially in the Cathedral, should be seen as more than simply a continuation of previous trends

however. It also moves beyond an attempt to update or classicize the conservative Sienese visual

style that so was closely tied to the city’s late medieval artistic legacy.8 In fact, those projects

developed in the Cathedral that utilized an antique visual language, including the Baptist’s chapel,

can be seen as responding to a specific civic crisis. During the same period, the venerable Roman

origins of Siena were being challenged by the city’s traditional nemesis, Florence.

The animosity between Florence and Siena dates back to the Middle Ages when the

Sienese established a commune with Ghibillene sympathies in direct opposition to Florentine

Guelph support of the papacy.9 In 1260 the Sienese banded together with Florentine exiles to lead

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a contingent of Tuscan Ghibillenes against Florence. On the eve of the battle, facing

overwhelming odds, Siena’s governmental officials joined the clergy in a solemn procession to the

Cathedral where they offered the keys of the city to the Virgin, vowing to dedicate Siena to the

holy Mother should she come to the aid of the Sienese in this time of crisis. 10 The two sides clashed the next morning at Montaperti. Siena claimed victory, attributed in part to a deep white mist that hung over the battlefield which was identified with the Virgin’s robe descending from

Heaven. This triumph was short lived, however, and future Sienese victories over the Florentines were rare, as Florence dominated Siena in nearly all subsequent military engagements.11 Perhaps this is why the Sienese seem to have clung so strongly to the meaning and traditions surrounding the Battle of Montaperti, even hundreds of years later. The real significance of the battle is seen in the fact that it was on the eve of this conflict that Sienese leaders laid the future of the city in the hands of the Virgin. With the seemingly miraculous victory that occurred on the following day, the

Virgin became the supreme patron of Siena. The importance of the fact that the city’s principle civic cult grew out of a direct conflict with Florence cannot be overstated and is crucial for the arguments that follow. Subsequent relations between the two cities were unstable, with periods of peace alternating with those of conflict, particularly when it came to matters of territorial control.

Florence always seemed to be encroaching on the Sienese contado, or outlying territories, to the north and west of the city, to which Siena responded by expanding further south. The importance of the contado as a means of economic support for Siena increased in the fifteenth century, thus making these lands more crucial than ever for the well being of the city.12

The tumultuous relationship between Siena and Florence in the Quattrocento was typical of the long and volatile history shared by the two communes and forms the background against which to consider the political meaning of the Baptist’s chapel. With the expulsion of the Milanese from

Siena in 1404, a new Republican government was founded that immediately formed an alliance

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with Florence, both to secure its newfound liberty and to allow a respite from hostilities in order

to carry out much needed repair and restoration of the city and contado after recent political

strife.13 Peace with the Florentines lasted only until 1431, ended by the outbreak of the Lucchese

War, but the period of the alliance has been seen as a time of strong cultural contacts between the cities, especially in terms of art and literature.14 Strong anti-Florentine feelings among the

Sienese, apparently a result of Florence’s attempt to control nearly all of Tuscany, persisted until

1456. In that year Sienese supporters of King Alfonso of Naples tried to overthrow the government and take over Siena.15 As Kawsky has pointed out, Florentine activities in this period, such as attacks on Sienese territories in 1454, led to a revival of the powerful traditions and political inspiration that was provided by the thirteenth-century Battle of Montaperti, which was codified and updated by Niccolo di Giovanni Ventura’s treatise Sconfitta di Montaperti in 1443, and echoed by the official rhetoric of some members of the city’s ruling body at the time who argued for armed engagement with Florence.16

A new era of peace between the cities was ushered in after the unsuccessful coup in Siena of 1456, but hostilities were revived in the aftermath of the Pazzi conspiracy of 1478 in which

Giuliano de’ Medici, brother of Lorenzo the Magnificent, was murdered in the Cathedral of

Florence.17 Blaming in part the nephews of Pope Sixtus IV, the Medici began a war that pitted themselves against the forces of the pontiff, who received military support from Naples. The

Sienese saw in the situation an opportunity to advance the borders of their contado, and perhaps regain some territories that had been previously lost to the Florentines. They took up arms alongside the Neapolitans forces with the understanding that all Florentine lands taken within fifteen miles of Siena would be given to the city.18

In 1479, at Poggio Imperiale, the Sienese scored a tremendous and rare victory over

Florence, a triumph that drew parallels with that other famous Sienese victory at Montaperti.19 All

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further campaigns were cut short, however, by Lorenzo de’ Medici’s skillful diplomatic

maneuverings with Naples, but much of the land that should have gone to Siena was never

relinquished, and the terms of the peace required that those Florentine territories that had been

given over to the Sienese be returned immediately.20 It was the status of these newly-conquered

territories, for the Sienese the rightful reward for their assistance in the war, that become the most

problematic point of contention in the relations between the two communes.21 Concerned about

Florentine aide to Sienese exiles who were plotting to take over Siena, the reggimento, or city

government, finally returned these lands back to Florence in 1483 in order to secure a new peace

treaty.22 Significantly, this unpatriotic act was at first kept secret from the Sienese people, who

apparently would have been outraged at such a capitulation to their traditional rivals. Thus the

history of the two cities just prior to the inception of the chapel of the Baptist was marked by a

constantly shifting relationship, the stability of which was undermined to some degree by the

revived legacy of the Battle of Montaperti.

Questions concerning Siena’s ancient past were raised as part of the on-going conflict with

the Florentines. Florence had claimed to have been founded as a Roman colony under Julius

Caesar in first century B.C.23 As early as the beginning of the fourteenth century, the Florentine

historian Giovanni Villani stated that Siena had no ancient Roman history, but rather was founded

by a Gaul, Charles Martel, as late as 870. The same view was maintained by Leonardo Bruni, the

chancellor Florence, in his Historiae Florentinae begun in 1415, and from there entered into the mainstream of Renaissance historiography as can be seen in the Italia illustrata of 1453 by Flavio

Biondo.24

The issue of Siena’s Roman past was a matter of pride for the Sienese and especially for

the new Republican reggimento, which took over the government in 1404 with the exit of the

Milanese governor.25 It was thus important at this time for Siena to assert its assumed Roman

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origins, especially in relation to its archenemy Florence, which was claiming a Roman founding of

its own. The Sienese countered with a story, perhaps already adumbrated in the fourteenth century,

that placed their beginnings much earlier than 870, and even earlier than that of Florence, in the

age that saw the establishment of Rome itself. In a reprise of the legend of Rome’s foundation by

Romulus, it was said that the twin sons of his brother Remus, Aschius and Senius, fled Rome in

fear of their murderous uncle Romulus, taking with them the famous statue of the lupa (she-wolf)

from the temple of Apollo.26 At the end of their flight, they constructed a fortification on a site that

eventually became Siena, thus linking the founders of Rome with those of Siena.

An emphasis on Roman themes in Sienese civic art, usually considered a phenomenon of

the fifteenth-century, appears already in the previous century. A marble she-wolf, a reference to

the foundation myth of Rome, was sculpted by Giovanni Pisano in the early fourteenth century for

the facade of the Cathedral.27 This symbol of Rome appears again, with the suckling twins, in

Ambrogio Lorenzetti’s fresco Good Government (1338) in the Sala dei Nove in the city hall, the

Palazzo Publico, and in one of the figurative pavements (1370s) in the Cathedral.28 Solberg has suggested an early date for the formulation of the legend of Aschius and Senius, stating that the twins in Trecento images might be identified as these founders of Siena, rather than as Romulus and Remus.29 Simone Martini’s Marcus Regulus (1330) and Ambrogio Lorenzetti’s Scenes from

Roman History (1337), both no longer extant, further illustrate the range of Roman imagery painted in the Palazzo Pubblico prior to the Quattrocento.30

The new Sienese government installed in 1404 after a period of domination by the

Milanesi made good use of Roman legends in promoting the city and its political values. As has been pointed out, themes relating to the ancient Roman past readily found a place alongside veneration of the city’s major patron, the Virgin, in civic art commissions of the early

Quattrocento.31 A conspicuous example of this is the proliferation of sculptures of the she-wolf

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with suckling twins, commissioned by the government and erected atop columns at prominent sites

around Siena. The first of these lupe, fashioned of gilded bronze by Giovanni di Turino, was set up

in 1429 in front of the Palazzo Pubblico, but they were also deployed along the Strada Romana at

major piazze and intersections, including the Piazza Tolomei, the Croce del Travaglio, the Piazza

Postierla, and the Ponte di San Maurizio; on the Porta Romana, the gate that led out of the city and

towards Rome; and at the Cathedral where another was added in 1487 (Figure 114).32 Other early fifteenth-century artistic projects in Siena incorporated related Roman imagery and iconography.

Jacopo della Quercia’s Fonte Gaia (1419), located in the Piazza di Campo before the Palazzo

Pubblico, features sculpted figures from Rome’s foundation myth, including Rhea Silvia (mother of

Romulus and Remus), and Acca Laurentia (the woman who raised the boys after their stint with the she-wolf), who is shown with the young twins.33 In 1414, Taddeo di Bartolo extended the

Trecento fresco cycles in the Palazzo Pubblico when he painted a series of Roman Republican heroes in the Antechapel.34

Although much has been written concerning the use of imagery in the early fifteenth century to reinforce the myth of Siena’s Roman origins, particularly in the service of the new Republic, the same cannot be said for the later part of the century. Nevola has rightly refuted Strehlke’s assertion that literary attention to foundation myths in the later period did not inspire any civic art as it had earlier in the century.35 He is also correct in calling for a revaluation of the relationship between these new histories and the visual culture generated in the city at this time.36

Perhaps the most important achievement of Sienese humanists in the second half of the century was the codification of the city’s foundation myths, expressed as fact in numerous treatises and histories relating the origins of Siena and describing local Roman sites and monuments, both extant and lost. The famous legend of Aschius and Senius mentioned above was given written form for the first time around 1472 by Tisbo Colonnese who has been identified as Francesco

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Patrizi.37 This was followed by a spate of literary works in the following decades regarding the ancient city, among the most important being the 1472 text by Patrizi himself, De origine et antiquitate urbis Senae; Bartolomeo Benvoglienti’s De urbis Senae origine et incremento, produced between 1484 and 1486; and Agostino Patrizi’s De Senarum urbis antiquitate of

1488.38 These laid the foundation for the ultimate history of Siena produced in the Renaissance, the Historiarum senensium of Sigismondo Tizio, completed in 1506.39

The driving force behind many of these works was the nephew of Pope Pius II, Cardinal

Francesco Todeschini Piccolomini, who held a prominent position at the center of a humanist circle in Siena, and who commissioned the aforementioned histories from the Patrizi and

Benvoglienti. In effect, his patronage continued the interests of his uncle who had defended the city’s antiquity and origins from those would denythem. 40 It is important to remember that these humanists also had a connection to the Cathedral, as Francesco and Agostino Patrizi and

Bartolomeo Benvoglienti were often cannons of the Cathedral. Alberto Aringhieri would have been privy to this group and familiar with the writings it inspired. That Alberto himself may have had humanist interests is supported, as mentioned above, by his possible upbringing in the papal court in Rome, and his choice of rare subject matter for several of the Cathedral’s figurative f pavements, such as the Hermes Trismegistus and series of Sibyls.41

The Chapel Façade as Gateway to Siena’s Roman Past

As we have noted, the facade of the Baptist’s chapel, with its single arcuated bay flanked by columns on pedestals and its all‘antica sculptural decoration, makes reference to ancient

Roman honorific arches. The fact that the treatises of the Patrizi, Benvoglienti, and Tizio make mention of ancient Roman arches in Siena is therefore important to any consideration of the

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façade’s meaning. Beyond the triumphal message of Christianity’s victory over paganism posited in Chapter 1, the chapel’s façade also participated in the Sienese response to questions concerning the antiquity of the city.

The possible existence in Siena of one ancient arch of special significance was supported

to some degree by archaeological evidence that was visible in the late fifteenth century.42 At the beginning of the present-day via Montanini, just inside the Porta Camollia and north of the Piazza

Salimbeni, are the remains of two, paired towers on either side of the street (Figure 115).

Considered among the oldest structures in the city, they were thought to mark the distance of one hundred miles from Rome, and to have flanked the main road leading from Siena to the Eternal

City.43 In the Quattrocento this thoroughfare, known since the Middle Ages as the Strada Romana, constituted part of the main pilgrimage route that ran from Siena’s northern entrance to the Porta

Romana to the south, where visitors exited the city and continued on to Rome.44 An arch, cited variously as the Arco di San Donato, Arco Antico, or, even more significantly, Arco dell’

Imperatore, spanned the street between the towers.45 According to Benvoglienti, this arch had been destroyed just a few years before his writing and he expresses his outrage by claiming that it was

an act worthy of damnation. Some sense of the arrangement, however, may be gained from Pecci’s

seventeenth-century reconstruction.46 Benvoglienti also mentions the incorporation of two fragmentary Roman inscriptions, reading ET VALE and VERO respectively, set into the side of the tower to the west of the Via Montanini (Figure 116).47

Francesco Patrizi had stated in his De origne et antiquitate urbis Senae that the ancient city included several triumphal arches decorated with columns and trophies in the double-arched form, such as that visible in the example of Siena’s Arco delle Due Porte at the bottom of the Via

Stalloreggi.48 He goes on to refer to an arch dedicated to Servero and Valeriano (or Valentino),

Roman prefects supposedly called to pacify the Sienese by Emperor Antoninus Pius. This arch has

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been identified as that described by Benvoglienti and recently destroyed in the Via Montanini, with

the incomplete inscription cited as proof.49

The specific location of the arch also would have established its importance and amplified its associations with the ancient city. The structure’s position, just inside the city walls, may have suggested the northern boundary of the original Roman colony. The street that ran beneath the arch, the via Romana, was used for festive diplomatic entries of foreign dignitaries and heads of state, clearly imitating ancient Roman Imperial triumphs.50 This arch also would have been of significance for Alberto Aringhieri, as his family palace was located only meters away on the via di Banchi. He no doubt would have been aware of its existence and its identification as the remnant of an ancient triumphal arch, testimony in his own neighborhood of the Roman heritage of the city that could have provided a conceptual model for his chapel facade.

While the Arco dell’ Imperatore may have offered one source of inspiration for Alberto’s project, another, more famous, example must be stressed in this discussion. Siena’s legendary

Porta Aurea, also known as the Porta Castelvecchio and Porta S. Quirico, supposedly stood in the

Castelvecchio, the area that comprised the original Roman settlement. This arch was interpreted as recently as 1906 by Bargagli Petrucci as a monument erected in the city to honor the Emperor

Trajan.51 His description of this lost arch, indicating the location of archaeological remains, may be seen as the culmination of a long interest in literary reconstruction of ancient Sienese monuments that had only begun with the humanist treatises of the late Quattrocento. Cristofani has pointed to the proliferation and fantastic nature of these types of reconstructions, and declared that the identification of the Porta Aurea as a triumphal arch was an invention of a seventeenth-century antiquarian, Giulio Piccolomini.52 Sources indicate, however, that the Porta Aurea did exist, but rather than being a triumphal arch, it functioned as the principle monumental gateway to the Roman city.

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The arch’s evocative name, Porta Aurea, may be a Latin translation of the Italian Porta

Oria, which is recorded as early as 1230 in a Biccherna entry indicating the removal of marble from the gate for use in the construction of nearby structures.53 Although there seems to have been some confusion since the seventeenth century as to the exact location of this portal, Leoncini has convincingly identified its site between the oratory of S. Ansano and the convent of S. Margherita, where the modern via S. Quirico slopes downward toward the Piano dei Mantellini.54 This location is confirmed by Benvoglienti, who refers to the gate as the Porta del Castello.55

Subsequent tradition speaks of Roman sculpture, either in marble or terracotta, on this gate, including a phallic figure perhaps related to the cult of Bacchus. The existence of such decoration on this portal has been used as supporting evidence for its function as the city’s main gateway, certainly worthy of decoration as the principal entrance to the site.56

If the Porta Aurea is to be considered as a source for the chapel’s facade, one must first reconcile the difference between a true honorific arch, as created in the chapel facade, and a city gate, as described by Benvoglienti. While the discrepancy seems significant, a consideration of the question leads us to a point that only strengthens the argument. In the medieval period, the distinction between honorific arches and city gates began to disappear altogether. According to

Gardner, they were iconographically indistinguishable by the thirteenth century.57 This occurred visually and functionally when the remains of Roman arches were incorporated into city walls and fortifications, and used as access ways, as was the case, for example, with the Arch of Augustus in

Rimini, which is still crowned by late medieval defensive crenellations (Figure 117).58 In this way, the contemporary viewer’s experience of originally freestanding monuments was tempered by the combination of forms, specifically the transformation of honorific aches into gateways.

Likewise, ancient Roman portals came to be decorated with architectural elements and statuary, thus mimicking the function of the triumphal arch as an elaborate stage for sculptural

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display.59 Further evidence of the elision of the two types is apparent in the widespread use of the

term Porta Aurea for old gates in Italians cities claiming an ancient heritage. It is significant that

some of these were originally Roman arches, such as those at Benevento and Ravenna.60

The application of arched Roman forms to newly-realized portal structures in the

Renaissance, furthermore, demonstrates renewed attention paid to these remains and confirms that

a specific connection was made between ancient honorific arches and city gates, one that was

recognized in the mid-fifteenth century by Alberti.61 In Venice the use of the triumphal arch was

pressed into service by the Republic in part to establish a link to a venerable ancient past that the

city never had, having been founded in the early Middle Ages.62 In particular, the form of the

Arsenale Gate (1460) was based on the Roman funerary arch of the Sergii (c. 29 B.C.-2 A.D.) at

Pola that was incorporated into the city’s medieval walls as a gate.63 The monumental, ceremonial entrance to the Ducal Palace in Venice, the Arco Foscari (1450-1464, 1478-1485) created by

Antonio Rizzo and others, utilized the triumphal arch motif in the city’s center of political power.64

In drawing on a well known ancient Roman architectural type, the honorific arch, that imparted visual support to the city’s supposed antique origins, the architecture of fifteenth-century Venice provided an apt model for the Sienese who were attempting to substantiate their own venerable past.

Thus, it is feasible that the ancient Roman arch imitated in the chapel’s facade could have been understood to draw a reference to the city gate type, in this case the main portal of ancient

Roman Siena, the Porta Aurea. The civic importance of the Castelvecchio, the Porta Aurea, and therefore the chapel’s arch is suggested by visual representations of the ancient fortified gate in civic contexts. A thirteenth-century city seal featured on one side the Castelvecchio, complete with three towers and three passageways, precisely as it was described by Benvoglienti (Figure

118).65 More important, a relief at the base of Giovanni di Turino’s Lupa erected outside the

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Palazzo Pubblico in 1430 displays the stemma of the Compagnia Militare di S. Quirico in

Castelvecchio; this includes another depiction of the Castelvecchio with a single, monumental

entrance that seems to be adorned with a column (Figure 119).66 The juxtaposition of such

imagery with the bronze she-wolf and twins, which was adopted as a civic emblem, makes a

specific reference to the Sienese Republic’s enviable antiquity (Figure 120). This image would

have provided a source of comparison for late fifteenth-century viewers, allowing them to recognize in the chapel’s facade a similar allusion to the Porta Aurea, literally a gateway to the city’s ancient past.

Certain elements of the chapel’s façade, specifically, the column pedestals and the columns themselves, reinforce the reference to the Porta Aurea and thus the antiquity of Siena. As we shall see, the decoration of the pedestals and the color of the stones used in the columns, although both elements were manufactured in the fifteenth-century, can be read symbolically as spolia, or reutilized ancient fragments of architecture and sculpture, meant to provide physical proof of the city’s venerable history. In Siena itself, relatively few examples of authentic ancient spolia were visible, apparently reflecting a local scarcity of Roman remains that led ultimately to the importation of ancient materials from the Sienese contado. On the one hand, the composition of many of the city’s medieval towers, and even the Cathedral itself, was thought to have been constructed in part utilizing stones taken from nearby Roman ruins.67 On the other hand, many of the more visible antiquities, such as several columns supporting sculptures of the civic she-wolf in piazze around Siena, were clearly imported, though some recognized them as being of local origin.68

This is not to say, that instances of ancient spolia were entirely unknown in Renaissance

Siena. In the Romanesque church of San Quirico, for example, a small head of a maenad sculpted in giallo antico marble was inserted into the base of an engaged column at some point during the

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Middle Ages.69 Similarly, a fragmentary sculpture of a semi-nude female figure was seen in the

fifteenth century embedded in the wall at the convent of Santa Margherita.70 The most famous

ancient discovery made in Siena, a statue of Venus, received a curious, pre-Renaissance reception,

perhaps indicative of early attitudes towards spolia that may account for their paucity in the city.

According to several sources, including Lorenzo Ghiberti, the statue was unearthed in 1348 by

workmen digging foundations near the home of the Malavolti family. 71 It was immediately

recognized as the goddess of love and the artist identified as the famed Lyssipos, thanks to a supposed inscription that read opus Lysippi. The statue was set up on the Fonta Gaia in the Piazza del Campo, where it remained for a short time. Its early removal seems to have been tied to an unfavorable turn of events for the Sienese, leading some to claim superstitiously that it was the pagan idol that was to blame. The Venus was subsequently cut into several pieces and buried on

Florentine soil with the apparent intent of transferring any bad luck inherent in the work to the enemies of the Sienese.

That this incident of late medieval suspicion of ancient art in Siena was not typical is evidenced by the reuse of antique objects in Siena Cathedral. Significantly, the site of the

Cathedral was considered among the most ancient in Siena, having in Roman times been the supposed location of a temple dedicated to Minerva.72 Ancient remains found nearby or inside the

Cathedral would have been perceived as proof of the antiquity of the area. The use of spolia in this civic as well as religious center can be related to contemporary efforts to define Siena’s antiquity employing archaeological remains as concrete evidence. One example, a Roman sarcophagus carved with nymphs and tritons, was thought to have been found near the Cathedral and by the late Quattrocento, it was housed in the sacristy and was employed as a basin for holy water (Figure 121).73 Furthermore, Benvoglienti and Tizio both describe an ancient marble inscription inserted in the wall of the Cathedral that referred to the goddess Minerva, perhaps a

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remnant of the ancient temple.74

A reference to the use of spolia seems apparent in the two marble column pedestals on the chapel’s façade. Each is carved in relief with various ancient motifs (Figures 9-14). The pedestal on the right of the chapel’s entrance incorporates the heads of rams and sitting griffins in the corners, while the side panels feature swags of fruit-laden garlands. Between the swags and the top cornice are several scenes: a nereid riding a triton, Hercules battling the Nemean Lion, and a nude horseman trampling the enemy. The pedestal to the left of the chapel’s entrance is similar, with goat heads at the top and sirens in the bottom corners respectively. The same garlands appear on this pedestal, although the scenes are replaced by paired shields and a ritual libation bowl.

As previously discussed, the all’antica details of the pedestals’ relief decoration make

clear their allusion to Roman funerary altars. The exact type is that which was common in the first

and second century, recognizable by basic characteristics such as a front carved with fruit garlands

or swags, sides with ritual libation vessels (pateras) and pitchers, and with corners bounded on

top by the heads of rams and on the bottom by griffins and sirens.75 The impression that the chapel

pedestals are spolia is communicated not only by their employment of ancient forms and motifs,

but also by the apparent disjunction between the known uses of those forms and their new function

in the chapel facade. Educated people of the Renaissance were well acquainted with Roman

funerary altars and knew their original purpose, thus insuring their typological identification as

objects entirely foreign to ancient honorific arches. It is also clear that the sculptor of the chapel’s

right pedestal was keenly aware of the nature of Roman altars, for on the right side panel, just

adjacent to a scene of Hercules struggling with the Nemean Lion, there is carved a small altar,

alight with fire and decorated with a swag of fruit, paralleling the form of the very altar on which

it is depicted (Figure 122).

On close inspection, it becomes apparent that, although similar, the two pedestals are not

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exactly alike, with differences evident not only in decorative detail, but also in the level of relief and style. Such a simple incongruity as apparently mismatched column pedestals in a thoroughly

Renaissance monument lends supports to the symbolic reading of the supports as spolia. Indeed, for several hundred years, the right hand pedestal, with its higher relief and use of figures, was held to be a genuine piece of Roman sculpture that had been employed in the facade’s construction.

Pecci made sketches of it in the seventeenth century and perpetuated the idea that it had been

unearthed in Ansedonia and transported to Siena.76 Bargagli Petrucci also accepted its antiquity

and suggested, significantly, that it had once been part of the Porta Aurea.77 With the advent of a

more rigorous notion of archaeology in the nineteenth century, both pedestals were correctly

identified as works of the late fifteenth century.78 As late as 1913, however, Lusini still

maintained that the right hand pedestal was antique, made of pieces of a frieze from an unspecified

triumphal arch.79

If the antique style of this pedestal was so convincing as to mislead scholars for centuries,

then it seems possible that the artists responsible for both pedestals had a specific intent in mind

when creating so close an imitation of ancient sources. Indeed, it can be argued that the pedestals

were produced specifically to resemble spolia and thus meant to read symbolically as recycled

fragments from the Classical past. This type of high quality antique imitation in fifteenth century

Siena is often associated with the local sculptor Antonio Federighi.80 His precise rendering of

ancient visual forms have fooled viewers over the centuries. This is perhaps most obvious in his

holy water stoups in the Cathedral, two elaborately carved marble works that were believed in the

seventeenth century to incorporate actual fragments of Roman candelabra.81

Furthermore, there were extant examples, particularly in Rome, of ancient arches

composed of actual spolia. The Arch of Constantine is a case in point since much of its sculptural

decoration (including the relief panels in the central passageway, and sculpted barbarians and

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rectangular relief panels in the attic) was appropriated from earlier Imperial sources.82 We can also be certain that the significance of the insertion of anomalous elements into this ancient arch would have been recognized in the Renaissance as the use of spolia. One need only recall

Raphael’s famous letter of around 1519 to Pope Leo X (1513-1521) in which he praises the early

Imperial sculptures on the Arch of Constantine while denigrating the reliefs newly created for the monument.83 There were other arches in Rome sometimes identified (albeit erroneously) as triple aches that were composed of more incongruent and thus more obvious assemblages of spolia.

Sixteenth-century sources cite among others, the Arco Nuovo on the via Lata, and the Arco di

Portogallo, which once spanned the via del Corso but was demolished by Pope Alexander VII in

1662.84

One should not forget, however, that there was also a tradition of utilizing ancient remains in Christian chapels, especially those dedicated to saints and martyrs.85 The doorway of the chapel Saint John the Baptist at the Lateran Baptistery in Rome is flanked by two ancient porphyry columns supporting a fragment of an ancient Roman architrave. Similarly, the ninth-century chapel of Saint Zeno at Santa Prassede in Rome makes use of a fragmentary, first century architrave in the façade, and a late antique socle and reversed capital in the interior.86 In fact, the form of three other ninth-century socles in the chapel imitate the one authentic ancient socle.87 Thus, the idea of fabricating architectural elements that strongly resemble antique remains for a Christian setting has a long preceding tradition, especially in Rome.

The reading of certain aspects of the chapel’s facade as evoking symbolic spolia can be applied as well to the two marble columns supported by the pedestals. As we have seen, ancient marble columns were imported from the Sienese contado in the early fifteenth century and placed around the city with sculptures of the she-wolf atop in reference to the traditional foundation myth of Siena. Any consideration of the façade of the chapel must consider what would have been an

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obvious association with those elements brought into Siena as part of the reaffirmation of the city’s

ancient past. In particular, two columns still standing at the outer edges of the stairs leading to the

façade of the Cathedral were thought to be of Roman origin, and one eighteenth-century observer

claimed that some of these had come from the Porta Aurea.88 Given the arched form of the facade,

it may have been assumed that the columns on the chapel also once adorned that gateway.

The most remarkable aspect of the chapel’s columns, however, is their striking yellow

color. The monumental use of such colored marble in the Cathedral was still relatively rare at the

end of the fifteenth century, and the strong contrast of the dark yellow members against the white

marble of the sculpted arch behind serves to underscore the uniqueness of the material.

Benvoglienti asserted that the columns that stood outside the Cathedral were of marmo giallo, a

type of marble with yellow coloring that was quarried by the Romans. He identified the columns

as remains of the Roman temple of Minerva.89 It seems logical to assume then that the coloration of the chapel columns may have made reference to yet another tradition from Siena’s Roman history, one related to the site of the Cathedral itself.

The stone utilized for the columns of the chapel facade, known locally as giallo senese,

was routinely excavated in the district of the Montagnola Senese. According to documents

discovered by Aronow, the Opera had purchased a quarry in that area at Gallena by at least 1402

as a source for white marble. Giallo senese was apparently quarried near the communities of

Casole d’Elsa, Chiusdino, and Sovicille with actual quarries located at Montearrenti, Gallena, and

Sovicille. 90 In his late sixteenth-century treatise Istoria delle pietre, Agostino del Riccio

describes a yellow marble among the “marmi misti” quarried in the area around Siena.91

Interestingly, he notes that at least one of these sites had been mined in Roman times, and if the

chapel’s columns were known to be the result of contemporary quarrying, the ancient connection

may have been carried nonetheless due to the antiquity of the quarry.92

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The yellow coloration of the chapel’s columns also associates them with the grandeur of

ancient Imperial architecture both in Rome and Siena. The color strongly resembles that of giallo

antico, a yellow marble also known in antiquity as marmor Numidicum after the location of

quarries in Africa. 93 Numidian marble came to be used in the decoration of the most significant

monuments in Rome, including the Pantheon where giallo antico columns are prominently employed in the interior.94 The Roman utilization of colored marbles such as marmor Numidicum has been read ideologically as a sign of Imperial power and cultural supremacy due to the expense and remote origin of the stone.95 The giallo senese columns of the chapel’s facade, due to their

particular color, would have evoked a similar reading. In the seventeenth century, Giulio

Piccolomini thought that the columns on the Porta Aurea were of Numidian marble, again making possible a link between spoils of that monument and the columns used in the chapel’s facade in the

Cathedral.96 Indeed, the very name of this gateway, the Golden Portal, must refer to the colored marbles though to have adorned it. The yellow columns of the chapel’s facade, read symbolically as spolia from the Porta Aurea, thus would have evoked the Imperial splendor of ancient Roman

Siena.

In ecclesiastical contexts, the reuse of ancient marbles was common in early Christian structures, proclaiming the victory of Christianity over paganism by visibly integrating remains of that former culture into its structures.97 Constantine set the precedent for this by employing spolia, especially columns, in his basilican churches. As we have seen, the façades of the chapels of John the Baptist and John the Evangelist at the Lateran baptistery in Rome incorporate Roman porphyry columns which can be compared in terms of function to the giallo senese columns that serve a similar purpose in demarcating the entrance to the chapel in Siena. Clearly, the use of colored marble elements in the elevation of the Baptist’s chapel in Siena Cathedral would have made reference not only to the city’s ancient Roman past, but also the early Christian tradition of

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incorporating architectural spolia. 98

The richly-carved pedestals and colored columns of the chapel’s facade then can be related both to aspects of the city’s Roman ancestry and the extensive tradition of spolia used in

Christian structures. That these concepts were widely understood and purposefully advanced in

other venues is confirmed in part by Neroccio di Bartolomeo’s painted Biccherna cover of 1480,

which depicts the Virgin presenting the city of Siena in the form of model to Christ who hovers in

the sky above (Figure 123). Significantly, Siena is supported on three classical columns of

different colored marbles, indicating literally the foundation of the Christian city upon the physical

remains of the pagan past.99

In the end, the meaning of the facade of the Baptist’s chapel should be seen as multivalent.

Although functioning in the tradition of arched monuments in ecclesiastical settings, it also referenced the city’s Roman past. With the incorporation of elements that appear to be symbolic of

spolia, the facade recreates the main gateway of ancient Roman Siena, the Porta Aurea. Indeed, if

we recall the Biccherna entry concerning the dismantling of the Porta Aurea and the fragmentary

inscriptions from the Arco dell’ Imperatore, it seems that a viable piece of Sienese heritage was

reassembled in the Cathedral, thus paralleling the histories of local humanists, providing evidence

to support their assertions, and reaffirming the antiquity of the Sienese state. Another architectural

ensemble with comparable goals was the Arsenale Gate in Venice, mentioned above, which

incorporated imported columns and Byzantine capitals in an attempt to fabricate an ancient

heritage for the city.100 The assembling of antique parts in that monument in order to make a

historical statement is mirrored in the facade of the Sienese chapel of the Baptist. Through a

similar use of symbolic spolia, the chapel’s façade provides physical evidence of Siena’s

antiquity and thus refutes Florentine claims that the city lacked a venerable antique past.

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Civic Rivalry and the Chapel of the Baptist

Sienese possession of an important relic of John the Baptist and the erection of a

sumptuously decorated chapel featuring a bronze statue of the saint resonates with political

implications. The Baptist was a major patron of the Florentine state and the devotion of its

citizens to the Precursor was well known. 101 This fact would have immediately influenced the

reception of the chapel and its decoration, particularly in light of the turbulent history shared by the

two cities as outlined above. On one hand, for the minuto popolo, or citizens, of Siena, the arm

relic and its chapel represented a symbolic trophy that would have been coveted by their enemy,

an echo of the all-too-seldom supremacy of the Sienese over Florence on the battlefield, especially at Montaperti. For Alberto Aringhieri and the reggimento of Siena, on the other hand, the chapel may have carried a subtle message of support for the Florentines and particularly the ruling Medici family.

The civic identity of the Florentines was intimately tied to the Baptist, thus it was crucial for them to possess relics of the Precursor. However, although the Baptist was a patron saint of

Florence from the late Middle Ages, the Florentines only began collecting relics of John at the end of the fourteenth century. In 1393 the Calimala guild, which was in charge of maintaining and decorating the Baptistery acquired a finger of the Baptist. Another finger was willed to the city by anti- Pope John XXIII (1409-13) in 1421, apparently in response to Florentine support for his claim to the throne of Peter.102

These initial acquisitions led to what can be described as an aggressive policy on the part of the Florentines when it came to the acquisition of relics of the Baptist in the Quattrocento. A case in point concerns the head of the Baptist held in the church of San Silvestro in Capite in

Rome.103 On 25 April, 1411, according to several contemporary chronicles, a procession through

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the streets of Rome with the head was abruptly interrupted when it was learned that John XXIII was planning to hand over the relic to Florence for 50,000 florins.104 Not to be deterred, the

Florentines hatched a new plot in 1447 to steal the head; the attempted theft failed, however, and

Florence was forced to bail out their imprisoned operative in Rome, none other than the famous artist Filarete.105

There is also evidence for Florentine interest in the cult and relics of the Baptist as played out in other cities by Florentines living abroad. In June of 1518, Piero Soderini, the Florentine chancellor (1502 –12) who was exiled when the Medici returned to Florence after their exile, contacted Michelangelo regarding the head reliquary at San Silvestro in Rome, writing, “seeing how the head of glorious St. John the Baptist, protector and advocate of our Nation, is not kept in a manner appropriate to one so holy, it occurred to me to make for him an altar and ornament, spending for its five hundred ducats.”106 Wallace has pointed out that the project for a new relic tabernacle and altar was “Florentine” in essence, reflecting typical native devotion to the primary patron saint, and that Soderini, in invoking the Baptist as “protector and advocate” of Florence, appealed to Michelangelo’s patriotism as a son of that city and previous defender of the Republic to persuade him to take on the project.107 Michelangelo was the perfect choice of artist for

Soderini given the major civic projects that the two had collaborated on in Florence, and the patriotic, if primarily personal, motives for the commission in San Silvestro are clear.108 Soderini also requested plans from Michelangelo for two tombs, apparently for himself and his wife, indicating his wish to be interred near the remains of the Baptist in San Silvestro. Thus, the ex- chancellor’s eternal devotion to Florence and its holy protector, still strong despite his exile, was to be reflected in the new reliquary tabernacle and altar just meters away from his final resting place.109

The combination of this intense Florentine interest in the cult of the Baptist, both at home

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and abroad, and the historic rivalry that existed between Florence and Siena, provides the background for one reading of the chapel’s meaning. The fact that the prominent arm relic was in

Siena and not in Florence would have been a point of pride for the Sienese and would have evoked jealousy on the part of the Florentines. In Siena, possession of a relic coveted by their enemies would have been viewed as a type of spiritual victory, allied symbolically with Sienese military triumphs over Florence in the Battle of Montaperti and, more recently, the Battle of

Poggio Imperiale in 1479.

The perceived Florentine “loss” of the Baptist relic to Siena also could have been equated with another type of lost object with significant political overtones, namely the civic trophies confiscated during warfare, such as the Florentine carroccio seized by the Sienese at

Montaperti.110 This cart accompanied troops into battle and carried the city’s banner; its capture was tantamount to defeat. The bell from the Florentine cart was one of the combat relics still extant in the fifteenth century, visible in the bell tower of the Sienese church of San Giorgio that had been built to commemorate the victory.111 The Florentines also returned from battle with objects symbolic of the victory and subjugation of the enemy, such as the large chains removed from Pisa’s port in 1362 and Siena’s own carroccio in 1269; in both cases these trophies were displayed inside or in front of the civic center of Florence, the Baptistery.112

Relics and even patron saints often were appropriated or carried off as civic trophies as well, robbing the defeated of both property and sacredness. Trexler has described how the ancient rite of evocatio, in which the native gods (or patron saints in the present context) of an enemy were implored to withdraw and abandon their support for the besieged city, was still utilized in the

Middle Ages and the Renaissance.113 The theft of images and relics of saints after a victory was also common, perhaps the most famous example being the transfer of the head of San Rossore from

Pisa to Florence in 1422 after the Florentine victory over that city in 1406.114 Ensconced in a

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reliquary created by Donatello and placed in new chapel in the church of the Ognissanti, the saint

and his cult were effectively displaced and adopted by the victors, diminishing to a certain degree

the power of the defeated Pisans.115

Although the Baptist’s arm in Siena had not been taken forcibly from the Florentines,

possession of this most holy relic by the Sienese was equal to such a loss and can be compared to

civic trophies as described above, particularly considering the acrid history shared by these two

communes. All the spiritual power inherent in the arm relic, charged by its contact with Christ that

occurred at his baptism, was at the disposal of the Sienese and notably absent from Florence,

where its presence alongside other Baptist relics would have contributed to the reconstitution of

the patron saint’s body and thus added to the impregnability of the Florentine state.116 Official

recognition of the importance of the Siena relic by the Florentines came sometime after 1464

when, according to Buoninsegni, the Florentines, fearful that one of their Baptist fingers was a

fake, had their relic joined to the appropriate finger socket on the hand in Siena.117 A perfect

match authenticated the Florentine finger, but legitimization of their Baptist relic had come by means of the sacred property of Siena, and this would have been an embarrassment to many in

Florence. It also should be noted that the arm and hand, unlike some other dissatisfied relics, never showed signs of displeasure in residing in Siena, rather than in Florence, and in one sense, the Baptist’s acceptance of a home in Siena implied tacit approval of that city on the part of the saint.118

The creation of a splendid shrine for the Baptist’s arm in Siena’s Cathedral, the civic and

religious heart of the city, further served to reemphasize the relic nearly twenty years after its

donation. While it seems that the active pursuit of Baptist relics by the Florentine commune

ceased after 1451, new attention to Siena’s right arm of the Baptist may have renewed Florentine efforts to secure a comparable relic of the Precursor.119 Recent archival research by Cornelison

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has revealed the lengths to which the Florentines went in an attempt to acquire the left hand of the

Baptist in 1489.120 In that year, a Hungarian monk, Giorgio Draghisis, was employed to purchase

the relic in Jerusalem and to convey it back to Florence. When the friar fell ill at Ragusa, he

entrusted the left arm to two locals, who refused to return it once Draghisis recovered. A special

envoy, Piero Talanti, was sent to Ragusa to claim the relic for Florence, but he was unsuccessful.

The Florentine ambassador in Rome then appealed to the Pope, who issued a decree demanding

that the relic be sent immediately to Rome for transfer to its rightful owners. This effort too was

unsuccessful, and Florence never received the left arm of the Baptist.

Regardless of the outcome, it may well be that the rising specter of the Baptist’s chapel in

Siena in part prompted the Florentines in their competitive quest for the left arm at a time when the

Sienese monument was architecturally complete and its decorative program underway.121 This

type of politicization of relics and their use in city-state rivalry has a long history in the Middle

Ages, and a comparable civic competition over the power conferred by Baptist relics occurred

between Venice and Genoa in the thirteenth century. Pincus has pointed to the inclusion of part of

the Baptist’s head on a thirteenth-century sculpted plaque in Venice as means of publicizing

Venetian possession of a relic more powerful than the ashes of the Baptist held by their traditional enemies, the Genoese, who, like the Florentines, had chosen the Baptist as a patron saint.122

If the custody of the Baptist relic in Siena was viewed as a type of spiritual victory over

Florence, based upon the long tradition of antagonistic relations between the two cities, it is also possible that specific political developments in those relations during the extended period of the chapel’s erection may have sharpened such feelings. Despite the peace treaty signed in 1483, the

Sienese minuto popolo retained ill feelings towards the Florentines, mainly due to the conflict over territory captured during the Pazzi War, which had been at the heart of the negotiations. The fact that several captured towns, including Castellina, Monte Dominici, and San Polo, were

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returned to Florentine control was humiliating and irritating, further fueling an ever-present undercurrent of anti-Florentine sentiment among the populace that may have prompted a particularly patriotic interpretation of the chapel of the Baptist.123

The very placement of the chapel within the physical organization of the Cathedral could have aided the viewer in making a connection between Siena’s glorious past, as evidenced by the

Sienese victory over Florence at the Battle of Montaperti, and its continued superiority in the present, represented by the arm relic and the splendid shrine constructed for its display. The chapel was built to face across the transept directly opposite a major entryway into the Cathedral on the south side known as the Porta del Perdono. Although the principle liturgical axis ran from the entrance in the west to the high altar in the east, this lateral doorway was an important point of entry into the church, particularly for pilgrims and those coming from the Piazza del Campo, until the seventeenth century when it was replaced by the new Cappella del Voto.124 In the area of the

Porta del Perdono were two significant “relics” related to the victory at Montaperti.

Most important was the icon before which the Sienese had vowed the city to the Virgin on the eve of the battle. Although there has been much confusion concerning the identification of the image, most scholars today agree that this image is the one known as the Madonna degli occhi grossi presently in the Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo (Figure 124).125 This image, distinguishable from later icons in the Cathedral by its having been worked in mezzo rilievo, was originally on the high altar, but was subsequently replaced after the battle by an altarpiece more befitting Sienese gratitude to the Virgin, namely Duccio’s grand Maestà.126 According to Venturi’s fifteenth-century history of the Battle of Montaperti, the Madonna degli occhi grossi was then attached to the tower inside the Cathedral next to the Porta del Perdono without an accompanying altar, meaning that anyone entering through the portal would have encountered the icon immediately to the left.127 A

Cathedral inventory of 1435 indicates that an altar dedicated to the Madonna delle Grazie had

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been installed in this same position, complete with Sassetta’s altarpiece of the same name, with the

ancient and revered Madonna degli occhi grossi hanging nearby.128 By 1439 the older image had

been transferred to the new oratory of San Ansano in Castelvecchio, built to the south of Cathedral

in the oldest part of the city.129 Despite its removal from the Cathedral before the Baptist’s chapel

was built, the icon and its prominent placement was never forgotten. The association of this

particular spot with the oldest cult object relative to the Virgin’s intercession at Montaperti was

recalled subsequently by the altar dedicated to the Virgin and was fully revived in the seventeenth-

century when the new Cappella del Voto was erected on that very site.

The other object near the Porta del Perdono with specific ties to the Montaperti episode

was a wooden crucifix thought to have been carried in processions before and after the battle. The

exact location of the crucifix is more problematic than the icon however. Kempers maintains,

based on chronicle accounts, that the crucifix in question was positioned above the altar of Saint

Jacomo Interciso, thus placing it in the south aisle just west of the entry to the stairwell of the

campanile.130 Aronow argues for the idea, accepted by Norman, that the sculpture was installed

above the altar of the Crucifix, plausibly located in the far south transept opposite the chapel of

Saint Sebastian.131 If the latter hypothesis is correct, the presence of the historic crucifix, albeit not

as directly tied to the Porta del Perdono as the Madonna degli occhi grossi, would have nevertheless augmented the association of this part of the Cathedral with the Battle of Montaperti and the ultimate triumph over Florence.

Such associations, provoked by actual or recalled imagery with strong political and historical resonance, would have influenced any Sienese entering the Cathedral through the portal. As part of the story of Montaperti, both the icon and the Crucifix were capable of stirring anti-Florentine sentiments, as evidenced by the display in 1454 in the Campo of the white

Camollia banner and the victorious Sienese carroccio that had been used in that ancient battle to

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encourage support for a new war with Florence.132 Looking across the transept from the portal, the

Baptist chapel would have been directly visible beyond the monumental pulpit by Nicola Pisano,

which in it original position extended slightly beyond the choir beneath the dome.133 In traversing

the length of the transept along an axis that connected the portal and the chapel, the visitor would

have also passed other Montaperti relics, namely two tall wooden poles stationed against the

western piers supporting the dome that were thought to be remnants of the victorious Sienese

carroccio from 1260.134 Arriving at the chapel’s entrance, perhaps already prejudiced by the anti-

Florentine feelings generated by the objects and associations confronted upon entry, the Sienese

citizen would have encountered Donatello’s monumental bronze statue of John the Baptist framed,

appropriately enough, by a Roman triumphal arch, a literal visualization of Siena’s assumed

preeminence over Florence.

The Politics of Devotion and Donatello’s Bronze Saint John the Baptist

It is this element, a statue of John the Baptist produced in 1457 by the illustrious Florentine

sculptor, which more than any other assures the chapel at least a cursory visit

from the throngs of tourists that stream through Siena Cathedral each day (Figure 26). Standing

barefoot on a rocky outcrop, the haloed saint is dressed in his traditional camel-haired tunic and

holds a parchment and a reed cross in his left hand, symbolic of his function as the last great

prophet of the Old Testament and intimate of Christ. He looks to the right, his mouth open, and he

gestures with this right hand, either bestowing a blessing or referring to the one to follow, namely

Christ. The gaunt, sunken face implies a frail and weak figure, but this impression is negated by his smooth and robust arms and legs and the vigorous turning and twisting of the hair on his garment, which visually activates the surface of the statute and infuses the saint with a certain

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internal energy.

While far from unknown, this bronze statue has received relatively little attention in the vast literature on Donatello. Nearly all of the scholarship on the Baptist focuses either on stylistic

affinities with other sculpture from the same period or, more often, on problematic issues related

to its original commission, some twenty years before the construction of the Baptist’s chapel, and

the fact that the statue was left incomplete, missing the right arm until at least 1474. 135 Its

unfinished state in part explains why it was not placed on public display until reutilized by

Aringhieri in his new chapel. Indeed, the Operaio’s decision to make use of the sculpture initiates

a new and much neglected chapter in the statue’s history, namely, its afterlife.

Archival sources indicate that the Baptist was shipped in three separate pieces from

Florence to Siena between September and October of 1457.136 The exact nature of the commission

is unknown, however, and the work’s intended destination within the city remains a mystery. Once

assembled, it became clear the statue was incomplete, missing those body parts, the baptizing right

arm and hand, which were perhaps the most important symbolically. Donatello himself had

arrived in Siena just ahead of the Baptist, declaring his wishes to work in the city and die there a

Sienese citizen. By summer of 1459, though, he was back in his native Florence, persuaded,

according to Vasari, to abandon his work in Siena on the patriotic urgings of a Florentine

goldsmith, Benedetto di Mona Papera, at that time working for the Medici.137 As late as 1461 the

sculptor still had not received full compensation for the bronze statue, owing to its incomplete

state. An inventory of the Cathedral dated 1467 indicates that the armless Baptist had been

relegated to the sculpture workshop beneath the Cathedral where it languished for many years.138

In discussing Donatello’s statue and the chapel of the Baptist, we are confronted

with a vexing problem, namely the uncertainly surrounding the date when it was placed in the

central niche. Current scholarship holds that as the statue was incomplete when Donatello

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returned to Florence, it remained in the workshop until the missing arm could be attached. Herzner

has published a document indicating receipt of a bronze arm by an unidentified artist for the statue

in 1474 and it is assumed that at that point the statue was finished and moved to the sacristy, where

a beautiful bronze Baptist is mentioned in Cathedral inventories of 1480, 1482, 1500, 1525, and

1536.139

One would think, however, that at the latest the Baptist would have been installed just

before the chapel’s consecration ceremony in 1504. If the statue was indeed complete by then, it

becomes difficult to understand why it would not have been moved to the chapel. How strange for

the central niche of a major shrine complete in nearly every other way to stand empty for more than

thirty years, or, equally strange if it was filled with another statue for which there is no evidence

whatsoever. Firm evidence of the placement of Donatello’s statue in the chapel comes only in

1610 when it appears in a Cathedral inventory.140

This brings into question the long held assumption that Aringhieri intended the bronze statue to go in the chapel from the start, although it should be noted that some have suggested that it was destined for a chapel of the Baptist, along with the relic arm, from as early as the 1460s, implying that the Operaio may have been following plans long in place.141 If Aringhieri did not

intend from the outset to employ Donatello’s work as the focal point of his monument, then where

is the physical or archival evidence for the commission of another statue of the Baptist to serve as

the main cult image of the chapel? Although construction and decoration of the chapel was

protracted over two decades, the two other statues in the chapel were commissioned no later than

1487.142 In that year, Neroccio’s contract for the marble Saint Catherine of Alexandria required

that the dimensions of the statue conform to those of the marble Saint Ansanus, already completed

by Giovanni di Stefano at an unspecified date. Thus, the marble statues of the chapel were

conceived of as a distinct pair. It seems logical to think that Aringhieri would have also

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commissioned a statue of the Baptist around this time, if not earlier, to complete the sculptural triad. The lack of any evidence for such a commission strongly supports the idea that Donatello’s bronze statue was always a significant part of the plans for the chapel, regardless of when it was finally transferred to the central niche.

In nearly every other religious setting, the display of such an image of the Baptist would warrant little comment, as the saint was universally venerated for his institution of Baptism. Given the particular historical contexts and the importance of the site with respect to other significant objects in the Cathedral as outlined above, however, the exhibition of the Baptist in the chapel might have been read by the Sienese popolo much like the arm relic, as symbolic of victory over

Florence, and visual confirmation of the successful evocation of their enemy’s patron saint.

The Baptist, in fact, had been connected to Florentine military success for quite a while.

This link may have originated with the traditional association between Mars and the Baptist, pagan and Christian counterparts in the city, for it was often claimed that the

Florentine Baptistery was built originally as a temple dedicated to the Roman war god after victory over Fiesole.143 The chronicler Sanzanome, writing in the thirteenth century, thought

Sienese prisoners who were captured in a skirmish with Florence in 1145 were “dedicated” to the

Baptist, an event that was recalled with a certain amount of civic pride over a hundred years later when the Florentines were about to engage Siena again.144 It also seems that military demonstrations on enemy territory was a common way in the late Middle Ages for the Florentines to mark the feast of the Baptist on 24 June.145 The most important visual evidence of this connection came in celebrating the defeat of the Pisans in 1406, when a gold votive statue of the

Baptist was produced in thanks for his continuing aide in military maters.146 The display of a similar statue, made of bronze instead of gold, in Siena Cathedral could have been viewed with knowledge of the specifically military relationship between the Baptist and Florence in mind.

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The fact that the statue was a masterpiece of a Florentine artist also would have been of

importance, but in this reading Donatello may have been remembered more as a Florentine

expatriate, and, at least temporarily, an adopted son of Siena. Donatello’s petition to the

government of Siena in 1457 stated his desire to work and live out his last days in the city as a cittadino senese, and, although Pope-Hennessy has dismissed these words as rhetorical, it seems he was fully accepted as such, for he was provided a pensione from the Balìa in return for a contract supervised by the Cathedral Opera.147

Furthermore, during his brief stay between 1457 and 1459, the Sienese intended for the

sculptor to be entrusted with several projects of immense civic importance, such as a unspecified

work on the Palazzo Pubblico, and a statue of San Bernardino for the Loggia di San Paolo, but

most notably on works for the Cathedral, including a new chapel dedicated to the Virgin, and a set

of bronze doors for the central portal, akin to those of the Baptistery in Florence.148 The most

famous work by Donatello in the city, the bronze relief of the Feast of Herod and other sculpture

for the Baptismal font, part of an earlier project undertaken in the 1430s, had established the

sculptor’s fame in Siena generations earlier, making it all the easier for the Sienese to welcome

this Florentine as one of their own.

The irony of showcasing a work that would have been very much at home in a Florentine

context, and one created by a Florentine artist, in a chapel in the Cathedral of Siena would not

have been lost on the viewer. It would have augmented the reading proposed here in terms of

Sienese supremacy over Florence. One could compare this political interpretation with that

offered for Coppo di Marcovaldo’s Madonna and Child painted for the Servite community in

Siena, and signed and dated 1261 (Figure 125).149 The artist’s name appears among those

Florentine soldiers conscripted to fight the Sienese in 1260, and it seems that Coppo was taken

prisoner in the battle. There has been speculation that the panel, the first major image of the Virgin

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to be produced after the Battle of Montaperti and thus in the city that had recently been placed under her protection, was created in returned for the artist’s freedom. 150 As Corrie has pointed out, the prestigious reputation of Coppo, who was credited with having worked on the mosaics of

Florence’s Baptistery, among other projects, may have been purposefully targeted in the commission as a form of humiliation, reflecting the defeated Florentines, who now, in the representative person of Coppo, are forced to create images of the saintly patron of their archenemies.151 Setting aside for the moment the question of Donatello’s reputation in Siena in the

1480s, strictly from the viewpoint of a Sienese citizen, the display of the bronze Baptist in the chapel could have elicited a similar interpretation: the statue as the product of a Florentine artist working for Siena, but in this case, ironically, producing an image of a Florentine saint that is then pressed into service as the central cult image of a major shrine in the heart of the city.

The reading of the political content of the chapel as outlined above is presented from the standpoint of the average Sienese citizen. This interpretation, however, may not be the only valid one, for the politics of Alberto Aringhieri and the governing body of Siena did not always conform to public sentiment. Aringhieri’s motivation for reusing the Baptist may, on the surface, appear simple enough. The fact that the Opera had in its possession a striking monumental image of the saint made of a precious material would have easily filled the need for a cult image in the chapel, and provided an economical solution in the process. It seems, however, that Aringhieri spared little expense on the rest of the chapel’s decoration, implying that the recycling of the bronze statue was not a necessity, and therefore not inevitable based on financial convenience. This leads me to question other possible motivations for his interest in the Baptist, and to the hypothesis that his political views, and those of his family, may have influenced his decision in this matter.

As we have seen, the Aringhieri family was well known in the fifteenth century for its diplomatic service to the Sienese state. The active participation of the family in formulating and

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carrying out official foreign policy appears to have helped shape the political positions of the

Aringhieri. This seems to be the case when it came to the Florentines, traditional archenemies of the Sienese, but friends of the Aringhieri. The family’s pro-Florentine sympathies may have developed with Alberto’s uncle, Aringhiero Aringhieri, who served as Sienese ambassador to

Florence in 1412 when he helped to negotiate a pact against Naples, and again in 1414.152 Alberto

Aringhieri continued this tradition in a significant way during his own term of service as ambassador to Florence in 1483. On May 30 of that year, he was sent to Florence to help stalled peace talks led by another Sienese, Bartolomeo Sozzini. After offering complete restitution of

Florentine lands lost during the Pazzi War in return for armed protection against angry Sienese exiles, a new peace with the Florentines meant to last 25 years was signed on 14 June.153 As a major player in these events, Aringhieri became familiar with the Medici court and particularly

Lorenzo de’ Medici, with whom he corresponded. It also should be recalled here that it was to

Florence that the Operaio fled temporarily in April of 1483 to escape retribution for his role in inciting a factional uprising in the Piazza del Campo.154

The most overt evidence for the pro-Florentine politics espoused by Aringhieri came in

1472 in response to the brutal sack of Volterra, which was then under Florentine control.155

Medici troops, led by Federigo da Montefeltro, laid siege to the walls to quell an uprising over the mining of alum. Entering the gates with aid from traitorous Volterrans, they brutally slaughtered the populace and decimated the city. The citizens of other Tuscan communities, including Siena, protested the cruel handling of the situation, no doubt fearful that similar acts might be carried out against them. 156 In Siena, there was debate over the need to send assistance to Volterra in response to a call for help from its citizens, but nothing came of this. A small group of Sienese, however, reacted to this event in unexpected ways. Under the cover of darkness, on the night of 16 June, these citizens painted Florentine symbols, including the lily and marzocco, or lion, on the facades

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of their palaces as a show of support for the Florentines.157 According to Allegretti, Alberto

Aringhieri was among this group and was fined for painting a lion on the exterior of the Palazzo

Aringhieri.158 The appearance of the marzocco outside of Florence proper has been linked to the subordinate status of territories under Florentine jurisdiction, constituting a symbolic expression of

Medician rule.159 By displaying this politically potent symbol, Alberto blatantly expressed both his feelings regarding the sack of Volterra, and his allegiance to the Medici, thus risking public censure.

There are at least two instances when Aringhieri may have expressed his Florentine bias in the decoration of Siena Cathedral that he sponsored. In his discussion of the pavements in the

Cathedral, Cust read the image of a lion and wolf shaking hands in the panel representing the

Hellespontian Sibyl as a reference to the new peace forged between Florence and Siena in 1483

(Figure 126). 160 This pavement, which is located in the left aisle, was completed under

Aringhieri’s tenure as Operaio and has been dated to the very year of the peace treaty, 1483.

Confirmation of a political reading of this image is to be found in another pavement in the

Cathedral where both animals are identified with these cities. A circular, fourteenth-century roundel prominently located in the nave depicts a she-wolf nursing two infants with the label

“SENA,” referring to Siena’s legendary founding by the sons of Remus, surrounded by eight smaller circles, each containing an animal and name of a city, including a lion identified by inscription as “FLORENTIA” (Figure 127).161

In considering the possible political meaning of Donatello’s Baptist, it is significant that, although other Florentine artists were known to have worked in Siena in the 1470s, no Florentine was employed in a major way in the decoration of the Cathedral after Donatello’s brief stay in the late 1450s, that is until Aringhieri became Operaio. In 1493, Aringhieri hired Davide

Ghirlandaio, brother of the more famous Florentine painter Domenico, to work on the mosaics on

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the façade of the Cathedral, no longer extant.162

If Alberto Aringhieri was bold enough to proclaim his unorthodox politics in such a highly visible and prestigious place as the Cathedral, and in such a public way as painting a Florentine emblem on his palace façade, then his choice to reutilize Donatello’s bronze statue for his chapel might be read as a similar, if more subtle, statement of support for Florence and especially Medici rule. This choice would have echoed the long-standing affiliation with Florence on the part of the

Aringhieri family, as well as that of the leading figures of the Sienese reggimento, who, as Shaw has pointed out, were on excellent terms with Lorenzo de’ Medici in the 1480s and early 1490s, turning to him for advice regarding the defense of the city against rebellious exiles and in some cases even receiving from him an annual pensione.163

The validity of this reading, however, rests on the proof of a symbolic association of the statue specifically with Florence and the Medici. The fact that John the Baptist was a major patron saint of Florence would surely have been appreciated by those pro-Florentine Sienese. Indeed, images of the Baptist were omnipresent in Florence, from depictions of the saint on coins of the

Florentine Republic handled daily in the streets and traded abroad, to Benedetto da Maiano’s statue (1476-1481) in the Sala dei Gigli of the Palazzo della Signoria, the city’s governmental center.164 Furthermore, Paoletti has suggested that beginning in the 1430s the Medici began to personalize Florentine emblems, like the lily, and saintly figures, including the Baptist (in

Donatello’s bronze doors for the Old Sacristy of San Lorenzo and in Fra Angelico’s chapter room

Crucifixion at San Marco).165 Thus Donatello’s bronze statue in Siena may have communicated

Medicean overtones as well based simply on the prominent use of Baptist imagery by the de facto rulers of Florence.

Despite the fact that images of the Baptist were not unusual in religious contexts, the prominent display of the Baptist in Siena Cathedral may have seemed exceptional since the church

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was so pervasively connected to the Virgin through its dedication and decoration. The very nature of the statue’s material, bronze, was unusual and cause for notice in Siena, for as Paoletti has pointed out, monumental metal sculpture was relatively foreign to the city, where polychrome wood or marble had been the traditionally-favored media for freestanding works.166 Indeed, it was

Florence that had a much more developed tradition of bronze statuary, appropriately illustrated by the first monumental bronze statue of the Italian Renaissance, Lorenzo Ghiberti’s John the Baptist

(1413-1416), commissioned by the Calimala Guild for Orsanmichele (Figure 128).167 The presence of the remarkable bronze statue in Siena Cathedral chapel surely evoked comparison with other, well-known images of the Baptist in Florence.

Although Donatello did not sign the statue, his authorship of the bronze Baptist would have continued to be recognized long after his departure and death. The few other notable bronze works in Siena would have reinforced this connection through the artist’s direct participation or artistic inspiration. Donatello had participated with Ghiberti, Jacopo delle Quercia, and Giovanni di

Turino in producing in the 1420s and 1430s eight gilded bronze reliefs for the Sienese baptistery font, one of the most prestigious commissions in the city. Vecchietta’s bronze sacrament tabernacle (1467-1472) and statue of the risen Christ (1476), produced originally for the church of the Ospedale di Santa Maria della Scala, also points to the artistic impact of Donatello on Sienese sculpture.168 This is particularly true in regards to the Risen Christ which emulates the bronze

Baptist in its sinewy body and turned head (Figure 129).

The status of Donatello in Siena in the late fifteenth-century is also of importance to this

169 discussion as he may have been remembered favorably by Aringhieri others of the ruling elite.

As we have seen, the sculptor was originally well received in Siena, and his participation in the baptismal font project, although recently discussed as part of a type of friendly civic competition between the Florentines and Sienese, perhaps provided an example of successful civic

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collaboration to those living much later in the fifteenth century.170 Parronchi’s theory that the sojourn of Donatello to Siena in the late 1450s was orchestrated as a type of artistic ambassadorship by Cosimo de’ Medici to better relations between the two cities is provocative in this context, and while difficult to prove, it may have a basis in truth if some Sienese indeed considered the Florentine sculptor a friend rather than foe, and his artistic legacy a reminder of peaceful ties with their adversaries.171

Some might argue, though, that given Donatello’s fame and success before coming to Siena, particularly in terms of his work in Padua, he might have been viewed as a more universal talent and thus not necessarily a strictly Florentine or Medicean artist. Considering the often-bitter rivalry between the two communes, however, it is hard to believe that his patrimony would be easily forgotten, even as he was welcomed to live out his final days in Siena. In the city of

Florence, two sculptures in particular by Donatello can be linked to the very identity of that city: namely the now-lost Dovizia, set atop a column in the Mercato Vecchio and viewed as symbolic of

Florence’s prosperity, and a stone Marzocco, as mentioned above, emblematic of the city and of

Florentine rule when it appeared in contexts outside the city walls (Figure 130).172 These works alone would have positioned Donatello as a truly Florentine artist, not only by virtue of his

Florentine birth, but as someone involved in creating those civic images that came to define

Florence in the eyes of its people and those visiting the city.

It is also obvious that Donatello and his sculpture were strongly associated with the

Medici, not unlike the parallel instance of Verrocchio, who later took up the unofficial mantle of

Medici court sculptor in the later fifteenth century.173 Donatello seems to have been linked to the

Medici in the early 1460s, when he may have been enticed to return to Florence by their commissions, such as the bronze pulpits (1461-1466) for the family’s church of San Lorenzo, and a handsome salary from Cosimo himself.174 Alberto Aringhieri also would have had first hand

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knowledge of the two bronze statues by the sculptor set up in the Medici palace, the David and the

Judith and Holofernes, which served to link intimately Florence’s ruling family with the sculptor

(Figures 131-132).175

The bronze statue of the Baptist, furthermore, may have drawn parallels with other works by Donatello in Florentine settings or contexts. Scholars have often noted the stylistic similarities between the Baptist in Siena and Donatello’s wooden Saint Mary Magdalene (1453-1455), particularly in the treatment of the hair and the sunken, wizened face (Figure 133).176 This sculpture may have been displayed in the Florentine Baptistery and, if so, would have made an apt comparison with the bronze Baptist in Siena, since that statue was displayed in a chapel with, as we have seen, strong baptismal associations.177

More pertinent, however, is the Frari chapel of the Baptist in Venice, where Donatello’s wooden statue of the saint, produced in the late 1430s, was employed as the cult image of a

Florentine national shrine that was funded by Florentines living in that city (Figure 134).178

Although it is unclear if this work was specifically commissioned for that project, it eventually found its way into the decorative scheme of the chapel, like the bronze in Siena.179 The original means of display of the statue in Venice is unknown, but it is possible that it resembled its current format that is known to date to the late-fifteenth century.180 The statue is currently positioned in the central niche of a large altarpiece, surrounded by paintings (and possibly other sculpture in its original form), all united in a carved architectural framework.

This type of assemblage in which sculptural and painted elements are structurally integrated strongly recalls the decorative scheme of the Baptist’s chapel in Siena. Aringhieri was likely familiar with the Venetian sculpture from an early age as his father Francesco was Sienese ambassador to Venice in 1449. Donatello’s signature on the base, moreover, offers not only his name, but an indication of his Florentine nationality as well.181 Finally, there appears to be some

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evidence that Cosimo de’ Medici himself was involved in funding the chapel in Venice although the precise terms are unknown.182 Obviously, then, the Frari chapel had overt Florentine and possibly Medicean overtones. If that shrine in any way provided an inspiration for Aringhieri in planning his own Baptist chapel, then perhaps the political associations of the model were purposefully carried in the Sienese chapel by means of Donatello’s statue.

Thus the bronze Baptist obviously had a certain political, specifically Florentine and

Medicean, resonance. This may help to explain why it was not moved into the chapel during

Aringhieri’s long tenure as Operaio from 1480 to 1506. The sensitive and volatile nature of

Sienese-Florentine relations took a new turn after the death of Lorenzo de’ Medici in 1492 and the expulsion of the Medici family in 1494. Lorenzo’s son and heir Piero de’ Medici had maintained a good rapport with the Sienese government, going as far as to provide loans to the city to hire troops to protect its gates from troublesome exiles.183 After his flight from Florence, Piero continued to receive assistance from the Sienese, who had vested interests in seeing his return to power.184 Indeed, Siena undertook negotiations in 1495 with Milan in part in hopes that that city would come to its aid if attacked by Florence for supporting Piero’s reinstatement.185 Siena and

Florence in fact were on the brink of war at that moment, as Montepulciano had declared itself independent from Florentine control and was receiving aide from the Sienese.186

It is important to recall at this point the well-known fate of two of Donatello’s bronze statues in Florence in that same year, 1495, just after the Medici expulsion. In the wake of the sack of the Medici palace, the David and Judith were removed and repositioned in public spaces, in the courtyard of the Palazzo della Signoria and the ringhiera just outside respectively.187 As has been much discussed, in their new positions both works became visual propaganda for the

Republic, proclaiming the parallel between the victory of David over Goliath and Judith over

Holofernes and the victory of the just, meaning the Florentine popolo, over the wicked, namely the

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Medici.188

There has been no consideration, however, of the implications of the public reuse, or plans for reuse, of Donatello’s bronze statue of the Baptist in Siena at the very moment when similar works were being relocated to more public spaces and appropriated for political symbolism in

Florence. In this specific context, perhaps long after Aringhieri’s original decision to include the statue in his chapel, the exhibition of the Baptist could have broadcast a new message, one not supportive of the new Florentine government created in 1494, but rather of the return of the Medici to power. Obviously, the constantly shifting nature of Sienese-Florentine relations may have determined the reception of the statue at any given moment, depending on the political climate and the audience involved.

One such shift occurred in the fall of 1498 when Pandolfo Petrucci, who had effectively ruled Siena as despot since 1487, reversed Sienese policy with regards to the Republic of

Florence. Petrucci abandoned Piero de’ Medici in his quest to return to power, and made peace with the Florentines.189 At this point, the display of the Baptist by Aringhieri might have been as bold an act as painting the marzocco on his palace façade, symbolically defying official policy to make a personal political statement.

Politics may have prevented Aringhieri from exhibiting the bronze statue in the chapel for by 1503 Petrucci had virtually taken control of Cathedral affairs.190 This may be one example where evidence for Aringhieri’s supposed “pro-Petruccian” politics is lacking, and indeed, given his history of political activism, Aringhieri may have worked against Petrucci to some degree, at least when it came to the Cathedral and the Medici.191 There must have been some friction between these two men over major decisions that affected or altered the church, and the plans of

Aringhieri to utilize the Baptist in his chapel could have contributed to this. When Aringhieri fled

Siena in 1506, fearful of the murderous tactics of Pandolfo, he left behind the bronze Baptist and

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an empty central niche in the chapel.

Saint Ansanus and Siena’s Early Christian Heritage

The meaning of the arched facade of the chapel may also lie in a topographical association

with particular significance for the local saint Ansanus, the baptizer of the Sienese, who was

depicted in the chapel in marble and intarsia. A few meters beyond the supposed spot of the Porta

Aurea, at the end of the present day via di San Quirico, stands the Oratory of Saint Ansanus,

dedicated to the city’s preeminent early Christian martyr and one of its four avvocati (Figure

135).192 This structure, consecrated in 1448, was erected alongside an important architectural relic, the tower known as the torre di San Ansano or della Rocchetta where the saint was thought to have been imprisoned by the Romans during the reign of Diocletian and from which he continued to baptize the Sienese during incarceration.193 As his martyrdom took place at Dofana, outside of Siena and in territory hotly contested by the Bishops of Siena and Arezzo, Ansanus’ tower and its adjacent oratory marked a significant religious and civic site of considerable antiquity inside the city walls.194 In fact, only one other locale, that along the present via del Fosso di S. Ansano, where the saint’s captors attempted unsuccessfully to boil him alive, could be specifically connected with his vita in Siena.195 Nevola has drawn particular attention to the classicizing window surrounds on both the tower and oratory, articulated with pilaster strips that were designed by Antonio Federighi. He views their insertion in the buildings as an attempt to underscore through the use of an all’antica style, the connection between the two structures and the antiquity of the site.196 A similar argument can be extended to the project as a whole, since the building of the Oratory next to the tower allowed the incorporation of the entire tower (a species of spolia) in a new construction on a site that possessed special ties to the ancient Christian

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heritage of the city.

Natives and visitors alike would have trod past Ansanus’ tower whenever entering or taking leave of the area through the Porta Aurea, and thus an association between the two would have been inevitable. Indeed, when describing the portals of the ancient city, Benvoglienti used the church of San Ansano along with its tower, a sacred feature known to all, as an aid in locating the central gateway for contemporary readers.197 Furthermore, part of the wall adjacent to the

Porta al Castello was incorporated in the construction of the walls of the Oratory itself, constituting a direct, physical link between gate and tower.198

With this in mind, it is important to recall that although the Baptist’s chapel was dedicated primarily to the Precursor, it also served as a locus for devotion to Saint Ansanus as well. Indeed, the Cathedral was the main devotional focus in the city for his cult due to the fact that the saint’s right, baptizing arm had been translated there in 1007.199 Despite the fact that the Trecento patronal altar of the saint seems to have remained intact, there is evidence to suggest unrealized or aborted efforts in the fifteenth century to erect a new altar and/or chapel dedicated to this saint in the Cathedral.200 The inclusion of Giovanni di Stefano’s marble statue of the saint in the Baptist’s chapel may reflect some remnant of Operaio Savino Savini’s intention to raise a shrine to Ansanus in the late 1460s on the very spot now occupied by the chapel.201

Considered together, the chapel’s arched façade and the honored presence of Saint

Ansanus in the interior can read as alluding to the topographical relationship that existed between the Porta Aurea, and the combined tower and oratory of the saint. Thus, the facade arch provides entry to a shrine of particular civic significance, as an environment for veneration of an avvocato, just as the Porta Aurea gave way to the only major site in Siena with a direct physical connection to the saint and the spot where that sacred body part, the hand, was involved in bringing

Christianity to the city. Such a reading would make reference to Siena’s pagan past in accessing

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the tradition of local triumphal arches and reconstructing its main Roman gateway, and its early

Christian heritage as evoked by the person of Ansanus.

Traditionally, Sienese images of Saint Ansanus most often depicted a young cavaliere,

holding a palm of martyrdom and/or a crusading banner bearing the balzana, the black and white

shield of the Sienese commune.202 This iconography was established relatively early in the

Cathedral as evidenced by Duccio’s Maestà altarpiece (1311) and one of the side panels from the

Annunciation (1333) by Simone Martini, also painted for the Cathedral (Figures 136-137).203

These representations were still the norm through much of the fifteenth century, as seen, for

example, in Antonio Federighi’s marble sculpture (1459) of Ansanus adorning the Loggia della

Mercanzia (Figures 138).204

The statue by Giovanni di Stefano in the Baptist’s chapel, however, represented a

significant departure from this iconographic tradition (Figure 28). This work depicts Ansanus as

young, curly-haired man dressed in a short Roman tunic tied with a belt and topped by a cape. His sandals tied at the ankle and are also antique in style. Ansanus turns slightly to the right and looks down at a young boy who kneels in prayer at his feet. The boy, whose genuflecting pose echoes that of the young Knight in the adjacent fresco by Pinturicchio, wears only a cloth around his waist; he has removed most of his clothing in preparation for the drenching waters of the baptismal rite.

Asanus’ right hand is positioned directly above the head of the young boy, and it can be assumed that a cup for the pouring of holy water was held in his hand. In this image, Ansanus is shown baptizing a youth and thus actively converting the local pagans to Christianity.

Although there is one prior Sienese example in which Ansanus was depicted as a baptizer rather than soldier, namely a mid-fifteenth century fresco in the Oratory of Saint Ansanus, the statue by Giovanni di Stefano was the first representation in the Cathedral to redefine the saint’s image from that of crusading cavaliere to founder of Christian communities.205 It was this new concept of

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Ansanus as baptizer, adumbrated in the Oratory and codified in the Cathedral statue, that subsequently became standard for depictions of the saint.206

By embracing and promoting this new iconographic model, the chapel statue clearly stressed the sacred parallels between the Baptist and Ansanus, and emphasized the role of the latter saint in establishing the Christian community in Siena by means of baptism before his martyrdom in A.D. 303. This confirmation of the early Christian history of the city was particularly relevant in the late fifteenth century when, as noted above, Sienese humanists were busy codifying long-established legends of Siena’s Roman heritage in the face of Florentine claims that the city possessed no venerable ancient past at all. The bold choice of a new iconographical presentation of Ansanus in the chapel and in the Cathedral offered further proof of an enviable early Christian as well as an ancient Roman heritage and may have been motivated in part by such derisive Florentine propaganda.

Additional physical confirmation of Siena’s antiquity and its connection to the larger history of Christianity was to be found in the specific relic of Ansanus and its purposeful comparison to the arm of the Baptist. The ritual of Ansanus’ relic display that developed in the

Cathedral followed one day after a similar ceremony for that of the relic of the Baptist.207 Thus, through the presence of statues of the Baptist and Ansanus in the chapel, and the holy sanction of the two baptizing arm relics held in the Cathedral, Florentine attempts to diminish the Sienese would have been affectively countered and neutralized. Ironically, it was a relic of the Baptist, the holy patron and civic protector of the Florentines, that provided the very means for Siena to defend its civic pride.

In a similar way, the inclusion of Saint Catherine of Alexandria in the decorative program of the chapel should be viewed as a means of relating Siena’s past and present to the broader history of Christianity. This saint, who was sometimes identified as the niece of Constantine,

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appears both in Neroccio’s marble statue and in an intarsia panel by Barili (Figures 29-30, 46).208

While the implications of both this statue and the intarsia panel for the Knights of Rhodes will be considered in the following chapter, a contemporary civic connection can be demonstrated by focusing on a relatively recent addition to Siena’s pantheon of saints, namely Catherine of Siena

(1347-1380). Canonized in 1461 by Pope Pius II, this Catherine was often linked to her early

Christian counterpart, not only by name but also through certain shared aspects of their lives,

especially the receipt of a ring from Christ as a symbol of their mystic marriage. This episode in

the life of Saint Catherine of Alexandria became popular in Tuscan art while the Sienese Catherine

was alive and is likely to have influenced a similar event in her life. 209

Thornton has questioned why Catherine of Alexandria rather than Catherine of Siena was

included in the chapel’s décor.210 While the answer may lie in Aringhieri’s affiliation with the

Order of John, as we shall discuss presently, a visitor to the chapel also may have read an implicit

visual reference to the latter saint in the statue of the former. The fundamental civic image of

Catherine of Alexandria was Vecchietta’s 1461 fresco in the seat of the city’s government, the Sala

del Mappamondo in the Palazzo Pubblico (Figure 139).211 Certain details of this well-known

depiction, particularly the placement of the right arm and hand and the inclusion of a book in the

left, appear again in the polychromed, wooden statue (1474) of Saint Catherine of Siena

commissioned from Neroccio for the Oratorio di Santa Caterina in Fontebranda, built on the site of

the saint’s home (Figure 140).212 Neroccio’s marble statue of Catherine of Siena in the chapel of

the Baptist absorbs these same details. The meaning of the references to either staute would have

been clear to any late Quattrocento Sienese viewer, reminding him that his own Catherine had

continued in the footsteps of this early sacred figure, and that the city’s long tradition of sacred

service could be linked to the earliest days of the Church.213

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In many aspects, then, the chapel of the Baptist serves a model of the visual mechanism by which local sacred history was promoted and integrated into the grand scheme of Christian time, particularly in terms of the role played by local patron saints.214 The city’s possession of major relics of the Baptist and Saint Ansanus, among others, provided the tangible support for these histories.

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1. G. B. Pecci, Raccolta universale di tutte l’inscrizioni, arme, e altri monumenti, si antichi...esistenti in diversi luoghi pubblici della citta di Siena, 2 vols., ASS D 5, 2: fol. 209v.; Ceasare Brandi, Palazzo Pubblico di Siena. Vicende construttive e decorazione (Milan: Silvana, 1983), 298-299, 306. Above the fresco is the following inscription: PIUS II PONT. MAX. EX GENTE PICCOLOMINEA PATRIAM/ BRACHIO D. IOANNES BAPTE. DECORAT A.D. 1464. 6 MAI. This scene was completed in 1592 by Bernardo van Rantwyck. The room is known today as the Sala del Consiglio.

2. Lusini, 2: 94, n. 3

3. Lusini, 2: 96, n. 3.

4. “Lodo pronunziata dell’Emnentiss. Flavio Card. Chigi electo a comparare la controversia in sorta fra il Capitolo della Metropolitana di Siena e il Collegio di Balia circa al dirette di ritenere una delle chiavi che servono a custodire la sacra Reliquia del braccio,” BCS C.X.24, 36r-39r. The lodo refers to the dispute between the two parties over keys to the Baptist relic as “l’ antico controversia.”

5. ASS Balìa 34, 51v.

6. For a more specific discussion of the authorship of various components of the façade, see the Catalogue below.

7. Settis and Toracca, 238.

8. For the impact of Pius II on the artistic culture of Siena, see R. Bartoloni, “Il tempo di Pio II,” in Bellosi , 92-105. For the deliberate perpetuation of Trecento models in Sienese art, see Kawsky.

9. Fusai, 75-105.

10. Diana Webb, Patrons and Defenders: The Saints in the Italian City States (New York: Taurus, 1996), 251-275; Diana Norman, Siena and the Virgin. Art and Politics in a Late Medieval City State (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1999), 3.

11. Ibid., 107-137

12. Norman, 6-12.

13. Fusai, 279-283; Kawsky, 39-44. Kawsky’s dissertation provides a brief but useful review in English of Sienese history for the first three quarters of the fifteenth century.

14. Kawsky, 46-48.

15. Fusai, 292-295.

16. Kawsky, 116-126.

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17. Fusai, 299.

18. Ibid., 300.

19. Ibid., 304.

20. Shaw, 1997, 28.

21. Ibid., 29-31.

22. Ibid., 93-95.

23. Donald Weinstein, “The Myth of Florence,” in Florentine Studies. Politics and Society in Renaissance Florence, ed. Nicolai Rubenstein (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1968), 21.

24. N. Rubinstein, “ Political Ideas in Sienese Art: The Frescoes By Ambrogio Lorenzetti and Taddeo di Bartolo in the Palazzo Pubblico,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 21 (1958): 201-202; Mauro Cristofani, ed., Siena: le origine. Testimonianze e miti archeologici (Florence: Olschki, 1979), 122-123; Strehlke, 38.

25. For a review of historical events in Siena at the beginning of the Quattrocento, see Fusai, 253- 259; and Kawsky, 39-52.

26. For a discussion of the legend, see L. Banchi, Le origini favolose di Siena secondo una presunta cronica romana (Siena: San Bernardino, 1888).

27.See Alessandro Angelini, “Giovanni di Stefano e le lupe marmoree di Porta Romana a Siena,” Prospettiva 65 (January 1992): 50

28. Aronow, 35-42; Gail Solberg, “Taddeo di Bartolo: His Life and Work,” Ph.D. diss., New York University, 1991, 909.

29. Solberg, 909.

30. E. Southard, The Frescoes in Siena’s Palazzo Pubblico 1289-1539: Studies in Imagery and Relations to Other Communal Palaces in Tuscany (New York: Garland, 1979), 66-70; Kawsky, 63, n. 70.

31. Strehlke, 37, discusses the development of a dual iconography stressing both the Virgin and Roman antiquity, and cites as examples Taddeo di Bartolo’s frescoes of the life of Virgin, painted 1406-1408 in the chapel of the Palazzo Pubblico, and his frescoes of Roman Republican heroes in the adjacent Antechapel in 1414.

32. See P. Bacci, “La ‘colonna’ del Campo proveniente da avanzi romani presso Orbetello e la ‘Lupa’ di Giovanni e Lorenzo Turini, orafi senesi (1428-1430),” La Balzana 1 (1927): 227-231; Angelini, 50-51; and Fabrizio Nevola, “Per Ornato della Città: Siena’s Strada Romana and

152

Fifteenth-Century Urban Renewal,” The Art Bulletin 82 (March 2000): 45.

33. For the Fonte Gaia, see Anne Coffin Hanson, Jacopo della Quercia’s Fonte Gaia (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965); and Kawsky, 52-69.

34. For the frescoes in the Antechapel of the Palazzo Pubblico, see Solberg, 993-994, and Kawsky, 69-90.

35. Fabrizio Nevola, “Urbanism in Siena (c. 1450-1512). Policy and Patrons: Interactions Between Public and Private,” Ph.D. thesis, Courtauld Institute of Art, 1998, 294; Strehlke, 58.

36. Nevola, 1998, 294. For such a reevaluation in terms of the architecture of the late fifteenth- century, see Nevola, 298.

37. See Banchi, and G. Rondoni, Tradizioni popolari e leggende di un comune medioevale (Florence: Arnaldo Fornice, 1996), 13-27. The legend has subsequently become known as the “Tisbo Colonnese” legend, and it is assumed that this was a pseudonym for the real author, Francesco Patrizi.

38. Francesco Patrizi, De origine et antiquitate urbis Senae, BCS B.III.3; Bartolomeo Benvoglienti, De urbis Senae origine et incremento (Siena, 1509); Agostino Patrizi, De Senarum urbis antiquitate, BCS B.III.3, fol. 4. An Italian translation of Benvoglienti’s treatise was published in Rome in 1571 as Trattato de l’origine et accrescimento de la città di Siena, and this is the edition consulted for this study. For a discussion of these works, see Cristofani, 122, and Nevola, 1998, 295-297.

39. Sigismondo Tizio, Historiarum Senensium, BCS B.III.6-15. The Tizio manuscript consulted in the Biblioteca Comunale in Siena is a copy, dated 1725-26, of the original manuscript in the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (Chigi G.I. 35). See Cristofani 120-124 for a review of this text and its heavy reliance on the writings of the Patrizi and Benvoglienti.

40. Nevola, 1998, 295-296; Strehlke, 55. Strehlke notes that Pope Pius II in his Commentaries attacked Biondo’s assertion regarding the foundation of Siena. The Pope countered by retelling several legends of the city’s antiquity.

41. For the floor pavement, designed by Giovanni di Stefano and executed between 1487 and 1489, see Mario Luccarelli, “Ermete Trismegisto nel duomo di Siena,”Bullettino senese di Storia Patria 98 (1992): 274-286; and Aronow, 240-57.

42. Cristofani, 106.

43. Fiorini, 56.

44. Ibid. For the Strada Romana in the fifteenth century, see Nevola, 2000, 27-50.

45. Ibid. The reference to S. Donato relates to a church near the site that is no longer extant.

46. Benvoglienti, 32-33; Pecci, Raccolta universale di tutte l’inscrizioni arme e altri monumenti

153

si antichi come moderni essistensi in diversi luoghi pubblici della Citta di Siena fino a questo presente anno MDCCXXX, ASS D.4, fol. 27r-28v.

47. Benvoglienti, 33. For a discussion of the inscriptions located at via Montanini, 3, see Cristofani, 106-107.

48. F. Patrizi, 21r-22r. The Arco delle Due Porte, with one of its two arches having been walled up for centuries, is apparently part of the oldest circuit of city walls. See Torriti, 208-229.

49. Cristofani, 106.

50. Nevola, 1998, 354-358. See also Nevola’s forthcoming article regarding the entry of the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick III into Siena in 1451.

51. Fabio Bargagli Petrucci, “Notizie di un arco romano in Siena,” Rassegna d’arte senese 2 (1906): 18-30.

52. Cristofani, 119; Giulio Piccolomini, Siena illustre per antichita celebrata, BCS C.II.23, fol. 6v.; Bargagli Petrucci, 21-22. Piccolomini’s arch, attributed to the Senatus populusque Seninsis, was reconstructed from a fragmentary inscription discovered in 1576, several columns subsequently dispersed around the city, and a single capital. It was supposedly located at the beginning the via delle Murella, the present-day via Pendola.

53. Alessandro Leoncini, “Castelvecchio. Topografia e immagini medioevali,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 102 (1997): 441, n. 31.

54. Ibid., 441-442. Teofilo Gallaccini, writing in the seventeenth century, thought the Porta Aurea to had been located on the vicolo dal Saltarello, and Torriti as recently as 1988 perpetuated this error by pointing to the present-day Arco di S. Lucia on the vicolo dal Saltarello as the successor to the Porta Aurea. See T. Gallaccini, Informazioni dell’antichità di Siena di Teofilo Gallaccini dottore di medicina e pubblico lettere di mattematica nello Studio di Siena, ASS, D.8, 284; Toritti, 220.

55. Benvoglienti, 3.

56. Leoncini, 442-443.

57. Julian Gardner, “An Introduction to the Iconography of the Medieval Italian City Gate,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 41 (1987): 209.

58. For the arch at Rimini, see Diane Favro, “Arch of Augustus, Rimini” in An Encyclopedia of the History of Classical Archaeology, 2 vols., ed. Nancy T.de Grummond (Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1996) 1: 65.

59. Gardner, 209.

60. For the Porta Aurea at Ravenna, see H. Kahler, “Die Porta Aurea in Ravenna,” Römische Mitteilungen 50 (1935): 172.

154

61. Debra Pincus, The Arco Foscari: the Building of a Triumphal Gateway in Fifteenth Century Venice (New York: Garland, 1976), 155-158. Alberti’s famous passage on the subject in his De re aedificatoria of the mid-1450s as cited in Pincus, 156, n. 49: “I am of the Opinion, that the Invention of Arches were owed to those that first enlarged the Bounds of the Empire.... Now though they extended the Limits of the City, yet they thought it proper to preserve the old city gates, for several reasons, and particularly because they might some time or other happen to be a safeguard against the irruption of an enemy. Afterwards as these gates stood in the most conspicuous places, they adorned them with the spoils which they had won from their enemies, and the ensigns of their Victories...” Ten Books on Architecture, trans. James Leoni, London, 1755, 174 (Book VIII, Chapter 6; reprint, ed. J. Rykwert, NY, 1966).

62. For the creation of a mythical ancient heritage for Venice, see Patricia Fortini Brown, Venice and Antiquity. The Venetian Sense of the Past (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1996).

63. Richmond, 149-151; Fred Kleiner, The Arch of Nero in Rome. A Study of the Honorific Arch Before and Under Nero (Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider, 1985), 36-37; Ralph Lieberman, “Real Architecture, Imaginary History: The Arsenale Gate as Venetian Mythology,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 54 (1991): 117-126.

64. For the Arco Foscari, see Pincus above note 61.

65. Leoncini, 454-55.

66. Leoncini, 460-61. Leoncini 456-458 makes a less convincing argument for a reference to the Porta Aurea in the gateway rendered in Apparition of Christ to Two Pilgrims Outside the Gate of Emmaus, a panel of Duccio’s Maestà formerly located on the high altar of Siena Cathedral.

67. Duccio Balestracci, “Pietre e mattoni. Le tecniche construttive nella Siena medievale,” in Il colore della citta Siena,Maurizio Boldrini, ed. (Siena: Protagan Editori Toscani, 1993), 19-20; R. Parenti, “Fonti materiali e lettura stratigrafica di un centro urbano: i risultati di una sprimentazione ‘non tradizionale’” Archeologia medievale 19 (1992): 22-25.

68. Benvolienti, 20.

69. Leoncinii, 439; Mario Moretti, L’Architettura romanica religiosa nel territorio dell’antica Repubblica Senese (Parma: Benedettine, 1962), 299.

70. V. Lusini, “Di alcune sculture in Duomo,” Rassegna d’arte senese 9 (1913): 4.

71. Cristofani, 117; Meiss, 157.

72. Benvoglienti, 18-19; Cristofani, 149.

73. Cristofani, 113-14. Tizio is the first to report the sarcophagus to be in the sacristy, along with a now lost fragment of a Roman inscription.

155

74. Benvoglienti, 19-20; Tizio, fol. 402r.

75. W. Altmann, Die römischen Grabaltare der Kaiserzeit (Berlin: Weidmannsche, 1905), 68-87; Diana E. E. Kleiner, Roman Imperial Funerary Altars with Portraits (Rome: Bretschneider, 1987), 21, 75-76.

76. Pecci, fol. 137r.; Cristofani, 158-59.

77. Bargali Petrucci, 27.

78. For discussion of attributions of the pedestals, see the Catalogue below.

79. Lusini, 1913, 8-14.

80. Richter, 92.

81. Ibid., 99.

82. For the Arch of Constantine, see H. P. L’Orange and A. von Gerkan, Der spätantike Bildschmuck des Konstantinsbogens (Berlin: De Gruyter 1939); D. E.E. Kleiner, Roman Sculpture (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1992), 444-455; Philip Peirce, “The Arch of Constantine: Propaganda and Ideology in Late Roman Art,” Art History 12 (December 1989), 387- 418.

83. Roger Jones and Nicholas Penny, Raphael (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1983), 199- 200. Raphael’s letter in part reads, “It [architecture] was the last of the arts to be lost, as many things bear witness, among them the Arch of Constantine, which is well composed, and well made as far as its architecture is concerned, but its [contemporary] sculptures are quite ridiculous, without art or any sense of good design. Those sculptures that it has from the spoils of [the monuments of] Trajan and Antoninus Pius are most excellent and perfect in style.”

84. C. Pietrangeli, Via del Corso (Rome: Cassa di Risparmio, 1961), 34-36; S. Stucchi, “L’Arco detto di Portogallo sulla Via Flaminia,” Bullettino della Commissione archeologica Comunale di Roma 73 (1949-50): 101-124; Richard Krautheimer, The Rome of Alexander VII, 1655-1667 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1985), 102, 183. By the time of Alexander VII, serious doubts had been raised about the origins of the Arco di Portogallo, and the Pope collected written opinions from antiquarians, some stating that the arch was “neither ancient nor triumphal and only bedecked with sundry ancient ornament,” to protect himself from criticism that might arise over the demolition of an ancient monument.

85. Cynthia Hahn, “Seeing and Believing: The Construction of Sanctity in Early-Medieval Saints’ Shrines,” Speculum 72 (October 1997): 1082.

86. Richard Krautheimer, Rome. Profile of a City 312-1308 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980), 134.

87. Ibid.

156

88. Umberto Benvoglienti, Miscellane, BCS C.V.16, fol. 151r.; Bargagli Petrucci, 22. For Umberto Benvoglienti, see Cristofani, 156-58.

89. Benvolienti, 20.

90. For the Opera quarries, see Aronow, 204, 217-218; for giallo senese, see M. Micheluccini, I marmi della montagnola senese (Siena: C. Bruni, 1981), 81.

91. Agostino del Riccio, Istoria delle pietre, ed. R. Gnoli and Attilia Sironi (Turin: Umberto Alleandi and Company, 1996), 124, 202.

92. Ibid., 202. Del Riccio comments that white marble had been quarried by the Romans in the mountains near Gallena.

93. For giallo antico, see Gabriele Borghini ed., Marmi antichi (Rome: De Luca Edizioni d’Arte, 1989), 214-215; and Hazel Dodge and Bryan Ward-Perkins, ed. Marble in Antiquity. Collected Papers of J. B. Ward-Perkins (London: British School at Rome, 1992), 157.

94. For the use of giallo antico in the Pantheon, see K. de Fine Licht, The Rotunda in Rome. A Study of Hadrian’s Pantheon (Copenhagen: Jutland Archaeological Society, 1966 ), 101-102, 108-112.

95. Rolf M. Schneider, “Coloured Marble: The Splendour and Power of Imperial Rome,” Apollo 154 (July 2001): 3-10.

96. Piccolomini, fol. 6v.; Bargaglii Petrucci, 22.

97. A comparable example might be the use of two colored marble columns in Marina’s monumental altar for S. Maria dei Fontegiusta, completed around 1517. Torriti has commented that these columns may have been viewed as antique specimens, possibly brought from Ansedonia. The combination of an all’antica style for the altar, complete with these supposed spolia, and the political circumstances of the church’s construction, undertaken in thanks to the Virgin for the Sienese victory over the Florentines at Poggio Imperiale in 1478, is pertinent in the context of the political charge communicated by the Baptist’s chapel. See Torriti, 293, and A. Martelli, Santa Maria in Portico a Fontegiusta (Siena, 1908).

98. B. Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne: Aesthetics verses Ideology,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 41 (1987): 103-9. Giallo antico continued to be used as well for decoration of sacred spaces as in the ninth century Chapel of S. Zeno in S. Pressade in Rome where this marble was utilized for the revetment along the lower walls. See Linda A. Koch, “The Early Christian Revival at S. Miniato al Monte: The Cardinal of Portugal Chapel,” The Art Bulletin 78 (September 1996): 536.

99. Bellosi, 1993, 326-327.

100. Lieberman, 117-126.

157

101. For Baptism as a civic rite, see Enrico Cattaneo, “La Basilica baptisterii segno di unita ecclesiale e civile,” Ravennatensia 7 (1979): 9-32. For an overview of the cult of the Baptist in Florence, see Heidi L. Chrètien, The Festival of San Giovanni. Imagery and Political Power in Renaissance Florence (New York: Peter Lang, 1994); and Sally J. Cornelison, “Art and Devotion in Late Medieval and Renaissance Florence: The Relics and Reliquaries of Saint Zenobius and John the Baptist,” Ph.D. diss., Courtauld Institute, 1998.

102. Richard Trexler, Social Life in Renaissance Florence (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1980), 2, n. 4.

103. For the relic, see J. S. Gaynor and I. Toesca, S. Silvestro in Capite (Rome: Marietti, 1963), 114-118; and I. Toesca, “Il reliquario della testa di S. Giovanni Battista nella chiesa di S. Silvestro in Capite a Roma,” Bollettino d’arte 46 (1961): 307-314.

104. Antonio Filarete, Filarete’s Treatise on Architecture, Being the Treatise by Antonio di Piero Averlino Known as Filarete, ed. J. Spenser (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1965), 2: 45, n. 5; Gaynor and Toesca, 34-35; Trexler, 2, n. 4. The incident was subsequently brought up at the Council of Constance: “Et quod deterius est, caput sancti Johannis Baptistae, quod erat in monasterio monialium sancti Sylvestri de dicta urbe, vendiderat, seu pactum de tradendo fecerat florentinis pro pretio quinquaginta millium ductorum Quod et fecisset, nisi civibus romanis id per eum revelatum fuisset.”

105. Filarete, 2:45, n.5; Trexler, 2, n. 4.

106. P. Barocchi and R. Ristori, ed., Il carteggio di Michelangelo, 5 vols. (Florence: Sansoni, 1965-83), 2: 20; William E. Wallace, “Friends and Relics at San Silvestro in Capite, Rome,” The Sixteenth Century Journal 30 (Summer 1999): 423. For the reliquary tabernacle and altar, see Wallace, 419-439; and A. E. Popp, “Unbeachtete Projekte Michelangelos,” Münchner Jahrbuch der bildenden Kunst 4 (1927): 452-477.

107. Wallace, 424-425.

108. For the relationship between Michelangelo and Piero Soderini, see William Wallace, “Michelangelo In and Out of Florence Between 1500 and 1500,” in Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael in Renaissance Florence From 1500 to 1508, S. Hager, ed. (Georgetown: Georgetown University Press, 1992), 55-88; and R. A. Carlucci, “The Visual Arts in the Government of Piero Soderini During the Florentine Republic” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 1994).

109 Wallace, 427. The tombs were never realized. Soderini was buried in Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome in 1524.

110. Martha Fader, “Sculpture in the Piazza della Signoria as Emblem of the Florentine Republic” (Ph.D. diss., University of Michigan, 1977), 38.

111. Kawsky, 245.

158

112. Trexler, 5, n.11.

113. Ibid., 4.

114. Ibid., 5, n. 12.

115. Anna Moskowitz, “Donatello’s Reliquary Bust of San Rossore,” The Art Bulletin 63 (March 1981): 41-48.

116. For relic collecting as a means of recomposing a saint’s body and thus strengthening the power and position of a civic body, see Trexler, 60.

117. Cornelison, 174; D. Buoninsegni, Storie delle citta di Firenze dall’anno 1410 al 1460 (Florence, 1637),72.

118. P. J. Geary, Furta Sacra, Thefts of Relics in the Central Middle Ages (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), 113.

119. Trexler, 2, n. 4, notes that after 1451, the relics most often acquired were of non-patron saints.

120. Cornelison, 177-79.

121. One wonders if rivalry played a similar role in the purchase of several relics (including a piece of the True Cross, part of Christ’s clothing, and a piece of cane from the whip used to beat him) from Constantinople by the wool guild or Arte della Lana of Florence in 1454. This prominent group of relics may have been Florence’s answer to the similar and more famous cache of relics from Constantinople acquired in 1359 by the Ospedale di S. Maria della Scala in Siena in a deal ironically brokered by a Florentine middleman. For the relic purchase by the wool guild, see Buoninsegni, 110; Trexler, 2, n. 4; and Gene A. Brucker, Renaissance Florence (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 212. For the relics in the Ospedale, see Bellosi, 1996, 67- 78.

122. Debra Pincus, “Christian Relics and the Body Politic: A Thirteenth-Century Relief Plaque in the Church of San Marco,” in Interpretazioni veneziane, D. Rosand, ed. (Venice: Arsenale, 1984), 46; H. Fichtenau, “Zum Reliquienwesen im fruheren Mittelalter,” Mitteilungen des Institutes fur österreichische Geschtsforschung 60 (1952): 60-89.

123. Shaw, 95.

124. Kees Van der Ploeg, Art, Architecture, and Liturgy. Siena Cathedral in the Middle Ages (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1993), 79.

125. Bram Kempers, “Icons, Altarpieces, and Civic Ritual in Siena Cathedral, 100-1530,” in Barbara A. Hanawalt and Kathryn L. Reyerson, ed., City and Spectacle in Medieval Europe (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994), 107-110; Norman, 28-33.

159

126. Ibid.

127. Kempers, 114.

128. Ibid.

129. Ibid.

130. Ibid., 116-118.

131. G. Aronow, “A Description of the Altars in Siena Cathedral in the 1420s,” in H. Van Os, 1988, 2: 235; Norman, 3, and 218, n. 29.

132. Kawsky, 125-126, 245-246.

133. The pulpit was moved to its present location in the nave at the left transept between 1534- 1536. For the original position of the pulpit, see Max Seidel, “Die Verkundigungsgruppe der Sieneser Domkanze,” Müncher Jahrbuch der bildenden Kunst 21 (1972): 56.

134. Lucy Olcott, Guide To Siena. History and Art (Siena: Enrico Torrini, 1903), 24.

135. See for example H. W. Janson, Sculpture of Donatello, 2 vols. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957), 187-189; E. Richter, “Donatello’s Saint John the Baptist in Siena,” Source V (Spring 1986): 21-26; J. Pope-Hennessy, Donatello Sculptor (New York: Abbeville, 1993), 288-292, and 348.

136. G. Milanesi, Documenti per la storia dell’arte senese, 2 vols. (Siena: Onorato Porri, 1854), 2: 297.

137. E. Carli, Donatello a Siena (Rome: Editalia, 1967), 28-31.

138. AODS 867, fol. 21v.

139. V. Herzner, “Donatello in Siena,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 15 (1971): 161-167.

140. AODS 872; Herzner, 185.

141. Christiansen, Kanter, and Strehlke, 217.

142. See Catalogue below.

143. Chrétien, 15.

144. D. Webb, “Cities of God: The Italian Communes At War,” Studies in Church History 20

160

(1983): 121.

145. Ibid.

146. Trexler, 124.

147. Pope-Hennessy, 289.

148. Ibid.

149. R. Corrie, “The Political Meaning of Coppo di Marcovaldo’s Madonna and Child in Siena,” Gesta 29 (1990): 61-75.

150. Ibid., 62.

151. Ibid.

152. G. Prunai, “Aringhieri, Aringhiero,” in Dizionario biografico degli italiani (Rome: Istituto della Enciciopedia Italiana), 7: 161.

153. Shaw, 94.

154. Pecci, 1: 32.

155. For the sack of Volterra, see Enrico Fiumi, L’ impresa di Lorenzo de’ Medici contro Volterra (1472) (Florence: L. S. Olschki, 1948).

156. For Sienese response to the sack of Volterra, see Fusai, 298-299.

157. Mario Ascheri and Petra Pertici, “La situazione politica senese del secondo Quattrocento (1456-1479),” in La Toscana al tempo di Lorenzo il Magnifico. Politica economia, cultura, arte 3 vols. (Pisa: Picini, 1996), 3: 1011.

158. Allegretti, fol. 47v.; Pertici, 44.

159. Fader, 32-33.

160. Robert Cust, The Pavement Masters of Siena (London: George Bell and Sons, 1901), 50.

161. Aronow, 1985, 35.

162. Lusini, 2: 137-138.

163. Shaw, 100-102.

164. For the marble statue of the Baptist see, Joachim Poeschke, Donatello and His World. Sculpture of the Italian Renaissance (New York: Abrams, 1993), 474.

161

165. John Paoletti, “Fraternal Piety and Family Power: The Artistic Patronage of Cosimo and Lorenzo de’ Medici, “ in F. Ames-Lewis, ed., Cosimo ‘il Vecchio’ de’ Medici, 1389-1464 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), 202, n. 18

166. John Paoletti, “The Siena Baptistery Font: A Study of an Early Renaissance Collaborative Program” (Ph.D diss., Yale University, 1967), 26.

167. John Pope-Henessy, Italian Gothic Sculpture (New York: Random House, 1985), 208-209.

168. The tabernacle was commissioned for the high altar of the church of the Ospedale di Santa Maria della Scala, but was relocated in 1506 to the high altar of the Cathedral by order of Pandolfo Petrucci. The bronze Risen Christ was produced for Vecchietta’s funerary chapel in the Ospedale church, but was placed on the high altar there when the tabernacle was moved to the Cathedral. See Irving Lavin, “The Sculptor’s ‘Last Will and Testament,’” Allen Memorial Art Museum Bulletin 35 (1977-78): 8-15; and Luciano Bellosi, Francesco di Giorgio a e il Rinascimento a Siena 1450-1500 (Milan: Electa, 1993), 212-217.

169. For a general consideration of Donatello’s reputation after his death, see M. Collareta, “Testamonianze letterarie su Donatello, 1450-1600,” in Omaggio a Donatello 1386-1986 (Florence: Studio Per Edizioni Scelte, 1985), 7-47.

170. Kawsky, 105-108.

171. Alessandro Parronchi, “Il soggiorno senese di Donatello del 1457-1461,” in Donatello e il suo tempo (Florence: Instituto nazionale di studi di Rinascimento, 1968), 165-168.

172. For the Dovizia, see David Wilkins, “Donatello’s Lost Dovizia for the Mercato Vecchio: Wealth and Charity As Florentine Civic Virtues,” Art Bulletin 65 (September 1983): 401-423; and Sara Blake Wilk, “Donatello’s Dovizia as an Image of Florentine Political Propaganda,” Artibus et Historiae 14 (1986): 9-28

173. For the relationship between Donatello and Verrocchio, considered the “aemulus” of the former in terms of the Medici court, see Andrew Butterfield, The Sculpture of Andrea del Verrochio (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1997), 2, 28.

174. Pope-Hennessy, 1993, 292-293. On relations between Donatello and Cosimo de’ Medici, see Artur Rosenauer, Donatello (Milan: Electa, 1993), 158. See also Philip Foster, “Donatello Notices in Medici Letters,” The Art Bulletin 62 (March 1980): 148-150.

175. For the David, see Jason, 2:77-86; Ames-Lewis, “Donatello’s Bronze David and the Palazzo Medici Courtyard,” Renaissance Studies 3 (1989); and John Pope-Hennessy, Italian Renaissance Sculpture (London: Phaidon, 1996), 354-355. For the Judith and Holofernes, see Janson, 2: 198- 205; Antonio Natali, “Exemplum salutis publicae,” in Loretta Dolcini, ed., Donatello e il restauro della Giuditta (Florence: Centro Di, 1988), 19-32, which revives Janson’s argument that the Judith and Holofernes was originally produced for the Sienese; and Pope-Hennessy, 1996, 359-

162

360.

176. For example, see Carli, 33; Luigi Grassi, Tutta la scultura di Donatello (Milan: Rizzoli, 1958), 43; Janson, 189; Charles Avery, L’ invenzione del uomani (Florence: Usher, 1986), 101; and Rosenauer, 257-258.

177. Donatello’s Mary Magdalene is first recorded in the Florentine baptistery in 1500. Vasari states it was located opposite the tomb of the anti-pope Baldassare Coscia, and may have been produced specifically for a position on the southwest wall. See Jason, 190; and J. Pope-Hennessy, Italian Renaissance Sculpture (New York: Random House, 1985), 265-266.

178. Francesco Valcanover, “Il San Giovanni di Donatello ai Frai,” Quaderni della soprintendenza ai beni artistici e storici di Venezia 8 (1979-80): 23-30.

179. Janson, 187-189.

180. Deborah Strom, “A New Chronology for Donatello’s Wooden Sculpture,” Pantheon 38 (1982): 239 and 247, n. 5; A. M. Caccin, La Basilica di S. Maria Gloriosos dei Frari in Venezia (Venice: Zanipolo, 1992), 64

181. Valcanover, 27.

182. In 1437, The Florentines in Venice solicited the Medici for funding of their chapel in the Frari that may have led to Donatello’s involvement in the project. See Bruce Boucher, “Jacopo Sansovino’s St. John the Baptist: A New Document and a New Dating,” in Florence and Italy. Studies in Honor of Nicolai Rubenstein, ed. P. Denley and C. Elam (London: University of London, 1988), 438 and 441, n. 19; Paoletti, 1992, 210, n. 39.

183. Shaw, 1998, 293-294.

184. See for example, Roberto Ridolfi, “Le spedizione di Piero de’Medici nel 1497 e la repubblica senese,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 22(1963): 127-144.

185. Shaw, 1998, 280-282.

186. Ibid.

187. Fader, 170-196.

188. Ibid.

189. David Hicks, “The Education of a Prince: Lodovico il Moro and the Rise of Pandolfo Petrucci,” Studies in the Renaissance 8 (1961): 96.

190. See above, page 75.

163

191. Christiansen, 44.

192. It is important to remember that as the Oratory of Saint Ansanus fell under the jurisdiction of the Opera of the Cathedral, Aringhieri, as Operaio, would have been familiar with it. For the oratory, see H. Teubner, “S. Ansano in Castelvecchio,” in Die Kirchen von Siena, 2 vols., ed. P. Reidl and M. Seidel (Bruckmann: Monaco, 1985), 1.1: 325-29. For Saint Ansanus, see G.B. Gori, Vita del gloriosissimo Santo Ansano, uno dei quattro avvocati e battezzatore della città di Siena (Siena, 1576); F. Scorza Barcellona, “Un martire locale: Ansano,” Bullettino senese di storia patria XCVII (1991):10-33; and Savino Mazzini, San Ansano martire. Patrono e battista di Siena (Siena: Cantagalli, 1995).

193. Mazzini, 42.

194. Ibid., 12

195. Torriti, 129.

196. Nevola, 1998, 301. Nevola also cites the classicizing style of the reliefs by Giovanni di Meuccio Contadini over the main doorway of the Cathedral on the interior. These reliefs depict scenes from Ansanus’ martyrdom and were completed around 1460. They form part of a renewed interest in the saint based in a desire to reclaim the ancient past. For the reliefs, see G. Gentilini, “Il sangue del Rendentore,” in Bellosi, 186-87.

197. Benvolgienti, 3.

198. Leonicini, 452.

199. Mazzini, 22.

200. Landi, 105-6, note 105. A new chapel and altar to Saint Ansanus was promised by Duke Filippo Maria Visconti of Milan in 1430 in commemoration of the condottiere Carmagnola who had been decapitated in the war with Venice, but nothing came of this. See P. C. Decembrio, Vita di Filippo Maria Visconti, ed. E. Bartolini (Milan: Adelphi, 1983), 90, for the Duke’s plan to raise new altars next to relics of the city’s patron saints. Another initiative in 1451 involving the creation of two new altars dedicated to Saints Ansanus and Vittorius also went unexecuted, as did plans for a chapel to Ansanus in 1456 based on a design by Pietro del Minella.

201. Landi, 31, 108.

202. For the iconography of Saint Ansanus, see Fabio Bisogni, “L’iconografia di Ansano,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 97 (1991): 97-108.

203. Van Os, 1984, 1: 39-62, 79-81.

204. Richter, 34-35, 42-43.

205. Mazzini, 48.

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206. See for example the early sixteenth-century fresco by Sodoma in the Palazzo Pubblico and Francesco Vanni’s new altarpiece for the saint’s chapel in the Cathedral painted at the end of that same century. The ultimate development of the iconography can be seen in the Cathedral apse fresco painted in 1611 by Ventura Salimbeni. In this image, Saint Ansanus pours his baptizing waters over a model of the city of Siena, casting an unmistakable civic light on this episode from sacred history. See Carli, 1979, 137-138; A. Cairola, Siena. Il Palazzo Pubblico e il Museo Civico (Florence: I. F. I., 1985), 68.

207. Gigli, 1: 501.

208. N. R Parks, “On the Meaning of Pinturicchio’s Sala dei Santi,” Art History 2 (September 1979): 295-296.

209. Millard Meiss, Painting in Florence and Siena After the Black Death (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1978), 111-113; Christiansen, Kanter, and Strehlke, 228.

210. Thornton, 235.

211. Cairola, 68.

212. For this statue see Belossi, 218-221.

213. The connection between Saint Catherine of Siena and Saint Catherine of Alexandria was made more explicit in the seventeenth century when a marble image of Saint Catherine of Siena was set up in the Cappella del Voto directly across the Cathedral transept. For more on this statue, see the Epilogue below.

214. For example, see Cornelison, 16-127, for a discussion of renewed interest in Saint Zenobius in early fifteenth-century Florence.

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CHAPTER FOUR

THE KNIGHTS OF RHODES AND THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST

By the time the chapel of the Baptist was begun in the early 1480s, a suitable

environment for the arm relic was long overdue. The question arises if there existed a specific

impetus for undertaking the erection of a shrine at that time. As will be demonstrated, Alberto

Aringhieri’s membership in and intention to promote the Knights Hospitallers of Rhodes (Order of Saint John of Jerusalem) in part prompted the initiative for construction. The connection

between the Hospitallers and Aringhieri has long been recognized in the chapel’s two painted

portraits that depict Knights of the Order of Saint John of Jerusalem genuflecting before

Donatello’s bronze statue and the sacred relic that it evokes. The inclusion of these portraits has

been seen as a relatively simple act of personal piety on the part of the Operaio, even while a

general connection between the dedication of the chapel and the patron saint of the Order, John

the Baptist, has been recognized.1 This is, however, hardly the whole story; in fact, the chapel

has never been considered fully in the context of the Knights’ history or religious practices. 2

The purpose of this chapter is to explore in some depth the nature of the Hospitallers,

their interest in the cult of saints and relics, and the ways in which significant meaning for them

may have been integrated into the decorative program of the chapel. It will be proposed that the

Sienese monument, focused on the cult of the Baptist and sanctified by its relic, was likely

viewed as a substitute for the Knights’ main chapel on Rhodes, which, as we shall see, housed its

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own Baptist relic. In this way, the Cathedral chapel could have served the local Tuscan milites who were far from their Aegean headquarters.

The Hospitaller Knights were members of the Order of Saint John, an organization founded in Jerusalem in 1113 to provide shelter and medical assistance to pilgrims in the Holy

Land.3 With subsequent Muslim encroachment in the East, the philanthropic mission of the

Order was modified to include armed protection of pilgrimage sites and military campaigns against the Infidel, a new role that would be amplified after the fall of Acre in 1291. Retreating first to Cyprus, then to Rhodes in 1310, the Knights continued their vigilant defense of the

Catholic faith and territories with a small navy; along with the popes, they were the most ardent proponents of new crusades in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. In the West, the main concern of the Knights was the establishment and upkeep of a series of hospices posted along major pilgrimage routes throughout Europe.4 These were usually part of a local commandary, comprised of church, hospice and certain other territorial holdings under the direction of a

commander, a frater of the Order.

The fame of the Hospitallers reached its zenith in 1480 when, against overwhelming odds, a small force of Knights was able to defend Rhodes against a massive onslaught of Turks bent on eradicating the Order and eliminating one of the few obstacles left between the Muslims

and Christian Europe. This attack occurred just as the Turks were landing at Otranto in southern

Italy. While the Ottomans were briefly successful in gaining a foothold in Italy, their failure to

defeat the Knights on Rhodes seems to have helped force their departure from Italian shores.

Eventually Rhodes did fall to the Infidel in 1522, and, eight years later, Holy Roman Emperor

Charles V granted Malta to the Hospitallers as its new base of operations. The Order, now

known as the Knights of Malta, continues its charitable works today, primarily in hospitals

around the world.

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The Knights of Rhodes and the Cult of Saints and Relics

Any chapel or dedication to the Baptist on the part of the Knights in the late fifteenth century must be considered in the wider context of increased promulgation of the cult of John the

Baptist following the Great Siege of 1480. According to popular accounts, the victory of the

Hospitallers was ensured by the miraculous appearance of the Baptist in the clouds with the

Virgin, armed with shield and spear, at his side.5 The Turks retreated in horror at this apparition, and the Knights endeavored to pay thanks for the intervention of their patron saint by setting up altars and dedicating chapels to the Baptist across Europe.

This show of devotion constitutes part of a strong tradition of the veneration of saints and relics on the part of the Order.6 Although the original purpose of the organization was to provide shelter for pilgrims, its role became increasingly military; the Hospitallers came to be known as protectors of sacred sites and property, much like their contemporaries, the Templars.7 After expulsion from Acre, the Knights were no longer able to carry out this task, but there always seems to have been some official, if not realistic, hope of returning. An unratified treaty with the

Mamluks in 1403, for example, would have allowed the Order’s hospital in Jerusalem to reopen and would have placed the Hospitallers in charge of repairs to pilgrim shrines at the Holy

Sepulcher, Bethlehem, Mount Sion, and Nazareth.8 The reliquary collection of the Knights, in particular, made for an important link in the Quattrocento between their almost legendary past in the Holy Land and the reality of their present on Rhodes. The protection of relics was symbolic of the original mission of the Order in the East, including the safekeeping of both the pilgrims and the holy places they visited. Luttrell has pointed out the usefulness of relics as a means of raising funds for the Knights and the fact that pilgrims were encouraged to visit Rhodes to view

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sacred remains. 9 At a time when journeys to the terra santa were more treacherous than ever,

Rhodes became a pious substitute for the Holy Land itself.

One might also consider that the active collecting of relics by the Knights was meant to reaffirm their rightful place as defenders of Christianity in the eastern Mediterranean. Following the fall of the Latin Kingdoms, the military orders were severely criticized by European powers for failing to safeguard the Holy Land. In barely escaping Acre, the Hospitallers lost not only their strategic position in the East but also many of their relics that, before the fall of Jerusalem to the Moslems in 1187, had been displayed in the Order’s great hospital and church of Saint

John located near the Holy Sepulcher.10 The suppression of the Templars in 1312 brought with it the transfer of much of that group’s property, including relics, to the Knights of Saint John.11

The Hospitallers became in effect the sole permanent defenders of Christianity in the East and special caretaker of salvaged sacred property that bestowed a certain holy sanction on the organization. Thus their veneration and active visual promotion of the cult of relics can be read in one respect as a propagandistic justification of their military mission and the God-given right to carry it out, even in the face of a disastrous past.

Of special importance for the Knights were those sites in the East associated with the cult of the Baptist and his relics that had been lost to the Infidel, who, in many cases, simply converted Christian churches into mosques and then assumed control of the cult activity surrounding certain relics that were important to Islamic peoples. It is important to remember that John the Baptist, known to Muslims as Yahya, was among the most prominent of twenty- five prophets mentioned in the Koran. Belief in all the prophets of Alla was a fundamental article of Islam, and Yahya’s miraculous birth from a barren mother and elderly father made him one of the most important holy figures in that religion.12

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Perhaps the most famous example of Christian/Muslim conflict over a site and its relics is the Great Mosque in Damascus, construction of which was begun in 708 after Caliph Walid I demolished a fourth century church of the Baptist on the site to make way for the new structure.13 According to tradition, a cave in the foundations was discovered during construction revealing a small chapel with a basket and the severed head of the Baptist, reportedly uncorrupted with skin and hair intact.14 Walid had the head reburied under one of the pillars in the western end of the prayer hall, and then erected a monumental, domed shrine above as a devotional focus for veneration of the relic.15

The site had apparently been associated with the head of the Baptist from early times, and in fact after the Muslim conquest of Damascus in 636 and before the erection of the Great

Mosque, the church was actually shared by both Muslims and Christians.16 It seems, however, that it was only when the Christians were removed from the site and Muslim control complete that the Baptist allowed his head to be rediscovered, indicating its location, according to legend, by the bubbling up of his blood.17 The Christians in Damascus were obviously upset that such an important relic was in Muslim hands; they struck back by claiming to hold in their possession, in a new church in the city dedicated to the Baptist, an autographed copy of the Holy Koran.18

Other churches in the Holy Land had belonged to the Order itself at one time, and the loss to the enemy of these properties, along with the sacred treasures they preserved, would have been especially devastating for the Knights. The Djami al-Kebir, the Mosque of Yahya in modern Sidon, for example, had been a hospital of the Knights, subsequently becoming a major

Baptist shrine under Muslim control.19 Likewise, in 1291 a Hospitaller church in Beruit was transformed into the Djami al-Umari, the Great Mosque, complete with relics of the Baptist that drew many Islamic pilgrims.20

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The most prized relic of the Hospitallers was the right hand, with thumb, index, and middle fingers, of John the Baptist, presented to the Order in 1484 by Sultan Bajazet II as a peace offering (Figure 141).21 A commission of Knights was sent immediately to Constantinople to verify its authenticity. Among these was Guillaume Caoursin, Vice Chancellor of the Order, who described the history of the relic in his De translatione sacrae dextram, published in 1484.22

According to Caoursin, the hand of the Baptist had been removed from the saint’s secret grave near Sebaste and carried to Antioch by Saint Luke. There it was left in the care of good

Christians and for several hundred years was venerated in that city. Hidden at one point to avoid discovery by Julian the Apostate, who wished to erase the memory of the Baptist, the arm performed several miracles, including the destruction of a foul-breathed dragon and the annual prediction of crop yields.23 Eventually the arm was stolen by a deacon of the Church of Antioch and presented to Emperor Constantine VII, who, as a great advocate of the Baptist’s cult, was known to have desired the arm. The holy relic was then carried through Constantinople and finally ensconced in the church of Saint John in Petra, where it remained until the city fell into

Infidel hands in 1453.

The significance of John’s remains for the Ottoman Turks further complicates the history surrounding the relics of the arm and hand of the Baptist. Both the Knights of Rhodes and the

Sienese claimed that their respective Baptist relics came from the Church of Saint John in Petra, a church known to have been sacked in 1453 during the Turkish siege of Constantinople.24

Although both of these relics were said to be the right arm and hand, another relic, also identified as the right arm of the Baptist, was held by the Turks, housed until recently in the Sultan’s Royal

Treasury along with the most important Muslim relics, including the mantle of Mohammed

(Figure 142).25 Pilgrim accounts of such relics in Constantinople generally confuse the issue. In

1404, for example, the Spanish ambassador Clavijo reportedly saw an arm of the Baptist in the

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church of the Virgin Peribleptos, confirmed by Russian travelers.26 He also described another

arm as being in the church of Saint John in Petra; this may have been thought to be either John’s

left arm or a relic of a different saint all together, although it continued to be accepted by many

as the right arm of the Baptist.27 The exact source of the Turkish arm is unclear, but with the capture of Constantinople, the Ottoman Sultan Mehmet the Conqueror would have had access to all of the city’s churches and relics.

Kalavrezou and Bayraktar are incorrect in stating that the arm apparently acquired by the

Turks and held by them for centuries was the same arm presented to the Knights of Rhodes in

1484 for that relic traveled with the Hospitallers to Malta and was never returned to the Sultan.28

That is not to say that the Ottomans did not want their relic back, and, in fact, they demanded the

return of the arm as part of the Knights’ surrender of Rhodes in 1523; they failed, however, to

negotiate its reacquisition.29 In any case, their interest in this holy object underscores the

significance of relics of the Baptist for the Muslims, and also the importance to the Knights that

such items be held by Christians rather than the Infidels. Any Baptist relic held by the

Hospitallers would thus have acted as a reminder of the Order’s historical crusading mission in

the Holy Land and would have symbolized the ongoing competition with Muslims for control of

sites and objects sacred to the cult and worship of the saint.

More specifically, the acquisition of this potent relic by the Order was viewed as a physical embodiment of the miraculous victory of the Order over the Turks in 1480 and a spiritual confirmation of the righteousness of the Hospitaller cause against the Ottomans. The

Knights were keen to exploit the political value of their military success and acquisition of the

new relic, the most overt evidence of which is to be found in Caoursin’s Descriptio Obsidionis

Rhodiae Urbis.30 This account of the Great Siege of Rhodes was published almost immediately

and no less than ten times in four different languages between 1480 and 1483.31 Of particular

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importance is the 1496 edition that includes coverage of the peace settlement with the Turks and the relic gift, and which, significantly, is illustrated by numerous woodcut images. Among these are specific scenes dealing with the precious Baptist relic, beginning with the greeting of the

Ottoman envoy Cariati Bey upon his arrival on Rhodes. The official donation of the arm is pictured in a ceremonial chamber in the Grand Master’s palace, where the enthroned head of the

Order, Grand Master Pierre d’Aubusson, accepts the gift from the Turk, who is distinguished from the encircling enclave of Knights by his distinctive clothing, long hair, and unshaven face

(Figure 143). More symbolic and reflective of the real significance of the gift is another woodcut image in which the arm, encased in its reliquary, is supported and displayed in mid-air by two hovering angels with outstretched wings (Figure 144). D’Aubusson and a group of

Knights stand to one side, while another angel whispers in the ear of Bey. Here the exchange is complete, and the relic is now the property of the Order. That this is right and fitting is obvious from the intervening angels, whose presence indicates divine approval of the relic’s new caretakers. Widely disseminated in Europe, these illustrations not only announced the acquisition of the relic by the Order, but also hailed the Hospitallers as appropriate trustees of such objects. Once again the Knights were identified as conservators of the holy, and as the relic would have been shown to prominent pilgrims visiting the island, the arm acted as a link to the

Hospitallers’ past in Jerusalem. The Descriptio, along with its woodcuts, ensured that this was common knowledge at the end of the fifteenth century.

Furthermore, the importance of the connection between the Order and relics of the

Baptist was not limited to the Turkish gift of 1484, but was a pervasive preoccupation of the brethren throughout Europe. The Order did own relics of other saints, but naturally it was the remains of their patron that held pride of place and which deserved special efforts to secure. One tradition holds that among those relics lost by the Knights in the fall of Acre was a right arm of

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the Baptist, thus providing at least legendary support for Knightly claims on similar relics, wherever they might turn up.32 John’s baptizing arm, for example, is attested by one source of

1436 to have been in the possession of the Hospitallers’ church of San Giovanni in Barcelona.33

Most indicative of the significance of relics to the organization are coins minted by the Order in the early sixteenth century that show on one side a severed head of the Precursor resting on a salver, an image apparently related to the reception of a new Baptist relic, a piece of John’s skull on a plate of gold, by Grand Master Emery d’Amboise around 1500.34 As stated above, access to or appropriation of these types of objects was a symbolic means of reclaiming some tangible remnant of the Knights’ lost heritage. Two examples will suffice to demonstrate how this reclamation was expressed in both private and public realms in art and architecture.

The Burning of the Bones of John the Baptist, executed by Geertgen tot Sint Jans around

1488 as part of a large polyptych for the high altar of the Hospitaller church in Haarlem, depicts both the original burial of the decapitated body and head of the saint and the subsequent burning of his bones at the command of Julian the Apostate, represented as a Turk on the right (Figure

145).35 Twelve onlookers massed around the open sarcophagus appear to be members of the

Order of Saint John, with at least five distinguished as Knights by the characteristic white, eight- pointed cross on their vestments. Two of these handle a bone, saved from the flames of destruction, and the same five appear again the middle distance opposite a larger group of

Hospitallers flowing through an open gateway. Both Synder and Chatelet have argued that the figures can be identified as specific Knights in Haarlem, including among them Commander

Johan Janssen.36 The apparent literary source for the narrative, the Golden Legend, also tells of a number of monks from Jerusalem who traveled to the tomb of the Baptist, returning with bones of the saint.37 In the Order’s painting, the real and legendary mingle: the monks have become

Knights, which is not altogether unbefitting considering the religious nature of the organization.

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Most important for this study is the fact that the painting shows Hospitallers rescuing and

removing a number of the Baptist’s remains. The bones handled by the Knights in the painting

have been described as those of John’s arm, which would imply some connection to the relic

obtained from the Turks in 1484. In fact, the date of the acquisition of that famous relic has been

used to support a dating of the panel in the latter 1480s.38 In essence, the picture stresses the

pseudo-historical role of the Hospitallers as rightful conservators of the Baptist’s remains, a role

that, as Chatelet has hypothesized, may be reflective of specific intentions of Janssen and the

Haarlem Knights. In the church of Saint Martin in Groningen there was, at least through the

sixteenth century, an arm of the Baptist thought to have been that held by the Order in Jerusalem

and later brought north by relic peddlers.39 Chatelet contends the painting may represent the

desire or intention of the Knights to reclaim that local relic for their own church.40

While the Haarlem painting may be viewed as a private expression of relic interest on the part of the Hospitallers since the work was only seen within the confines of the church, a more overt and public example of relic appropriation came in 1501 in Genoa, where the Baptist was and continues to be one of the city’s official protectors. The cult of the Precursor in Genoa centered on his sacred ashes that legend held had been brought from the Holy Land by returning crusaders in 1098.41 These remains eventually came to rest in a chapel in the cathedral of San

Lorenzo, but initially were housed in the church of San Giovanni di Pré, the main foundation of the Order of Saint John in the city.42 Thus, from its earliest days in Genoa, the relic’s history was connected to the Knights, having once been placed in their hands for safekeeping. The establishment of a special confraternity to promote the cult in 1299 and the initiation of a new

Cathedral chapel for display of the ashes in the mid-fifteenth century, however, highlighted the prominence of the relic on the civic stage and diminished the Knights’ direct involvement.43

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According to Bosio, it was the miraculous intervention of the Baptist in the Order’s victory over the Turks in 1480, and the resultant flurry of devotional activity on the part of the

Hospitallers, that renewed interest in the Genoese ashes.44 In 1501, Grand Master d’Aubusson, with the permission of local officials, founded a small oratory attached to the chapel of the

Baptist located between San Lorenzo and the adjacent baptistery.45 The focal point of the space was a large window, covered with an iron grill that breached the common wall of both structures, granting an unobstructed view into the chapel. This oratory, thus, provided a means of direct visual access to the ashes for the brethren of the Order, allowing them to carry on their rituals in an official Hospitaller space sanctioned by the remains of their patron. Veneration of a public relic had been privatized and the object was claimed, at least visually, by the Knights. In a sense, the oratory foundation can be seen as a type of reappropriation of the relic, as it were, recalling the original involvement of the organization with the ashes and fulfilling one of its historical roles, namely that of guardian and protector of sacred remains.

While John the Baptist was the primary patron saint of the Order, it is important to remember that the Knights also paid considerable devotion to the Virgin. In fact, when taking the solemn oath to serve, new initiates had to call upon Mary, as well as the Baptist, to witness their sincerity and to help them carry out their duties.46 The Virgin’s importance to the

Hospitallers was most evident on the battlefield, beginning significantly with the taking of

Rhodes in 1309. After repeated assaults in the spring of that year, the island fell to the Order on

15 August, the traditional feast day of the Assumption of the Virgin.47 Subsequently, in 1322

Grand Master Elione de Villeneuve established by Capitular Decree that solemn ceremonies and processions were to be held annually on that day to commemorate the capture of Rhodes and the

Virgin’s aide and protection in the process; the importance of this observation was obvious as late as the eighteenth century when the Knights were still celebrating this occasion on Malta.48

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The Virgin again came to the defense of the Knights during the Great Siege of 1480, this time,

however, actually making an appearance on the battlefield. As illustrated by a woodcut in

Caoursin’s account of the siege, the Virgin, armed with shield and spear, stood at the side of the

Baptist in the miraculous vision which terrified the Turks, thus ensuring the Hospitaller victory

(Figure 146).

In the case of the battle of 1480, the Virgin’s assistance may have been in direct response

to devotional activity on the part of the Knights, for as Caoursin relates, during the siege the

Grand Master made a desperate plea for help before a thaumaturgic icon, known as the Madonna

of Phileremos, which was the focal point of the cult of the Virgin on Rhodes.49 According to a

magistral bull of 1497, this image had reached the island miraculously in the age of Byzantine

Emperor Leo III (ruled 717-741) which also saw the rise of iconoclasm. 50 The importance of

this icon and its mediating function between the Order of Saint John and the Virgin is indicated

by the fact that it was among the three major sacred objects (the others being the right arm of the

Baptist and a piece of the True Cross) carefully rescued from Rhodes and finally ensconced on

Malta following the successful Turkish invasion of the island in 1523.51

Mention should also be made here of the long established veneration of relics of the True

Cross by the Knights, important in the context of the Order’s crusading mission in the Holy

Land. Indeed, True Cross relics became symbolic of Crusading armies in the East, apparently

stemming from the discovery of such a relic in Jerusalem in 1099, and both the Latin Kings and

Patriarchs of Jerusalem considered it an indispensable palladium. 52 From its first appearance in battle against an invading Egyptian army in the same year, a fragment of the cross upon which

Christ was crucified routinely accompanied Crusader military units, usually carried by either the patriarch or the prior of the Holy Sepulcher.53 Like the Baptist’s arm possessed by the Knights, a

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True Cross relic became part of diplomatic wrangling between Christians and Moslems after it was captured by the Infidels at the Battle of the Horns of Hattin in 1187.54

Hospitaller devotion to the cult of the True Cross is evidenced by early coinage minted by the Order in the terra santa and official seals, both featuring images of the Grand Master genuflecting before a double-barred cross. (Figure 147).55 This type of cross was formed by the addition of a bar to the standard Latin cross shape. The added bar was representative of the titulus, or superscription of the cross, that identified Christ as the King of the Jews. The double- bared cross was traditionally associated with patriarchs, and, as Folda has noted, the patriarchs of

Jerusalem were known in the twelfth century to have presented particles of the True Cross to important dignitaries.56 These particles were often sent in reliquaries that took the form of the double-barred cross.57

Relevant to this discussion is the crystal, miter-shaped reliquary originally from the

Hospitaller church of John the Baptist in Jerusalem (Figure 148). Dated by Folda to the 1150s, this unique object encases multiple relics and reliquaries, with fragments of the True Cross prominently displayed in a double-barred cross between relics of the Baptist and Saint Peter.58

Here is early proof of the importance of the cult of the True Cross to the Knights, whose military goals, so aligned with that of the general Crusades, were also signified by the relic and its potential power.

There is evidence too of later Hospitaller devotion to the cult of the True Cross in

Europe, such as in the Oratory of the True Cross in San Francesco, Volterra. There, among the narrative scenes of the True Cross legend frescoed in 1410 by Cenni di Francesco di Ser Cenni, is John the Baptist painted with the cross of the Knights of Rhodes over his left breast.59

Although the matter is far from clear, it seems that the Hospitallers may have become involved with this oratory to some degree when funds for the decoration ran out in 1363, providing a

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ready made opportunity to express their devotion to this specific cult.60 Such veneration in the

West must be related to the fact that least one relic of the True Cross was held by the Knights on

Rhodes, where it would have served as another reminder of the Order’s history and original

purpose in the Holy Land.

Siena, the Crusades, and the Knights of Rhodes

The crusading mission of the Knights was received particularly well by the Sienese, who

extolled their own historical contributions to the recapture of the Holy Land. This is revealed by

an example drawn from the sixteenth century. Among the frescoes in the Palazzo Pubblico’s

Sala del Consiglio is a depiction of the Siege of Antioch in 1098 during the First Crusade.61 After

seven and a half months, Christian forces took the city on the night of 2 June, led, significantly,

by the Sienese Salimbene Salimbeni, supposedly the first to scale the walls of the city. For his

bravery, Salimbeni was named Patriarch of Antioch.62 Both the scaling of the walls and the appointment of the new patriarch are represented in the fresco, which celebrates Siena’s role in liberating, at least temporarily, a part of the Holy Land. Subsequent Sienese contributions to the emancipation of the terra santa were recorded by local historians, including, in the late sixteenth century, Malavolti, who celebrated the virtues of the many natives who fought at Jerusalem in

1099, Tolomaida in 1192, and Damiata in Egypt in 1219.63

In the fifteenth century, Siena’s response to calls for new crusades, however, was apparently less enthusiastic. Although the Sienese banker Ambrogio Spanocchi oversaw the funds for Pope Calixtus III’s crusading fleet, in general Siena was like many other small Italian polities in its reluctance to contribute funds or equipment to the cause, apparently assuming that the larger states would prevent Turkish encroachment in the West.64 Finally, in July 1463, Siena

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did promise Pope Pius II two galleys for his planned crusade, but the city government was slow

to respond to the crusading tax levied on the income of the laity.65 In 1464, the Sienese approved

a salary of 50 ducats a month for the captain of their two galleys, and in the same year, Pius

appointed Giovanni Bicchi of Siena to lead those ships in his armada.66 Bicchi was subsequently

charged with the task of helping to collect evidence from the East to authenticate the Sienese arm relic of the Baptist.67 The city was also required to provide four galleys per the papal briefs of

Pope Sixtus IV following the fall of Rhodes and the Turkish invasion of Otranto in 1480.68

With this information in hand, it is easy to see how the traditional presence of the Knights of Rhodes in Siena would have acted as a testament to the city’s historic commitment and exceptional contributions to the goals of crusading activity in the past, especially for anyone who might question a lack of response in such matters in more recent times. Indeed, the ranks of the

Order of Saint John had included generations of Sienese culled from the most noble houses of the city, including the Chigi, Malavolti, Pecci, Petrucci, Piccolomini, Sansedoni, and Saracini.69

Bosio even lists a Sienese, one Fra Ruggiero della Casa among those gallant Knights who

defended Rhodes during the Great Siege of 1480.70 Perhaps the most significant moment in the

history of the city and the Order came in 1445, when the Knights held in Siena a Capital General,

a meeting of their supreme governing body.71

In Siena itself, the Hospitallers maintained two commandaries that served the needs of

pilgrims traveling through the city along the Via Francigena to Rome or the Holy Land. San

Pietro alla Magione, then located on the Strada Roman (present day Via Camollia) just beyond

the northernmost gateway, the Porta Camollia, was among the properties of the Templars that

passed into the hands of Hospitallers in 1322 (Figure 149).72 Family crests of Hospitaller

commanders and the remains of the sixteenth-century open-air chapel of San Donnino, now

bricked up, are visible on the exterior, while a single tomb and remnants of mid-Quattrocento

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frescoes remain in the interior. The complex included porticoed structures behind the church and

a range of houses, still extant just south of the church, that were used as a hospice for sick and

weary travelers. Another commandary, that of San Leonardo inside the Porta Romana at the

southern edge of the city, was the earliest Hospitaller foundation in Siena, apparently already in

existence by 1173 (Figure 150).73 The location of these two commandaries, conveniently situated at the city’s major entrance and exit along the Strada Romana allowed the Knights to participate in the important pilgrimage culture and economy of the city, thus augmenting their broader function as defenders of the Christian West with a role more closely tied to local concerns. Siena’s urban development had been strongly influenced by the constant stream of medieval pilgrims who considered the city as an ideal resting point on the way to Rome, and the

Knights helped fulfill the practical needs of housing and health care for many of them. The cache of Passion relics obtained from Constantinople by the Ospedale di Sant Maria della Scala in the fourteenth century became the primary devotional destination of these visitors while in

Siena, drawing them to the hospital and the adjacent Cathedral in the heart of the city. The

Baptist’s chapel, its relic, and the Knightly components of its decoration, especially

Pinturicchio’s two portraits, would have been viewed by such pilgrims as part of the sacred holdings of Siena, reminding them, and the Sienese, of the Knights’ primary mission abroad as well as their daily assistance locally.

In the simplest terms, the Baptist arm in Siena would have drawn associations with relic use in the crusading context of the Knights’ military mission. The utilization of such holy instruments for the promulgation of new crusades was closely tied to Pope Pius II, donor of the arm, whose zealous passion to reclaim the Holy Land is perhaps best represented by his oration given on the occasion of the reception of the head of Saint Andrew in Rome in 1462.74 The Pope likened relics to Christians displaced by Turkish invasion, and he called on their powers to help

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defeat the Infidel, a message with particular meaning for the Knights in their campaigns against

the Ottomans. Pius’ special legacy in regard to crusades would have echoed years after his death

and been renewed every time the arm was venerated in the Cathedral. Both the head of Andrew

and the Sienese arm were acquired from Thomas Paleologus, despot of the Morea and brother of

the last Byzantine Emperor, and thus an Imperial source with an impeccable pedigree. Not only

would the arm’s Eastern origin have complemented that of the relics held by the Ospedale across

the piazza from the Cathedral, but also would have recalled that the Order previously had been

the recipient of Imperial gifts of relics. In 1390, the Hospitallers sheltered Emperor Manuel II

and aided him in retaking Constantinople from his nephew John VII; in return, in 1393, he

presented the Italian Knight Domenico de Alamania with numerous relics that came to be placed

in the chapel of the hospice of Saint Catherine on Rhodes.75

The Knights of Rhodes and the Baptist’s Chapel

There is evidence that points to a more direct involvement of the Hospitallers with the

Sienese arm of the Baptist and the chapel in the Cathedral. Writing in the eighteenth century,

Gigli relates that the Sienese Hospitallers celebrated their annual functions commemorating the

birth of the Baptist in the Cathedral chapel.76 It appears, moreover, that the Knights were

actively involved with the relic from the start, playing a part in the all-important process of authenticating the arm. A certain Marietto di Giovanni Soriani, Knight of Rhodes, provided notarized testimony on 30 August 1464 in which he claims to have seen the said arm in

Constantinople in the church of San Giovanni “de Petra.”77 The local Knights also are listed as among those prominent citizens, (including Alberto’s father, Francesco Aringhieri) who accompanied the relic on its initial, papal-led procession through Siena.78 If the Knights’ general

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interest in Baptist relics inspired focused attention on the Sienese arm, it was Aringhieri who was

in a position to express most effectively Hospitaller concerns when it came to designing the new

chapel. Since there is no extant evidence of major artistic patronage on his part at San Pietro alla

Magione, it is obvious that he chose to make his statement as a Knight in the Cathedral, a more

prestigious and visible location.

A number of earlier commissions that predate the Baptist chapel and that were carried out during Aringhieri’s tenure as Operaio, particularly the famous figurative pavements, may have been imbued with Knightly meaning in a way that was to receive more focused treatment in the

chapel. The dedicatory inscription that accompanies each of the pavements includes an

indication of Aringhieri’s membership in the Order of Saint John.79 These inscriptions identify

the works they accompany as relevant to the Knights of Rhodes and their world.

A parallel between the biblical scene depicted in the Massacre of the Innocents pavement

located just east of the chapel and the Turkish slaughter of Italians at Otranto in 1480 was

proposed early in this century by Schubring (Figure 151).80 The selection of this particular

subject has been connected to the Hospitaller victory in the Great Siege in the same year, an

achievement thought to have prevented further Christian bloodshed comparable to that of the

massacre. Moreover, the connection can be extended in visual terms by comparing the yellow

columns of the chapel’s facade and the utilization of the same colored marble for certain

elements in the Massacre of the Innocents. In this image, Herod’s palace, where the massacre is

set, is defined by several classical columns with shafts of giallo senese and Corinthian capitals of

white marble. If one stands between the pavement and the entrance to the chapel, the similarities

of materials in both appears overt and deliberate (Figure 152).

Accepting that the columns of the chapel were seen as symbolic spolia, as proposed in the

previous chapter, they can be viewed in the same way as the columns represented in the

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massacre scene, separated by time as well as space and translated from two to three dimensions.

This would point to the eventual downfall of the house of Herod, and this in fact is illustrated in

the pavement just outside the chapel entrance, the Expulsion of Herod. Conceptually, then, the

viewer in Siena Cathedral would assume the dismantling of Herodian structures after the king’s

defeat with the physical remains reused elsewhere. The insertion of such Herodian spolia --

conceptually the columns of the chapel -- into an honorific/triumphal arch before a shrine dedicated to the Baptist would reinforce the interpretation of the facade in terms of Christian victory over the pagan threat.

Interestingly, there is a pertinent example of the actual use of Herodian spolia that should be noted here. Between 1251 and 1252, the ancient port city of Caesarea, which was originally presented to Herod the Great as a gift from the Emperor Augustus, was refortified by King Louis

IX of France as a crusader stronghold with the aid of the Knights Hospitallers of Rhodes.81 Sixty huge granite columns of Herodian origin were placed in shallow waters to form jetties, and masonry blocks and columns of porphyry and granite, also from Herodian structures, were used to rebuild the citadel and strengthen the surrounding defensive walls.82 In 1261 the lordship of

Caesarea was sold to the Knights Hospitallers, although only a few years later, in 1265, it fell into the hands of the Baybars.83 Given Alberto Aringhieri’s affiliation with the Knights of

Rhodes, it is significant that the organization was involved in the reuse of Herodian remains into structures that were to be used to defend the Holy Land from the Infidel. The employment of the yellow, marble columns on the chapel’s facade, if they were meant to be connected to the

Herodian columns in the floor pavement, could be seen as a similar use of spolia in a monument that proclaims the triumph of the Baptist over the family of Herod and therefore, by association, that of the Knights of Rhodes over the Turks. Furthermore, one scholar has also noted that

Numidian marble was used in antiquity for the depiction of barbarians and captives, and it is

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possible that the very coloration of the chapel’s columns may have held meaning for the Knights

in their fight against the Turks, who were entrenched in Northern Africa where this type of stone

originated.84

The most important and overt visual markers that relate the decorative program of the chapel to the Order are the two portraits that flank either side of the entrance arch on the interior wall, painted by Pinturicchio.85 Located to the right is the figure of Alberto Aringhieri, dressed

in a long black robe, his hat laid to the side (Figure 36).86 The robe and especially the eight- pointed, white cross emblazoned across his left breast distinguishes him as a Knight Hospitaller.

The setting of the portrait is Eastern, as suggested by the palm tree to the left and confirmed by the background image of a fortified island, surrounded by Hospitaller warships. The island depicted is Rhodes, confirmed by the painted inscription in the fresco that reads “Rhodi,” and the specific view is taken from an early sixteenth-century woodcut that illustrated a poem regarding the Great Siege.87 Here Aringhieri is eternally present in the space, not in his local capacity as

Operaio, but in his office as a Hospitaller Knight in the perpetual act of prayer before his Order’s patron saint, represented in the chapel by Donatello’s bronze statue (Figures 25-26).

Aringhieri’s particular attire, the somber, black robe, reflects his sincere piety and is associated with the religious component of the Order of Saint John as opposed to its military aspect.

The portrait located in the parallel position on the left of the chapel’s entrance pictures a younger Knight, kneeling and fully equipped for combat, wearing armor with a sword hitched to his waist (Figure 37). The white cross that covers his red tunic, known to have been worn by the

Hospitallers in battle, makes obvious his membership in the Order of Saint John. Despite the prominence of the military paraphernalia, the image is one of quiet devotion for the figure; his helmet and gauntlets are removed and laid aside as he gazes directly ahead, in the direction of the

Baptist. The setting here lacks an identifying label, but Pinturicchio reutilizes the palm tree just

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behind the figure to help connect the two portraits and suggest another eastern locale. The

background presents a view down to the sea and includes a series of fortified structures, which

have been identified plausibly as a loose rendering of a Hospitaller stronghold in the Holy Land,

possibly even Acre.88 The identity of this figure has long been a mystery, with popular belief

holding that the portrait represents a young Alberto Aringhieri, while others have more

cautiously described him simply as a youthful knight.89 As argued above in Chapter 2, however,

this figure can be identified as Luzio Aringhieri, the son of Alberto. For the context of the

present discussion, it is also important to stress that Luzio is depicted as a Knight Hospitaller of

Rhodes.90

Both figures face across the chapel towards the object of their devotion - the statue of the

Baptist - in a way that energizes the surrounding space. These frescoes depend upon a common

formula for donor portraits in which the devotee genuflects before Christ, the Virgin, or other

holy figures.91 Both Bruhns and Johnson have discussed similar interactive donor portraits in

funerary chapels, including Michele di Firenze’s terracotta relief (1436) of Andrea Pellegrini in

S. Anastasia, Verona; and Mino da Fiesole’s bust (1464) of Bishop Leonardo Salutati in the

Cathedral of Fiesole.92 Both of these examples, as well as Pinturicchio’s portraits in the chapel of the Baptist, conform to Johnson’s definition of activated, communicative images. They all

represent the donor genuflecting and directing his veneration beyond the physical confines of the

depiction and across space towards a specific focus, usually an altar with a significant painted

altarpiece.

The combination of elements in the portraits and their directional focus on the bronze

statue can be related to precedents in the visual heritage of the Knights Hospitallers. The Baptist,

splendid in material and isolated in a niche, is visionary and ethereal in comparison to the two

painted figures that appear grounded solidly in this world, as evidenced by the specific setting of

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each portrait. Aringhieri and the young knight are seemingly confronted not with a physical

representation, but rather with a mystical apparition of their protector saint. This impression can

be associated with the miracle of the appearance of the Baptist that occurred during the Great

Siege of Rhodes in 1480 and that was illustrated by a woodcut in Caoursin’s publication.

Similar visionary imagery appears in the art commissioned by individual Knights of

Rhodes across Europe during the late Middle Ages and early Renaissance. The oratory of the

Knights at Cascina includes the painted image (1398) of Commander Bertoldo di Palmieri

kneeling with his hands clasped in prayer before a fresco of the Baptist, who seems to

materialize on the adjacent wall.93 Likewise, the French Knight Pierre de Bosredon is depicted in his Hours of the Virgin Mary (c. 1465) much like the young Knight in the Baptist’s chapel.

Dressed in armor with his gauntlets and helmet to the side, he genuflects before the saint, who is isolated visually by the decorative carpet that hangs behind him (Figure 153).94

What might be termed the visionary mode of knightly representation evolved from

thirteenth and fourteenth century Hospitaller coins and seals showing a Knight, often the Grand

Master himself, genuflecting before the Baptist (Figure 154).95 This type of image, with a

kneeling figure before a saint, should be connected to a broader tradition of sacred investiture of

earthly power and military mission. The origins of this visual formula can be traced back to a

mosaic (c. 798) in the triclinium of Pope Leo III at the Lateran Palace.96 Here, an enthroned

Saint Peter presents a banner, or vexilium, to a kneeling Charlemange, King of the Franks but not yet the Holy Roman Emperor, as a symbol of his charge to defend Rome and the Church. This visualization of a holy mandate continued to be utilized throughout the Middle Ages as seen, for example, on the obverse of a Venetian ducat from 1284.97 In this image, the kneeling Doge

Giovanni Dandolo accepts the banner of rule from Christ himself, who through this symbolic act bestows divine approval on the ruler. The chapel’s two genuflecting Hospitallers and their

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vision of the Baptist operate within this same tradition. The employment of the interactive visual formula here demonstrates the Knights’ willing acceptance of John’s message, which in the present context can be understood as a call to arms against the Turks. The formula also stresses the sacred sanction handed down by the Baptist that enables the Hospitallers, his chosen warriors, to carry out such a mission.

It is significant, moreover, that the earliest examples of Hospitaller coins and seals show the Grand Master of the Order kneeling before a True Cross relic (identified by a reliquary of the double-barred type), and not the Baptist. Obviously, for the Knights, this kind of image was also associated with relic veneration on the part of the Hospitallers . On the obverse of some of their coins the Holy Sepulcher was depicted, the ultimate pilgrimage destination and symbol of the

Knights’ historic role as protectors of holy sites (Figure 155 ).98 A similar type of topographical reference is combined with the devotional formula in the chapel portraits. In place of the Holy

Sepulcher, however, there now appears fortresses on Rhodes and Acre, acting as backdrops for the visionary experience of the figures. Instead of representing sites of pilgrimage, here the military mission of the Order is stressed by views of their citadels, physical manifestations of

Hospitaller dedication to the organization’s causes and devotion to its spiritual leader. These were the places from which the Holy Land and its sacred sites had been defended and, in the case of Rhodes, it was hoped would be won back from the Infidel. This ultimate victory was ensured by the unyielding support of the Baptist, confirmed previously in his inspiring appearance on the battlefield against the Turks and reaffirmed in his presence in the Cathedral chapel. When viewed as an interrelated ensemble, John’s approval of the military goals of the Order seems almost palpable, with the rightward turn of the head of the statue in the direction of the portrait of the young Knight, who is dressed to engage the enemy.

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The significance and potency of these images was fully realized only on those occasions

when the arm relic was revealed in the chapel. In that moment, the Baptist was physically

present, the visionary became real, and all the historical and spiritual meaning invested in relics

by the Order would have coalesced. By including these portraits in the decor of the chapel,

Aringhieri insured that the saint and his remains always would be venerated by a member of the

Order. Thus he boldly claimed this public monument as Hospitaller domain. Aringhieri used

both the arm and the chapel for his own purposes in a way that we have seen to be characteristic

of the Knights’ involvement in the cult of relics. The paired images of the two Hospitallers,

stationed on either side of the chapel’s entrance, recalls the very specific role of the Order as

protector of holy sites and objects, in this case of both the cult image of the Baptist and his relic.

These painted knights eternally venerate their patron saint and are ever watchful over his sacred

arm, drawing comparison with the chapel of the Baptist in Genoa where the Knights visually

appropriated the Precursor’s ashes by creating a window through which they could constantly

focus their adoration.

Other components of the decorative program of the chapel reinforce the chapel’s

importance to the Knights of Rhodes. Saint Catherine of Alexandria is rendered twice in the

chapel: once in Neroccio di Bartolomeo’s marble sculpture in the niche to the right of the

Baptist, and again in one of the intarsia panels executed by Antonio Barili for the semi-circular bench that ran around the interior (Figures 30, 46).99 Traditionally, the presence of Catherine has been explained in terms of the history of the Cathedral. The north transept wall that was pierced during construction of the new chapel previously backed onto the Petroni chapel, which featured among other things an altar dedicated to Catherine of Alexandria, the family’s patron saint.100

Both the Petroni tomb and, presumably, the altar were moved to the adjacent west wall in wake of work on the chapel of the Baptist. Therefore, even though Catherine’s shrine appears to have

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survived the construction, scholars have seen the commemoration of the saint in the new chapel by means of a sculpture as a continuation of this older association.101 While her inclusion in the decorative program may be explained in part by a dedicatory obligation, Catherine’s true role in the space was related directly to Aringhieri and the Knights of Rhodes.

Catherine of Alexandria had always been of importance to the Knights, and especially to the Italian members of the Order, who chose her as their holy defender.102 One reason for this privileged position among the Hospitallers is explained by the fact that the Italian Knights were in charge of the Order’s navy, and Catherine was known as a patron of sailors. The popularity of her cult on Rhodes was reflected in numerous structures bearing her name and works of art illustrating her life, including a series of frescoes that lined the side walls of the Grand Master’s private chapel where numerous relics were kept.103 Most important for Aringhieri’s project is the fact that the Order held a reliquary arm and hand of Saint Catherine, kept in that same chapel on

Rhodes (Figure 156).104 Services on the saint’s feast day on 25 November were held on Malta in the sixteenth century, including two masses, one in the chapel of the saint and the other on the high altar of the Conventual Church. On these occasions the arm relic was processed through the streets and it is possible that similar activities were carried out earlier by the Knights while on

Rhodes. Their possession of this relic also stressed the historical relationship between the

Hospitallers and the traditional site of the saint’s tomb on Mount Sinai. The Italian Knights were charged with the upkeep of Catherine’s shrine there and vowed to protect all pilgrims who traveled to see it.105

As an Italian Hospitaller, Aringhieri would have wanted this important patron of the

Knights to stand alongside the Order’s primary saint in the chapel. In effect, Catherine continues to watch over Alberto, present in the portrait adjacent to her statue, and in one sense she provides a more personal sanction to the project in terms of Hospitaller veneration of saints. The

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connection between the arm of the Baptist in Siena and the Order’s arm of Catherine would not have been missed by Aringhieri either, and in fact, at one point in 1484, the Knight’s arm of

Saint John was placed temporarily in the chapel of the Grand Master on Rhodes alongside the similar relic of Catherine.106 As the portraits in the Cathedral are set before Hospitaller fortresses, it is possible that these images, especially that of the armor-clad youth, drew a reference to the

Order’s lost role as protector of pilgrims and pilgrimage sites. Like the case of Catherine and

Mount Sinai, the painted Knights in the chapel fulfill that role in Siena as guardians of the relic of the Baptist.

An intarsia panel that once existed in the chapel showing Catherine of Alexandria debating Emperor Maxentius underscores the parallel between the saint and the Hospitallers as defenders of the faith in the face of heathen attack (Figure 46). Catherine attempted to convert the Emperor to Christianity and here is shown arguing in favor of the existence of God in the presence of fifty wise men who were defeated. This defeat is echoed by the wheel at her side, the instrument of an unsuccessful attempt to torture and kill the saint. In this particular episode of her life, Catherine makes for an excellent exemplar for the Knights, who were called upon constantly to risk life and limb against overwhelming odds in battling well-equipped Ottoman forces. It is significant that the iconographical message of the chapel has been related to papal calls for new crusades, and it is in relation to Catherine, in the intarsia panel, that the only representation of a Turk appears in the monument.107

Although not a saint officially venerated by the Order of Saint John, Saint Ansanus, the third saint chosen for depiction in the chapel, nonetheless may have held a certain appeal for the community of Knights in and around Siena. Indeed, the Knights of Rhodes may have viewed the saint as both a secondary patron, with a local significance for Sienese brethren, and, at the same time, a disciple of the Baptist, much like themselves. Depictions of Ansanus through the mid-

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fifteenth century show the saint with the crusading banner of Christ, and written accounts of his

life from the fourteenth century refer to him as cavalieri, a young Roman knight turned Christian

who took up the holy cause in the face of pagan threats.108 The comparison with the Order and

its fight against the Turks is clear. Although Ansanus is presented as the “Sienese Baptist” in the

chapel statue, the placement of this work just to the right of Pinturicchio’s portrait of the young

Knight supports an association with crusading ideals (Figure 28). The contemporary viewer,

aware of the knightly nature of Ansanus, was invited to draw a direct comparison between the

two figures and contemplate the common nature of their respective missions. The association

between them also is stressed visually, for whereas the portrait of Alberto presents the Operaio

nearly frontal and thus more directionally aligned with the bronze Baptist, the younger Knight is

shown almost in profile and his gaze is elevated, so that one feels he is communicating not only

with Donatello’s statue across the space, but also with the marble Ansanus immediately to his

left and above.

Having considered both the history of the Knights’ interest in the cult of relics and those aspects of the Sienese chapel that relate to the Order, it is apparent that in addition to its personal and civic associations, Aringhieri’s monument derived much of its imagery and meaning from the Knights of Rhodes. The commissions for the intarsia panels and the statue of Catherine came

in 1483 and 1487 respectively, and Pinturicchio’s portraits, most important for connecting the

space with the Hospitallers, were not undertaken until the beginning of the Cinquecento. Thus,

while the initial motivation for the chapel may be tied to the Great Siege of 1480, the subsequent

development of the decorative program may have been affected, or even intensified, by the

Turkish gift of the Baptist’s relic to the Hospitallers on Rhodes in 1484 and the implications of

this donation for Siena’s own relic of the Baptist.

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The Baptist’s chapel was thus employed to promote the Knights and in the process evoked the essential features of the Grand Master’s chapel on Rhodes. Both foundations housed right arms and/or hands of the Baptist, the most precious relic owned by the Order, and each is reported to have been venerated in earlier times in the Constantinopolitan church of Saint John in

Petra. The two relics may have seemed physically related by means of miraculous replication, the idea the sacred remains often multiplied of their own accord.109 The chapel on Rhodes was dedicated to Saint Catherine of Alexandria, and as stated above, her arm relic at one time was displayed alongside that of the Baptist. Her importance, especially to the Italians, was echoed in the Sienese chapel in both the statue and intarsia panel. Those Knights who traveled to Rhodes would have been familiar with the chapel there and could have made direct comparisons between the two shrines, and pilgrimage accounts would have aided others lacking this experience to make the connection.

The Sienese chapel provided a surrogate for one of the primary sanctuaries of the

Hospitallers, erected in the heart of Siena’s religious center. With its sanctifying relic, patron saints, knightly devotees, and painted fortresses, the visual images of the Cathedral chapel exalted the history, traditions, and aims of the Order of Saint John and reinforced these for future generations of Hospitallers. While the Knights’ victories and defeats were played out thousands of miles away, Aringhieri and his chapel would have helped sustain interest for local brethren and maintained a link that otherwise existed between Tuscany and the Holy Land. 110

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1. Thornton, 232-239. Thornton’s article is mainly concerned with the intarsia panels but includes one of the few discussions of the chapel’s iconography, although it does not go far enough in its analysis, especially in terms of Aringhieri and his importance for the project.

2. H. J. A. Sire, The Knights of Malta (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994); David M. Stone, “The Context of Caravaggio’s ‘Beheading of St. John’ in Malta,” The Burlington Magazine 139 (March 1997): 161-170. There has been no comprehensive consideration of the art or artistic patronage of the Knights. Sire’s history of the Order is one of the first texts to effectively integrate a discussion of such matters, but its broad scope, covering all of Europe from the Middle ages to the modern day, allows only for a general treatment of monuments without in-depth examination of their Knightly content. Stone’s contextualization of the Beheading of John the Baptist by Caravaggio perhaps offers the best model to date for consideration of the visual heritage of the Order on its own terms.

3. For the early history of the Order, see Jonathan Riley-Smith, The Knights of St. John in Jerusalem and Cyprus (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1967); and Sire, 3-39.

4. . For Italian commandaries in particular, see E. Schermerhorn, On the Trail of the Eight- Pointed Cross. A Study of the Heritage of the Knights Hospitallers in Feudal Europe (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1940), 342-378.

5. Giocomo Bosio, Dell’ Istoria della sacra religione et illustrissima militia di San Giovanni di Gersolimitani (Venice, 1695), 313.

6. Anthony Luttrell, “The Spiritual Life of the Hospitallers,” Ordines Militares 7 (1993): 83-84. The Knights professed loyalty to God, the Virgin, and the Baptist when taking their vows; their liturgical calendar included days assigned to saints connected with Jerusalem.

7. Riley-Smith, 59.

8. Anthony Luttrell, “Rhodes and Jerusalem, 1291-1411,” Byzantinische Forschungen 12 (1992): 193-199.

9. Luttrell, 1993, 84. Luttrell states the organization of liturgical feasts and processions in conjunction with relics was meant to encourage alms giving and bring revenue into the Order’s coffers; he singles out the Province of Alamania in his discussion.

10. Anthony Luttrell, “The Rhodian Background of the Order of Saint John on Malta,” in The Order’s Early Legacy in Malta, ed. John Azzopardi (Valletta: Said, 1989), 10. Pilgrim guidebooks of Jerusalem report that the Hospitaller church of Saint John had among its relics the stone water pot in which Christ turned water to wine, the head of Saint Philip, and strands of the Magdalene’s hair.

11. Francesco Tommasi, “I Templari e il culto delle reliquie,” in I Templari: mito e storia, ed. G. Minnucci and F. Sardi (Sinalunga: Viti-Riccucci, 1989), 203-210.

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12. Otto F. A. Meinardus, “The Relics of St. John the Baptist and the Prophet Elisha,” Ostkirchlichen Studien 29 (September 1980): 138. For a general overview of Islamic veneration of saints and relics, see Ignácz Goldziher, “Veneration of Saints in Islam,” Muslim Studies 2 (1971): 277-341.

13. For the Great Mosque at Damascus, see K. A. C. Creswell, A Short Account of Early Muslim Architecture (Aldershot, Great Britain: Scholar Press, 1989), 46-73.

14. Bridig Keenan, Damascus (New York: Thames and Hudson, 2000), 27. Keenen cites the Arab historian Ya’qubi writing in 874.

15. Ibid. The present marble shrine marking the spot is a late Ottoman construction erected after the destruction of a wooden structure in a fire in 1893.

16. Creswell, 63-65.

17. Keenan, 28.

18. Meinardus, 138. Although the main events surrounding this relic were played out very early, the enduring importance of the head of the Baptist to Christians, despite its location, was demonstrated as recently as May 2001 when Pope John Paul II, the first pontiff to visit the Great Mosque in Damascus, arrived to pray at the shrine of the Baptist inside.

19. Ibid.

20. Ibid.

21. John Denaro, “The Hand of John the Baptist,” Revue de l’Ordre Souverain Militaire de Malta 16 (1958): 33-38.

22. Ibid., 34-36.

23. Ibid.

24. Steven Runciman, The Fall of Constantinople 1453 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1965), 199.

25. Ioli Kalavrezou, “Helping Hands for the Empire: Imperial Ceremonies and the Cult of Relics at the Byzantine Court,” in Henry Maguire, ed., Byzantine Court Culture from 829-1204 (Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks Research Library, 1997), 68. See aslo N. Bayraktar, “Topkapi Sarayi Muzesi’nde Hagios Ioannes Prodromos’a (Vaftizei Yahya) Ait Rolikler,” Topkapi Saray Muzesi 1 (1985): 11-12; Fatih Cimok, ed., Topkapi Palace (Istanbul: A Turizm Yayinlari, 1990), 42-44

26. Kalavrezou, 69.

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27. Ibid.

28. Kalavrezou, 68; Bayraktar, 11-12.

29. Denaro, 1958, 32.

30. Giovanni Morello, Memorie melitensi nelle collezioni della Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (Rome: Benincasa, 1987), 36-37; Azzopardi, 83.

31. Robert Schwoebel, “Coexistence, Conversion, and the Crusades Against the Turks,” Studies in the Renaissance 12 (1969): 187.

32. Albert Chatelet, Gerard de Saint Jean e la Peinture dans les Pays-Bas du nord au XVeme siecle (Lille: University of Lille, 1979), 257.

33. Tomassi, 205.

34. Morello, 89-90, 5R; Luttrell, 1989, 13.

35. For Geertgen tot Sint Jans’ involvement with the Knights of Rhodes in Haarlem, see Chatelet, 224-261.

36. James E. Snyder, “The Early Haarlem School of Painting. II. Geertgen tot Sint Jans,” Art Bulletin 42 (1960): 125-127; Chatelet, 231. See also Alois Riegl, “Das hollandische Gruppenportrait,” Jahrbuch der kunsthistorischen Sammlungen des Allerhochsten Kaiserhauses 23 (1902): 71-278.

37. Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend, trans. William G. Ryan (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993), 2: 135.

38. Chatelet, 257-258

39. Ibid.

40. Ibid.

41. For the translation of the relic, see Jacobus de Voragine’s account in G. Monleone, Jacopo da Varagine e la sua Cronaca di Genova dalle origini al MCCXCVII (Rome: Tipografia del Senato, 1941), 1: 127-131. For the cult of the Baptist in Genoa, see L. Persoglio, San Giovanni Battista e i Genovesi, ossia vita, reliquie e culto del santo in Genova ed altrove (Genoa, 1899).

42. For the chapel in San Lorenzo, see Hanno-Walter Kruft, “La cappella di San Giovanni Battista nel Duomo di Genova,” Antichità viva 9 (1970): 33-50; for San Giovanni di Prè, see Anna Dagnino and Giorgio Rossini, San Giovanni di Prè (Genoa: Sagep, 1997).

43. Kruft, 33.

196

44. Bosio, 344.

45. Copia delle fondazione del Gran Maestro d’Aubusson per l’onorare le sacre ceneri di San Giovanni in Genova, Archives of the Order of Saint John, no. 495,1-76; Bosio, 344-345.

46. Zammit Gabarretta, “The Order of St. John and the Devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary, “ in V. Borg, ed., Marian Devotions in the Islands of St. Paul (1600-1800) (Hamrun, Malta: Lux Press, 1983), 250.

47. Ibid., 251-52.

48. Ibid.

49. Ibid.

50. Ibid.

51 John Azzorpardi, ed, The Order’s Early Legacy in Malta (Valletta: Said, 1989), 8.

52. Jaroslav Folda, The Art of the Crusaders in the Holy Land 1098-1187 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 35.

53. Ibid.

54. Ibid., 472.

55. Jean-Christian Poutiers, Rhodes et ses chevalieres 1306-1523 (Liban: Catholique sal Araya, 1989), 88, 170; Folda, 294. Although this type of image was long part of the Hospitallers’ history, it was still pertinent in the fifteenth century as evidenced by the seal of Grand Master Gianbattista Orsini (1467-1476).

56. Folda, 167.

57. Ibid. Folda states that the True Cross reliquaries sent from Jerusalem by patriarchs and others connected with the Holy Sepulcher were “typically a cross in the symbolic double-armed shape of the relic it contained.”

58. Folda, 297-298.

59. Arenberg Lavin, 117; Susanne Phlegee, “La Cappella della Croce nella Chiesa di S. Francesco di Volterra,” Rassegna Volterrana 56-60 (1983-84): 171-275.

60. Ibid. The Volterran Oratory, meant to serve the members of a flagellant confraternity, was originally commissioned by Giovanni di Giusti Ghuidi and Giovanni d’Ataviano Chorsino, according to the painted inscription in the first bay of the right wall. Archival sources state that the confraternity suggested the project be turned over to the “Podestà, o all’Ospedaliere, o al Rettore della Confraternita della Vergine, o della Compagnia de Bactenti di San Francesco.”

197

Arenberg Lavin has assumed that the “Opedaliere” refers to the Knights of Rhodes, who may have been given charge of the chapel, but she also argues that as a relative of Giovanni di Tommaso di Duccio Corsini, known to have worked with the Order of Saint John on Rhodes where he was buried, Giovanni d’Ataviano Corsini and/or his family may have recalled the tradition of the crusading mission of the Knights and their interests in the True Cross cult in the decoration of the space. She is incorrect, however, in asserting that Gioavnni Corsini had served as Grand Master of the Order. In fact, his association with the Knights appears unclear, with some sources indicating his entry into the Order in 1365, while others maintain that his presence on Rhodes was tied solely to Florentine mercantile interests on the island. There is little doubt however, that this figure was much involved with the Knights and understood, if not adopted, their devotional traditions. It is interesting to note that it was the same Giovanni Corsini who presented his brother, Piero Corsini, Bishop of Florence, with a thumb of the Baptist, which he had acquired from Byzantine Emperor John VII Palaeologos. The relic was then donated by Bishop Corsini to the Cathedral of Florence in 1391. For Giovanni Corsini, see A. Benvenuti Papi, “Giovanni Corsini,” in Dizionario biografico degli italiani, 29: 638-640; for the Florentine thumb of the Baptist, see Cornelison, 138-156.

61. Brandi, 299. The Election of Salimbeni Patriarch of Antioch is accompanied by the inscription: SENEN.M. SUB DOMINICO ET BONIFATIO GRICCIIS CUM RELIQUIS CRUCE SIGNATIS AD RECUPERAND AM SOLIMAM. DECR. PUB. MISSI ANTIOCHIAE PRIMI MUROS CONSCENDUNT EX QUO SALIMBEN ES SALIMBENIUS EIUS URBIS ANTIOSTES EFFICITUR. The lunette above shows The Siege of Antioch, dated to 1597.

62. Fusai, 53-54.

63. Orlando Malavolti, Dell ’historia di Siena (Siena, 1599), Bk. 3, pt. 1, fol. 26 r-v.; Bk. 4, pt. 1, fol. 47v- 48r.

64. Kenneth Setton, The Papacy and the Levant, 3 vols. (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1978), 2: 170; 275, n. 14.

65. Ibid., 2: 262, n. 111; 269.

66. Ibid., 2: 267, n. 123.

67. Spoglio delle pergamene dell’Opera del Duomo, ASS B40, fol. 160v. : “…per authentica della qual reliquia ... mancavano testimonanaze ...e lodovole …con nuovi testimoni essendo possibile, dovendo lo splendido Cavaliere, e Conte Misser Giovanni d’ Uguccio Bichi Capitano delle Galere guarde da Senesi contro il Turco andare in parti nelle quali verosimilnente pottrebero trovarsi testimonianze della versimiltude della detta Sacra reliquia…”

68. Setton, 2: 368.

69. The continued importance of the Sienese in the Order’s history is evidenced by two Grand Masters born in the city, Marcantonio Zondadari (elected 1720), and most recently, Ludovico Chigi Albani della Rovere (elected 1931). See Sire, 283-84. For a list of Sienese Knights of

198

Rhodes and their respective commandaries prior to the mid seventeenth century, see Ugurgieri- Azzolini,2: 285-293.

70. Bosio, 342. Ruggiero della Casa is listed as Commander of San Leonardo in Siena.

71. Vincenzo Buonsignori, Storia della republica di Siena, 2 vol. (Siena: G. Landi, 1856), 2: 26- 27.

72. Antonio Zazzeroni, “I Cavalieri di Malta alla Magione di Siena,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 89 (1983): 406-411; Pietro Torriti, Tutta Siena (Florence: Bonechi, 1988), 287-289.

73. San Leonardo now serves as the seat of the Contrada of Valdimontone, having left the hands of the Knights in 1743. Restorations in 1822 and 1938 have left little trace of the Hospitaller activity in the interior. Torriti, 350.

74. Ruth Rubenstien, “Pius II’s Piazza S. Pietro and St. Andrew’s Head,” in Essays in the History of Architecture Presented to Rudolf Wittkower, ed. Douglas Fraser, Howard Hibbard, and Milton Levine (Bristol: Phaidon, 1967), 87-103.

75. Luttrell, 1989, 11.

76. Gigli, 2: 354-355.

77. AODS 37, fol. 82r. The document in the Cathedral archives is a seventeenth century copy of the 1464 original. See also Stefano Moscadelli, L’Archivio dell’Opera della Metropolitana di Siena. Inventario (Munich: Bruckmann, 1995), 106.

78. Instrumentum donationis brachii et dexterae manus D. J. Baptistae, BCS, A.V. 7, fol. 3v. This document details the procession of the relic of the Baptist led by Pope Pius II through Siena on 6 May 1464. It includes a list of all those who particiapted in the procession.

79. Aringhieri’s status as a Knight Hospitaller of Rhodes is indicated in the floor pavements by either the phrase EQUITIS HYEROSOLIMITANI (Massacre of the Innocents), or EQUITIS RHODII (Story of Jepthah, Expulsion of Herod, Cumean Sibyl, Hellespontian Sibyl). For the complete inscriptions, see above, 93, n. 74.

80. Paul Schubring, “Das Blutbad von Otranto in der Malerei des Quattrocento,” Monatshefte fuer Kunstwissenschaft 7/8 (1908): 593-601; Aronow, 1985, 213-215.

81. Denys Pringle, The Churches of the Crusader Kingdom of Jerusalem. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 166-179.

82. Joshua Prawer, The Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem. European Colonialism in the Middle Ages (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1972), 324.

83. Ibid., 132.

199

84. For the use of giallo antico or Numidian marble for Roman sculpture of barbarians, see Rolf Michael Schneider, Bunte Barbaren. Orientalenstatuen aus farbigem Marmor in der römischen Repräsentationskunst (Worms: Wernersche Verlagsgesellschaft, 1986), 142, and idem, “Colored Marbles: The Splendor and Power of Imperial Rome,” Apollo 154 (July 2001): 8.

85. For the portraits by Pinturicchio, see the discussion above, pp. 84-85.

86. For Hospitaller vestments in general, see Giovanni Morello,“Note sulla croce, armature, ed ‘Abito’ dei Cavalieri di Malta,” Waffen und Kostümkunde 22 (1980): 89-105.

87. Luttrell, 1989, 8. See also G. Gerola, “Di un raro opusculo su Rhodi della Biblioteca di Trento,” Maso Finiguerra 2 (1937): 52.

88. Thornton, 233, identifies the setting of the painting as Acre.

89. See Chapter 2, pp. 86 and 91-93, for further discussion of the young Knight’s identity and the proposal that he is Luzio Aringhieri, the son of Alberto.

90. Morello, 1980, 97.

91. For perpetual prayer by donors, see Edward B. Garrison, “A New Devotional Panel Type in 14th-Century Italy,” Marsyas 3 (1943-45): 15-69.

92. See Leo Bruhns,”Das Motiv der Ewigen Anbetung in der Römischen Grabplastik des 16., 17. und 18. Jahrunderts,” Römisches Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte 4 (1940): 254-298; and Geraldine Johnson, “In the Eye of the Beholder: Donatello’s Sculpture in the Life of the Renaissance” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 1994), 84-96.

93. For the frescoes in Cascina, see Chapter 2, above, pp. 90-91.

94. For Pierre de Bosredon’s Hours of the Virgin Mary, see Pierpont Morgan Library, Glazier 55, fol. 120.

95. Poutiers, 170.

96. For the triclinum of Pope Leo III, see Krautheimer, 1980, 115-116; and Antonio Iacobini, “Il mosaico del Triclinio Lateranense,” in Fragmenta picta: affreschi e mosaici staccati del medioevo romano, ed. Maria Andaloro (Rome: Argos, 1989), 189-196.

97. Debra Pincus, The Tombs of the Doges of Venice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 78-79.

98. Jeroslav Folda, Crusader Manuscript Illumination at Saint-Jean d’Acre, 1275-1291 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1976), 90.

99. See above, 16-19.

200

100. Lusini, 256; Aronow, 296-298.

101. Gail Aronow, “A Description of the Altars in Siena Cathedral in the 1420's,” in Sienese Altarpieces 1215-1460, 2 vol., Henk von Os, (Groningen: Forsten, 1990), 2: 233; Thornton, 237.

102. Mario Buhagiar, “The Cult of St. Catherine of Alexandria in Malta,” Scientia 35 (1972): 65.

103. Ibid. Catherine often appears in the company of the Baptist in Italian Hospitaller art, as in a fourteenth-century relief plaque once affixed to the facade of the Order’s hospice of Saint Catherine in Venice. It shows a seated Madonna and Child with Catherine on the left and the Baptist presenting a kneeling Knight on the right. At Sabba da Castiglione’s commandary church of Santa Maddalena in Faenza, a similar scene was painted in 1533 by Girolomo Penacchi in the apse. For the relief plaque, see Anthony Luttrell, “The Hospitallers’ Hospice of Santa Caterina at Venice,” Studi veneziani 12 (1970): 379-380, and L. Planiscig, “Geschichte der venezianischen Skulptur in XIV Jahrhundert,” Jahrbuch der kunsthistorischen Sammlungen des allerhöchsten Kaiserhauses 33 (1916): 161-162; for the apse fresco, see E. Schermerhorn, “Notes on the Commandaries of the Grand Priory of Venice Before the Expulsion of the Sovereign Military Order of St. John of Jerusalem from Malta,” Archivium Melitense 9, no. 3 (1934): 123-125. The Grand Master’s palace is discussed by P. Lojacono, “Il Palazzo del Grand Maestro in Rodi,” Clara Rhodos 8 (1936): 289-365.

104. The relic consisted of the arm bone and hand with three fingers. See Charles Oman, “The Treasures of the Conventual Church of St. John at Malta. Part I,” The Connoisseur 173 (February 1970): 105; Buhagiar, 66; and Azzopardi, 73.

105. Hannibal P. Scicluna, The Church of St. John in Valletta (Rome: Casa M. Danesi, 1955), 95-96.

106. Buhagiar, 66; Elias Kollias, The Knights of Rhodes. The Palace and the City (Athens: Ekdotike Athenon S. A, 1991), 72, 78.

107. N. Randolph Parks, “On the Meaning of Pinturicchio’s Sala dei Santi,” Art History 2 (1979): 295-296. A similar interpretation has been offered by Parks for Pinturicchio’s Disputà, painted in the Sala dei Santi at the Vatican in the 1490s. Parks has noted that there Maxentius and his philosophers are all dressed as Mohammedan Turks, just as in Barili’s intarsia panel. This, taken together with Constantine’s triumphal arch in the background, makes reference to the assured victory of Christianity and the papacy over the Infidels, just as the first Christian Emperor had suppressed the original pagan threat.

108. Fabio Bisogni, “L’iconografia di Ansano,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 97 (1991): 97- 108. Bisogni provides a breakdown of images of Ansano by iconographical type, including variations of the saint as “cavaliere.”

109. For an interesting eighteenth-century discussion of the multiple relics of the right arm and hand of John the Baptist, see Saverio Odoardo, Dissertazione storico-critica-dogmatica sull’identità, esistenza, multiplicità, culto e miracoli della mano destra di S. Gio. Battista (Rome: Pietro Ferri, 1738).

201

110. Franco Cardini, ed. Toscana e terrasanta nel medioevo (Florence: Alinea, 1982); Anthony Luttrell, “The Hospitallers of Rhodes Between Tuscany and Jerusalem: 1310-1431,” Revue Mabillon 3 (1992): 117-138.

202

CHAPTER FIVE

EPILOGUE: THE CHAPEL OF THE BAPTIST IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY

The throngs of tourist who visit Siena Cathedral today see and experience a chapel that is much different from that conceived by and executed under the direction of Aringhieri. This, for the most part, is attributable to further decoration of the space in the early seventeenth century and an intense campaign of refurbishment undertaken in the middle of the same century as part of Pope Alexander VII’s contributions to the Cathedral of his native city. A review of these changes is vital for an accurate understanding of the chapel’s appearance in 1504. Indeed several lost elements of both the architectural façade and the interior elevation must be reconstructed from archival evidence. Consideration of these alterations not only informs us about the original disposition of the chapel, but also points to the enduring importance of this monument and its continuing role in the evolution of the Cathedral’s decoration.

Subsequent Chapel Decoration and Refurbishment

In December of 1616, the painter Vincenzo Rustici, father of the more famous Il Rustichino, was paid for repainting three of Pinturicchio’s original frescoes: the Visitation, the Baptism of Christ, and the Beheading of the Baptist (Figures 92-93).1 The chapel was further embellished at the beginning of 1617 by Cosimo Lucchi’s gilding of the wooden carvings of the interior framework.2 A new iron and brass cancellata, executed by Salustio di Francesco Barili, closed

203 the entrance from the church proper by September of that year. 3 This replaced the original

screen and was positioned differently, at the interior opening of the arch rather than at the

exterior opening, where indentations in the marble of the floor and the walls of the barrel-vaulted

passage indicate the placement of the first screen. The same artist was responsible for the grate,

decorated with San Bernardino’s famous monogram of Christ and labeled RELIQUIA

SANCTORUM, that was inserted into the top of the central niche as a receptacle for the relic

arm. 4

The most far-reaching changes to the chapel of the Baptist, however, came as part of

Pope Alexander VII’s decorative embellishment of Siena Cathedral in the early 1660s.

Alexander was born Fabio Chigi, a member of the illustrious Sienese family that included the

famous Agostino Chigi, banker to the Popes in Rome in the early sixteenth century.5 To

commemorate both his pontificate and his affection for his native Siena, the Pope planned

several major projects for the Cathedral, depending on the talents of Gianlorenzo Bernini, renowned sculptor and architect.6

A seated, marble sculpture of the Pope set in an elaborate niche was completed by

Antonio Raggi in 1663 as part of a set of four statues of Sienese pontiffs in the Cathedral that

also included Alexander III, Pius II, and Pius III.7 The statue of Alexander VII was positioned in

the south transept and next to the most important of Alexander’s projects for the Cathedral, a

chapel known variously as the Cappella delle Grazie, Cappella del Voto, or Cappella Chigi

(completed 1664) (Figure 156). 8 This circular, domed chapel was erected in the south transept

directly on axis with the similarly-shaped chapel of the Baptist. Alexander’s monument was built to house Siena’s much-venerated icon of the Virgin, the Madonna delle Grazie, thought to have been the focus of devotion on the eve of the Battle of Montaperti in 1260.9 The icon was

204 preserved in a chapel in the third bay of the south aisle until 1658 when the structure was

destroyed along with the adjacent archbishop’s palace. It appears that a chapel dedicated to Saint

Ansanus was being planned for the same spot by the Operaio of the Cathedral, but when

Alexander became involved in 1660, he decided instead to provide a lavishly decorated setting in

part designed by Bernini for the recently homeless Madonna delle Grazie.10

Alterations to the chapel of the Baptist carried out between February 1664 and summer

1665 were meant to link the monument with Alexander’s new Cappella del Voto directly across the transept, establishing the two chapels as a pair.11 Correspondence between Operaio

Lodovico de’ Vecchi and the papal court in March 1663 laid out the main agenda for the

refurbishment.12 Measured drawings of the chapel before alteration were made between March

1663 and January 1664 and sent to Rome. They provide the best documentation for the original

appearance of certain elements of the chapel’s architecture and decoration.

Of primary concern was the perceived darkness of the Baptist’s chapel, which lacked light due to the small size of its windows, a condition that was further aggravated by the naturally dark coloring of the wooden choir.13 Work began in late February 1664 to remedy this problem. The chapel’s lantern, considered too small and with narrow windows, was replaced with a larger structure with wider windows.14 At the same time, three large rectangular windows replaced the small windows that had been positioned in the pediments set above each of the three statue niches. A drawing that can be dated to March 1663 provides a view of the chapel’s interior elevation before these changes (Figure 157).15 The form of the new windows was patterned specifically after those in the Cappella del Voto. In that chapel, four large rectangular windows were positioned above the icon, above the Visitation and the Flight into Egypt (painted by Carlo Maratta in 1664), between the statue niches, and over the entryway (Figure 158).16 In

205 the Baptist’s chapel, a second fluted pilaster was added on either side of the new windows and

the projecting entablature above each original single pilaster was extended to accommodate the

addition. The level of the top cornice was heightened to coincide with new plans for the

decoration of the vault. In late February 1664, Antonio Barili’s wooden choir, including the

intarsia panels, was transferred to the Casa del Retore (home of the Operaio) until a suitable

permanent location could be found.17

In early March 1664, the trabeation between the architectural orders of the façade on the lower level was removed so that the entrance arch was completely open, allowing more light into the chapel interior and creating an entryway that more closely resembled that of the Cappella del

Voto, which also featured a single-arched opening flanked by columns on high pedestals (Figure

159).18 This action also destroyed a relief tondo on the chapel’s facade. The tondo, which is visible in a drawing made in August 1663, presented the combined coat of arms of the Opera and the Aringhieri family, and was thus a conspicuous marker of Alberto Aringhieri’s original patronage of the chapel of the Baptist (Figure 160).19

Other areas close to the chapel received attention as well, beginning with the heightening of the vault of the side aisle that abuts the chapel and the addition of a window above the façade matching the new arrangement of the corresponding area across the transept. A drawing dated to

January 1664 shows the projected changes known to have been completed by the summer of that year (Figure 161).20 The refurbishment of this area was completed by the addition of a marble frontispiece in the form of an aedicule flanked by two angels set above the upper cornice of the chapel’s facade. This included a large inscription that acknowledged both Pius II’s relic presentation and the role played by Alexander in the restoration of the chapel in 1664 (Figure

162).21

206 At the beginning of June of that same year, work began on the redecoration of the

chapel’s dome in an effort to bring it into line with the ribbed vault of the Cappella del Voto,

which was decorated with Chigi stars (Figure 158).22 Elaborate stucco ribs with vegetal motifs

were applied to the dome, and six carved putti holding papal and Chigi heraldic symbols were

positioned in the middle of each ribbed segment. A pair of larger stuccoed putti with garlands

were added above the inner entrance arch (Figure 163). Additional floral forms wrought in

stucco were inserted around the new rectangular windows and along the back of the curved

statue niches. These closely followed the original carved decoration, making it nearly impossible

to distinguish the new elements by means of visual inspection alone. From July 1664 until the

end of summer 1665 much of the new decoration was gilded, and in some cases, such as the rear

wall of the niches, painted in blue.23 At this time a gilded, wooden dove of the Holy Spirit was

affixed to the top of the interior of the lantern.24

The new treatment of the chapel’s lower zone, previously occupied by the wooden choir, was completed with the application of polychromed marble revetment.25 The transition from lower zone to upper areas was also altered with the placement of the twelve pilaster bases set directly upon the projecting cornice above the revetment. Previously, each pair of bases had rested upon a projecting cornice that was matched above by the forward movement of the entablature. As seen in a drawing of February 1664, a vegetal frieze originally ran at the level of

these projecting pilaster bases and continued along the wall beneath the frescoes and the statue

niches, but was destroyed in the alterations (Figure 81).26 Finally, the cancellata that had been installed in 1617 was replaced in 1666 by the present one, produced by Angelo Naldini.27

There have been other changes in the chapel since the seventeenth century, but none more significant than Cesare Maccari’s substitution of the Visitation fresco by

207 Rustici. This new fresco, executed in 1868, shows instead the Baptist visited in prison by his

disciples, a major alteration to the original program of the chapel’s decoration (Figure 91).28

Reconfiguring the Sacred: Pope Alexander VII’s Paired Chapels

Archival evidence points to Operaio Ludovico de’ Vecchi as the one who first suggested

to Pope Alexander VII in March of 1663 that alterations be made to the chapel of the Baptist, in

particular to remedy the problems of poor lighting and worm-eaten intarsia panels that backed

the semi-circular bench that ran around the interior. The Operaio’s initial correspondence with

the papal court sought financial support for this work.29 However, while the interest in

refurbishment seems to have had a local origin, Alexander quickly became personally involved,

ordering and funding much more extensive changes to the chapel than those originally requested.

As a native of Siena, the Pope had long cultivated an interest in the art and architecture of his

birthplace, and we can be certain that he was intimately familiar with the shrine of the Baptist in

the Cathedral. Indeed, the chapel, with a brief mention of its bronze statue, appears in a list

Alexander compiled in 1626 of major paintings, sculptures, and architecture in Siena.30

Although the publication of recent archival evidence has revealed much about the construction of the Cappella Chigi and the refurbishment of the Baptist’s chapel, there remains the question of the exact nature of Alexander’s interest in the latter and his reasons for extending the scope of his project to include the fifteenth-century chapel located across the transept. The specific physical and liturgical relationship between these two chapels has yet to be examined fully, and the possible motivations behind and implications of the renovation of the earlier shrine

by Alexander likewise have gone unexplored.31

208 The changes made to the Baptist’s chapel intentionally developed visually and physically

the relationship between the two monuments, established at the most basic level by shared

circular plans and direct axial alignment across the transept. While not identical, both facades resemble Roman honorific arches, reflected in their single, arcuated entryways flanked by columns on high pedestals that support an entablature. The articulation of the interiors display

similar architectural articulations, particularly in regards to employment of sculpture niches,

large rectangular windows, and ribbed domes. Most importantly, the central focus of each space,

the Madonna delle Grazie and the bronze Baptist was highlighted by alignment with the arched

portal in each structure and set on axis with one another.

Alexander visually declared his patronage of the Baptist’s chapel in two distinct ways.

The first involved the removal of the Aringhieri coat of arms from the facade of the chapel and

the insertion of Chigi and papal symbols in the dome and in the marble revetment of the lower

zone that replaced the wooden bench (Figure 164). The most obvious decorative element that

asserts Alexander’s personal involvement in the scheme of both chapels is the monumental

inscriptions that were mounted above each facade. The inscription above the Baptist’s chapel

has already been mentioned; the corresponding one over the entryway to the Cappella Chigi (or

del Voto) in a similar fashion acknowledged Alexander’s responsibility for that structure. Both

inscriptions were composed by the Pope himself.32

What Alexander established by erecting the Cappella del Voto and refurbishing the

Baptist’s chapel was an arrangement of paired monuments. The development and significance of paired chapels has a long and interesting history that extends beyond the relatively common practice of placing matching altars or chapels at either end of transepts or flanking high altars, as in the case of the two sacristies at San Lorenzo in Florence. Indeed, the Pope may have been

209 inspired in part by a tradition of paired chapels that showcased specific types of sacred objects,

such as relics, miraculous icons, and/or the consecrated Host.

An early example of paired chapels can be seen at the Lateran Baptistery in Rome.

Pendant chapels dedicated to Saints John the Baptist and John the Evangelist were added to the

original Constantinian structure by Pope Hilarius in the fifth century to house relics of each

saint.33 These chapels shared the same Greek cross plan and were set on an axis across the

central space of the Baptistery. Another pairing, in this case featuring an icon and relic, was

established between 1430 and 1460 in the Collegiata at Impruneta. Two nearly identical

tabernacles on either side of the nave house a miraculous painting of the Madonna and Child,

and a relic of the True Cross, respectively (Figures 165-166). 34 The link between the two shrines is further established by a similarity in their decorations, which include a glazed terracotta altarpiece in both cases. Another, more prominent example of sacred pairings could be found in Old Saint Peter’s in Rome where two comparable, Quattrocento tabernacles faced each other across the nave from their positions in opposite side aisles. These tabernacles, visible in

Grimaldi’s drawings from 1619 that reconstruct the layout of the church before demolition, housed the famous Sudarium (Veil of Veronica) on the right, and the head of Saint Andrew on

the left (Figures 167-168).35

Arguably the most important precedent for the paired scheme in Siena can be observed in two corresponding chapels in Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome.36 The famous Cappella Sistina,

commissioned by Pope Sixtus V (1585-1590) and begun in 1585, houses both a monumental

gilded bronze sacrament tabernacle and below that relics of Christ’s birth in Bethlehem,

including the Presepio or manger (Figure 169). Situated directly across the nave, the matching

Cappella Paolina was begun under Pope Paul V (1605-1621) in 1605 and featured a miraculous

210 icon of the Madonna and Child attributed to the hand of St. Luke himself (Figure 170). These

two chapels reflect the thirteenth-century placement of relics and icon in pendant tabernacles of late medieval date that were set directly across from one another and in front of the future entrances of the chapels (Figure 171).37

Ostrow has pointed out that Alexander had specific interests in the Pauline chapel and its

miraculous icon, which is mentioned in his diary in at least five entries dated between June of

1658 and August of 1664, the same period in which Bernini designed the interior decoration of

the Cappella del Voto in Siena.38 In particular, the framing elements that surround the Madonna icon in Siena closely replicate those around the icon in Santa Maria Maggiore, suggesting that the Pope himself may have wished the Sienese shrine to be patterned in part after the Pauline chapel. It seems possible then that Alexander also had in the mind the matching Sistine chapel across the nave when he turned his attention to the refurbishments of the chapel of the Baptist, providing the perfect opportunity to create a similar paired configuration highlighting similar sacred objects.

The two chapels in Siena Cathedral appear related as well in some aspects of their iconographical programs, and these reveal Alexander’s theological interests. It has long been assumed that the decoration of the Cappella del Voto stems from the historical significance of its

location as much as from the venerable icon it sheltered. Prior to construction of the chapel, a

major portal, known since 1179 as the Porta del Perdono, literally “Door of Forgiveness,” had

stood on the spot.39 According to some scholars, passage through this doorway during Jubilee

years resulted in an exceptional indulgence for the penitent paralleling the function of the holy

doors in the four patriarchal basilicas of Rome. Thus the new arched entryway to the chapel has

been regarded as the replacement for this original portal. 40 Those elements of the chapel’s

211 decoration that are not directly related to the Virgin, specifically the statues of various saints,

therefore have been related to a focus on the sacrament of penance.41 Traditional penitent

figures, including St. Jerome and Mary Magdalene are represented here in statues by Bernini, as

are the local saints Bernardino of Siena and Catherine of Siena carved by Antonio Raggi and

Ercole Ferrata respectively (Figures 172-175). Both of the latter saints were actively concerned

with the repentance of sins in general during their lifetimes.42

Van der Ploeg, however, has stressed instead the importance of the Porta del Perdono as a

busy and primary entryway into the Cathedral for pilgrims and others coming directly from the

Piazza del Campo, and Butzek has rejected the possible relation between the doorway’s name

and the granting of an indulgence, claiming rather a reference to the Cathedral’s consecration in

the portal’s name.43 Regardless of the origin of the epithet, it seems plausible that by the time the entry was demolished to make way for Alexander’s new chapel, a lack of certainty regarding the doorway’s original function or the exact circumstances surrounding its naming may not have prevented a symbolic association of the idea of Christian penitence with the new monument rising on the same spot. The inclusion of Jerome and the Magdalene in the chapel’s decorative program still points to an emphasis on penance whether or not a reference to a supposed tradition associated with the doorway was intended.

Penance was only one method of human redemption according to Catholic doctrine, the other means being the sacrament of baptism. Obviously, the program of the Baptist’s chapel revolved around this sacrament and the original moment and means of its beginnings, the baptism of Christ and the right arm and hand of the Baptist that carried out the rite. As mentioned above, a decorative iron grating was added in the seventeenth century above

Donatello’s bronze statue of the saint to hold and display the relic on special occasions. This

212 established a vertical axis of baptismal significance, starting at the top with the means of sacramental institution in the sacred past, namely the relic, moving through the image of the delivering saint, to the contemporary means of redemption at the bottom, the font with its waters capable of purging the human body of sin. Furthermore, the presence of a statue of the local saint, Ansanus, in the chapel was mirrored across the transept in the inclusion of Bernardino of

Siena and Catherine of Siena. As discussed above, Ansanus was deemed responsible for bringing Christianity to Siena in antiquity, actually baptizing the pagan Sienese before being martyred. Just as the presence of Saints Jerome, Mary Magdalene, Bernardino, and Catherine stressed penitence in the Cappella del Voto, Ansanus plays a similar role in the chapel of the

Baptist, connecting the sacrament of baptism to the city’s populace and its venerable Christian history.

The proper place of both baptism and penance was more important than ever at the time of the construction of the new chapel in Siena. In the sixteenth century, Protestants had attacked confession as unnecessary, stating that Baptism was the only true sacrament of redemption, and that its remembrance later in life allowed for continued hope of forgiveness. The Catholics countered at the Council of Trent by stressing the importance of Penance as the later reaffirmation of the purified state obtained originally through Baptism, making it clear that penance was the only means to such an end after that initial sacrament had been received.44

Thus, the emphasis on penance in the Cappella del Voto was timely and reflects Alexander’s concerns about this controversy, evidenced in his reissuing of the Council of Trent’s declarations on the matter in a papal bull of 1667 just before his death.45 While the decision to focus on

Penance in the chapel, in addition to the image of the Virgin, may have been based on the relation of the monument to the original Porta del Perdono, we cannot dismiss the possibility that

213 the program also intentionally responded to the already established celebration of baptism in the

matching chapel across the transept. The end result is a pair of chapels that reinforce the

importance of both baptism and penance, connected physically by alignment and by similar

decorative and iconographical details. A kind of redemptive cross axis was therefore established

in the transepts of the Cathedral that intersected with the main liturgical axis leading from the

entrance along the nave to the high altar (Figure 176). In one case, the sacraments of baptism

and penance are evoked, twin means for redemption on earth, in the other, the path to ultimate

forgiveness is provided by the Host and the ritual of Mass.

The intercessory role of the Virgin and John the Baptist in obtaining redemption can also

be read in the layout of paired chapels and high altar in the Cathedral. A traditional visual type

known as the Deisis depicted Christ surrounded by saints who acted as intercessors and argued

for the salvation of mankind. This is particularly the case with images of the Last Judgment,

where Christ is often flanked by the Virgin and the Baptist, the most important of man’s spiritual

advocates. This formula developed in the early Middle Ages and continued to be popular

through the medieval period, as evidenced by the twelfth-century mosaic of the Last Judgment

on the west wall of the Cathedral at Torcello. The deployment in the transepts of Siena

Cathedral of two shrines dedicated to the holy figures most vital for man’s salvation at the time of the Second Coming can be interpreted as reflective of the intercessory role of the Virgin and the Baptist. If Vecchietta’s sacrament tabernacle on the high altar is read as symbolic of the presence of Christ, appropriate since these tabernacles traditionally housed the consecrated Host, then the Deisis formula is complete. Christ, embodied on the high altar by the tabernacle and the

Host, is literally flanked by the Virgin, present in her miraculous icon in the Cappella del Voto,

and John the Baptist, whose remains were connected to the chapel of the Baptist. The

214 arrangement of chapel and high altar, thus, stresses the importance of the Virgin and Baptist in

reaching the final stage of redemption, salvation at the Last Judgment.

Furthermore, the paired chapels underscore the genealogical relationships between the

Virgin, the Baptist, and Christ. John the Baptist’s mother Elizabeth was a cousin of the Virgin,

making the Precursor and Christ cousins as well. The chapels feature images of the Virgin and

the Baptist respectively aligned on a direct axis and in both cases framed by an arched portal.

The most important link between the two is Christ, represented on the high altar in the Host

during Mass. The significance of the Baptist, and thus the Baptist’s chapel with its associated

relic, is elevated by this emphasis on a sacred familial connection. Not only is John important because he baptized Christ and helped institute the sacrament of baptism, but also because he is tied to Christ by bloodline. The visual pairing of the Baptist and Virgin, enabled by the addition of the Cappella del Voto to the Cathedral, makes clear and tangible this relationship.

Pope Alexander VII, the Knights of Malta, and the Chapel of the Baptist

There are other equally unrecognized factors that may have made the Baptist’s chapel

particularly significant for the pope and that relate to his passion for his family’s history. This

interest is evidenced early on by the Chigiae Familiae Commentarii, a history of the Chigi which

Alexander, as Fabio Chigi, began writing in 1618, long before his ascension to the throne of

Peter.46 As Cardinal, he sponsored renovations of two major family chapels in Rome, one in

Santa Maria della Pace and the other in Santa Maria del Popolo, both of which had been

commissioned from Raphael at the beginning of the sixteenth century by his ancestor, the banker

and maecenas Agostino Chigi.47

215 Alexander’s establishment of paired chapels in Siena Cathedral echoes the specific

actions of an illustrious relative, Pope Paul V. Paul was also of Sienese origin and was related to

Alexander through his paternal grandmother.48 Freiberg has demonstrated how Alexander

attempted to identified himself with the earlier Pope by focusing attention on many of Paul’s

major projects in Rome.49 In building the Cappella Paolina in Santa Maria Maggiore, Paul completed Pope Sixtus V’s vision of a pendant monument for the Cappella Sistina. Like his

papal relative, Alexander completed a pair of shrines in Siena Cathedral by erecting the Cappella

del Voto. The creation of paired chapels in Siena Cathedral thus afforded Alexander yet another

opportunity to promote his relation to Pope Paul V in their native Siena rather than in Rome.

Another significant motivating factor is provided by the association of the Baptist’s

chapel with the Knights of Malta. The Knights of Malta, known as such after the Knights

Hospitallers were forced off Rhodes in 1523 by the Turks and subsequently relocated to Malta in

1527, also would have held a special place in Alexander’s heart since his family had been

involved with the organization for over one hundred years. Before becoming Pope Alexander

VII, Fabio Chigi had served from 1634-1639 as apostolic legate on the island of Malta, mediating relations between the Papacy and the Order of Saint John of Jerusalem. 50 In this capacity, he became involved in the affairs of the Order and would have been well versed in the

Order’s history and devotional practices. The first of the Chigi to join the ranks of the Knights, a certain Camillo Chigi, was inducted in 1528 and named commander in Fano in 1550.51 Members of the Chigi family subsequently held membership in the organization, among them Cristofano di

Scipione, commander in Fano from 1567, Girolamo di Augusto, who joined the Knights in 1567,

Orazio di Camillo, commander at Imola, and Carlo di Jacomo, the third Chigi Knight assigned to

Fano.52 Furthermore, during his stay on Malta, Fabio was in the company of his nephew,

216 Giovanni Bicchi, he too a member of the Order.53 The convergence of family interests and a

developed fondness for the Order was manifested by Alexander in his appointment of two thirds

of the Order’s commandary at Fano to his nephew Knight Carlo Chigi, nomination of Cardinal

Flavio Chigi to commander of Bologna, and installation of Sigismondo Chigi with the

Hospitallers’ priorate in Rome.54 The Pope’s beneficence also extended to renovations of several

buildings of the Order on the island of Malta, paid for with monies from the papal coffers.55

The primary mission of the Knights of Malta, the defeat of the Infidel and protection against their expansion, may have further motivated Alexander’s interest in the chapel of the

Baptist. One of the most important and problematic issues of his reign was the danger of Turkish invasion of Christian territories, particularly the Danube region that was seriously threatened in the early 1660s.56 Alexander constantly called on European powers to address the crisis and he attempted unsuccessfully to form an alliance of leaders from across the continent to aggressively engage this enemy.57 These actions recall similar efforts on the part of another Sienese pope,

Pius II, who tried but failed to rally support for new crusades against the Turks at the congress he called in Mantua in 1464.58 Pope Pius II’s use of prominent relics to inspire the faithful to take up arms and the connection of the Baptist’s relic in Siena to the Knights’ constant fight with the

Turks has been discussed above. It is significant that the inscription added by Alexander above the façade of the chapel makes a clear link between the relic of the Baptist, Pius II as the one responsible for the chapel, and Alexander as its restorer.59 Furthermore, the date of the inscription, 1664, in a sense commemorates the presentation of the Baptist’s relic to Siena by the

Piccolomini pope exactly 200 years before in 1464. Clearly, Alexander identified himself with

Pius II through the inscription and by the act of restoring the chapel, both of which therefore associated him with the relic.60 The pope’s interest in the chapel of the Baptist thus can viewed

217 as reflective of his support of the primary mission of the Knights of Malta and his continuation of the tradition of crusading policy established earlier by Pope Pius II.

In focusing attention on the chapel of the Baptist, Alexander expressed his fondness for the Knights of Malta as well as pride in his family’s involvement in the Order. Through the means of the inserted heraldic symbols and façade inscription, he appropriated and transformed the monument into a second shrine matching the Cappella del Voto with a special tie to the Chigi family established by its knightly content. It should be noted that Ludovico de’ Vecchi, the

Operaio who first suggested the refurbishment of the Baptist’s chapel, was the brother of a

Knight of Malta, providing personal motivations for his proposal and, with knowledge of the

Pope’s interest in the Knights, some probability of success for his endeavor.61

Interestingly, the three main sacred objects rescued from Rhodes and taken to Malta by the Knights when their headquarters was seized by the Turks in 1523 was a miraculous icon, the

Madonna di Philermo; a fragment of the True Cross; and the right arm and hand of the Baptist.62

With the completion of the Cappella del Voto, one could have seen both a miraculous icon, as well as the right, baptizing arm and hand of the Baptist. Considered together with another relic of the True Cross held in the Cathedral, there was assembled in Siena the same sacred objects that were at the heart of the devotion of the Knights in their cathedral at Valletta and which would have been well known to Alexander from his days spent on Malta.63 It is unclear exactly how much significance can be given to the fact that similar sacred objects were held in both locations, but it is true that the arrangement of the twin chapels in Siena for the first time focused attention on the icon and arm relic as a pair in that city.

The importance of this fact for the Knights of Malta and thus for Alexander would have been clear as the Baptist and the Virgin were the two most prominent holy figures in Hospitaller

218 devotion. Furthermore, the pairing of the icon and relic would have underscored the importance

of the Virgin for the Knights on the feast of the Assumption on 15 August when the devotion of

all the people of Siena was focused on the Cappella del Voto and the miraculous image housed there. The role of the Virgin in the Hospitallers’ capture of Rhodes on this feast day would have been recalled by those close to the Order, including Alexander, while the axial alignment of the chapel (and the icon and relic when the latter was on view behind the iron grate above the bronze Baptist) would have affirmed this connection on that special day and throughout the year.

Evidence has been presented here for a consideration of both the Cappella del Voto and the Baptist chapel as a pair, the result of Pope Alexander VII's approval and funding of and personal participation in the refurbishment of the latter. The relationship between the two chapels was achieved by shared physical, decorative, and iconographic aspects, and the connection of the older shrine to matters close to the family history of the pontiff may have prompted him to appropriate that chapel, effectively creating two Chigi memorials in the

Cathedral.

One last argument for the validity of this reading can been made by considering Giuseppe and Bartolommeo Mazzuoli’s cenotaph of Marcantonio Zondadari, which was completed in

1726 and positioned just outside the entryway to the Baptist’s chapel (Figure 177).64 Zondadari had been not only a Knight of Malta, but also had held the Order’s highest governing office, that of Grand Master, from 1720 until his death in 1722.65 Thus, the rational behind the placement of his monument next to a devotional center of importance for the Knights in Siena is clear. Indeed the yellow color of the giallo senese marble that encircles this sculpture intentionally echoes the columns of the same material on the chapel’s façade. What is most telling, however, is the fact that this Grand Master was also the nephew of Pope Alexander VII, and rather than locating his

219 marker in the proximity of the Cappella del Voto in the south transept, it was positioned next to the Baptist’s chapel. 66 This placement can be explained with respect to the knightly commemoration that formed such an important aspect of the Baptist’s chapel and by the assimilation of that chapel to the Cappella del Voto.

220

1. Landi, 111; Lusini, 1939, 2: 133. Lusini assigns this work to Rustichino, rather than his father. See AOMS 727, 329l for the documentation quoted in Landi.

2. Landi, 110; See AOMS 727, 329l for Cosimo Luchi’s gilding.

3. Landi, 87, 110, points out that the positioning of this new gate was imprudent, as it caused damage to Aringhieri’s dedicatory floor inscription. See AOMS, Bid. D., 176, fol. 588r. for documentation quoted in Landi.

4. Landi, 110.

5. For the Chigi family in general, see Bernardina Sani, “Cultura figurative nella società senese del primo Seicento,” in Alessandro Angelini, Monika Butzek, and Bernardina Sani, ed., Alessandro VII Chigi (1599-1667). Il Papa senese di Roma moderna (Siena: Protagon Editori Toscani), 40-47. For Agostino Chigi, see Ingrid Rowland, “Render Unto Caesar the Things Which Are Caesar’s: Humanism and the Arts in the Patronage of Agostino Chigi,” Renaissance Quarterly 39 (1986): 673-730.

6. For Alexander VII and Bernini, see Alessandro Angelini, Gian Lorenzo Bernini e i Chigi: tra Roma e Siena (Siena: Banca monte dei paschi di Siena, 1998).

7. For the series of Papal statues in Siena Cathedral, see Monika Butzek “Die Papstmonument im Dom von Siena.” Miteillungen des Kunsthistorischen Instituts in Florenz 24 (1980): 15-78, and “I quattro monumenti ai papi senesi nel transetto del duomo di Siena,” in Angelini, Butzek, and Sani, 400-408.

8. For a concise overview of the construction and decoration of the Cappella del Voto, see Butzek, 1996, 31-38. Despite its papal patronage and because of the direct involvement of Bernini in the design of its decoration if not the architecture (usually attributed to Benedetto Giovannelli Orlandi), this chapel has traditionally been considered a minor work in the scholarship on this artist and thus has never received the attention it deserves as a complex monument in a Sienese context. Beyond Butzek’s recent and invaluable archival work, the most important sources are: Christina Acidini Luchinat, “Alessandro VII, il Bernini e la Cappella del Voto nel Duomo di Siena,” in G. Spagnesi and M. Fagiolo, ed., Gian Lorenzo Bernini Architetto e l’architettura europa del Sei-Settecento (Rome: Instituto della Enciclopedia Italiana, 1984), 389-410; Gioia Romagnoli, “Nuovi documenti sulla costruzione della Cappella del Voto nel Duomo di Siena,” Paragone 38 (November 1987): 85-98; and Franco Borsi, Bernini (Milan: Rizzoli, 1984), 328-332.

9. For the Madonna delle Grazie, see Norman, 31-31.

10. Butzek, 1996, 31-38.

11. For an overview of Alexander’s refurbishment of the chapel of the Baptist, see Butzek, 1996, 47-52.

221

12. Ibid., 156-158.

13. Ibid., 48.

14. Ibid.

15 Ibid., 49. For the drawing (BAV, Chigi G.II.48, fol. 248), see Butzek, 1996, 292, fig. 77.

16. Ibid., 38. These paintings were completed in Rome, shipped to Siena, and installed in the chapel in August 1664. The Flight into Egypt was replaced with a mosaic in the following century apparently due to degradation of the original painting. See Butzek, 1996, 38-39.

17. Ibid., 49-50; Landi, 110-11.

18. Butzek, 1996, 48.

19. Ibid. See above, Chapter 2 for a reconstruction of this tondo. For the drawing (BAV, Chigi G.II.48, fol. 95r.), see Butzek, 1996, 292-293, fig. 78.

20. Ibid., 48, 50. Stars were painted on a blue field in the newly raised vault in front of the chapel, and the Papal stemma was added at its center, corresponding to that in the vault before the Cappella del Voto across the transept. For the drawing (BAV, Chigi G.II.48, fol. 247), see Butzek, 1996, 294, fig. 79.

21. Ibid., 50, 182; Landi, 109. The inscription reads as follows: DEXTERO D. BAPTISTE BRACHIO / PII II M. DONO ERECTUM SACELLVM / ALEX. VII P. M. INSTAUR. ORNAVITQ. / ANNO SALUTIS M.DC.LXIV.

22. Ibid., 48; Borsi, 331.

23. Ibid., 50.

24. Ibid.

25. Ibid.

26. For the drawing (BAV, Chigi G.II.48, fol. 202v.), see Butzek, 1996, 304-305, figure 91a.

27. Landi, 110.

28. Landi, 112; Lusini, 1939, 2: 133.

29. Butzek, 1996, 47-48.

222

30. Pèleo Bacci, “L’Elenco delle pitture, sculture e architettura di Siena compilato nel 1625-26 da Mons. Fabio Chigi poi Alessandro VII secondo il Ms. Chigiano I-I-11,” Bullettino senese di storia patria 45 (1939): 315.

31. Acidini Luchinat, 394-395. Acidini Luchinat’s appraisal of the relationship between the two chapels does acknowledge in a broad way the basic similarities between their plans and architecture. Her consideration of the meaning of the correspondence is limited, however, to a brief discussion of the possibility that the Cappella del Voto was originally intended to be dedicated to Saint Ansanus, based on an earlier plan for the chapel, implying the intention to create “una sorta di simmetria storica e devozionale tra i luoghi di culto nella cattedrale.” While she claims that the original idea to dedicate the chapel to Ansanus came from the pope, in fact, as Butzek, 1996, 31, n. 40, has argued, it seems that this idea was of local origin, overruled by Alexander in favor of the Virgin.

32. Butzek, 1996, 50. The inscription reads as follows: DEI MATRI BEATAE MARIAE / VIRGINI IMMACVLATAE / ALEXANDER VII . PONT. MAX. / ANNO . D. M.DC.LXI. For the drawing (BAV, Chigi G.II.48, fols. 257v-258.), see Butzek, 1996, 300, figure 86.

33. For the chapels at the Lateran Baptistery, see above, Chapter 1.

34. John Pope-Hennessy, Luca della Robia (Oxford: Phaidon Press, 1980), 245-246. The exact dating, authorship, and patronage of the tabernacles and their enameled terracotta altarpieces have proved problematic due to a lack of archival evidence. Michelozzo and/or his workshop has been connected to the tabernacles, while the Della Robbia family is mentioned in relation to the altarpieces. Proposed dates for these two ensembles range from the 1430s to the 1460s, in most cases based upon stylistic considerations.

35. Giacomo Grimaldi, Descrizione della basilica antica di S. Pietro in Vaticano: Codice Barbarini latino 2733, ed. Reto Niggl (Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1972), 86- 87, 92-93.

36. For these two chapels, see Steven F. Ostrow, Art and Spirituality in Counter-Reformtion Rome. The Sistine and Pauline Chapels in S. Maria Maggiore (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996).

37. Ostrow, 253-254.

38. Ibid., 181-183.

39. For the Porta del Perdono, see W. Braunfels, Mittelalterliche Stadtbaukunst in der Toskana (Berlin: Gebr. Mann, 1979), 163; Butzek, 1980, 20-22; and Norman, 31.

40. Cust, 83; I. Lavin, ed. Drawings by Gianlorenzo Bernini From the Museum der Bildenden Kunste (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981), 234, n. 3. Cust, citing an early seventeenth-century manuscript in Rome, appears to be the modern source for this idea, repeated often and as fact in much of the subsequent scholarly literature.

223 41. Lavin, 229.

42. For Bernini’s statues, which arrived in Siena from Rome at the beginning of August 1663, see John Pope-Hennessy, High Renaissance and Baroque Sculpture (Oxford: Phaidon, 1986), 248-249.

43. KeesVan der Ploeg, Art, Architecture, and Liturgy. Siena Cathedral in the Middle Ages (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1993), 86, 87-88; Butzek, 2000, 412, n. 12.

44. Lavin, 233.

45. Ibid., 236, n. 20. Alexander issued the bull entitled De contritione perfecta et imperfecta on 5 May 1667.

46. Bernardina Sani, “Cultura figurative nella società senese del primo Seicento,” in A. Angelini, M. Butzek, and B. Sani, 41.

47. For the Chigi chapels in Rome, see John Shearman, “The Chigi Chapel in Santa Maria del Popolo,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 23 (1961): 129-155; Michael Hirst, “The Chigi Chapel in Santa Maria Della Pace,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 23 (1961): 165-185; and Jones and Penny, 100-111.

48. Jack Freiberg, “Paul V, Alexander VII, and a Fountain by Nicolo Cordier Rediscovered,” Burlington Magazine 133 (December 1991): 843.

49. Ibid., 841-843.

50. For Fabio Chigi’s involvement with the Knights on Malta, see Vincent Borg, Fabio Chigi, Apostolic Delegate in Malta (1634-1639). An Edition of His Official Correspondence (Vatican City: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, 1967).

51. Ugurgieri-Azzolini, 2: 288; Gigli, 1: 109-110. Camillo also acted as Sienese ambassador to Emperor Charles V.

52. Gigli, 2: 110. For a list of Chigi Knights of Malta through the early eighteenth century, see Francesco Bonazzi, Elenco dei cavalieri del S. M. Ordine di. S. Giovanni di Gerusalemme ricevuti nella veneranda lingua d’ Italia dalla fondazione dell ‘Ordine ai nostri giorni, 2 vols. (Bologna: Forni, 1907), 1: 83.

53. Borg, 16.

54. Borg, 1967, 113-114.

55. Ibid., 111-112.

224

56. Torgil Magnuson, Rome in the Age of Bernini, 2 vols. (Stockholm: Almquist and Wiskell), 2:134-136.

57. Ibid.

58. Setton, 2:138-145.

59. See note 21 above for the inscription.

60. Alexander could also claim a remote family connection to the relic as his relative Antonio Bichi, charged with command of the papal galleys in fighting the Turks, was a distant relation to the Antonio Bichi who was directed in 1464 to collect information in the East to help authenticate the Baptist’s arm. See Magnuson, 2:135.

61. Butzek, 1996, 61. The Knight Lorenzo De Vecchi succeeded his brother as Operaio of Siena Cathedral in 1670.

62. Borg, 1983, 253.

63. For the True Cross relic, see Lusini, 1: 232. This relic was housed in a cabinet, originally located in the Cathedral sacristy, painted by Benedetto di Bindo between 1411 and 1417. It is now in the Museo del’ Opera del Duomo.

64. Torriti, 110.

65. For Zondadari’s biography, see Ugo Fritelli, Albergo genealogico della nobil famiglia Chigi (Siena: Arti Grafiche Lazzeri, 1922), 156-159.

66. The monument in Siena Cathedral contains just Zondadari’s heart. The rest of his body is interred in a marble and bronze sepulcher in the nave of the Knight’s Church of Saint John in Valletta. For the tomb on Malta, see Hannibal Scicluna, The Church of St. John in Valletta (Rome: Casa M. Danesi, 1955), 176-77.

225 CONCLUSION

The chapel of the Baptist’s primary function as a reliquary shrine, or martyrium, for the

arm and hand of the Precursor is reflected in its centralized plan and domed interior space,

architectural characteristics that link the monument to early Christian prototypes. The sepulchral

connotations of the chapel’s all’antica decoration, particularly on the entrance façade, also point

to an implied function of the chapel as a backdrop for Aringhieri’s tomb, located before the

entryway to the monument. The marble font in the center of the chapel appears to have been

used for blessing holy water and is related symbolically to the sacrament of baptism through the

reliefs on the side of the basin that depict the Fall of man and the struggle for salvation. The

chapel’s decorative program is structured by means of an architectural framework incorporating

paintings, sculptures, and intarsia. These components are integrated in a coherent system that

also allows for the dynamic interaction of certain elements. This scheme draws on traditional

models, such as large multi-media altarpieces and saint’s shrines. In the case of the Baptist’s

chapel, similar forms were applied to the walls of the circular structure in a way that was unique

in late Quattrocento Siena. While the basic form of the chapel, consisting of a circular plan with

dome, recalls well-known precedents, including the Pantheon, the smaller scale of the

monuments appears unprecedented at the time of its construction.

For Aringhieri, the chapel provided an opportunity to continue a long-established tradition of commemoration on the part of his family that had begun in the fourteenth century in

Casole d’Esla and continued in Siena in the following century. The fact that the noble

226 Aringhieri were relative newcomers to the city may have provided special motivation for the

Operaio’s decision to erect a new memorial, a chapel in the Cathedral, rather than focus

patronage on the family’s traditional burial site at San Domenico. The prestigious location of the

chapel highlighted both Aringhieri’s important position as Operaio and, in a larger sense, the

prominent role that his family had assumed in Sienese affairs since immigrating in the early

Quattrocento. The new identification of the young Knight in Pinturicchio’s chapel portrait as

Luzio Aringhieri, Alberto’s son, reveals the dynastic importance the monument held for the

family by definitively establishing the chapel as the new locus for Aringhieri commemoration in

Siena. The inclusion of such personal imagery as portraiture in the Cathedral’s decoration marks

a turning point in the privatization of public space in Siena. Family commemoration in the

chapel thus initiated a new stage in Sienese patronage, one that stressed the importance of the

individual over that of the Sienese commune, particularly evident in the early sixteenth-century

commissions of the despot Pandolfo Petrucci.

The strong civic and religious traditions of Siena and the important role afforded art and architecture in expressing and maintaining these traditions requires that the Baptist’s chapel be evaluated in terms of its significance for the city. The location of the chapel is again crucial in this respect as the Cathedral was considered the civic and religious heart of the city, the place

that best represents Siena’s fusion of the secular and the religious spheres. In refuting Florentine

claims of their lack of an ancient heritage, the Sienese employed not only humanists to codify the

city’s foundation myths, but enlisted the visual arts to provide physical proof and tangible

reminders of Siena’s venerable heritage of the city. The all’antica façade of the chapel, with its

arched form, colored columns, and sculpted pedestals that were likely viewed as ancient Roman

spolia, participates in this defense by evoking the ancient splendor of Roman Siena. The

227 chapel’s façade, looking to Siena’s Roman past, literally gives way to a reaffirmation of the

city’s place in the history of early Christianity as well. This is established first in the form of

Donatello’s bronze statue of the Baptist, the centerpiece of the chapel’s decoration, which recalls

directly the role of this important saint in establishing, along with Christ, the sacramental rites

that first defined the Christian community. The presence in the chapel of the right, baptizing arm

and hand of the saint provides concrete proof of the sacred connection of the city to the very

beginnings of the Church. The Cathedral’s possession of a similar arm of Saint Ansanus is

underscored by his appearance in the chapel, depicted in a marble statue and in one of the the

intarsia panels. In both cases he is presented in a new iconographical mode that stressed his role

as the “Sienese Baptist”, the one who brought Christianity to the city. The typological

association between Saints John and Ansanus developed in the chapel promotes the place of

Siena among the earliest of Christian communities in the face of Florentine efforts to malign the

Sienese, by refuting the idea that they possessed a venerable history equal to that of Florence

itself.

The turbulent political history of Sienese - Florentine relations provides the context for understanding the significance of Donatello’s bronze statue of the Baptist long after its original moment of creation. For the local citizenry, the possession of a valuable Baptist relic and the erection of a sumptuous new shrine in the Cathedral for its display would have brought to mind those relatively few moments in the city’s history in which the Sienese triumphed over Florence, particularly the great victory at the Battle of Montaperti in 1260. The use of an image that by its subject, the saintly Florentine patron and protector, as well as by the artist responsible for its creation, Donatello, who had served the Sienese state and was even offered citizenship, would have further emphasized Sienese supremacy. For Alberto Aringhieri and the ruling elite of

228 Siena, however, strong ties to the Medici and the Florentine government may have determined

for that particular audience a decisively pro-Florentine interpretation of the. By situating the

chapel and its decoration within the complex and constantly shifting politics of late Quattrocento

Siena, the propagandistic value of the statue becomes evident.

The chapel’s prominent promotion of the cult of the Baptist made the monument an

important center of devotion for the local Knights Hospitallers of Rhodes, drawn to a relic of

their patron saint. Aringhieri’s membership in this military organization insured that the chapel’s

decoration would, on one level, address specific concerns of the Order of Saint John. The

Knights’ original mission as protectors of pilgrims and sacred sites and objects in the Holy Land

is recalled in the Sienese chapel by the two painted portraits of Alberto and his son Luzio that

flank the entrance on the interior. Alberto wears knightly robes, Luzio the armor of an active

military figure. Both kneel in prayer, venerating their holy patron and watching eternally over the

arm relic. The fact that the Sienese relic of the Baptist was enshrined by a local Knight was made all the more significant when in 1484 the Hospitallers received a similar relic that was displayed in the Grand Master’s chapel on Rhodes. The Baptist’s chapel in Siena can be viewed

an important link to the Order’s mission and devotional practices for those local Knights who

were far from the organization’s Aegean headquarters. By including in the chapel’s decoration

the knightly portraits as well as the statue of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, who was the patron

saint of the Italian Hospitallers, Aringhieri expanded the message carried by the ensemble to one

that embraced this international organization and its history and aims.

The chapel of the Baptist, through its plan, scale, and integrated multi-media decoration,

may have inspired the next generation of decorated chapels, such as Raphael’s Cappella Chigi in

Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome, and ultimately the unified visual programs of the Baroque.

229 Indeed, the potency of the chapel’s meaning as a monument that addressed personal, civic, and international concerns continued into the seventeenth century. The refurbishment of the chapel, commissioned by the Sienese-born Pope Alexander VII and carried out between 1664 and 1665, was undertaken to transform the monument into a pendant to the pope’s new Cappella del Voto, built directly across the transept to house the city’s most venerated image of the Virgin.

Alexander’s interest in the chapel was motivated in part by an intense interest in his Chigi family history and the fact that there were several Knights of Rhodes among his ancestors. The renovation of the chapel also afforded the pontiff the opportunity to complete a pair of chapels highlighting a relic and miraculous icon, much like his relative Pope Paul V had done some years earlier in erecting the Cappella Paolina in Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome opposite the chapel of

Sixtus V. In general, Alexander’s paired chapels in Siena point to the enduring validity and significance of the meaning of Alberto Aringhieri’s original monument in Siena cathedral.

230 APPENDIX A

Documents concerning the construction and decoration of the chapel of the Baptist

1. 14 April 1482 AODS 717 (Entra. E Usc.), 363 left (Lusini, 2: 123, n. 2)

A m. Giovanni di M. Stefano, a di xiiii d’aprile l. trenta s. 0, conti a lui per fare le spese a’ lui e a Francesco da Niccolaio quando si mandorno a Charara per far condurre e’ marmi per la capella di S. Giovanni.

2. 29 April 1482 AODS 451 (Entr. e. Usc.), 166r. (Lusini, 2: 123, n. 2 with incorrect page number)

Antonio di Nardo da Carrara adí detto (29 aprile) ducati cinquanta d’oro larghi e per lui a rede d’Ambruogio Spannocchi e chompagni di Siena per parte di marmi charraresi ei die condurre o far condurre a focie di Grosetto.

3. 12 September 1482 AODS 717 (Deb. e Credit.), 377 right (Lusini, 2: 123-24, n. 2)

Bastiano di Masso da Carrara chavatore di marmo de’avere, a dí xii di settembre, l. ventisette s.-- sonno per una colonna br. iiii longha e grossa due terzi di marmo giallo, l. xvi s. --- e per uno mezo ghuscio di tabernacolo di marmo giallo per l. sei s. ---, sonno d’ acchordo per detto dí misser nostro per la capella di San Giovanni in duomo.

4. 16 January 1483 (Milanesi, 2: 398; Lusini, 2: 129-30, n. 2)

Anno Domini MCCCCLXXXII. Indit: XI, die 16 Januarii Johannes Andree factor Opere, nomine domini Operarii dicte Opere et tamquam procurator ipsius ex una; et Magister Anontius Nerii Barilis, ex altera, devenerunt ad

231

hanc conventionem et pactionem et concordiam super laborerio chori capelle que de nuovo edificatur in Ecclesia cathedrali senen: sub vicabulo et nomine sancti Johannis Baptiste. Quod dictus magister Antonius teneatur et debeat dictum chorum fecisse perfectum et secondum modellum et disignum factum, in tempore duorum annorum proxime futurorum, incoatorum in kalendis presentis mensis. Item; quod Operarius dicte Opere et Camerarius ipsius pro expensis hactenus factis in dicto choro debeat dare et solvere dicto magistro Antonio flor : quinquaginta de lib : IIII pro flo : ultra id quod jam fuit sibi solutum ex dicta causa. Item; quod ultra dictos quinquaginta flor : dictus magister Anotnius debeat habere a Camerario Opere pro suplendis expensis dicti chori, et ut possit continue laborare, singulo mense florenos decem de libris IIII pro flor : incoando primum mensem in kalendis Maii proximi. Item; quod dictus magister Antonius teneatur et debeat dictum fecisse et posuisse in dicto tempore duorum annorum : et si non perfecerit et posuerit in dicto termino, incidat in penam flor : centum auri solvendos per eum dicte Opere pro interesse ipsius Opere; salvo tamen impedimento infirmitatis, pestis, etc. Item; quod finito et posito dicto choro, dictum laborerium debeat extimari et pretium ipsius extimari per duos magistros peritos in arte et secondum eorum sit pretium et merces talis laborerii; eligendos a qualibat parte unum : et si non essent concordes, eligatur tertius de comuni concordia partium. Que omnia dicte partes nominibus promiserunt ad invicem observare etc., sub pena c. fior: quam penam etc. et dicta pena etc. obligantes etc. rog : juran : etc. cum guar : etc. Actum Senis in curia Mercantie, coram Ser Gregorio Francisci notario et Nicholao Francisci de Cinutiis de Senis, testibus.

5. 25 January 1484 AODS 453 (Entr. e Usc.), 54v. (Lusini, 2: 123, n. 2, with incorrect year)

M. Bastiano di Francesco scarpellino e Francesco a di 25 di gennaio 1. ventiquattro, s. 0. sonno per parte di loro servito della sepoltura rimuovono del cardinale Riciardo.

6. 13 March 1484 AODS 453 (Entra. e Usc.), 55v. (Lusini, 2: 123, n. 2, with incorrect year)

M. Bastiano di Francesco scarpellino e Francesco a dí detto 1. ventiquattro s. 0, chonti a Bastiano, sonno per parte di loro servito di rimuovere le sepoltura del cardinale Riciardo.

232

7. 27 March 1484 AODS 453 (Entra. e Usc.), 56r. (Lusini, 2: 123, n. 2, with incorrect year)

Bastiano di Francesco scarpellino a di 27 di marzo l. ventiquattro s. 0, sonno per resto di avere rimossa e rimurata la sepoltura del cardinale Riciardi in duomo.

8. 12 January 1485 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 107 right (Aronow, 1985, 475, document 170)

E die avere adì detto l. settantadue s. ---, sonno per avere levata e rimurata la sepoltura del Cardinale Ricciardo Petroni da la faccia rinpetto ala Porta del Perdono et murata dal lato come sucedè, e per detto di messer nostro.

9. 4 April 1485 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 159 right (Lusini, 2: 126, n. 1, with errors corrected in Aronow, 1985, 298, n. 12)

M. Matteo di Simone da Val d’Lughano... e die avere per insino adì 4 d’april 1486 l. vinti s.---, sonno per opere di detto maestro Matteio, e opare cinquantacinque di gharzoni à date a ghustare el muro per la porta della chapella di Santo Giovanni da dì XXIIII di gennaio.

10. 17 April 1486 AODS 455 (Entr. e Uscit.), 40v. (Lusini, 2: 127, n. 1)

Le spese de lo spaze di Santo Giovanni l. dodici s. uno. Le spese de la cupola di santo Giovanni 1. una s. dieci.

11. 6 May 1486 AODS, 455, 68v. (Lusini, 2: 127, n. 1)

Le spese de lo spazo di Santo Giovanni devo dare, a dí 6 di magio, l. due s. uno, sonno per quattro opare di manovale.

233

12. 12 May 1486 AODS 455, 36r. (Lusini, 2: 124, n. 2 with incorrect day)

M. Matteo di Simone a dí 12 di Magio l. trenta s. 0. li demo contiati in sua mano per parte d’opere ane murato la capella di San Giovanni.

13. 2 June 1486 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 159 right (Lusini, 2: 126, n. 1, with errors corrected in Aronow, 1985, 298, n. 12)

M. Matteo di Simone da Val d’Lughano… e die evere ancora per insino adì II di giugnio l. trentadue s. quattro, e quali sonno per opere ventitre di maestro e gharzone à date a murare la chapella detta, da dì III di magio per insino adì detto.

14. 17 July 1487 AODS 29.E.8.C, 16 (Milanesi, 2: 415; Lusini, 2: 129, n.1 with incorrect year; Coor, 150-51)

Anno Domini MCCCCLXXXVII, Indictione v, die xvii Julii. Johannes olim Andree de Senis factor -- Opere -- asserens se habere mandatum a -- operario -- locavit Neroccio Bartolomei Neroccij pictori et sculptori de Senis ad faciendum unam statuam, seu sculturam sancte Caterine martiris de marmore carrarese, dando -- per dictum operarium dicto Neroccio, ponendam et locandam in capella sancti Joannis Baptiste, que de novo edificatur in dicta Ecclesia cathedrali, ad mensuram conferentem cuidam statue sancti Ansani existente in dicta opera sculpte per Johannem magistri Stefani de Senis. Quam statuam teneatur et debeat facere in perfectione, secundum qualitatem dicte figure sancti Ansani aut melius -- et illam dare finitam et perfectam, cum capella predicta fuerit finita, et eo tempore quo dictus Operarius volet illam locare in dicta cappella. -- Et hoc facere -- pro pretio flor : octuaginta -- etc. -- Actum im domo Opere.

15. 5 February 1488 AODS 718, 242 right (Milanesi, 2: 415; Coor, 151)

Neroccio di Bartolommeo di Benedetto, dipentore, di dare a di 5 di Ferraio l. quaranta s. --- chontati allui e quali si li prestano da schontarsi nella fattura della fighura fa di marmo di Santa Caterina martire per la chapella di S. Giovanni.

234

16. 2 September 1489 AODS 457 (Entr. e Usc.), 45v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n.2 with incorrect year)

Antonio di Neri di Barili m. di lengniame l. sessantadue s. 0., compri legniame per fare lo choro de la chapella di Santo Giovanni.

17. 3 November 1489 AODS 457 (Entr. e Usc.), 46v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2 with incorrect year)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barile a di iii di novembre l. tre s. dodici contanti per detto di messer nostro a ser Giovanni Danielli per due modelli di nocie compro da lui.

18. 13 October 1490 AODS 718, 331 right (Lusini, 2: 125, n. 2, with incorrect page number)

Mirgelogmolo e Guglielmo di m. Giusto da Foiano di Valdimersa chavatori di marmo per insino a dí xiii d’ottobre, l. centosessantasette, s. dieci, d. otto e’ quali sonno per chavatura di quindicimila duecento trenta libre di marmi charraresi ci an chondotto dalla focie di Grosseto a l’opera nostra, per 1. undici s. --- al Mille d’achordo e per detto di misser nostro, e sonno a le spese della chapella di Santo Giovanni.

19. 15 November 1491 AODS 718, 331 right (Lusini, 2: 125, n. 2, with incorrect page number)

Mirgelogmolo e Guglielmo di m. Giusto da Foiano di Valdimersa per insino a di xv di novembre l. cento dicotto s. dieci e quali sonno per chavatura di libre di sei mille secento sessanta di marmi...lavoro psa allo chappella.

20. 27 October 1492 AODS 718, 331 right (Lusini, 2: 125, n. 2, with incorrect page number)

Mirgelogmolo e Guglielmo di M. Giusto da Foiano di Valdimersa …e di xxvii di ottobre l. sesantadue s. dodici e quali sommo sei mila seicento di marmi a lui condotti per la cappella di Santo Giovanni.

235

21. 22 January 1493 AODS Libro roso di un leone, 40 (Lusini, 2: 125, n. 1)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barile il di (22 gennaio), l. duecento s. 0, li quali danno per parte del choro fa per la chapella di San Giovanni in duomo.

22. 24 April 1493: AODS 718, 393 right (unpublished)

Francesco di Niccolino scharpellino die avere, a di xxiiii di’aprile 1493. 1. Quattordici e s. otto e’ quali sonno per chavatura di bracio dodici e due terzi di tavole di marmi bianchi a chavato a Ghallena per s. xviii el bracio quadro; e per un pezo di e andata e rivolte di 1/3 per s. xxx il bracio andante, e quale a chavai per lavoro della chapella di Santo Giovanni.

23. 3 June 1493 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 37r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barile a di iii di giugnio ll. quaranta s. 0. li paghamo per ordine di messer Alberto nostro per parte delo choro.

24. 4 July1493 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 37v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barile, adi iiii di luglio l. quaranta, s. 0., paghamo per poliza di messer Alberto per parte di lavoro del choro.

25. 3 August 1493 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 38r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barile m. del legniame adi iii d’aghosto l. quaranta paghamo per poliza di messer Alberto per parte di lavoro.

236

26. 2 September 1493 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 38r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili a’ di ii di settembre l. quarata s. 0., li paghamo per poliza di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario di lavoro del choro dela chapella di San Giovanni di duomo.

27. 6 October 1493 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 39r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barile maestro di legniame il di detto l. quaranta s. 0, per parte di messer Alberto per parte del lavoro fa.

28. 5 November 1493 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 39v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barile a di v di novembre l. quaranta s. 0 per parte di messer Alberto per parte di lavoro.

29. 11 December 1493 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 40r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2, with incorrect date)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barili detto l. quaranta s. 0 li phagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di lavoro di coro.

30. 30 January 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 40v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2, with incorrect date)

M. Antonio di Barili l. quaranta s. 0 li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

31. 16 February 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 40v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili l. quaranta s. 0 li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

237

32. 10 March 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 41r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili di detto l. quaranta s. 0 li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte de la coro di noce nella cappella di San Giovanni.

33. 2 Aprile 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 41v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2, with incorrect date)

M. Antonio di Barile a di ii d’aprile l. quaranta s. 0. li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario del choro a muro fa ne la chapella di San Giovanni.

34. 7 June1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 43r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili a di vii di giugno l. quaranta s. 0., li pagai per parte di messer Alberto per lavoro fa a la capella di San Giovanni.

35. 3 July 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 43v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili adi iii di luglio l. quaranta s. 0. li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

36. 2 August 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 43v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2, with incorrect date)

M. Antonio di Barili di detto l. quaranta s. 0. Li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

37. 3 September 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 44r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili di detto l. quaranta s. 0 li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

238

38. 7 October 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 44r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili di bii di ottobre l. quaranta s. 0. li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario della coro fa nella cappella di San Giovanni.

39. 3 November 1494 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 44v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili di iii di novembre l. quaranta s. 0. li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

40. 10 January 1495 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 45v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

M. Antonio di Barili m. di legnamo ad di x di gennaio l. ottonta s. 0. li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

41. 22 April 1495 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 47r. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

Antonio di Barili ad di xxii di aprile l. ottonta s. 0. li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

42. 28 April 1495 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 47v. (Lusini, 2: 130, n. 2)

Antonio di Barili ad di xxviii di aprile l. quarata s. 0. li pagamo per parte di messer Alberto per parte di suo salario.

43. 30 Aprile 1495 AODS 459 (Entr. e Usc.), 48r. (Lusini, 2: 131, n. 2)

Spesa della chapella di San Giovanni l. xxxiii, s. viiii, d. iiii.

239

44. 30 April 1496 AODS 718, 469 right (unpublished)

Lorenzo di Marino scarpellino di avere a di ultimo di aprile 1496 l. centovintotto e quali sono per lo suo solario incomincio adi primo di maggio 1495 e finito di l’ultimo di aprile 1496.

45. 11 May 1496 AODS 718, 544 left (unpublished)

M. Antonio di Neri di Barili m. di legni... e di due sino a di xi di maggio 1496 l. otto soldi --- per uno modello di noce detto luoghi detto pago per lui e suo detto.

46. 30 April 1497 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 510 right (unpublished)

Lorenzo di Mariano nostro scharpellino di avere, a di ultimo di aprile, 1. centoquarantaquattro s. ---, sonno per lo suo ordinato salario d’uno anno e il quale in lui servito l’opera nostra in sul lavoro della cappella di San Giovanni, al quale tempo incomincio a di primo di maggio 1496, fini a di detto : per ordine di misser Alberto nostro dignissimo operaio.

47. 14 June1497 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 515 right (Lusini, 2: 127, n.2)

Pietro di Giovanni dipentore die avere, a di xiiii di giugno 1. quattro s. 0, e’ quali sonno per la sua manifattura e oro messo di suo nel tondo ene per fine a chapo la cappella del Braccio di Santo Giovanni.

48. 8 September 1497 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 510 right (unpublished)

Lorenzo di Mariano…die avere, a di viii di settembre l. sesantotto s. ---, e’ quali sonno per lo suo servito di mesi iiii e di viii el quale lui a servito ne l’opera nostra sul lavoro di detta cappella a ragione di l. sedici al mese per ordine di m. Alberto nostro dignissimo operaio.

240

49. 23 August 1499 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 556 left (Lusini, 2: 126, n.1)

Giovanni da Settignano scharpellino de’ avere sino a di 23 di agosto, l. novi s. ---, sonno per sua manifattura di tre pietre ante per la cappella di santo Giovanni.

50. 3 October 1499 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 556 left (Lusini, 2: 126, n.1)

Filippo da Settignano scarpellino die dare sino a di iii d’ottobre 1499 l. trenta s. x, per l’amonta di. br. xv qi. i di cornice fatta per la cappella di S. Giovanni.

51. 25 October 1499 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 565 left (Lusini, 2: 126, n.1)

Raffaello da Settignano scharpellino die avere sino a di xxv d’ottobre 1499 1. vintidue s. iii. sonno per sua manifattura di br. ii d’architrave e fregio e 4 pilastrini e’ quali lui a lavorati per la cappella di Santo Giovanni.

52. 30 August 1501 AODS 459/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 22r. (Lusini, 2: 127, n. 2)

Francesco di m. Sano Battiloro, a di xxx d’agosto, per panelli 1700 d’oro a date per le teste dei papi e per la capella di san Giovanni. l. cccl.

53. 20 November 1501 AODS 459/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 23v. (Lusini, 2: 127, n. 2)

A Pietro di Giovanni dipentore, a di xx di novembre 1. trentanove s. 0, li pagai per poliza di misser Alberto e sonno per l’ amonta di panelli 1200 d’oro a mese la volta de la capella di S. Giovanni.

241

54. 27 December 1501 AODS 459/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 23v. (Lusini, 2: 127, n. 2)

Pietro di Giovanni dipentore, a di xxvii di decembre 1. quarantacinque s. 0, li pagai per poliza di misser Alberto nostro, che sonno per opere a date a dipegnare ne la capella di San Giovanni in Duomo.

55. 22 June 1502 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 564 right (Lusini, 2: 131, n. 2)

Frate Giovanni Battista Falesoma m. di finestre di vetro de’ avere a di xxii di giungio l. xiiii s. --, contanti e’ quali sonno per resto di l. xxv, s. ---, che lui deve avere per l’ amontá di iiii finestre, fatte a la lanterna sopra la tribuna de la cappella di Santo Giovanni, de le quali l. xxv. s. ---, ne li demo l. x s.---, per l’ amonta di l. 100 di piombo li demo per fare dette finestre.

56. 20 July 1502 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 593 left (Lusini, 2: 131, n. 4)

Baldassare di Giovanni di Salvestro dipentore de’avere, a di xx di luglio, l. dieci s. xvi contanti e’ quali gli demo per la valuta di stara sei di grano.

57. 30 July 1502 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 567 right (Lusini, 2: 131, n. 3)

Bartolomeo d’Ambrogio orafo die avere, a’ di xxx di luglio, l. cinquantasei s. xii sonno per l’amonta e costo d’ una palla di rame dorato in oro fino, la quale se li é fatta fare per mettare spopra la lanterna sopra la tribuna de la cappella di Santo Gioavnni, la quale se li fe’ fare per ordine e vuolere di misser Alberto Aringhieri nostro.

58. 27 August 1502 AODS 460 (Entr. e Usc.), 35v. ( Lusini, 2: 128, n. 2)

Bindo Bindi e compagni, a di xxvii d’aghosto, l. tredici s. 0, pagai per poliza di misser Aberto per la valuta di lib. xviii once viiii di vetri cristallini anti da loro, per una finestra vetrata entro la capella di San Giovanni.

242

59. 15 October 1502 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 593 right (Lusini, 2: 131, n. 4)

Baldassare di Gioavnni di Salvestro dipentore die avere fino questo di xv d’ottobre 1. quarantadue s. ---, sonno per l’ amonta di opere xii le quali lui à date a dipengnare ne la cappella di santo Giovanni per s. xx l’ opera d’achordo.

60. 31 August 1503 AODS 460/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 31v. (Lusini, 2: 131, n. 2)

A m. Antonio di Neri Barili a di 31 d’aghosto l. cento s. 0., e quali sonno al posto di suo paghamento del choro del legniame el quali lui affatto.

61. 14 August 1504 AODS 718 (Debit. e Credit.), 630 right (Lusini, 2: 132, n. 4)

M. Bernardino Perugino detto el Pentoricchio dipentore die avere sino questo di xiiii d’agosto 1504 l. settecento s. ---, contanti e’ quali sonno per la dipentura di otto quadri e’ quali lui à dipenti ne la cappella di santo Giovanni, storrati con figure di piu santi e vari colori, messe a oro e cholori, le quali lui à fatte per ordine di messer Alberto Aringhieri nostro degn.mo operaio d’acordo con lui per lo detto prezzo.

62. 11 September 1504 AODS 460/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 36v. (Lusini, 2: 131, n. 2)

A m. Antonio di Barile a di 11 di settembre l. quaranta s. 0 e li paghiamo per poliza di messer Alberto nostre sonno per parte di suo paghamento del choro el quale lui a fatto alla cappella di Santo Giovanni.

63. 16 January 1505 AODS 460/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 34r. (Lusini, 2: 132, n. 4 with incorrect year)

A m. Bernardino detto el Pentorichio, el di xvi di genaio, l. duecento diciasette s. 0, sonno per tanti e li paghamo per poliza di messer Alberto per parte di dipentura de la chapella di San Giovanni.

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64. 20 August 1505 AODS 460/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 35v. (Lusini, 2: 128, n. 1, with incorrect year)

Pietro di Giovanni dipentore, a di xx d’ aghosto, l. ottantasei s. 0, e paghamo per polizie di misser Aberto nostro, sonno per paghiamento di sua manifattura e dipentura di due archi dove so’ poste le teste de imperadori, e per una manifattura e dipentura di v teste fatte ne la cappella e messo d’oro e’ mosaici in de la capella.

65. 19 September 1505 AODS 460/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 36v. (Lusini, 2: 132, n. 4)

A m. Bernardino Penturichio l. settanta s. 0, e’ quali sonno per parte di suo paghamento de’ quadri e’ quali lui ha fatto e dipento nella cappella di San Giovanni.

66. 1 February 1506 AODS 460/2 (Entr. e Usc.), 39r. (Lusini, 2: 132, n. 4)

A m. Bernardino perucino detto Penturichio, a di primo di febraio l. duecento settanta s. 0, e’ paghiamo per poliza di misser Alberto nostro e’ quali sonno per resto di suo paghamento di l. ottocento, che lui aveva avere da l’opera nostra per suo magistero delle istorie à dipente nella capella di San Giovanni.

67. 21 August 1508 AODS 718, 242 right (Milanesi, 3: 415-16, Coor 152, both with incorrect dates)

Neroccio di Bartolomeo di Benedetto dipentore di rinchontro de’ avere per infino a di xxi d’agosto l. duecento due, s.---, sono per manifatura di una figura di marmo di Santa Caterina per la cappella di Santo Giovanni, fecie già più tempo fa, la quale non è ancho finita; stimata oggi questo per Jacomo Cozaregli e Ventura di Ser Giuliano, scultore.

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APPENDIX B

I. Excerpts from inventories of Siena Cathedral, 1467-1610

Inventario 1467 (unpaginated) AODS 867 1. Del Rirocto di Sotto: Uno santo giovanni di bronzo figura bellissima.

2. De la Cappella dienzo la sacristia: Una tavola dipenta da latare configura dela nostra donna et di pit prnti con la predella Due figure grandi scolptie cioe la nostra donna et langelo sono alemore di detta cappella Uno mgro letoo di legno rileviato messo adoro dmzr ala nostra donna atritharto in alto et tiene uno candeliere in marmo. Uno cahro di vetro di uctri branchi col viso di nostra donna in mezo a capo laltare di detta cappella. Due pezzi di sedies da appoggiarsi in detta cappella. Una figura di legno dorato ad imagine di S. Giovanni baptista tutto dorato, longho braccia due o arca el quale sta insul cassone del bracio di San Giovanni. Due pezzi di tendra di valcstio azurro fragiati intorno dipenta nel uno la nostra donna nel altra lagnolo ghabrello sta moatachate armo ferro atrarre so a detta cappella.

Invenatario 1480 AODS 867 3. Imprima la sagrestia e incominciao li argenti, 1r.: Una cassetta dargento dove simette il braccio di S. Giovanni Battista con molto groye cioe insul chupercio nella faccia dinanti ha una figura di nostra donna con uno smiraldo msa laspalla interno alcerchio didre nostra donna quattro perle: tre balasei, uno rubino, uno zaffino piccholo, in sullo sprgolo delehuperchio & interno aldro.

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4. Nella Cappella di mezo Sagrestia, 6v.: Una tavola dipenta a figura di madonna e altre figure colla predella insulaltare di mezo due figure di relievo dorate luno la nostra donna e l altra ellangelo stamo attarate allemura di dea cappella. Uno angioletto dipenti doro di rilievio sta dinanti alla nra donna attarhato in mezo dessa sagrestia chon bno candeliere i mano. Una figura di legno ad imagine di Santo Giovanni Battista dorato e dipento logho uno bracio mezzo sta insul casone del Braccio di Santo Giovanni Baptista. Due angeletti dorati e dipenti con uno candeliere in mano puno di longheza braccio uno e mezzo alluno li mancha ellale stano insul casssone del braccio di santo Giovanni.

5. Seguita le cose che sono nel Corpo nella chiesa, la cappella di S. Caterina, 15r.: Uno altare contravola piccola con crocixo e altri sanesti con una gratuola orferro intorno con due uusci runo pezo di sedia allato atro le altare con due Candelieri di ferro rguavi vilegno e sepultura di mamro del Car. Ricciardo.

Inventario1500 AODS 868 6. L’argentiera, ir.: Una cassetta d’argento dove simette il braccio di sno Giovanni bapt con molte gioie cioe in sul cuperdrio nella fama di nanci ha una figura di ma dona con uno smiraldo I sula spalle intorno alaerohio di detta nostra dona quattro prle, tre balasa uno rubino, uno caffino picholo in sulosprigolo del cuperchio, e intorno ad detto cuperchio rola palla da capo e in tucto il cuperdrio, xxbiiii perle, uno caffine intagliato a capo la palle, xiiii caffini per tucto el cuperdrio, bi rubini....

7. Nella Cappella di mezo della Sagrestia , xv.: Una tavola dipenta a figura di nostra madonna - alte figure cola predella - sul altare dimuco due figure di rilievo dorate bna la nostra donna lalt tabiolo stano atachate alla mura di detta cappella Uno agneletto dipento d oro di nlieno sta di nanriah ala nostra donna atachato in mezo dessa sagrestia con bno candeliere in mano. Una fogura di legno di imagino di S. Giovanni baptista dorata e dipento longha bno braccio e mezo sta in sagrestia in sul altare. Due Angioletti dorati e dipenti con bno candeliere .

8. Seguita la sagrestia, xir.: Un santo Giovanni di bronzo figura bellisima.

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9. La cappella di Santo Giovanni, xxiiir.: Un altare di marmo con due candelieri con predella dintorno a detta cappella bno choro nuovo facto tucto a figure e bna figura di San Ansano e altare ala detta cappella e le gratirole di ferro e bno lampanaio.

10. La cappella di santa Caterina, xxiiir.: Uno altare a tavola pichola e crocifizo e altri sancti con bna gratirola di ferro interno e due suo bno peco di sedia allato al detto altare con due candelieri di ferro gradi di legno e sipultura di marmo del Cardenale ricciario.

Inventario 1525 AODS 868 11. Nella chappella di mezo della sagrestia, 8v.: Una tavola di penta a figura di nostra donna e altri figuri chon la predella insullo altaro di mezo dur figuro diahevo dorate una lampa doma l altra langiolo attarhate alle muo di detta chappella. Uno angioletto dipento doro. Una figura di legno ad immagine di S.o Giovanni Battista dorato e dipento longa braccia cinque e mezo sta insagrestia insullo altaro.

12. Sequita la segrestia, 9r.: Uno S.to Giovanni di bronzo figura bell.ma.

13. La cappella di San Giovanni, 19r.: Un altare d’marmo chon due chandelieri e chon predello -- interno a detta chappello una choro nuovo fatto a figura chon una figura di santo ansano et altaer allo detto chappello a la grahifulo di ferro et uno lampanaio.

Inventario 1536 AODS 868 14. Nella cappella di mezo della sagrestia, 7r.: Una immagine di legno di S.to Giovanni Battista d’orato e dipneto longo un braccio e mezo sta in sagrestia innello altare.

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15. Sequita la sagrestia, 7v.: Un s.to Giovanni di bronzo figura bellissima.

Inventario 1563 AODS 868 16. La cappella di San Giovanni, 10v.: Un altare di marmo con lampadaio con graticole di ferro et sua predella.

17. La cappella di San Giovanni, 16r.: Uno altare di marmo con 2 candelieri e predella dintorno adea cappella un coro nuovo fatto tutto a figure con una figura di sancto si ansano e altare alla dea cappella con graficole di ferro e un lampanaio.

18. Nela stanza dove sta il Braccio di S.to Giovanni, 18r.-v.: Una cassetta longha dipenta dentrovi il braccio d s. Gio. Batta legato le cogegniture io oro con le sotto seritte gioioe cioe.

Inventario 1578 AODS 868 19. La cappella di S. Giovanni, 13v.: Un altare di marmo con lampanaio et graticola di ferro et sua predella.

20. Nella Stanza dove sta il braccio de Santo Gio. Baptista in duomo, 22r-v.: Un cassone di Ferro grande con due serrature dentrovi il detto Braccio. Una cassetta d’argento dove si mette il braccio di santo Giovanni Battista .

Inventario 1590 AODS 869

21. La cappella d S. Gio., 23r.: Un altari di marmo con lampanaio e graticola di ferro e sua predella.

22. Nella stanza dove sta il braccio di S. Giovani duomo, 40v.: Un cassone di fero grande con due sevaluce de teneri il di braccio. Una cassetta di argento dove si conserva il braccio d S. Gio. Batt. Inventario 1591

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AODS 870 22. Altari nella chiesa, 10r.: La cappella di S. Gio.ni serrata di grate di ferro; un fonte di marmo fa altare.

AODS 871 -- Inventario 1597 23. Altari della chiesa, 3r.: La cappella di s. Giovanni serrata di grate di ferro: una fonte di marmi fa altare: con sua coperta iuse eina come sopra. (Added in darker ink: l’altare si fatto ed tavola et tolai di legni)

Inventario 1601 AODS 872 24. Altari della chiesa, 3r.: L’altare et cappella di S. Gio.ni serrata di grate di ferro; une fonte di marmo, sopra lag le intelaio di legnio con una tavole fa latare. Sta il tabernacolo a tempietto chesi disse di sopra...due candiori di ferro...croce.

Inventorio 1610 AODS 873 25. Nel Corpo della Chiesa, 1r. (Herzner, 185, with incorrect AODS volume cited): La cappella di San Giovanni, una fonte, alla quale è fabbricato un altar di legno sopra un grado di legname uso con figure antiche, con ciborio di legname dorato uso, con croce di legno brustata d’oro, due candelieri di ferro, tavoletta delle segrete, coperta dell altare di tela rigata, un lampanario di legname dorato con tre lampade, una figura di bronzo di San Giovanni nel primo ovato, e due altre figure di marmo nelli altri due ovati, e cori di noce attorno e tarsia, due candelieri di noce grandi brustati d’oro, an altro piu piccolo brustato d’oro.

26. Nella stanza dove sta il Braccio di San Giovanni Battista in Duomo, 1v.: Un cassone di ferro grande con sue serratur’ dentrovi detto braccio. Una cassetta argento dove si conserva il braccio di San Giovanni. Dentro alla Cassetta un quancia letto di broccatello f oro, eran velo lavorato d’oro Una Cassetta longa dipinta dentro il sopra detto braccio, il quale ha legato le congionture con oro con l’infrascrite gioie.

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II. Excerpt from Alfonso Landi, Racconto di pitture, di statue, e d’altre opere eccellenti, che si ritrovano nel tempio della Cattedrale di Siena…

1655 Landi, 30-38: 28. Cappella di S. Gio. Batta: Al già descritto Altare succede la Cappella di S. Gio. Batta. È da sapersi, che ella non entrava già in dentro ma che ivi v’era appoggiato un Altare dedicato a S. Caterina delle Ruote, e che sopra di esso v’era il Sepolcro del Cardinale Riccardo Petroni sanese, e che dal Sig. Rettore fra Alberto Aringhieri Cav.re Gerosolimitano fu fatto levare l’Altare, e il Sepolcro, e che questo fu transferito dove era si vede per opera di Bastiano di Francesco Scarpellino, con mercede di L. 72 come al Libro Rosso d’un Leone fo. 107 -, e per far Cappella in dentro roppe il muro M Stefano di Domenico muratore, con spesa di L. 21 -, come a detto Libro fo. 218. Questa Cappella ritiene ancora il Titolo di S. Caterina detta essendo in essa Offitzatura con tale Titolo. E dentro dalla banda destra all’entrare, in una nicchia v’è una Statua di marmo di tutto rilevo rappresentante detta Santa fatta da Neroccio di Batolomeo Dipintore, e Scultore sanese, stimata L. 202 da Jacomo Cozzarelli, e da Ventura di S. Giuliano Scultori sanesi, come a detto Libro fo. 242. Il Signor Savino Antecessore del Sig. Aringhieri hebbe forse intenzione di fare in detto luogo una Cappella a S. Ansano Battista della Città, non essendo allora in Duomo Altare dedicato al suo culto, per quello che io ne sappia; e però al Libro Giallo di tre Rose in più fogli si fa menzione d’una Colonna gialla, di due Capitelli e di più marmi proveduti per la Cappella di S. Ansano alle partite di Giusto di Domenico da Friano, e di Bartalino di Massa di Carrara, quali marmi si vedono applicati alla porta della Cappella di S. Giovanni. Aiuta la mia credenza il vedere dentro a detta Cappella una Statua di S. Ansano battezzante, del medesimo marmo, e forse del medesimo artefice della detta Santa Caterina. Però il Sig. Aringhieri voltò forse il culto di S. Ansano verso S. Gioavanni come Cavaliere militante sotto tal Santo, e nelle due statue poste in detta Cappella secondò forse l’intenzione dell’Antecessore, et insieme servì all’antico Titolo di essa. Rotto adunque il muro, vi si aprì una porta la quale perchè fosse magnificamente ornata nella faccia di verso il Tempio, fu posto un pilastro di pietro per lato della medesima, nell’uno e nell’altro de’ quali fu alzato un’ornamento di pietro sollevato dal paino all’altezza di braccia 17; e questo fu diviso in ordino Corintio nella parte inferiore, et in Jonico nella superiore. Il pedistalli dalla parte di sopra alla porta è del Gentilesimo, e del buon secolo a perfettissimo giudizio di persona, che è stata, e sarà sempre il sommo apice di sapere, e di dignità sopra a tutti gl’uomini. Questo piedistallo sopra al zoccolo alto mezzo braccio ha il il suo basamento, e nelli angoli della faccia dalle parte di sotto ha scolpiti a basso rilevo due Ippogrifi con ali aperte, l’una distesa nella facciata di fuore, l’altra nelle facciate di fianco, e ne’ medesimi angoli dalla parte di sopra sono due teste di Castroni, dalle quali ricade pendente un festone di vari frutti. Sopra ad esso vi è un mostro marino diacente, sopra del quale diace per fianco una donna nuda abbracciata dal mostro con la mano sinistra, tenendo un tridente colla destra: la donna cigne il colle del mostro

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con ambe le braccia. Nel finaco di sopra il detto pilastro, nell’angoli da basso, e di sopra, ha i medesimi ornamenti, che sono nella faccia, e sopra al festone v’è un Ercole nudo con uno Leone nelle spalle tenuto con le mani e con gran faticha mostrata dalla curvità dellea persona; e davanti a lui vi è un Altare in forma quadra isolato non senza ornamento, rappresentato con fuoco, e fiamma sopra a esso. Nel fianco di sotto sono i medesimi intagli, che nelle parti descritte. Sopra poi al festone per ripieno v’è un Cavallo nudo corrente con uomo nudo sopra, con un panno al collo svolazzante, e nella destra ha una mazza alzata con la quale mostra d’havere ucciso un uomo, che parimente nudo diace sotto il Cavallo. Il piedistallo di sotto, posato in zoccolo, e in basamento, come il compagno nell’angoli della faccia nella parte di sotto ha due Arpie, e di sopra ha due teste di Caprone, e da queste pende un festone di diversi frutti, che riempie la faccia dal mezzo in giù; sopra al qual festone per ripieno dalla parte superiore vi sono due targhe legate insieme con un nastaro svolazzante, pendenti da un chiodo. In capo all’uno, et all’altro pilastro alto braccia due, e mezzo, vi è la cimasa intagliata a ovoli, e a dentelli. I membretti de’ pilastri hanno in faccia un festone pendente a piombo da capo a piedi con diversi frutti. Sopra a tali piedistalli sono posate due colonne di marmo giallo di tutto rilevo, i capitelli delle quali sono di gentilissimo lavoro, e le colonne piane dietro a esse con loro pilastrini a’ lati sono intagliate con vari rabeschi, e trofei a mezzo rilevo. Ne I detti Capitelli posa l’architrave, che sostiene un fregio, andante da una testa all’altra, intagliata di festoncini ricadenti, sostenuti da putti nudi, e i festoni sono ripieni di trofei, e di teste di Satiri. La cornice superiore al fregio è intagliata a ovoli, e a dentelli, nella quale termina il primo ordino di questa macchina. Nel ripieno dell’arco d’essa porta dalla faccia di fuore vi sono l’Armi dell’Opera, e del Rettore, comprese in una sola targa cinta d’un festone intagliato a frutti con due Angioli interi nudi di più di mezzo rilevo, che la sostengono. L’arco d’essa porta nella facciata di fuore è intagliato a teste di Serafini con ali aperte, racchiusi di sopra, e di sotto, con un festoncino di basso rilevo, come sono le dette teste racchiusi in esso. Nella parte di sotto è intagliato a soffitta dispensata a quadretii, ripieni tutti di teste di Sarafini con ali aperte, et è sostenuto dalla parte di sotto dalla grossezza della muraglia di braccia due ed 10, vestita di marmo con quattro riquadrature per parte, i ripiene delle quale sono di pietre mistie. Nel serraglio d’esso v’è una mensola dalla bande parimente di fuora ornata d’un bambino intero nudo, e di tutto rilevo; e finalmente per riquadramento di essa porta vi sono due Vittorie intagliate pure a basso rilevo poste ne’ due angoli della medesima. L’ordine Jonico, che è secondo, e superiore in questo edificio ha per prime sue parti due base, nelle quali posano due colonne quadre di pietra gialla intagliata da tutte le facce, et hanno i suoi pilastri, e pilastrini di pietra bianca intagliati alla maniera de’ pilastri e pilastrini di sotto. Le colonne hanno sopra di sè i capitelli di lavoro Jonico, sopra de’ quali si posa l’Architrave reggente un fregio intagliato a bassi rilevi alla maniera del fregio di sotto, coperto dalla cornice lavorata a ovoli, e a dentelli, sopra la quale nel mezzo invece di frontespizio è situato un tondo di marmo, nel quale, intagliato tutto a basso rilevo è Dio Padre con sei Serafini con ali aperte intorno ad esso. Questa si fatta porta quanto costase all’Opera non posso esattamente riferire, perchè il Sig. Rettore Aringhieri, che fece fabbricarla, tenne più eccellenti Maestri di scarpello a salario annuo, che però non fu bisogno di tenere conto separato di spesa fatta in detta porta. Con tutto ciò da più fogli del Libro d’un Leone dell’Opera ho raccolto, che la lavoratura de’ marmi di detta porta ascese almeno a L. 1056, et ho ancora raccolto, che in esso lavorarono Raffaello, e Filippo da Settignano, Lorenzo di Mariano, Crescenzio di Mario, Calisto di Pavolo, e M. Gio. di M. Stefano Capo Maestro, Artefici sanesi.

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Ma entrando ora nelle Cappella, ella è in form rotunda perfetta, il di cui diametro, e voto è di braccia dieci e un ottavo, il guscio, e muraglia della quale, per quello che apparische al Libro di un Leone a fo. 207, e 265 costò all’Opera L. 1225. Ella ha il pavimento tutto di pietra mistia, chiusa, e ricinta da una fregiatura di fondo nero intarsiato di vari rabeschi et Arpie. Allo intorno della muraglia ha una banca andante dall’uno, e l’altro lato della porta, alta da terra tre quarri di braccia, tutta di legname, et in faccia è divisa, e scompartita in 19 quadrilonghi, tramezzati da quadretti piccoli, e tanto gli uni, quanto gli altri sono riquadrati con listelli intarsiati tutti in una maniera. Dal piano di questa banca sorge una spalliera alta breccia tre parimente di legname, scompartita in 20 pilastri, i quali racciudono in se I diciannove quadri. I pilastri posano nel piedistallo, l’altezza del quale rigira andante da una testa all’altra come rigira la banca. I pilastri sono scannellati da capo, e più alla terza parte de’quali sono I suoi baccelli. I loro capitelli sono lavorati a invenzione dell’artefice, intagliati di buonissimo lavoro, e tra un capitello, e l’altro vi è una fregiatura parimente di bellissimo intaglio, con un vaso in mezzo pieno di vari frutti. Sopra a’ capitelli posano l’architrave, il fregio e la cornice, ognuno de’ quali membri è parimente ornato di vaghissimi intagli, e i risalti a’ pilastri nella fregiatura hannoscolpito diversi trofei, e in mezzo d’ essi risalti sono Arpie, che tengono in mezzo per ogni voto una cartella vota. La cornice, che chiude tutta l’opera, è intagliata a fogliami e a dentelli, nel fondo del gocciolatoio d’essa sono intagliate a basso rilevo rose, andanti da una parte all’altra. Nel primo quadro, contenuto dentro a tale macchina, si rappresenta dalla mano destra all’ entrare un’armario aperto, dentro al quale si vedono, e sono intagliati molti strumenti da legnaiuoli e da architetti. Nel secondo quadro l’Artefice di tal opera ritrasse sè stesso da’ fianchi in su, con stromenti alle mani intagliare, e pose una cartella sotto con questo parola: ‘Hoc ego Antonius Barilis opus caelo non pennicillo excussi A.D.M.D. II.’ Sopra al capo del quale v’è un arbore con uno uccello sopra esso. Nel terzo v’è uno scannelo mezzo aperto lavorato a cancello fatto a mandorle traforate, e tramezzato; nella parte di sopra del quale v’è un putto nudo interno, e in piedi con una palla nella mano sinistra: nella parte di sotto v’è un cerchio di molta larghezza con ponte dentro, e fuore, in forma di diamante; nella parte serrata del cancello si vede un Mescirobba dalla parte di sopra, e dalle parte di sotto un Bacile. Nel quarto vi è la figura di S. Ansano fino a mezzo finaco, sotto alla quale si vede la testa d’uno, che a mani gionte piglia il Battesimo, e il Santo con vaso in mano gli versa l’acqua battesimale in testa, tenente in mano destro la bandiera. Nel quinto v’è uno scannello aperto, tramezzato; nel piano di sopra v’ è un Calice con la patena, di sotto v’è una sottocoppa a diacere, con frutti intorno caduti da essa. Nel sesto vi è un corpo di Organi con un’ uomo che con faccia alzata sta godendo della dolcezza del suono, e nel finaco dell’Organo v’è l’Arme dell’Opera, e sotto a essa v’è l’Arme del Rettore Aringhieri.Nel settimo vi è uno scannello con sportello mezzo aperto, lavorato a cancello traforato, nella parte di sopra v’è un Toribolo, e Navicella con una cartella, sopra con queste parole: ‘Dirigatur Domine Oratio mea, sicut incensus in conspectu tuo.’ Nella parte di sotto vi è la Pila dell’Acqua Benedetta, coll’Asperges dentro un paro di Ampolle. Nell’ottavo vi è una figura di uomo Santo li splendori, e diadema in testa, con volto, e braccia destro alzati al Cielo, quale non ho compreso chi rappresenti. Sopra a esso vi è rappresentato un giardino pieno di diversi fiori, et albori. Nel nome v’è uno armadio attraversato, e mezzo aperto, nel di sopra vi è una Cartella con queste parole: ‘Qui post me venit, ante me factus est, cuis non sum dignus claceamenta solvere.’ Di sotto vi sono diversi strumenti musicali: le parole di sopra sono messe a

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nota di canto fermo. Nel decimo, e così nel mezo delli 19 quadri v’è la figura di S. Gio. Batta fina a mezzo fianco con al Croce in mano sinistra, e con la mano destra ha la cartella con le parole: ‘Ecce Agnus Dei,’ e col dito mostra Cristo in una figura, che lo rappresenta. Nell’undicesimo v’è uno scannello aperto tramezzato; di sopra vi è una Cartella, nella quale vi sono alcune strofe dell’Inno di S. Gio Batta con le note di canto fermo, e col nome sopra dell’Autore di detto Canto, e sono, che fu Alessandro Agricola, e di sotto v’è un flauto, et un violino col suo arco. Nel duodecimo v’è una figura di un giovane con una cartella di sotto dicente: ‘Joannis Baptiste discipulus.’ Questi per comune parere de’ pratichi della Sacra Scrittura rappresenta S. Andrea Apostolo. Nel decimoterzo v’è un armario aperto diviso: sopra vi è un Calice a diacere, e più frutti; e sotto vi è un vaso cupo con piedi pieno di frutti. Nel decimoquarto v’è una figura d’uomo fina al fianco, che suona un Leuto, sopra ad esso uomo apparisce un giardino con diversi arbori. Nel decimoquinto v’è un armario con tramezzo aperto con sportello a canello lavorato a mandorle; nella parte di sopra v’è un candeliere con candela assai consumata, e sotto vi è una cassetta piena di moccoli gialli. Nel decimosesto vi è rappresenta S. Caterina delle Ruote fina a’ fianchi, con le Ruote sotto, disputante col Tiranno; e d’avanti a sè ha un libro aperto, in faccia del quale sono intagliate queste parole: ‘Catherina Disputationis, Virginitatis’: e nell’altra faccia: ‘Ac Martirii palmam reportat.’ Nel decimosettimo v’è un armario tramezzato, e mezzo serrato con cancello, come gl’altri: di sopra v’è un Messale in piano con un Calice ritto, e patena sopra a esso Messale; e più v’è un paro d’occhiali, et altra patena appoggiata; da basso v’è un Libro serrato, che pare un Breviario, sopra il quale vi è un Libro aperto con queste parole: ‘Ecce mitto Angelum meum ante faciem tuam, qui preparabit viam tuam ante te. Vox clamantis in deserto: parate viam Domini, rectus facite semitas eius.’ Nel decimottavo v’è una porta maestosa, dalla quale si vede un giarddino, e entrovi compariscono arbori diversi con frutti pendenti; e a basso vi è un tavolino nel quale vi è un calamaio con penna, e un temparino, con una cartella, che esce dal detto Calamaro con queste parole: ‘Alberto Aringhieri Operaio fabre fatcum.’ Nell’ultimo vi è uno armario aperto con tramezzo e con cancello; di sopra v’è un’arpa e di sotto v’è un violino con altri strumenti musicali. Questa residenza di legname, lavorata in prospettiva a tarsia, e a intaglio, fu fatta da M. Antonio di neri Barili Sanese Maestro egregio di tal’Arte, e fugli pagata dal Rettore Aringhieri L. 4090 per stima fattane per via di compromesso, e di Lodo, da F. Giovanni da Verona Olivetano Maestro celebratissimo di simili lavori, come al Libro d’un Leone, a fo. 644 nel 1504. Ma tal’opera fu agguattata, e tolta alla vista delle Persone, et al loro godimento, perchè fu messa in luogo quasi del tutto oscuro; che però di tutti I Cittadini, che sono vissuti nella Città da che ella fu fatta, non credo, che uno per migliaro habbia conosciuto, che cosa ella sia, la quale appena si può discernere da chi non la mira con aiuto di torcia bene ardente. Anzi che della ha patito d’un altro cattivo incontro, perchè alcuni quadri di essa sono spogliati, e hanno patito dal tarlo, poichè forse fu posto così delicato lavoro intorno a mura fabbricate di nuova, e non ancora a bastanza rasciutte. Sopra alla spalliera già descritta dal Barili v’è uno zoccolo andante in tutto giro alli stipiti della porta, et è arabescato a basso rilevo, risaltante in sei partimenti, quali servono per pedistallo a 14 pilastri piani; formanti tra le sette parti, tre delle quali hanno una nicchia per una, e le 4 altre parti hanno un riquadramento per uno con pittura dentro a ciascuno. Sopra a questi pilastri ricorrono architrave, fregio, e cornice, la quale fa imposta agli archi delle nicchie; e sopra a’ riquadramenti, che sono nell’ordine di sotto v’è un’altro ordine d’otto pilastri scannellati andanti, la terza parte a baccelli, e l’altre parti votie; sono essi d;ordine Jonico, sopra a’ quali sono architrave, fregio, e

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cornice, nella quale posa la Tribuna fabbricata a volta rotonda tutta colorata d’azzurro, ornata di stelle, e de’ dodici segni del Zodiaco a mezzo rilevo, e indorati. Nel centro, a sommità di essa volta v’è un Lanternone con quattro finistre ripiene di vetrate, che danno lume alla Cappella. Dalle tre nicchie dette, la di mezzo in faccia alla Porta contiene la Statua di S. Giovanni di brozo, gettata da Donato di Niccolò fiorentino detto comunemente Donatello, ma però non punto rifinita secondo l’Arte. Non ho trovato memoria del tempo della fatta statua, nè di prezzo, con che fosse pagata, ma certo è che Donatello lavorò in Siena nel 1427, come in altro luogo dirò. La nicchia a mano destra contiene la statua di S. Ansano battezzante un putto, che ha a’ piedi; e la nichia sinistra contiene la statua di S. Caterina delle Ruote, delle quali ho detto di sopra. Nel primo riquadramento contiene la ststua di S. Caterina delle Ruote, delle quail ho detto di sopra. Nel primo riquadramento poi, che è a mano destro v’è dipenta la Natività di S. Gio. Batta: nel secondo, che è a sinistra vi è la Decollazione del Santo. Nel terzo dalla parte destra v’è un giovanetto bello d’aspetto vestito d’arme in tutto la persona, salvo, che nella testa, e nelle mani, perchè il morione, et i guamti sono posati in terra, e sopra al corsaletto in abito di scarlatto v’è sopraposta la Croce bianca in forma quadra, il che mostra il rappresentato eser Cavaliere di S. Giovanni. Egli è posto genuflesso, e con le mani gionte orante. Nel quarto, e nell’ultimo di quell’ordine vicino alla porta v’è un Cavaliere d’età senile senza barba con abito maestoso, e civile con Croce bianca a razzi pendente al petto, genuflessa, e con mani gionte, nel qual riquadramento è rappresentata la Città di Rodi con mare, a lei adiacente: questo per tradizione de’ nostri maggiore, et Antenati rappresenta il Sig. Cav.re Aringhieri, nel tempo che vecchio era Rettore, e l’altro rappresenta il medesimo Cav.re quando egli era giovane, e che prese l’Abito. Nel secondo ordine superiore a destra della nicchia di mezzo vi è S. Giovanni battezzante Nostro Signore. A sinistra vi è la Visitazione, fatta dalla Vergine a S. Elisabetta. Nel terzo riquadramento a mano destra v’è S. Giovanni giovanetto, abiante nel deserto, e nell’ultimo da sinistra vi è S. Giovanni predicante. Questi otto riquadramenti furono dipinti a fresco da Bernardo di Benedetto da Perugia deto il Pinturicchio con mercede di tutti e’ otto di L. 700, nel 1504 come al Libro Rosso d’un Leone fo. 634. La nicchia di mezzo ha il frontespizio serrato a terzo acuto, nelvotio del quale vi è una vetrata lavorata a mandorle, che fa lume alla Cappella. E in faccia della sua conchiglia v’è una grata di ferro con un Nome di Giesù in mezzo, con fogliami attorno tutta traforata e coperta d’oro. Ma è da sapersi, che delli otto quafri dipenti dal Pinturicchio essendosene guasti tre, I medesimi furono di nuovo dipenti per ordine del Sig. Muzio Placidi Rettore da M. Francesco di M. Vincenzio Rustici, ambi Pittori sansei, l’uno de’ quail fu la Visitazione della Beata Vergine a S. Elisabetta; l’altro del Battesimo di Nostro Signore, il terzo del Martiro del Santo, de’ Quadri il Rustici n’hebbe L. 490, compresa però in questa soma la mercede di una pittura, fatta da lui sopra alla porta della Chiesa di S. Ansano in Castelvecchio, la qual Chiesa è sottoposta all’Opera, come al Giornale dal 1596, fo. 329. E più il medesimo Sig. Rettor Placidi diede L. 1300 a Cosimo Lucchi Pittore Sanese, per oro e colori messi nel rindorare li stucchi, e ricolorire la volta d’essa Cappella, come a detto Libro, e fo. da M. Alberto Stuccatore pagò L. 128 per haver ornato di stucchi lo stanzino, nel quale si tiene racchiuso il Braccio del Santo, come a detto Libro, fo. 332. E più a M. Salustio di M. Francesco Barili fabbro pagò L. 2100 per un cancello fatto di ferro alla porta della medesima Cappela, come al Bilancio D, fo. 588. Et io dal medesimo M. Salustio ho saputo, che egli ricevè dall’Opera L. 280 per fattura della grata di ferro, che è nella conchiglia della nicchia principale esistente in mezzo alla Cappella; e finalmente il medesimo Sig. Rettore pagò a M. Flaminio del Turco Maestro

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di pietre L. 259, per balaustri, e inginocchiatoi di marmo, fatti alle bande della porta della Cappella, nelli quail è commessa la medesima porta di ferro, come al Bastard. Longo fo. 130 dell’anno 1616. In questa Cappella si celebra in un Altare amovibile di legname, perchè sotto a esso piantata nel pavimento è una Pila di marmo bianco di Carrara, della quale si serve il Clero a benedire l’acqua battesimale la mattina del Sabbato Santo. Questa è a otto faccie tutta d’un pezzo, alta un braccio,e cinque ottavi, col suo imbasamento, che è aggionto, et è larga in bocca braccia due. Il basamento suo è puro con poca cornice sotto, e sopra, nel quale si posa uno zoccolo intagliato con figure di basso rilevo variate a ogni faccia.

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FIGURES

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Figure 1 Francesco d’ Antonio, Reliquary for the Arm of the Baptist, Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Siena

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Figure 2 Plan of Siena Cathedral From 1658, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Rome

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Figure 3 Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 4 Façade Column and Pedestal, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 5 Façade Detail of Column Capital, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 6 Façade Detail of Pilasters, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 7 Façade Detail of Pilasters, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 8 Façade Detail of Pilaster, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 9 Detail of Right Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 10 Detail of Right Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 11 Detail of Right Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 12 Detail of Left Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 13 Detail of Left Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 14 Detail of Left Pedestal, Façade, Chapel of the Baptist Siena Cathedral

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Figure 15 Upper Façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 16 Façade Detail of Pier, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 17 Façade Detail of Frieze (Putti with Garlands), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 18 Façade Detail of Putti with Garlands, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 19 Façade Detail of Winged Victory Figure (Right), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 20 Façade Detail of Winged Victory Figure (Left), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 21 Façade Detail of Frieze (Putti with Winged Lions), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 22 Marble Revetment Under Barrel Vault, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 23 Barrel Vault, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 24 Dome, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 25 Interior With Statue of Saint John the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 26 Donatello, Saint John the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 27 Interior With Statue of Saint Ansanus, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 28 Giovanni di Stefano, Saint Ansanus Baptizing, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 29 Interior With Statue of Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 30 Neroccio, Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 31 Pinturicchio, Birth of Saint John the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 32 Pinturicchio, Saint John the Baptist In the Wilderness, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 33 Pinturicchio, Saint John the Baptist Preaching, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 34 Detail of Wood Carving, Interior, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 35 Interior With Portraits, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 36 Pinturicchio, Alberto Aringhieri, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 37 Pinturicchio, Young Knight (Luzio Aringhieri?), Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 38 Detail of Framework for Intarsia Panels, Collegiata, San Quirico d’Orcia

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Figure 39 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Lute Player, Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia

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Figure 40 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Garden Scene, Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia

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Figure 41 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Male Figure, Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia

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Figure 42 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Disciple of the Baptist (?), Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia

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Figure 43 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel with Self Portrait

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Figure 44 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel With Organ, Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia

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Figure 45 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel With Cabinet, Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia

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Figure 46 Antonio Barili, Intarsia Panel With Saint Catherine of Alexandria, Collegiata, San Quirico d’ Orcia

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Figure 47 Interior With Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 48 Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 49 Creation of Adam, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 50 Creation of Eve, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 51 Eve Tempted By the Devil, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 52 Adam Tempted By Eve, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 53 God Reproaching Adam an Eve for Their Sins, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 54 Expulsion From the Garden of Eden, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 55 Hercules and the Nemean Lion, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 56 Hercules and Nessus, Font, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 57 Façade, Chapel of Saint John the Baptist, Lateran Baptistery, Rome

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Figure 58 Façade, Chapel of Saint Zeno, Santa Prassede, Rome

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Figure 59 Chapel of Saint John the Baptist, San Lorenzo, Genoa

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Figure 60 Cappella di Piazza, Piazza di Campo, Siena

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Figure 61 Arch of Titus, Rome

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Figure 62 Arch of Constantine, Rome

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Figure 63 Entrance to the Stanza of the Arm Relic, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 64 Plan of Anastasis Rotunda, Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Jerusalem

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Figure 65 Arculf Plan of the Anastsis Rotunda

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Figure 66 Baptistery, Florence

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Figure 67 Paliotto, Museo del’ Opera del Duomo, Florence

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Figure 68 Vecchietta, Painted Doors of Arliquiera, Pinacoteca, Siena

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Figure 69 Chapel of Saint Catherine of Siena, San Domenico, Siena

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Figure 70 Reliquary Tabernacle, Chapel of Saint Catherine of Siena, San Domenico, Siena

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Figure 71 Chapel Font Covered With Altar, Detail of Seventeen-Century Drawing of Interior of the Chapel of the Baptist, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana

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Figure 72 Font, Siena Baptistery

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Figure 73 Roman Altar, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

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Figure 74 Roman Sarcophagus, Vatican Museums, Rome

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Figure 75 Jacapo della Quercia, Tomb of Ilaria del Carretto, Cathedral, Lucca

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Figure 76 Relief from a Roman Sarcophagus, Palazzo Mattei, Rome

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Figure 77 Putto with Griffin, Vatican Museums, Rome

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Figure 78 Model of the Arch of the Sergii at Pola

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Figure 79 Arch of Alfonso, Castel Nuovo, Naples

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Figure 80 Detail, Arch of Alfonso, Castel Nuovo, Naples

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Figure 81 Seventeenth-Century Study for Refurbishment of the Dome of the Chapel of the Baptist, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana

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Figure 82 Vincenzo Foppa and Ludovico Brea, Della Rovere Altarpiece, Santa Maria di Castello, Savona

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Figure 83 Giovanni Bellini, Saint Vincent Ferrer Altarpiece, SS. Giovanni and Paolo, Venice

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Figure 84 Andrea Sansovino, Corbinelli Altarpiece, Santo Spirito, Florence

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Figure 85 Antonio Rossellino and Francesco Botticini, Altarpiece of Saint Sebastian, Pinacoteca, Empoli

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Figure 86 Reconstruction of Niche of Saint Bernardino

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Figure 87 Giovanni di Paolo, Scenes From the Life of John the Baptist

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Figure 88 Ghirlandaio, Tornabuoni Chapel, Santa Maria Novella, Florence

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Figure 89 Ghirlandaio, Sassetti Chapel, Santa Trinita, Florence

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Figure 90 Chapel of the Cardinal of Portugal, San Miniato, Florence

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Figure 91 Cesare Maccari, The Baptist Visited in Prison, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 92 Vinenzo Rustici, The Baptism of Christ, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 93 Vincenzo Rustici, The Beheading of the Baptist, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 94 Palazzo Aringhieri, Siena

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Figure 95 Aringhieri Coat of Arms, Palazzo Aringhieri, Siena

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Figure 96 General Plan of Floor Pavements, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 97 Pavement Inscription Below The Expulsion of Herod, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 98 Pavement Inscription Before the Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 99 Antonio Federighi, Holy Water Stoup, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 100 Andrea Bregno, Piccolomini Altar, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 101 Piccolomini Library, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 102 School of Duccio, Maestà, Museo archeologico e della Collegiata, Casole d’ Elsa

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Figure 103 Detail of Maestà (Rainieri Aringhieri)

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Figure 104 Detail of Maestà (Beltramo Aringhieri)

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Figure 105 Marco Romano, Beltramo Aringhieri, Collegiata, Casole d’ Elsa

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Figure 106 Sepulchral Inscription for Niccolò Aringhieri, Cloister, San Domenico, Siena

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Figure 107 Former Site of Wall Tomb of Niccolò Aringhieri, Cloister, San Domenico, Siena

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Figure 108 Goro di Gregorio, Tomb of Niccolò Aringhieri, Courtyard, University of Siena

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Figure 109 Detail of Tomb of Niccolò Aringhieri

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Figure 110 Pietro Lorenzetti (attributed), Madonna and Child with John the Baptist and Knight, San Domenico, Siena

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Figure 111 Martino di Bartolomeo, Bartolomeo Palmieri, Oratory of San Giovanni, Cascina

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Figure 112 Donatello, Tomb Slab of Bishop Giovanni Pecci

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Figure 113 Pope Pius II Donates the Arm Relic of the Baptist to Siena, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena

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Figure 114 She-Wolf Atop Column, Siena

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Figure 115 Towers on the Via Montanini, Siena

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Figure 116 Fragment of Roman Inscription, Siena

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Figure 117 Arch of Augustus, Rimini

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Figure 118 Thirteenth-Century Seal of the Commune of Siena, Bargello, Florence

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Figure 119 Giovanni di Turino, Arms of the Military Company of San Quirico in Castelvecchio, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena

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Figure 120 Giovanni di Turino, She-Wolf, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena

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Figure 121 Relief from Roman Sarcophagus, Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Sien

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Figure 122 Detail of Right Pedestal, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 123 Neroccio di Bartolomeo, The Virgin Presents Siena to Christ, Archvio di Stato, Siena

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Figure 124 Madonna degli occho grossi, Museo del’ Opera del Duomo

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Figure 125 Coppo di Marcovaldo, Madonna del Bordone, Santa Maria dei Servi, Siena

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Figure 126 Neroccio di Bartolomeo, The Hellespontian Sibyl, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 127 The Sienese She-Wolf Surrounded by the Symbols of the Allied Cities, Siena Cathedral

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Figure 128 Lorenzo Ghiberti, Saint John the Baptist, Orsanmichele, Florence

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Figure 129 Vecchietta, The Risen Christ, Santissima Annunziata, Ospedale di Santa Maia della Scala

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Figure 130 Donatello, Marzocco, Bargello, Florence

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Figure 131 Donatello, David, Bargello, Florence

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Figure 132 Donatello, Judith and Holifernes, Palazzo Vecchio, Florence

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Figure 133 Donatello, Mary Magdalen, Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Florence

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Figure 134 Donatello, Saint John the Baptist, Santa Maria dei Frari, Venice

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Figure 135 Oratory of Saint Ansanus, Siena

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Figure 136 Detail of Duccio, Maestà, Museo dell’ Opera del Duomo, Siena

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Figure 137 Lippo Memmi, Saint Ansanus, Uffizi, Florence

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Figure 138 Antonio Federighi, Saint Ansanus, Loggia della Mercanzia, Siena

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Figure 139 Vecchietta, Saint Catherine of Siena, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena

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Figure 140 Neroccio di Bartolomeo, Saint Catherine of Siena, Oratorio di Santa Caterina di Siena in Fontebranda, Siena

396

Figure 141 Reliquary with Right Arm and Hand of John the Baptist

397

Figure 142 Reliquary with Right Arm and Hand of John the Baptist, Treasury, Topkapi Palace, Istanbul

398

Figure 143 Arm of the Baptist Presented to the Grand Master

399

Figure 144 Arm of the Baptist Held by Angels

400

Figure 145 Geertgen tot Sint Jans, Burning of the Bones of John the Baptist, Kunsthistorisches Museum,Vienna

401

Figure 146 Miraculous Vision of the Baptist and Virgin at the Great Siege of Rhodes

402

Figure 147 Silver Coin of Grand Master Helion de Villeneuve

403

Figure 148 Reliquary from the Hospitaller Church of John the Baptist in Jerusalem, Greek Orthodox Patriarchate

404

Figure 149 San Pietro alla Magione, Siena

405

Figure 150 San Leonardo, Siena

406

Figure 151 Matteo di Giovanni, Massacre of the Innocents, Siena Cathedral

407

Figure 152 Detail of Massacre of the Innocents

408

Figure 153 Knight Pierre de Bosredon Before the Baptist

409

Figure 154 Coin of the Knights of Rhodes

410

Figure 155 Reliquary with Arm and Hand of Saint Catherine of Alexandria

411

Figure 156 Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral

412

Figure 157 Interior section, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

413

Figure 158 Interior and vault, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral

414

Figure 159 Façade elevation, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral

415

Figure 160 Interior section and façade, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

416

Figure 161 Façade of chapel of the Baptist with proposed changes

417

Figure 162 Frontispiece and angels, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena, Cathedral

418

Figure 163 Detail of dome decoration, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

419

Figure 164 Papal and Chigi Symbols, Chapel of the Baptist, Siena Cathedral

420

Figure 165 Chapel of the Virgin, Collegiata, Impruneta

421

Figure 166 Chapel of the True Cross, Collegiata, Impruneta

422

Figure 167 Altar and Tabernacle with Sudarium

423

Figure 168 Altar and Tabernacle of Saint Andrew with Head Relic

424

Figure 169 Cappella Sistina, Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome

425

Figure 170 Cappella Paolina, Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome

426

Figure 171 Nave of Santa Maria Maggiore, Rome, with Tabernacle of the Virgin and Tabernacle of the Relics

427

Figure 172 Gianlorenzo Bernini, Saint Jerome, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral

428

Figure 173 Gianlorenzo Bernini, Mary Magdalene, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral

429

Figure 174 Antonio Raggi, Saint Bernardino, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral

430

Figure 175 Ercole Ferrata, Saint Catherine of Siena, Cappella del Voto, Siena Cathedral

431

Figure 176 High Altar, Siena Cathedral

432

Figure 177 Giuseppe and Bartolommeo Mazzuoli, Cenotaph of Marcantonio Zondadari, Siena Cathedral

433

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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Timothy B. Smith was born in 1969 in Lexington, South Carolina. He attended the University of South Carolina at Columbia, earning a BA in Art History in 1992. He undertook graduate studies in Columbia, specializing in Renaissance and Baroque Art and Architecture, and completed an MA in Art History in 1994. Named an Appleton Scholar at Florida State University, he began work on his doctorate in Tallahassee, Florida in that same year. In 1999, he joined the faculty of the Department of Art and Art History at DePaul University in Chicago, Illinois.

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