Usually considered the father of European art, Giotto for many is synonymous with his fresco cycles. In the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua, the Basilica of Santa Croce in Florence and the Basilica of St Francis in Assisi, these marvels of painterly storytelling unfold against naturalistic backdrops such as tree-dotted mountainsides and tower-clotted cityscapes. By setting robust, realistic figures in three-dimensional space, Giotto became the first painter to break with the Byzantine style – icon-like figures against flat, gold backgrounds – that had dominated Italian art for centuries.
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| ‘Madonna with Child on a Throne and Two Angels’, Giotto (1295) |
Little wonder that the last show considered a success was held in 1937 at the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, home to his greatest panel painting: the Ognissanti Madonna. The Uffizi has not allowed that work to travel but it has lent another masterpiece: the Badia Polyptych. On show for the first time since a magnificent restoration, it is accompanied by a handful of works universally agreed to be by Giotto and about 15 whose catalogue entries argue convincingly for his, or his workshop’s, authorship.
The show’s chief ambition is not to highlight Giotto’s genius – best achieved by a visit to Padua – but to challenge the myth that he was a lonely trailblazer whose talent owed nothing to the artists around him. Consequently, his works are framed by those who influenced him and whom he is said to have inspired.
After a section dedicated to bringing the absent frescoes to life by way of multimedia technology, the first works on show are dazzling proof that the rediscovery of classical values was under way before Giotto’s emergence.
A trio of 13th-century French Gothic reliefs, with deep-grooved drapery moulded fluidly around well-made bodies, show that an antique aesthetic influenced northern European artists. A catalogue chapter argues that Giotto visited France; yet even if he remained in Italy, the cosmopolitan nature of medieval Florence would have made him aware of what was happening beyond the Alps.
Far more familiar are a trio of Tuscan sculptors: Nicola Pisano, his son Giovanni and pupil Arnolfo di Cambio. Nicola Pisano’s pulpit for Pisa’s Baptistery is probably the first work of the early Renaissance. Pisano is represented here by “Head of a Young Woman” (c1250), whose harmonious features and tight curls are typically Roman. From Arnolfo di Cambio comes the “Madonna of the Nativity” (1296), whose graceful yet matronly figure, which Giotto certainly saw adorning the façade of Florence cathedral, is a world away from idealised Byzantine forms.
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| ‘St Peter’ by Simone Martini (1321-23) |
Cimabue’s Madonna is a sinuous, olive-skinned thoroughbred, intimidating and unapproachable. In contrast, Giotto’s first undisputed work, the “Madonna with Child on a Throne and Two Angels” (1295), depicts a broad-hipped housewife, her baby settled on her generous lap.
Earthy yet tender, dignified yet human, Giotto’s vision finds its apotheosis in the Badia Polyptych (1295-1300). The faces in this Madonna flanked by saints are rendered with tender precision. St Peter’s crow’s feet, the grooves of St Benedict’s cowl, Mary’s hand supporting her baby’s palm, the pallid complexions – this imagery must have been a revelation to an audience used to faces that were symbols rather than distinct people.
Giotto’s expressiveness depended on his draughtsmanship. Assuming its provenance is correct, one of the most precious exhibits here is the Louvre’s drawing “Two Seated Figures” (1305-10). The extraordinarily delicate modelling explains why it was originally attributed to Gentile Bellini – who worked a century later – yet the figures’ squared-up postures are typical of the Trecento master.
The second half of the show aims to prove that Giotto influenced painting across Trecento Italy. His inspiration is most evident in his pupils’ works: the stalwart, pale-skinned “Madonna and Child” (1348-50) by Taddeo Gaddi, the theatrical menace of the taut-armed assassins in Bernardo Daddi’s “Stoning of St Stephen” (1345).
It is a delight to come across gems by barely known masters. Giotto’s
St Francis cycle must have prompted the Assisi-based Puccio Capanna to develop the sense of pathos, rhythm and proportion that infuses his splendid 1335 crucifixion and post-1348 fresco triptych. Only familiarity with the Tuscan’s intimate yet monumental compositions could have inspired the emotional yet expertly choreographed deposition scene by Pietro di Rimini (1325-30).
Equally compelling is the chance to see familiar names in a new light. From the Sienese Simone Martini, whose stylised pomp is usually considered the antithesis of Giotto, comes a St Peter whose anxious brow and tactile robes suggest the influence of Assisi, where Martini decorated a chapel.
Yet this show also reminds you how far Giotto was ahead of his time. His feel for colour, space and gesture suggests the Renaissance is round the corner. Instead, almost a century will pass before Brunelleschi discovers the mathematical models behind space, proportion and perspective that will allow painters to translate those ideas confidently into two dimensions.
In between, artists experimented with Byzantine, Gothic and classical styles, often in the same work. This show’s greatest achievement is in offering a rare voyage through a neglected yet beguiling age.
‘Giotto and the Trecento: the Most Sovereign Master of Painting’ runs until June 29, tel +39 06 678 06 64

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