Shadows
of the Past
The Bartolini Collection at Florence's Accademia Museum |
The
week after my talk at the British Institute’s Harold Acton Library on 3
December, I visited the Charles Cecil
Studios in Florence, where wonderful work is being done in the legacy
of Charles’ mentor R. H. Ives Gammell and his
forebears. On my way to the train later in the afternoon I stopped by the
Accademia Museum, happily relatively empty at this time of year. After the
monumental Michelangelo work, the room of
Bartolini casts had new resonance for me, with its recollection of the Romanelli casts connected to
the Cecil Studios in Borgo San Frediano.
Casts
have become, in the contemporary parlance, “a thing;” there is a site dedicated
to them qua artifacts:
The Passagli Collection on Display at Lucca's Palazzo Ducale |
Once
upon a time casts were models of excellence, the choicest examples of ancient
and modern sculpture available in 3D for students, like the Passaglia
collection at Lucca’s liceo artistico:
But
at some point in the second half of the nineteenth century, they became white
forms with complex shadows and reflected lights to be drawn meticulously in the academies;
they were no longer models to aspire to, paragons of Bellori’s l’Idea
del Bello, but merely forms in light to serve aspiring drawing
students. That, in the end, is the difference between classicism and realism:
the extent to which casts are 1. ideal models to imitate and emulate, and 2.
more than stable figures without color. The casts are back after their
near-eradication in the middle of the twentieth century, in particular at the
many ateliers and
so-called academies that have sprouted in the last two decades; but
are they, in a paraphrase of the title of Michael Baxandall’s
book, shadows or enlightenment?
POSTSCRIPT: The V&A's cast collection recently reopened, the media have their usual nonsensical take on things:
"Originally opened in 1873, the galleries were conceived as a definitive
collection of great works from Europe, full-size fragments of exotic
cathedrals and palaces, duplicated in London for all to see. It was an
aristocratic grand tour for the armchair explorer, conveniently
compressed into two rooms."
I'm sorry, but who ever entered the V&A's cast gallery and was deceived into thinking he had been transported to Florence, or thought that the Florentines had sold the David to the British? I suppose calling them "fakes" imparts an edge of, well, edginess that The Guardian is expected to deliver to its readers. Never mind the reality, here's the past.... Plus, the casts were, technically, not "duplicated in London" but in Paris, where some of the greatest casters were. And aristocrats still went on actual Grand Tours to Florence itself. Whatever.
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