Showing posts with label Renaissance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Renaissance. Show all posts

Friday, February 7, 2025

A Study in Delusion and Fanaticism—The Bonfire of Vanities Burned Art for Christ

 

Dom Girolamo Savonarola of Florence.

The Bonfire of Vanities was not just a particularly snarky novel by Tom Wolfe or the one of the few movie duds starring Tom Hanks.  It was an event—or more precisely the most famous of a series of events—in Renaissance Italy propagated by elements of the Catholic Church in revulsion against perceived decadence and corruption of the flourishing new culture.

On February 7, 1497, the date of the traditional Mardi Gras festival, crowds whipped up by charismatic Dominican Friar Girolamo Savonarola seized and burned thousands of objects like cosmetics, art, and books in Florence, part of a pattern of defiance of the corruptions of the Church and the Pope himself.

Savonarola can be seen as a forerunner of the Protestant Reformation.  Denouncing clerical hubris, abuse of the poor, and the despotic rule of the Medici, he gathered a fanatical following, especially among the educated young with his promises of new civic glory based on virtue and purity.  

Pope Alexander XI was a Borgia and notorious libertine who lusted for temporal power in Italy was Savonarola's great enemy

It was a time of particular turmoil as Charles VIII of France in 1494 invaded Italy in opposition to Pope Alexander VI and his plans to extend Papal influence and control.  As the mighty French army neared the city Savonarola entered negotiations with the King while his supporters overthrew the Medici and expelled them from the city proclaiming a republic.  He welcomed the French as liberators, defying the direct order of the Pope to join his alliance.  The French, for their part, spared the city from sacking and promised to respect the new republic.

Savonarola was, naturally considered a hero by many.  But Medici and Papal loyalists remained.  To shore up support the Friar staged elaborate public processions and theatrical events both celebrating the new order and promoting purification to earn God’s approval for a New Jerusalem.  The celebrated Bon Fire was the highlight of his movement.  

Florentines Renounce Vanities, a late 91th Century British illustration. 

No one really knows how many great books, musical instruments, paintings, and statues were consigned to the flames along with ostentatious clothing, cosmetics, mirrors, and personal trifles like playing cards.  Some believe the loss to be a cultural catastrophe, while other historians downplay the amount of damage done claiming it was largely symbolic and most fine pieces were either hidden or smuggled out of Florence before the flames could consume them.

Among those caught up in the euphoria of the moment was one of Florence’s leading artists, Sandro Botticelli, who had risen to fame painting allegories from classical mythology, most notably his  stunning The Birth of Venus with its famous nude on the half-shell.  Obviously such themes and sexuality would not be in keeping with Savonarola’s austere piety.  The artist had already moved on to more acceptable themes, particularly various renditions of the Virgin Mary.  The artist may—or may not—have pitched many of his own paintings on the fire.  We do know that for some years he retired from painting all together and was as a result reduced to poverty.  He would later, however, recant his allegiance to Savonarola and regain the patronage of the restored Medici.


Florentine painter  Sandro Botticelli had risen to fame painting allegories from classic mythology.  The Birth of Venus was his most famous work.  But he fell under the sway of Dom Savonarola.  Luckily Venus and many other paintings were hidden or spirited out of the city.  But the artist may have thrown some of his more recent work on the Bonfire.

The French king’s army sliced through Italy with little resistance outside of a couple of stubborn cities which paid heavily for their defiance.  Just weeks after Savonarola’s party in Florence, Charles reached Naples where he claimed the crown of the state that controlled most of southern Italy.  Alarmed by the ease with which Charles had moved, the Pope was able to rally most of the Northern states into the League of Venice.  The idea was to cut off Charles’s return to France with his army and destroy it.  The Republic of Florence had little choice but to formally join the alliance, although under Savonarola’s influence, they never actually committed troops to the Papal force.

After a nasty battle in which he lost most of his loot, Charles got his army safely back to France.  But he had lost Naples already and once friendly northern cities like Florence were coming back into the Papal orbit.

In May of 1497 the Pope formally excommunicated the Friar and threatened to put the city under interdiction unless they surrendered him.  Under pressure from local authorities he withdrew from public preaching and composed a manuscript of justification and a theological reflection, Triumph of the Cross.  Unfortunately for him in it he not only claimed to receive visions from God but hinted that he had been given the power to perform miracles.  Big mistake.  It left him open to the charge of Heresy.

A rival friar and preacher called on Savonarola to prove his innocence by an ordeal by fire.  When another monk and friend volunteered to take the test for him, Savonarola felt he had no choice but to accept the challenge.  On April 7 1497 as he prepared to walk through the fire in the first such ordeal in Florence for 400 years, a rainstorm broke out extinguishing the flames.  As the burden of proof was on him, the crowd took it as a sign that he was guilty.  They attacked his convent.  Savonarola and two other friars were arrested.

Savonarola and two of his Friars were hung and roasted for heresy and schematism.   

On the morning of May 23, 1498, the three friars were led out into the main square where, before a tribunal of high clerics and government officials, they were condemned as heretics and schismatics and sentenced to die.  They were immediately stripped of their Dominican robes down to thin white shirts.  Each ascended to separate gallows on which they were hung with fire burning below them to consume their bodies.  Their ashes were scattered in the Arno River to prevent them from becoming relics for stubborn followers. 

However his partisans remained active as both a religious and political force until the Medici were restored in Florence and the Republic squashed in 1517.

But Savonarola’s idea lived on.  Martin Luther read Triumph of the Cross as did John Calvin.  He was very influential in the briefly flourishing Italian Protestant Reform movement which included the scholars like Faustus Socinus and Giorgio Blandrata who were instrumental in introducing anti-trinitarianism and unitarianism into central and eastern Europe.

On the Catholic side, when it was safe to do so the Dominican Order reclaimed Savonarola and recast him as a benevolent and saintly prophet mostly stripped of his political importance and rougher edges.  Later Catholic reformers would call him the last hope to “prevent the catastrophe of the Reformation.”  And in the 19th Century he would be adopted as a symbol for Italian nationalists and their drive to create a modern nation state.

Savinarola was recast politically as a hero of Italian Republicanism and religiously as the last hope "to prevent the catastrophe" of the Reformation. 

As for the Bonfire business, well, that has been more controversial.  Intellectuals, writers, and artists have looked at it with horror.  As such it has often been referenced directly or indirectly in books, from George Eliot’s Romola to Margaret Atwood’s works which allude to the Bonfire, as in her dystopian novel, The Handmaids Tale.

On the other hand, some have found inspiration in Savonarola’s urge to purge.  In some ways what we have come to think of as 19th Century American Puritanism, especially the obsessive sexual prudery and zeal at suppression of corrupting influences, might be more rightly called Savonarolaism.  Certainly the notorious Anthony Comstock and his Society for the Suppression of Vice are the old Friar’s direct heirs.

And so were and are, whether they know it or not—and most assuredly they do not—all of the modern book burners of whatever stripe.





 

Friday, February 7, 2020

The Bonfire of Vanities —Burning Art for Christ

Dom Girolamo Savonarola of Florence.

The Bonfire of Vanities was not just a particularly snarky novel by Tom Wolfe or the one of the few movie duds starring Tom Hanks.  It was an event—or more precisely the most famous of a series of events—in Renaissance Italy propagated by elements of the Catholic Church in revulsion against perceived decadence and corruption of the flourishing new culture.

On February 7, 1497, the date of the traditional Mardi Gras festival, crowds whipped up by charismatic Dominican Friar Girolamo Savonarola seized and burned thousands of objects like cosmetics, art, and books in Florence, part of a pattern of defiance to the corruptions of the Church and to the Pope himself.

Savonarola can be seen as a forerunner of the Protestant Reformation.  Denouncing clerical hubris, abuse of the poor, and the despotic rule of the Medici, he gathered a fanatical following, especially among the educated young with his promises of new civic glory based on virtue and purity.  


Pope Alexander XI was a Borgia and notorious libertine who lusted for temporal power in Italy was Savonarola's great enemy

It was a time of particular turmoil as Charles VIII of France in 1494 invaded Italy in opposition to Pope Alexander VI and his plans to extend Papal influence and control.  As the mighty French army neared the city Savonarola entered negotiations with the king while his supporters overthrew the Medici and expelled them from the city proclaiming a republic.  He welcomed the French as liberators, defying the direct order of the Pope to join his alliance.  The French, for their part, spared the city from sacking and promised to respect the new republic.

Savonarola was, naturally considered a hero by many.  But Medici and Papal loyalists remained.  To shore up support the Friar staged elaborate public processions and theatrical events both celebrating the new order and promoting purification to earn God’s approval for a New Jerusalem.  The celebrated Bon Fire was the highlight of his movement.  


                                    Florentines Renounce Vanities, a late 91th Century British illustration.

No one really knows how many great books, musical instruments, paintings, and statues were consigned to the flames along with ostentatious clothing, cosmetics, mirrors, and personal trifles like playing cards.  Some believe the loss to be a cultural catastrophe, while other historians downplay the amount of damage done claiming it was largely symbolic and most fine pieces were either hidden or smuggled out of Florence before the flames could consume them.

Among those caught up in the euphoria of the moment was one of Florence’s leading artists, Sandro Botticelli who had risen to fame painting allegories from classical mythology, most notably his  stunning The Birth of Venus with its famous nude on the half-shell.  Obviously such themes and sexuality would not be in keeping with Savonarola’s austere piety.  The artist had already moved on to more acceptable themes, particularly various renditions of the Virgin Mary.  The artists may—or may not—have pitched many of his own paintings on the fire.  We do know that for some years he retired from painting all together and was as a result reduced to poverty.  He would later, however, recant his allegiance to Savonarola and regain the patronage of the restored Medici.


Florentine painter  Sandro Botticelli had risen to fame painting allegories from classic mythology.  The Birth of Venus was his most famous work.  But he fell under the sway of Dom Savonarola.  Luckily Venus and many other paintings were hidden or spirited out ot the city.  But the artist may have thrown some of his more recent work on the Bonfire.

The French king’s army sliced through Italy with little resistance outside of a couple of stubborn cities which paid heavily for their defiance.  Just weeks after Savonarola’s party in Florence, Charles reached Naples where he claimed the crown of the state that controlled most of southern Italy.  Alarmed by the ease with which Charles had moved, the Pope was able to rally most of the Northern states into the League of Venice.  The idea was to cut off Charles’s return to France with his army and destroy it.  The Republic of Florence had little choice but to formally join the alliance, although under Savonarola’s influence, they never actually committed troops to the Papal force.

After a nasty battle in which he lost most of his loot, Charles got his army safely back to France.  But he had lost Naples already and once friendly northern cities like Florence were coming back into the Papal orbit.  

In May of 1497 the Pope formally excommunicated the Friar and threatened to put the city under interdiction unless they surrendered him.  Under pressure from local authorities he withdrew from public preaching and composed a manuscript of justification and a theological reflection, Triumph of the Cross.  Unfortunately for him in it he not only claimed to receive visions from God, but hinted that he had been given the power to perform miracles.  Big mistake.  It left him open to the charge of Heresy.

A rival friar and preacher called on Savonarola to prove his innocence by an ordeal by fire.  When another monk and friend volunteered to take the test for him, Savonarola felt he had no choice but to accept the challenge.  On April 7 1497 as he prepared to walk through the fire in the first such ordeal in Florence for 400 years, a rainstorm broke out extinguishing the flames.  As the burden of proof was on him, the crowd took it as a sign that he was guilty.  They attacked his convent.  Savonarola and two other friars were arrested. 


          Savonarola and two of his Friars were hung and roasted for heresy and schematism. 

On the morning of May 23, 1498, the three friars were led out into the main square where, before a tribunal of high clerics and government officials, they were condemned as heretics and schismatics, and sentenced to die.  They were immediately stripped of their Dominican robes down to thin white shirts.  Each ascended to separate gallows on which they were hung with fire burning below them to consume their bodies.  Their ashes were scattered in the Arno River to prevent them from becoming relics for stubborn followers. 

However his partisans remained active as both a religious and political force until the Medici were restored in Florence and the Republic squashed in 1517.

But Savonarola’s idea lived on.  Martin Luther read Triumph of the Cross as did John Calvin.  He was very influential in the briefly flourishing Italian Protestant Reform movement which included the scholars like Faustus Socinus and Giorgio Blandrata who were instrumental in introducing anti-trinitarianism and unitarianism into central and eastern Europe.

On the Catholic side, when it was safe to do so the Dominican Order reclaimed Savonarola and recast him as a benevolent and saintly prophet mostly stripped of his political importance and rougher edges.  Later Catholic reformers would call him the last hope to “prevent the catastrophe of the Reformation.”  And in the 19th Century he would be adopted as a symbol for Italian nationalists and their drive to create a modern nation state.


Savinarola was recast politically as a hero of Italian Republicanism and religiously as the last hope "to prevent the catastrophe" of the Reformation.

As for the Bonfire business, well, that has been more controversial.  Intellectuals, writers, and artists have looked on it with horror.  As such it has often been referenced directly or indirectly in books from George Eliot’s Romola to Margaret Atwood’s works which allude to the Bonfire, as in her dystopian novel, The Handmaid’s Tale.

On the other hand, some have found inspiration in Savonarola’s urge to purge.  In some ways what we have come to think of as 19th Century American Puritanism, especially the obsessive sexual prudery and zeal at suppression of corrupting influences, might be more rightly called Savonarolaism.  Certainly the notorious Anthony Comstock and his Society for the Suppression of Vice are the old Friar’s direct heirs.

And so were and are, whether they know it or not—and most assuredly they do not—all of the modern book burners of whatever stripe.

Sunday, January 5, 2020

2019-’20 Murfin Winter Holidays Music Festival—The Gloucester Wassail For Twelfth Night

The Gloucester Wassail--Waverly Consort

This evening is Twelfth Night, the eve of the Feast of the Epiphany (more about that tomorrow in the last entry of the Murfin Winter Holidays Music Festival) and the end of the Christmas Season.  In England especially it was one last eruption of gaiety and mirth before the more somber and sacred reflection of the Epiphany—somewhat analogous to Mardis Gras or Carnival before Lent.

17th Century tenants present the wassail bowl to the Lord of the Manner and his family singing to the accompaniment of bagpipe, flutes, horns, and drums.  The Land Lord was expected to reciprocate with meats, puddings, pies, and other drink including ale and gin or brandy.
In the Middle Ages and Renaissance it was the climax of the caroling and street revelry that followed Christmas Day and was marked with dancing, a sexual cavorting—the subject of William Shakespeare’s comedy Twelfth Night— and costumed revelry often evoking the Holy King and semi-pagan masquerades. Mostly it was celebrated by caroling for wassail, a hot mulled wine or cider prepared and served in bowls.  Often a landlord’s peasants and tenants came bearing large wassail bowls for the lord of the manor in exchange for lavish gifts of food and other beverages.  So popular was the beverage and custom that there were a number of songs about it that asked—or demanded—the hospitality of the land lord at whose door the carolers appeared.  The most familiar is the gay Here We Come A-wassailing, But there were several others from different regions of the Realm, each of which might variant local lyrics set to any number of folk tunes.

A 19th Century engraving of the Holly King with a wassail bowl riding the Yule Goat on Twelfth Night
The Gloucester Wassail got its current name because folk song collector Cecil Sharp recalled first hearing it sung by William Bayliss of Buckley and Isaac Bennett of Little Sodbury, both in Gloucestershire.  He set down the lyrics combined from his two sources in his 1916 book English Folk Songs, Collected and Arranged with Pianoforte Accompaniment by Cecil J Sharp.
Earlier versions referenced it first being sung around 1780, but it was probably far older.    Forms of the song were printed in 1838 by William Chappell, 1857 by Robert Bell, and 1868 by William Henry Husk.
Another great folk song collector and arranger, Ralph Vaughn Williams, recorded the melody now most commonly sung in 1909 by an anonymous Gloucester man at the Swan Inn in Pembridge, Herefordshire.  Williams first published the carol with those words in 1913, but when he included the song in his 1928 Oxford Book of Carols he used the words by Sharp. In this form it has become a popular piece in Britain.

Celebrating Twelfth Night in modern Gloucestershire.  The Scottish style tartan kilts are inauthentic to the region, but who cares.
The Gloucester Wassail is one of the most forthright in its demands among its cousins.  The final three verses spell it out frankly:

Come butler, come fill us a bowl of the best
Then we hope that your soul in heaven may rest
But if you do draw us a bowl of the small
Then down shall go butler, bowl and all.
Be here any maids? I suppose here be some;
Sure they will not let young men stand on the cold stone!
Sing hey O, maids! come trole back the pin,
And the fairest maid in the house let us all in.
Then here’s to the maid in the lily white smock
Who tripped to the door and slipped back the lock
Who tripped to the door and pulled back the pin
For to let these jolly wassailers in.

Waverly Consort with Kay (bottom left) and Michael (bottom center) Jaffee.

Today we feature a recording from the Waverly Consort Christmas directed by Michael Jaffee.  The American early music ensemble which specialized in performing music from medieval and Renaissance times helped fuel a surge of interest in early music over the last half century.  It was founded and led by Michael Jaffee and Kay Cross in New York City in 1960 and the two married a year later.  The loose ensemble of from 5 to 12 performers on period instruments often did shows in carefully researched period costume with songs artfully connected by troubadour or bard poetic narration.  The group officially retired in the early 21st Century.  Michael Jaffee died on June 15, 2019 at the age of 81.

Friday, February 23, 2018

Tech Revolutions? None More World Changing than Gutenberg’s

Gutenberg in his Mainz print shop supervising the production of his Bible.


It is hard to imagine the startling changes that Johannes Gutenberg unleashed on the world when on February 23, 1454 he reportedly pulled the first sheets of his new edition of the Bible off his printing press in Mainz, Germany.  It would take two years to finish running off—it that term can be applied to the laborious process—about 160 copies of the 1,272-page book with 4 pages per folio-sheet, 318 sheets, and 636 impressions for each copy.  About three quarters of the volumes were printed on high quality imported Italian paper and the balance on the calf skin vellum still used by scribes making books by hand.
The German craftsman did not invent either printing or moveable type.  The Chinese had been producing documents by printing for centuries and had employed hand cut moveable type at least two hundred years.  Because Chinese is written in pictographs representing whole words, each piece of type represented a word rather than a letter in a word.  While there are thousands of pictographs, only a few hundred were commonly used.  Each image had to be hand carved from wood, but only a few would be required on a single page.
Europeans had long been familiar with the process but ran up against the problem that scores of the same letter had be used on each page and that it took a master craftsman a day or more to carve each individual letter making the production of books unaffordable.
Guttenberg solved this and two other critical problems.  First, he devised a way to cast multiple copies of each letter from molds made from original carvings
The Gutenberg Press--diseptively simple to modern eyes, it was a world changing marvel.
Second, he essentially invented the printing press which allowed uniform impressions to be made from locked and set blocks of type.  Previously images were struck by patting the paper against the type by hand, striking it with mallets, or drawing a wooden blade across the back of the paper.  The new method not only improved the uniform quality of images, it was faster on each sheet.
Finally, Guttenberg experimented until he found an oil-based ink blackened with carbon that also contained high concentrations of metals including lead and copper.  This thick almost tar-like mixture adhered to type, spread evenly under pressure, and dried satisfactorily leaving a sharp black image.  Previous experiments with printing found that the thin water-based ink used by scribes unsuitable.
Guttenberg had been experimenting with these elements for at least five years when he began production of the book to perfect the process.  He had produced single page broadsides, short double or triple folio works, and short prayer bookspamphlets really—before undertaking the massive Bible project.

The British Library has two of 48 known surviving copies of the Guttenberg Bible including this one on carefully proteccted public display.
All his hard work paid off.  The book sold out almost immediately.  Copies went to universities, monasteries, libraries, and public archives across Europe.  The cost—60 Florins for an edition printed on paper and much more for a vellum edition in special hand-tooled bindings—was far beyond most individual purses.  In fact, only one is known to have been purchased and kept by a single person, although very wealthy individuals bought copies as pious gifts for institutions.  Still, this was much less than the cost of a hand inscribed and illuminated volume from a monastery scribe.  And the quality was excellent.  The best velum editions were even decorated with hand color illumination as well.  
Guttenberg’s success spawned imitators and competitors.  Within decades a small printing industry sprang up, first centered in Germany then spreading across the continent.  With the supply of books suddenly increasing, literacy took an upswing as well.
With literacy moving beyond a small circle of clerics, scribes, court functionaries, clerks, and physicians to the new growing class of Burgers—the merchants, master craftsmen, and guild members who were gaining influence in the cities of plague depopulated Europe—big social changes were in the offing.
The first were religious.  The Bible fell for the first time into the hands of laymen who could read and interpret it on their own.  What many discovered was at variance with what the Church had been teaching.  Result—a little something called the Reformation.  Within a hundred years men and women were being burned at the stake for books they wrote or read.

Printing, books, and literacy all spread with astonishing speed.  By 1500 there about 10 million books had been printed in Europe.
And of the making of books, there seemed no end.  Soon other topics were being covered.  The new printing presses of Europe eagerly disseminated the news of voyages of discovery around Africa to the Orient and across the Atlantic to a New World.  Works on philosophy re-introduced the ideas of Aristotle and Plato then expanded on themObservation and inquiry into the natural world increased.  The very heavens opened up.  The songs and poems of bards and minstrels were finding their way to printed pages and popular literature in national languages—the vernacular--was springing up.  Result—the Renaissance. 
Within two hundred years literacy had spread to the level of journeymen mechanics, petty shop keepers, professional soldiers, mariners, and was virtually universal among the gentle classes.  Result—the Enlightenment and political and social turmoil.
If this seems like a long time to us who have seen revolutions in communications come and go like revolving doors in our lifetimes, it was but a trice in the long history of humanity on the globe.
To paraphrase the father of a latter communications breakthrough, “What Guttenberg hath wrought.”