Ferdinando I de’ Medici 1549-1609 Maiestate Tantum at the Museum of the Medici Chapels

Ferdinando I de’ Medici 1549-1609 Maiestate Tantum
Museum of the Medici Chapels, Florence, May 2 – Nov 1 2009

This elegant show, commemorating the 400th anniversary of the death of Ferdinando I de’ Medici was inaugurated appropriately enough, on Thursday April 30, 2009, 420 years to the day of the entry of his bride Christina of Lorraine into Florence. The tenth of eleven children of Cosimo I de’ Medici and Eleonora di Toledo, Ferdinando was never expected to rule Tuscany, rather he was intended for a career in the church, made a cardinal at the age of 14. At 38 years old, Ferdinando was catapulted into the dukedom by the sudden and mysterious deaths of his older brother, Francesco I de’ Medici and his wife Bianca Cappello in 1587. Shortly after, Ferdinando unburdened himself of his cardinal’s robes in order to continue the Medici dynasty, marrying Christina in 1589. This exhibition celebrates the patronage of Ferdinand I de’ Medici, from the time he became Grand Duke in 1587 until his death in 1609, by focusing on two distinct projects. The first, early in Ferdinando’s reign, was the triumphal entry prepared for Christina in 1589, and the second was the altar project for the Medici Chapels begun five years before his death.

The left-hand side of the exhibit is dedicated to a display of four immense canvases recently discovered in the basement of the building, which have been beautifully restored (there are five more that are not on exhibit). The paintings are by such artists as Giovanni Balducci, Andrea Commodi, Lorenzo di Filippo Sciorina, Francesco Mati, and Giovanni Bizzelli. These canvases were meant to have an ephemeral life, used only as temporary decorations for the wedding festivities, and today they stand as eloquent testimony to the artistic vitality of a city that could produce such works essentially as party decorations to be used and then tossed away. These paintings bring to mind the banners and standards commissioned for Medici festivals from the workshops of Botticelli and Verrocchio, which unfortunately no longer exist. The works exhibited here are not on a par with either of those Renaissance masters, however they are certainly not shown to their best advantage here. The paintings, hung above a number of cases displaying contemporary printed descriptions of the entrata, are too high to be seen clearly. The materials exhibited in the cases though pertinent, does not warrant impeding the view of the paintings. Moreover, the setting of the Medici Chapels is problematic. However beautifully it contextualizes these works - it is an unmatched location in which to contemplate the splendor of the family and Ferdinando’s legacy – the place was not designed as a museum. The filmy motes of light that descend from the dome cast suggestive lighting on the marble tombs, but do not illuminate painted surfaces well.

The half of the exhibit dedicated to Ferdinando’s altar project is more engaging, not only for its more attractive presentation, but because the viewer is invited to participate with his imagination. The altar begun in 1604 was never completed; work continued fitfully after Ferdinando’s death and finally petered out entirely with the extinction of the ruling Medici family. Taking over from the Grand Ducal manufactory, the Opificio delle Pietre Dure in the 1920s built a modest altar out of pietre dure in an attempt to recapture the spirit of the original. The scale and opulence of what was originally intended, however, must be reconstructed in the mind’s eye by looking at the designs of Bernardo Buontalenti, Don Giovanni de’ Medici, and Matteo Nigetti in two exquisite renderings in pencil, watercolor, and tempera. Nearby models of columns carved from rock crystal and precious stones, as well as landscapes and still life subjects made from these materials, further aid the imagination in recreating the altar as it was meant to appear. In studying these finely crafted carved stones and rock crystals, one is forced to admire Florentine craftsmanship at its highest peak, and to marvel at the artistry lavished on these objects.

The organizers of this exhibition solicit additional interaction from its viewers. One of the signs reads: “The intention of this exhibit is not only to retrace the history of this unfinished project, but also to open prospects for its future.” In the following line visitors are requested to make comments registering their opinions concerning how, or if, work ought to proceed on Ferdinando’s altar. These comments can be left either in a box in the hall provided for that purpose, or on the website http://www.unannoadarte.it/ferdinandomedici/. This is an interesting move on the part of the museum’s curators, asking exhibition-goers to add their opinions on the future of a major restoration project. And indeed, the question is appropriate in these difficult financial times: should it be a priority to complete a costly project of mausoleum-building for a now extinct Renaissance dynasty? The skills required for such work are themselves nearly extinct, but perhaps reviving the craftsmanship alone would make the project worthwhile, in itself constituting a kind of Renaissance?