The Subject: The story of Erminia is recounted in
Jerusalem Delivered, Torquato Tasso's epic poem of the First Crusade published in 1581 (VII, xix). Having fallen in love with the Christian knight Tancredi and having fled to the forest after being attacked by soldiers, Princess Erminia takes refuge with shepherds. There, "when underneath the greenwood shade / Her flocks lay hid from Phoebus’ scorching rays, / Unto her knight she songs and sonnets made, / And them engraved in bark of beech and bays . . . . " (trans. Edward Fairfax, London, 1600). In the picture she is shown carving on the trunk of a tree. Interestingly, above her—out of reach—are two letters that the artist drew in ink: apparently "I N".
The Picture and its Attribution: The picture, frequently described as "unfinished," is of unusual interest and importance for our understanding of the transformations in landscape painting in early seventeenth-century Rome—a period in which a renewed attention to the study of nature and an interest in the effects of light at various times of day intersected with the Venetian tradition of an idealized pastoral landscape. Northern painters played a conspicuous role in this story: the Fleming Paul Bril (1554–1626), who enjoyed enormous prestige in Rome, where he worked from 1583 onward; the German Adam Elsheimer (1578–1610), whose exquisite, small-scale landscapes lay new ground and were enormously influential; another German, Goffredo Wals (1595–1638; see
1997.157), who built on the example of Elsheimer; and the Frenchman Claude Lorrain (1604/5?–1682), one of the greatest landscape painters of Western art. Claude spent time with Wals; both artists had worked with the Italian Agostino Tassi (1578–1644), who was prominent as an expert in architectural perspective (
quadratura) and in landscape painting (these two aspects of his work come together in his decorations for a room in Palazzo Odescalchi, then the property of Cardinal Ludovisi; see Cavazzini 2008, pp. 57–59). Thus it is not surprising that this enchanting panel has been ascribed alternatively to both Tassi and Claude (see References).
Technical Features: The picture is on a poplar panel one inch thick. The composition was laid in very summarily with a brush drawing in ink. The preparatory drawing (or underdrawing) can be seen in places through the paint but is only modestly enhanced by infrared reflectography since it is evidently in bistre or iron gall (see figs. 1–4 above). This technique is analogous to what is found in the informal nature studies that Tassi and Claude carried out in ink on paper: quick, calligraphic, with very little modeling. In the picture, the outline of the distant mountain is easily detected, as are a few scalloped lines for the clouds, loops for the backs of the sheep; long lines for the trees—where there is some occasional curved hatching to indicate modeling (visible especially in the trunk of the tree to the far right); and indications for the foliage (best seen above the horizon at the far right). Analogies for the draftsmanship may be found in the graphic output of both Tassi and Claude. However, where those artists—and particularly Claude—would have then proceeded with ink washes to describe the play of light over the features of the landscape, here color was laid on in broadly brushed bands. At the right, the green was brushed in a vertical direction with almost no modeling. Elsewhere, as in the middle ground, the brushstrokes are horizontal and describe a succession of planes. The figure of Erminia was painted over the landscape—as though an interpolation to give what was a pure landscape view a classical subject. The figure is notable both for the summary treatment and the beautiful suggestion of light playing over the back of her neck and illuminating her arm. By contrast, the foliage of the trees is more densely painted and may properly be described as "finished." Everything else remains in a state that is perhaps best described as informal. There is, in other words, no reason to think that it was the artist’s intention to bring the work to a higher degree of finish, and to describe it as "unfinished"—signifying "incomplete"—is in this sense a misnomer.
Claude and Plein-Air Painting in Seventeenth-Century Rome: The rapid, summary execution brings to mind two famous remarks regarding Claude’s study of nature. The first occurs in Joachim Sandrart’s biography (
Der Teutschen Academie zweyter Theil, 1675) in which he recounts how Claude "tried by every means to penetrate nature, lying in the fields before the break of day and until night in order to learn to represent very exactly the red morning-sky, sunrise and sunset and the evening hours. When he had well contemplated one or the other in the fields, he immediately prepared his colours accordingly, returned home and applied them to the work he had in mind with much greater naturalness than anyone had ever done." Later, after meeting Sandrart, Claude took up "painting from life in the field. But while I was only looking for good rocks, trunks, trees, cascades, buildings, and ruins which were great and suited me as a fillers for history paintings, he on the other hand only painted, on a small scale, the view from the middle to the greatest distance, fading away towards the horizon and the sky, a type in which he was a master . . . ." (translation: Marcel Röthlisberger,
Claude Lorrain: The Paintings, New Haven, 1961, vol. 1, p. 48). The other remark was made on the occasion of a visit in August of 1647 by André Félibien, who records in his journal that "I saw Claude Lorrain and his small landscapes painted in tempera (
détrempe) on wood. First it is necessary to put on a very delicate layer of glue (
colle de gand), then paint, the colors having been diluted in the glue; or, alternatively, take an egg—the yoke and white—with a bit of vinegar and the same amount of water and the sap from the branches of a fig tree, and beat them together, and use this instead of the glue, gum Arabic (
la gomme) not being good [for this purpose] because everything will curdle" (see Y. Delaporte, "André Félibien en italie,"
Gazette des beaux-arts 51 [April 1958], pp. 205–6; discussed in Rand 2011, p. 47). It was Félibien’s remark, evidently inspired by his curiosity at an unusual technique, that led Röthlisberger (1983) to attribute The Met’s picture to Claude and to date it to 1647, though on stylistic grounds a dating in the 1630s seems more likely. Cavazzini (2008), who has argued that the picture is more likely to be by Tassi, dates it to about 1632, and this seems more or less convincing regardless of which of the two artists is held responsible. The technique would appear to be one Claude adapted from painting on paper. Perhaps not coincidentally, it was in the years around 1630 that Sandrart and Claude met and that Claude adopted his practice of painting outside. Röthlisberger has noted that Claude’s post mortem inventory lists eight small pictures on panel; the only other work on panel ascribed to him is a
Flight into Egypt in the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, Williamstown.
The Attribution: The relevance of these accounts is of great interest for our evaluation of this landscape as well as, obviously, for the history of plein air landscape painting. The picture might be understood as reflecting this early practice of studying nature and then rushing back to the studio to record those impressions. Whether Tassi, like Claude, embraced this practice is not known, but there is no reason to think that he did not. If the landscape with a scene of witchcraft in the Walters Art Gallery, Baltimore is by Tassi, as seems to be the case, then he was capable of works of this quality. A drawing related in subject and penmanship in the Harvard Art Museums (1979.231) comes from an album of Tassi’s and supports an attribution of The Met’s picture to Tassi rather than to Claude (see Patrizia Cavazzini, "Agostino Tassi Reassessed: A Newly Discovered Album of Drawings,"
Paragone 51, July 2000, p. 20; also see fig. 5). See also The Met’s drawing by Tassi:
2008.178.8.
Keith Christiansen 2019
