The History of Art
GA 292
1 November 1916, Dornach
II. Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael
In our last lecture we showed the period of Art which finally merged into that of the great masters of the Renaissance. We ended by revealing the connecting threads in the artistic world of feeling, which finally led up to what was so wondrously united in Leonardo, in Michelangelo and in Raphael. Yet at the same time, in these three masters we must also see the starting point of the new age, in an artistic sense. It is the dawn of the 5th post-Atlantean age, which is heralded in the realm of Art. All three were living, at the beginning of the 5th post-Atlantean age. Leonardo was born in 1452, Michelangelo in 1475 and Raphael in 1483; Leonardo dies in 1519, Raphael in 1520, and Michelangelo in 1564. Here we find ourselves at the starting point of the new age. At the same time, something is contained in these artists which we must undoubtedly regard as a culmination of the spiritual stream of preceding ages, inasmuch as they poured their impulses into the realm of Art. It is true, my dear friends, that in our time people have little understanding for what is important in this respect, for in our time—I do not say this as mere criticism—art has been far too much expelled from the spiritual life as a whole. It is even considered a failing of the historian or critic, if he seeks once more to give Art its place in the spiritual life as a whole. People say that our attention is thus diverted unduly from the artistic or aesthetic impulses as such, attaching an excessive value to the content, to the subject-matter, and yet, this need not be the case at all. Indeed, it is only in our own time that this distinction has acquired so much importance. It had no such direct significance in former epochs—epochs when the artistic understanding was more developed in the ordinary common sense of the people. We must not forget how much has been done to extirpate a true artistic understanding by all the atrocities which have been placed before the human mind of men in recent times, by way of pictorial representation and the like. True understanding for the manner of representation has been lost. European humanity, in a certain sense, no longer cares how a given subject-matter is presented to it. In wide circles, artistic understanding has to a large extent been lost.
Speaking of former epochs, and especially of the epoch to which we are now referring, we may truly say artists such as Raphael, Michelangelo and Leonardo were by no means one-sidedly artistic, but carried in their souls the whole of the spiritual life of their time and created out of this. In saying this, I do not mean that they borrowed their subject-matter from the spiritual life of their time. I mean far more than this. Into the specifically artistic quality of their creation, in form and colouring, there flowed the specific quality of the world-conception of that time. In our time, a world-conception is a collection of ideas which can, of course, be represented in sculpture or in painting and it is frequently embodied, needless to say, in forms and colours and the like which to the true artistic sense will nevertheless be an atrocity. In this respect, unfortunately, we must repeatedly utter warnings, even within our anthroposophical stream of evolution. The feeling for what is truly artistic is not always prevalent among us. I still remember with a shudder how at the beginning of the theosophical movement in Germany a man once came to me in Berlin, bringing with him reproductions of a picture he had painted. The subject was: Buddha under the Bodhi Tree. It is true there sat a huddled figure under a tree, but the man—if you will pardon me the apt expression—understood as little of Art as an ox, having eaten grass throughout the week, understands of Sunday. He simply thought, here is the subject; let us paint it, and it will represent a work of Art. Of course, it represented something. Namely, he who imagined the scene to himself—“Buddha under the Bodhi Tree”—could see it so, no doubt. But there was absolutely no reason why such a thing should ever have been painted.
It is a very different thing when we say of Leonardo, Michelangelo and Raphael, that they bore within them the whole way of feeling which permeated the Italian civilisation of their time. For this civilisation entered livingly into the artistic quality of their work, into their whole manner of presentation; nor can we fully understand these artists if we have no feeling for the civilisation in the midst of which they lived. Today, indeed, people believe the most extraordinary things. They will believe, for instance, that a man can build a Gothic church even if he has not the remotest notion of High Mass. Of course, he cannot do so in reality. Or they believe that one can paint the Trinity even if one has no feeling for what is intended to be living in it. In this way, Art is expelled from its living connection with the spiritual life as a whole. At the same time, on the other hand, people fail to understand the artistic element as such, imagining that with aesthetic views and feelings which happen to be prevalent today they can set to work and criticize Raphael or Michelangelo or Leonardo, whose whole way of feeling was quite different. It was only natural (though I should need many hours to say in full what should be said on this point), it was only natural for them to be living in the whole way of feeling of their time. We cannot understand their creative work unless we understand the character which Christianity had assumed at the time when these artists blossomed forth. You need only remember that at the end of the 15th and beginning of the 16th century Italian Christianity witnessed the rise even among the Popes, of men who truly cannot be said to have satisfied even the most rudimentary demands of morality, nor need one be in any way a pietist to say so. And, of course, the whole army of priests were of like character. The idea that a specific moral impulse must be living in what goes by the name of “Christian” had been lost sight of, comparatively speaking. And when in later times it emerged again—in pietist and moralising forms, by no means identical with what I described the other day when speaking of St. Francis,—it was imbued with quite a different feeling of Christianity than inspired those who lived, for instance, under an Alexander VI, a Julius II or a Leo X. If, on the other hand, we consider the Christian traditions, the concepts and ideas (and when I say ideas I include “Imaginations”) connected with the Mystery of Golgotha, we find them still living in the souls with an intensity of which the man of today has little notion. Human souls lived in the ideas connected with the Mystery of Golgotha, as in a world that was their very own, and they saw Nature herself in the midst of this same world. We need but call to mind: In that time, even for the most educated, this Earth, of which the Western half was still unknown (or was only just beginning to be known and was not fully really reckoned with),—this Earth was the centre of the whole Universe. Going down beneath the surface of the Earth, one found a subterranean kingdom; going but a little way above, a super-earthly. We might almost say, it was as though a man only need lift his arm, to grasp with his hand the feet of the heavenly beings. Heaven still penetrated down into the earthly element. Such was the conception—a harmony, an interplay of the spiritual above and the Earth beneath it, with the world of the senses which contained mankind. Even their view of Nature was in this spirit.
Those, however, among whom we find the three great masters of the Renaissance were striving forth from yonder age. And the one who harbours within him, as in a seed, all that came forth since then—nay, much that is still destined to come forth,—that one is Leonardo. The soul of Leonardo was equally inclined to the feelings of the former time and of the latter. His soul had most decidedly a Janus head. By his education, by the habits of his life, by all that he had seen, he lived with his feelings still in the olden time. Yet he had a mighty impulse to that conception of the world which only came forth in the succeeding centuries. He had an impulse, not so much towards its width as to its depth. From various indications in my other lectures, you know that the Greeks—and even the men of later times during the 4th Post-Atlantean age—knew life quite differently than we do,—that is to say, out of a different source of knowledge. The sculptor, for example, knew the human figure from within—from a perception of the forces that were at work within himself, the forces which we today describe in Anthroposophy as the etheric. Out of this inner feeling of the human figure the Greek artist created. In course of time this faculty was lost. Another faculty now had to appear: the power to take hold of things with outward vision. Man felt impelled to feel and understand external Nature. I showed you last time, how Francis of Assisi was among the first who sought to perceive Nature through a deep life of feeling. Now Leonardo was the first who endeavoured in a wider sense to add to this feeling of Nature, a conscious understanding of Nature. Because it was no longer given to him, as to the men of former ages, to trace from within outward the forces that are at work in man, he tried to know these things by contemplation from without. He tried to know by outward vision what could no longer be made known by inward feeling. An understanding of Nature as against a feeling for Nature: this is what distinguishes Leonardo da Vinci from Francis of Assisi, and this determines the whole constitution of his spirit. He was all out to understand. And though we need not take it word for word—for the sources, as a rule, relate only the current legends—nevertheless, the legends themselves were founded upon fact, and there is truth in it when we are told how Leonardo took especial pains to study characteristic faces, so that by dint of outward contemplation the working of the formative forces of the human organism might become his own inner experience. Often he would follow a character about for days and days, so that the human being might become as if transparent to him, revealing how the inner being works into the outer form. Yes, there is truth in this,—and that he invited peasants to his house and set before them tasty dishes or told them stories, so that their faces assumed every possible expression of laughter and contortion and he could study them. All this is founded upon fact. And when he had to paint a Medusa he brought all manner of toads and reptiles into his studio, to study the characteristic animal faces. These are legendary anecdotes; and yet they truly indicate how Leonardo had to seek, to discover the mysterious creation of Nature's forces. For Leonardo was truly a man who sought to understand Nature. He tried in an even wider sense to understand the forces of Nature as they play their part in human life. He was no mere artist in the narrower sense of the word; the artist in him grew out of the whole man, standing in the very midst of the turning-point of time. The church of San Giovanni in Florence had sunk a little, owing to a subsidence of the soil. He wished to raise it again—a task that could easily be carried out today; but in that time such a thing was considered absolutely hopeless. He wanted to have it raised bodily, as it stood. Nowadays, as has justly been observed, it would only be a question of the cost; in his time it was an idea of genius, for no one beside Leonardo thought such a thing was possible. He also thought of constructing machines whereby men would be able to fly through the air; and of irrigating great areas of swamp. He was an engineer, a mechanic, a musician, a cultured man in social intercourse, a scientist according to his time. He constructed apparatus so unheard-of in that age that no one else could make anything of them. What poured into his artist's hand was working, therefore, from a many-sided understanding of the world. Of Leonardo we can truly say, he bore his whole Age within him, even as it came to expression in the profound external changes which were then enacted in Italy. Leonardo's whole life—his artistic life included—bears the stamp of this his fundamental character. In spite of the fact that he grew out of the Italian environment, he was not altogether at home there. True, he was a Florentine, but he spent only his youth in Florence, and then went on to Milan, having been summoned thither by the Duke Ludovico Sforza—sommoned by no means (as we might naively imagine) as the great artist whom we recognise in him today, but as a kind of court entertainer. From the skull of a horse, Leonardo constructed an instrument of music, from which he enticed various notes, and was thus able with great humour to entertain the ducal house. We need not say that he was intended as a kind of “fool,” but as an entertainer to amuse the Court, most certainly. The works of Art which he produced in Milan, to which we shall presently refer, were certainly created out of the very deepest impulse of his own being. But he had not been summoned to the Court of the Sforza's for this purpose; and though he entered well into all the life at Milan, we find him afterwards, on his return to Florence, working at a battle-picture, intended to glorify a victory over Milan. Then we see him end his life at the French Court.
The one dominating impulse in Leonardo is to see and feel what interests the human being of his time; the political events, complicated as they were, more or less swept past him. He only skimmed off them, as it were, the uppermost and human layer. Indeed, in many respects he rather gives us the impression of an adventurer, albeit one endowed with colossal genius. He bears his whole Age within him; and out of this feeling of his Age as a whole, his creations arise. We shall present them not in chronological but in a freely chosen order, for in Leonardo the main point is to see how he creates out of a single impulse, and for this reason the chronological sequence is less important.
An altogether different nature, though possessing the characteristics of the Renaissance in common with him, was Michelangelo. If we can say of Leonardo that he bore the whole forces of his time within him (and for this very reason often came into disharmony with it and remained misunderstood, just because he understood it in its depths, in the forces that only found their way to the surface during later centuries), of Michelangelo, on the other hand, we may say: he bore within him, above all, the Florence of his time. What was the Florence of his time? It was, in a sense, a true concentration of the existing order of the world. This Florence he bore within him. Unlike Leonardo, he did not stand remote from political affairs. The complicated political events around him—and the whole world-order of that time played into these politics—entered again and again into the soul of Michelangelo. And when again and again he went to Rome, he bore his Florence with him, and painting and sculpting a Florentine element into the Roman setting. Leonardo bore a universal feeling into the works he created; Michelangelo carried a Florentine feeling into Rome. As an artist he achieved a kind of spiritual conquest over Rome, making Florence arise again in Rome.
Thus Michelangelo entered intensely into all that was taking place through the political conditions in Florence during his long life. We see this in the succession of his life-periods. As a young man, when his career was only just beginning, he witnessed the reign of the great Medici, whose favourite he was, and by whose favour he was enabled to partake in all that the Florence of that time could offer to a man's spiritual life. Whatever of ancient Art and artistry was then available, Michelangelo studied it under the protectorate of the Medici; and it was here that he produced his earliest work. Indeed, he loved his protector, and grew together in his own soul with the soul-nature of the Medici. But presently he had to realise that the sons of his patron were of quite a different kind. He who had done so much for Florence—out of an ambitious disposition, it is true, yet cultivating largesse and freedom—died in 1492; and his sons proved themselves more or less common tyrants. Michelangelo had to experience this change in comparatively early youth. Whereas at the beginning of his career the mercantile spirit of the Medici had allowed free play to Art, he must now witness this mercantile spirit itself masquerading as a political spirit, and striving towards tyranny. Yes, he witnessed on a small scale the rise in Florence of what was afterwards to take hold of all the world. It was a terrible experience for him, and yet not unconnected with the whole surrounding world of the new Age. It was now that he first went to Rome, and we may say: In Rome he mourns the loss of what he has experienced as the true greatness of Florence. We can even recognise how the plastic quality of his work is connected with this great change in his feelings: Into the very line we notice what the political changes in Florence had brought about in his soul. Any one who has a deeper feeling for such things will see in the Pieta in the Vatican a work which in the last resort is born out of the mourning soul of Michelangelo—Michelangelo mourning for the city of his fathers.
Then, when better times returned and he went back to Florence, he stood once more under a new impression. He felt uplifted in his soul,—Freedom had entered into Florence once again. He poured out this new feeling into the indescribably great figure of his David. It is not the traditional David of the Bible. It is the protest of free Florence against the encroaching principle of “great powers,” of mighty States. Its colossal character is connected with this very feeling.
Again, when he was summoned by Pope Julius to decorate the Sistine Chapel, now in a far fuller sense than before, he bore his Florence with him into Rome. What was it that he bore with him? It was a whole world-conception, of which we can say that it shows the rise of the new age, just as truly as we can say, on the other hand, that in the works of Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel, representing the creation of the World and the great process of Biblical history, we have the twilight of an ancient world-conception. Thus Michelangelo carries with him a whole world to Rome,—carries with him something that could never have arisen at that time in Rome itself, but that could only arise in Florence: the idea of one mighty cosmic process with all the Prophetic gifts and Sibylline faculties of man. You will find further explanations on these things in earlier lectures. These inner connections could only be felt and realised in Florence. What Michelangelo experienced through all the spiritual life that had reached its height in the Florence of that time, cannot, in truth, be felt today, unless we transplant ourselves through Spiritual Science into former epochs. Hence the usual histories of Art contain so many absurdities at this point. A man can only create as Michelangelo created if he believes in these things and lives in their midst. It is easy for a man to say that he will paint the world's creation. Many a modern artist would credit himself, no doubt, with this ability,—but one who has true feeling will not be able to assent. No one can paint the evolution of the world who does not live in it, like Michelangelo, with all his being.
But when he returned once more to Florence, he was already driven, after all, by the new stream, which—to put it bluntly—replaces the sacramental by the commercial character. True, he was destined still to create the most wonderful works, in the Medici Chapel. But in the background of this undertaking was an element which could not but inspire him with melancholy feelings. The purpose was the glorification of the Medici. It was they who mattered,—who in the meantime had become powerful, albeit less in Florence than in the rest of Italy. Then once more the political changes drove him back. The betrayal of the Malatestas, their penetration into Florence, drove him back again to Rome. And now he painted, as it were, into the Last Judgment, the protest of a Florentine, the great protest of humanity, of the human individual against all that would oppose it. Hence the real human greatness of his Last Judgment, the greatness which it undoubtedly breathed forth, as it proceeded from his hand. For now, also, parts of it have been completely spoiled.
But he still had to undergo experiences which entered very, very deep into all the impulses of feeling in his soul. How many events had he not experienced, how much did they not signify for the development of his picture of the world: For the things I have indicated were of great importance to him. They may be taken abstractly today, but in the soul of Michelangelo they worked without a doubt as very deep soul-impulses. But we must add that I have mentioned the fact that he witnessed, too, the great change which came over Florence through the appearance of Savonarola. This was a protest within the life of the Church against what was characteristic of that time in Christianity. So free an Art as was developed in Leonardo and in many others like him could only unfold in this way inasmuch as the ideas of Christianity were lifted out of their context and taken by themselves. I mean the ideas connected with the Mystery of Golgotha—the conception of the Trinity, of the Last Supper, of the connection between the earthly and the spiritual realms, and so forth. All these conceptions, lifted right out of the moral element, assumed a free imaginative character which the artist dealt with at his pleasure, treating it like any worldly subject, with the only difference that it contained, of course, the sacred figures. These things had been objectified, loosed from the moral element; and thus the Christian thought, loosed from the moral element, slid over by and by into a purely artistic sphere. All this took place quite as a matter of course, and the gradual elimination of the moral element was a natural concomitant of the whole process. Savonarola represents the great protest against this elimination of the moral element. Savonarola appears; it is the protest of the moral life against an Art that was free of morals,—I do not say, void of morals, but free. Indeed, we must study Savonarola's will if we would understand in Michelangelo himself what was due to Savonarola's influence.
But this was not all. You must imagine Michelangelo as a man who in his inmost heart and mind could never think in any other than a Christian way. He not only felt as a Christian; he conceived the order of the World in mighty pictures, in the Christian sense. Imagine him placed in the midst of that time, when the Christian conceptions had, as it were, become objectified and could thus slide so easily into the realms of Art. Such was the world in which he lived. But he experienced withal the Northern protest of the Reformation, which spread with comparative speed, even to Italy; and he also witnessed the great and revolutionary change which was accomplished from the Catholic side as a counter-Reformation, against the Reformation. He experienced the Rome of his time,—a time whose moral level may not have been high, but in which there were free and independent spirits, none the less, who were decidedly agreed to give a new form to Catholicism. They did not want to go so far as Savonarola, nor did they want it to assume the form which afterwards came forth in the Reformation. They wanted to change and recreate Catholicism by continuous progress and development. Then the Reformation burst in like another edition, so to speak, of the Savonarola protest. Rome was seized with anxiety and fear, and they parted from what had pulsated through their former life. Michelangelo among others had built his hopes on such ideas as were concentrated, for example, in Vittoria Colonna, hoping to permeate with high ethical principles what had reached so great a height in Art. With a Catholicism morally recreated and renewed, they hoped to permeate the world once more. Now, however, there arose the great Roman powers, the strong Catholic ideas, the Jesuitical principle, and Paul IV became the Pope. What Michelangelo was now to witness must have been terrible for him, for he saw the seeds of an absolute break with what had still been known to him as Christianity. It was the beginning of Jesuitical Christianity. And so he entered on the twilight of his life.
Michelangelo, as I said, had carried Florence into Rome. With Raphael once again it was different. Of Raphael we may say, he carried Urbino—East-Central Italy to Rome. Here we come to that strange magic atmosphere whose presence we feel when we contemplate the minor artists of that region whence Raphael grew forth. Consider the creations of these artists—the sweet and tender faces, the characteristic postures of the feet, the attitude of the figures. We might describe it thus: Here there arose artistically somewhat later what had arisen earlier in a moralising and ascetic sphere in Francis of Assisi. It enters here into artistic feeling and creation, and leaves a strangely magic atmosphere—this tenderness in contemplating man and Nature. In Raphael it is a native quality, and he continues to express it through his life. This is the feeling which he carries into Rome; it flows from his creations into our hearts and minds if we transplant ourselves into the character they once possessed, for as pictures they have to a great extent been spoilt.
What Raphael thus bears within his soul, having evolved in the lonely country of Urbino, stnads, as it were, alone within the time; and yet taking its start from Raphael, it spread far and wide into the civilisation of mankind. It is as though Raphael with this element were carried everywhere upon the waves of time, and wheresoever he goes he makes it felt—this truly artistic expression of the Christian feeling. This element is everywhere poured out over the influence of Raphael.
Summing up, therefore, we may say: Leonardo lives in the midst of a large and universal understanding. He strikes us, stings us, as it were, into awakeness with his keen World-understanding. Michelangelo lives in the policical understanding of his time; this becomes the dominant impulse of his feeling. Raphael, on the other hand, remaining more or less untouched by all these things, is borne, as it were, upon the waves of time, and bears into the evolution of the ages a well-nigh inexpressible quality of Christian Art. This, then, distinguishes and at once unites the three great masters of the Renaissance; they represent three elements of the Renaissance feeling, as it appears to us historically.
Let us now give ourselves up to the impressions of Leonardo's works. We will first show some of his drawings, which reveal how he creates his forms out of that keen understanding of Nature which I sought to characterise just now. Thereafter, not quite in the historic order, we shall show those of his pictures which have the character of portraits. Only then will we go on to his chief creation, the “Last Supper,” Finally, we shall return and show him once more at his real starting-point. The first picture is a well-known Self-portrait.
This, then, is one of Leonardo's portraits. There follows the other one, still better known.
Here we have a picture from an early period of his development, showing how Leonardo grew out of the School of Verrocchio. Tradition has it that the finely elaborated landscape round this figure here was painted by Leonardo in the School of Verrocchio, and that Verrocchio, seeing what Leonardo could achieve, laid down his brush and would paint no more.
Here, again, you see how Leonardo drew—how he tried, even to the point of caricature, to extract the characteristic features by dint of studious contemplation, as I described just now.
We need not imagine that he stood alone in things like this; they had, indeed, been done by others in his time. Leonardo only stands out through his extraordinary genius, but it was altogether a quest of the time—this search for the strong characteristic features, as against what had come forth in earlier times from higher vision and had grown a mere tradition. It was characteristic of that time to seek for what appears directly to external vision, and thus bring out with emphasis whatever in the outward features of a being is most significant of individual character.
Far more important than the subject-matter, the point was to study and portray with precision the positions of the bones and so forth.
This is the portrayal of a thunderstorm.
The two pictures we now show are not attributed to him with certainty, nor are some others which we shall see presently, but they bear the character of Leonardo and are therefore not without connection.
In this famous picture we see the other aspect of Leonardo, where we might say he seeks to attain the very opposite pole from what was illustrated in the former sketches. There he tried to discover and bring out with emphasis the individual and characteristic in all details. People will often not believe that an artist who can create such a work as the Mona Lisa has any need of going in the other direction to the point of caricature. I have, however, often drawn attention to this fact. Think of the inherently natural impulse whereby our friend the Poet, Christian Morgenstern, went from his sublime, serene creations to the humorous poems with which we are familiar, where he seeks the very extremes of caricature. There is this inner connection in the artist's soul. If he desires to create a work so inwardly complete, harmonious, serene as this, he often has to seek the faculties he needs for such creation by emphasising characteristic individual features even to the point of caricature.
These pictures, which, as I said, are not in historic order, represent Leonardo in the quality of an artist seeking for inner clarity, completeness and perfection.
Here is the Dionysos figure, the God Dionysos. You will find indications on these matters in various other lectures. The painting is based on proven designs and sketches of Leonardo da Vinci. However, it is believed that it was carried out by an unknown student from the workshop of Leonardo and between 1683 and 1693 it was modified and painted to represent Bacchus.
We now come to the Last Supper—which he created, it is true, at an earlier time, and worked upon during a long period. We have often spoken of it. We know what an essential progress in the artistic power of expression is visible in this picture as against the earlier pictures of the Last Supper by Ghirlandajo and others. Observe the life in this picture; see how strongly the individual characters come out in spite of the powerful unity of composition. This is the new thing in Leonardo. The adaptation of the strong individual characters to the composition as a whole is truly wonderful. At the same time each of the four groups of disciples becomes a triad complete and self-contained; and, again, each of these triads is marvellously placed into the whole. The colour and lighting are inexpressibly beautiful. I spoke once before of the part of the colouring in this composition. Here we look deep into the mysterious creative powers of Leonardo. If we try to feel the colours of the picture as a whole, we feel they are distributed in such a way as to supplement one another,—not actually as complementary colours, but in a similar way,—so much so that when we look at the whole picture at once, we have pure light—the colours together are pure light. Such is the colouring in this picture.
We now come to the details of the picture. This is generally considered to be an earlier attempt at the Head of Christ. These reproductions are familiar.
This is Morghan's engraving, from which we gain a more accurate conception of the composition than from the present picture at Milan, which is so largely ruined. You are, of course, familiar with the fate of this picture, of which we have so often spoken.
This is a very recent engraving,—a reproduction which reveals the most minute study. It is frequently admired and yet, perhaps, for one who loves the original as a work of art, it leads too far afield into a sphere of minute and detailed drawing. Still we may recognise in this an independent artistic achievement of considerable beauty.
Here we have a fragment of the battle picture projected by Leonardo, which I mentioned a short while ago.
We will now go on to Michelangelo. Considering Leonardo once again, you will see there is something in him which comes out especially when, instead of taking the chronological order, which is in any case a little uncertain, we take his work in groups, as we have done just now. Then we see clearly what different streams are living in him. The one, which comes out especially in his Last Supper, aims at a peculiar quality of composition combined with an intense delineation of character. It stands apart and alongside of that other tendency in which he does not seek this kind of composition. This other _stream we find expressed in the pictures in the Louvre, and at St, Petersburg and London, which we showed before the Last Supper. It might have come forth at any time; one feels it is almost by chance that the pictures of this kind do not exist from every period in his life. That which comes to expression in these pictures is in no way reminiscent of the peculiar composition in the Last Supper, but aims at a serene composition while seeking to express individual character to a moderate extent.
We now come to Michelangelo. To begin with, his portrait of himself.
Here we have Michelangelo before he reached his independence, working in Florence, perhaps under the influence of Signorelli and others, still, in fact, a pupil.
And now we think of Michelangelo moving to Rome for the first time, under all the influences which I described just now.
Look at this picture and then at the following one; compare the feeling in the two.
Look at this work. Undoubtedly it is created under the feeling of his coming to Rome. A more or less tragic element, a certain sublime pessimism pervades it. Let us return once more to the former one, and you will see the two creations are very similar in their artistic character. They express the same shade of feeling in Michelangelo. We now return once more to the Pieta.
People who feel the story more than the artistic quality as such have often said that the Madonna, for the situation in which she is here portrayed, is far too young. This arose out of a belief which was still absolutely natural in that time and lived in the soul of Michelangelo himself:—the belief that owing to her virgin nature the Madonna never assumed the features of old age.
Here you have the work of which we spoke before. The figure strikes us most of all by its colossal quality, not in the external sense, but a quality mysteriously hidden in its whole artistic treatment.
We now come to the Sistine Chapel. To begin with, we have the Creation of the World,—the first stage, which we might describe as the creation of Light out of the darkness of night.
This picture bears witness to a tradition still living at that time as regards the creation of the World. It was that Jehovah created, in a sense, as the successor of an earlier Creator, whom He overcame, or transcended, and who now departed. The harmony of the net World-creation with the old which it transcended is clearly shown in this picture. Truly, we may say, such ideas as are expressed in this picture have vanished absolutely; they are no longer present.
This, then, is the creation of that which went before mankind.
Here we find the creation of man. There follows the creation of Eve.
We now move more and more away from the theme of World-creation into the theme of History—the further evolution of the human race. This is the fall into sin.
We come to the Sibyls, of whom I have spoken in a former lecture. They represent the one supersensible element in the evolution of man, which is contrasted with the other, the prophetic quality. We shall see the latter presently in the series of the Prophets. Here we have the Sibylline element. In my cycle of lectures given at Leipzig, on “Christ and the Spiritual World,” you will find the fuller description of its relation to the prophetic. That Michelangelo included these things at all, in his series of pictures, proves how closely he connected the earthly life with the supersensible—the spiritual. See now the succession of the Sibyls; observe how a real individual life is poured out into each one: in every detail, each one brings to expression a quite specific visionary character of her own.
Observe the position of the hand. It is no mere chance. Observe the look in her eyes, coming forth out of an elemental life; you will divine many things which we cannot express in words, for that would make the thing too abstract,—but they lie hidden in the artistic treatment.
And now we come to the Prophets.
These are examples of his scenes from the Old Testament.
Here we come to his later period in Florence: to the Medicis and the Chapel at which he had to work for the Medicis under conditions that I described before. I have spoken of these tombs of Juliano and Lorenzo in a lecture which I believe has also been printed.
This is the second tomb, with the figures of Morning and Evening.
Once again we accompany Michelangelo to Rome, where he creates, once more by comman of the Pope, the Last Judgment—the altar-piece for the Sistine Chapel. The greatness of this piece lies in the characterisation, the universal significance of the characters. Consider in this picture all that is destined, as it were, for Heaven, all that is destined for Hell, and Christ in the centre, as the cosmic Judge. You will see how Michelangelo sought to harmonise this cosmic scene. Majestically as it was conceived, with an individual and human feeling. Hermann Grimm drew the head of Christ from the immediate vicinity, and it proved to be very similar to the head of the Apollo of Belvedere. We will now show some of the details.
and another detail, the group above the boat:
And now, though in time it belongs to a somewhat earlier period, we give what Michelangelo created for the monument of Pope Julius; for, in fact, this was never finished, and Michelangelo was working at it in the very latest period of his life and finished portions of it.
It is significant that Pope Julius II, whose character undoubtedly contained a certain greatness, called for this monument to be erected to his efforts. It was to have included a whole series of figures, perhaps thirty in number. It was never completed, but there remained this, the greatest figure in connection with it—Michelangelo's famous figure of Moses, of which we have often spoken,—and the two figures now following:
This was completed in the very latest period of his life. It is hard to say exhaustively how it arose. One thing is certain: the group expresses an idea which Michelangelo carried with him throughout his life. Whether there was another group which has somehow been lost, in which he treated this scene at a very early stage in his career, or whether it was the same block at which he worked again, remodelling it at the end of his life, it is hard to say. But we see it here as his last work. Not only is it the one which he completed when he was a very old man; it corresponds to an artistic idea which he carried throughout his long life, and is connected far more deeply than one imagines with the fundamental feeling of his soul. True, he could not have created it thus at every phase of his life. It would always have turned out a little differently; it would always have reproduced the basic mood of his soul in a somewhat different way. But the deep and pure Christian feeling that lives in Michelangelo comes to expression especially in this particular relationship of Christ to the Mother, in this scene of the entombment. Again and again the idea of the Mystery of Golgotha arises in the soul of Michelangelo in this way:—He feels that with the Mystery of Golgotha a deed of Heavenly Love took place, of an intensity that will hover for ever before the eyes of man as a sublime ideal, but that can never be attained by man even in the remotest degree, and must therefore inspire with a tragic mood him who beholds these World-events.
And now imagine, with this idea living in his soul, Michelangelo saw Rome becoming Jesuitical. With this idea in his soul, he underwent all the feelings of which I spoke; and whatever he saw in the world, he measured in relation to this standard. Truly, he underwent much in his long life. While he was creating his earliest artistic works in Florence, the Pope in Rome was Alexander VI, the Borgia. Then he was summoned to Rome, and painted the Creation of the World for Pope Julius. We see the dominion of the Gorgias in Rome replaced by Pope Julius, and then by the Medici, Leo X. In this connection we must realise that Pope Julius II, although he worked with poison, murder, slander, etc., was none the less in earnest about Christian Art. Pope Julius, who replaced the political Borgia princes, strove for the Papal See in order to make it great through spiritual life. Although he was a man of war, nevertheless, in his inmost soul, even as a fighter, he only thought of himself as in the service of spiritual Rome. Of Julius II we must not fail to realise that he was a man of spiritual aims, thoroughly in earnest with all that lay in his impulse to re-erect the Church of St. Peter, and, indeed, with all that he achieved for Art. He was selflessly in earnest about these things. It may sot strange to say this of a man who in carrying out his plans made use of poison, murder and the like. Yet such was the custom of the time in the circles with whose help he realised his plans. His highest ideal, none the less, was that which he desired to bring into the world through the great artists. For a spirit like Michelangelo it is, indeed, profoundly tragical to feel how a perfect good can never find its realisation in the world, but must always be realised one-sidedly. Yet, this was not all, for he lived to witness the transition to the commercial Popes, if we may call them so—those of the house of Medici, who were, in truth, far more concerned with their own ambitions, and were fundamentally different in spirit from Julius II and even from the Borgias. Certainly, these were no better men. We must, however, judge all these things in relation to the time itself. It is easy nowadays to feel Pope Alexander VI, or his son Caesar Borgia, or Julius II, as human atrocities; for today it is permitted to write of them quite independently and freely, whereas many a later phenomenon cannot yet be characterised with equal freedom: But we must also realise:—The sublime works achieved at that time are not without causal relationship with the characters of all these Popes,—indeed, many things would certainly not have come to pass if Savonarola or Luther had occupied the Papal See. And now we come to Raphael.
Here is the picture of which I spoke last time. We will bring it before our souls once more. On the left we have the same subject treated by Perugino, and on the right by Raphael. It is the Sposalizio or Marriage of the Virgin. Here you can see how Raphael grew out of the School of his teacher, Perugino, and you can recognise the great advance. At the same time, we see in the picture on the left all that is characteristic of this School on the level from which Raphael began. See the characteristic faces, their healthily—as we today call it—sentimental expression. See the peculiar postures of the feet. A certain characterisation is attempted; yet it is all enclosed in a certain aura of which I spoke before,—which appears again in Raphael, transfigured, as it were, raised into a new form and power of composition. You recognise here the growth of this power of composition, too. But if you compare the details, you will find that in Raphael it is grasped more clearly and yet at the same time it is more gentle, it is not so hard.
This whole picture is to be conceived of as a world of dream. It is generally known as the “Dream of a Knight.”
We will now let work upon us a number of Raphael's pictures of the Madonna and of the sacred legend. These—especially the Madonnas—are the works of Raphael which first carried him out into the world.
In all these pictures you still have the old, characteristic postures and attitudes which Raphael took with him from his home country.
These are the Madonnas which bear witness to the further development of Raphael. Ile follow him now into the time when he went to Rome. It is not known historically exactly when that was. Probability is that he did not simply go there in a given year,—1500 is generally assumed—but that he had been to Rome more than once and gone back again to Florence, and that from 1500 onward he worked in Rome continuously. Now, therefore, we follow him to Rome and come to those pictures which he painted there for Pope Julius.
This picture is well-known to you all, and we, too, have spoken of it in former lectures. Many preparatory sketches of it exist. In the form in which you see it here, it was done to the order of the Pope,—the Pope who craved, as I said just now, to make Rome spiritually great.
We must, however, hold fast to one point, which is revealed by the fact that some elements of the motif of this picture appear at a very early stage, even in Perugia, representing this idea, this scene, or, rather, the motif of it.
Thus the idea was already living at that early stage, and was able to take shape in this remarkable corner of East-Central Italy.
We must conceive the motif of the picture as living in the very time itself. Below are the human beings—theologians, for the most part. These theologians are well aware that everything which human reason can discover is related to what St. Thomas Aquinas called the “Praeambula Fidei,” and must be permeated by what comes down from Spiritual Worlds as real inspiration, wherein are mingled the attainments of the great Christian and pre-Christian figures of history, and by means of which alone the secret of the Trinity is to be understood. This mystery, we must conceive, bursts down into the midst of the disputations of the theologians below. We may conceive that this picture is painted out of the will to unite the Christian life quite fundamentally with Rome—to make Rome once more the center of Christianity by rebuilding the derelict Church of St. Peter, according to the desires of Pope Julius. Under the influence of the Pope, wishing to achieve a new greatness of Christianity centered in Rome, such ideas are brought together with the fundamental concept; the secret of the Trinity. This fact explains what I may call, perhaps, the outer trimmings of the picture. (Even in the architectural elements which it contains, we see designs which re-occur in St. Peter's.) It is as though this picture were to proclaim: Now once again the secret of the Trinity shall be taught to the whole world by Rome. There are many preliminary sketches showing not only that Raphael only by and by achieved the final composition, but that this whole way of thinking about the inspiration, the Idea of the Trinity had been living in him for a long time. It was certainly not the case that the Pope said: “Paint me such and such a picture.” He rather said, “Tell me of the idea that has been living in you for so long,” and thus together, so to speak, they arrived at the conception which we now see on the wall of the Segnatura.
Now we come to the picture which, as you know, is commonly named the School of Athens, chiefly because the two central figures are supposed to be Plato and Aristotle. The one thing certain is that they are not. I will not dwell on other views that have been put forward. I have spoken of this picture, too, on previous occasions. But they are certainly not Plato and Aristotle. True, we may recognise in these figures many an ancient philosopher, but that is not the point of the picture. The real point is, that in contrast to what is called “Inspiration” Raphael also wished to portray what man receives through his intelligence when he directs it to the supersensible and applies it to investigate the causes of things. The various attitudes which man can then assume are expressed in the several figures. No doubt Raphael introduced the traditional figures of ancient philosophers, as, indeed, he always tried to make use of this or that tradition. But that is not his real point; the point was to contrast the supersensible Inspiration, the descent of the super-sensible as an inspiration to man, on the one hand; and on the other hand the attainment of a knowledge of the world of causes through the intelligence of man directed to the Supersensible. In this sense, the two central figures are to be understood as follows: On the one hand we have a man still in the younger years of life, a man with less experience of life, who speaks more as a man who looks around him on the Earth, there to perceive the causes of things. Beside him is the old, old. man who has assimilated very much in life, and knows how to apply what he has seen on Earth to heavenly things. And then there are the other figures who, partly by meditation, partly by arithmetical, geometrical or other exercises, or by the study and interpretation of the Gospels and the sacred writings, seek to discover the causes of things by applying their human intellect. I have already spoken of these things and I believe that Lecture, too, has been made accessible. I think if we take the contrast of the two pictures in this way, we shall not be misled into nonsensical speculations as to whether this one is Pythagoras or the other Plato or Aristotle—which speculations are at all events beside the mark and inartistic. Much ingenuity has been applied in deciphering the several figures: Nothing could be more superfluous in relation to these pictures. Rather should we study to observe the wonderful varieties expressed in the search for all that is attainable by the intelligence of man.
You may also compare the two pictures. In this present picture the whole thing is placed in an architectural setting, whereas in the other, the “Disputa,” the wide World is the setting. It is the difference between Inspiration whose house is the great universal edifice and the quest of the human intelligence which, as you see it here, goes on in an enclosed and human space.
We come to what is attainable in the human sphere, without the latter being influenced out of the supersensible.
This is like a commentary to the Disputa—the knowledge of the Divine Mysteries represented in a more allegorical figure, and leading on to the Disputa.
Here we have a picture taken from the whole complex which Raphael did for Pope Julius II in order to inspire the idea that Christianity must gain the victory and all that resists it must be overcome.
This is only another aspect of the same idea.
Also belonging to the same group.
Raphael's Sibyls. If you remember those of Michelangelo, you will observe the immense difference. In the Sibyls of Raphael—I beg you to see it for yourselves—human figures are portrayed, to represent beings standing within the cosmos,—Beings into whom the whole cosmos is working. They themselves are dreaming, as it were, within the cosmos as a very part of it and have not fully come to consciousness. The various supersensible Beings, angelic figures between them, bring them the secrets of the worlds. Thus they are dreamy Beings, living within the universal nexus. Michelangelo, on the other hand, portrays the human and individual in all that his Sibyls are dreaming, or evolving out of their dream-consciousness. Michelangelo has to create out of the individual, nay, we may even say, the personal character of each one. These Sibyls of Raphael, on the other hand, live and move and have their being over and above the individual. Even inasmuch as they are individual, they live and move in a cosmic life.
In this room we have the picture of the Transfiguration. (No picture of room available)
Here is the picture itself. It is even possible that Raphael himself did not complete it, but left it unfinished at his death. Christ is soaring heavenward.
To those who say that Raphael in his latest period painted visionary pictures, we need only reply by pointing to this figure (the figure of the boy). It is portrayed in a perfectly real, Occultly realistic sense, how the figure makes it possible for the scene to become visible to the others. Through what I would call the mediumistic nature of the unconsciousness of madness, this figure influences the others, enabling them to behold such a thing as this.
Here we have the figure of the Christ.
And now, my dear friends, think of all that Raphael had painted. All that has passed before you was contained between his twenty-first and his thirty-seventh year, in which he died. In his twenty-first year he painted the first picture which we showed—the Marriage of the Virgin—contrasting it with Perugino's painting. Hermann Grimm worked out in a beautiful way something that bears eloquent witness to Raphael's free and independent evolution, proving even outwardly to some extent what I just said before. Raphael, although he was carried on the waves of time, and learnt, of course, very much from the world, nevertheless took with him into Rome the peculiar nature of that Middle-Eastern part of Italy. In spite of his youth, he created out of his own inmost nature and progressed undisturbed, with perfect regularity in his evolution. Hermann Grimm pointed out that we come to the chief culminating points in Raphael's creative work if, starting from his twenty-first year, we go forward in successive periods of four years. From his twenty-first year we have his Sposalizio; four years later the Entombment, which we have not shown today—an exceedingly characteristic picture, which, especially when we take into account the related sketches and everything connected with it, expresses a certain climax in the work of Raphael. And then, once more, four years later, we have a climax of creative work in the Camera della Segnatura in the Vatican. Progressing thus by stages of four years, we see how Raphael undergoes his evolution. He stands there in the world with absolute individuality, obeying an impulse connected only with his incarnation, which impulse he steadily unfolds and places into the world something that takes its course with perfect regularity, like the evolution of mankind.
And now consider these three figures all together,—standing out as a summit in the life of Art, in the evolution of mankind. It lies in the deep tragedy of human evolution that this supreme attainment is connected with a succession of Popes—Alexander VI, Borgia, Julius II, Leo X,—men who occupy the first position as regards their artistic aims and who were called upon to play their part in human evolution as rulers in high places. And yet they were of such a character as to take with them into these high places the worst extremes which even that age could nroduce by way of murder, misrepresentation, cruelty and poison. And yet, undoubtedly—down to the Medici, who always retained their mercantile spirit,—they were sincere and in earnest where Art was concerned. Julius II was an extraordinary man, inclined to every kind of cruelty, never scrupling to use misrepresentation and even poison as though it were, in a world-historic sense, the best of homely remedies. Yet it was rightly said of this man that he never made a promise that he did not keep. And to the artists, above all, he kept his promise to a high degree; nor did he ever bind or fetter them, so long as they were able to render him the services which he desired, in the work which he intended.
Consider, alongside of this succession of Popes, the great men who created these works—the three great characters who have passed before our souls today. Think how in the one, in Leonardo, there lived much that has not yet been developed further, even today. Think how there lived in Michelangelo the whole great tragedy of his own time, and of his fatherland, both in the narrower and in the wider sense. Think how there lived in Raphael the power to transcend his Age. For while he was most intensely receptive to all the world around that carried him as on the waves of time, nevertheless, he was a self-contained nature. Consider, moreover, how neither Leonardo nor Michelangelo could carry into their time that which could work upon it fully. Michelangelo wrestled to bring forth, to express out of the human individuality itself all that was contained in his time; and yet, after all, he never created anything which the age was fully able to receive. Still less could Leonardo do so, for Leonardo bore within his soul far greater things than his Age could realise. And as to Raphael—he unfolded a human nature which remained for ever young. He was predestined, as it were, by providential guidance to evolve such youthfulness with an intensity which could never grow old. For, in effect, the time itself, into which all that came forth from his inner impulses was born, first had to grow young. Only now there comes the time when men will begin to understand less and less of Raphael. For the time has grown older than that which Raphael could give to it.
In conclusion, we will show a few of Raphael's portraits.
These, then, are the two Popes who were his patrons.
We have come to the end of our pictures.
In the near future, following on the tree great masters of the Renaissance, we shall speak of Holbein, Durer, and the other masters—the parallel phenomena of these developments in Southern Europe.
Today I wanted especially to bring before our souls these three masters of the Renaissance. I have tried to describe a little of what was living in them, and of their stimulus if, starting from any point of their work, you dwell on the historic factors which influenced and entered into them. You will perceive the necessary tragedy of human history, which has to live itself out in one-sidedness. We can learn much for our judgment of all historic things, if we study how the world-historic process played into that Florentine Age whose greatness is identified with Raphael, Michelangelo and Leonardo. Today especially I fancy no one will regret the time he spends in dwelling on a historic moment like the year 1505, when Michelangelo, Leonardo and Raphael were at the same time in Florence—Raphael still as a younger man, learning from the others; and the other two vying with one another, painting battle-pieces, glorifying the deeds that belonged to political history. Especially at the present moment, anyone who has vision for the facts of history in all its domains, and sees the significance of outward political events for the spiritual life, will profit greatly by the study of that time. Consider what was working then:—how the artistic life sought and found its place in the midst of the outer events, and how through these artistic and external events of the time, the greatest impulses of human evolution found their way. See how intimately there were interwoven human brutality and high-mindedness, human tyranny and striving towards freedom. If you let these things work upon you from whatever aspect, you will not regret the loss of time, for you will learn a great deal even for your judgment of this present moment. Above all, you will have cause to rid yourself of the belief that the greatest words necessarily signify that the greatest ideas are behind them, or that those who in our days are speaking most of freedom have any understanding at all of what freedom is. In other directions, too, much can be gained for the sharpening of our judgment in this present time, by studying the events which took place in Florence at the beginning of the 16th century, while under the immediate impression of Savonarola who had just been put to death. We see that Florence in the midst of Italy, at a time when Christianity had assumed a form whereby it slid over on the one hand into the realm of Art, while on the other hand the moral feelings of mankind made vigorous protest against it, was a form fundamentally different from that of Jesuitism which found its way into the political and religious stream immediately afterwards, and played so great a part in the politics of the succeeding centuries down to our day.
Of course, it is not proper at this moment to say any more about these things. Perhaps, however, some of you will guess for yourselves, if you dwell upon the chapter of human evolution whose artistic expression we have today let work upon our
2. Lionardo Michelangelo Raffael
Die drei großen Renaissance-Meister:
Wir haben vor einiger Zeit hier die Kunst jener Zeit vorgeführt, welche dann eingelaufen ist in die der großen Renaissance-Meister; Betrachtungen, die wir damals angestellt haben, liefen darauf hinaus, die Verbindungen zu zeigen, die in der künstlerischen Empfindungswelt zu dem geführt haben, was dann durch Lionardo, durch Michelangelo, durch Raffael in einer großartigen Weise zusammengefaßt worden ist. Mit diesen drei großen Meistern der Renaissance finden wir allerdings im künstlerischen Sinne einen Ausgangspunkt der neuen Zeit in der Morgenröte der fünften nachatlantischen Epoche, wie sie sich künstlerisch angekündigt hat. Sie fallen ja durchaus gerade in den Anfang dieser fünften nachatlantischen Epoche: 1452 ist Lionardo geboren, 1475 Michelangelo und 1483 Raffael; Lionardo stirbt 1519, Raffael 1520, Michelangelo 1564. Damit stehen wir am Ausgangspunkt. Aber zugleich ist in diesen Künstlern etwas enthalten von dem, was durchaus wie ein Abschluß, wie eine Zusammenfassung zu betrachten ist der Geistesströmung der vorhergehenden Zeit, wie sich diese vorhergehenden Zeiten in das Künstlerische hinein ergossen haben. Für das, was da in Betracht kommt, hat man allerdings in unserer heutigen Zeit nicht ein ganz unmittelbares Verständnis. Denn in unserer heutigen Zeit ist die Kunst gewissermaßen zu stark herausgetrieben oder wenigstens — es braucht damit keine Kritik verbunden zu sein — ist sie herausgetrieben aus dem gemeinsamen Geistesleben; und oftmals findet man sogar, daß es wie ein Mangel empfunden wird, wenn der kulturhistorische Betrachter die Kunst wiederum hineinstellen will in das gesamte Geistesleben. Denn man vermeint, daß damit zu sehr von dem eigentlich Künstlerischen, von dem Ästhetischen Abstand genommen wird und auf das Inhaltliche, auf das stoffliche Moment ein zu großer Wert gelegt wird. Das muß aber gar nicht gemeint sein. Dieser Unterschied hat schon mehr eigentlich erst für unsere Zeit eine so große Bedeutung; er hat eine so unmittelbare Bedeutung nicht für frühere Zeiten, in denen überhaupt für den Menschensinn das künstlerische Verständnis mehr ausgebildet war. Wir müssen da gedenken, wie stark an der Ausrottung des eigentlich künstlerischen Verständnisses gearbeitet worden ist durch all die Scheußlichkeiten, welche in den letzten Zeiten als Darstellungen, bildhafte Darstellungen vor den Menschensinn hingetreten sind. Man muß nicht verkennen, wie verloren worden ist das Verständnis für das «Wie» dadurch, daß es in einem gewissen Sinne für Europa gleichgültig geworden ist, das «Was» in einem beliebigen «Wie» zu empfinden. Und so ist das künstlerische Verständnis überhaupt in weitesten Kreisen recht stark verlorengegangen.
Wenn für solche ältere Zeiten, wie diejenige es auch ist, mit der wir heute wieder zu tun haben, davon gesprochen werden muß, daß Künstler wie Raffael, Michelangelo, Lionardo durchaus nicht einseitig Künstler sind, sondern das gesamte geistige Leben in ihrer Seele tragen und aus dem geistigen Leben, aus dem geistigen Leben ihrer Zeit heraus schaffen, so ist damit nicht gemeint, daß sie die Stoffe entnommen haben aus diesem geistigen Leben heraus, sondern es floß in das spezifisch Künstlerische ihres Schaffens, durchaus in Form- und Farbengebung floß hinein das Spezifische dessen, was man für die damalige Zeit eine Weltanschauung nennen kann. Für die gegenwärtige Zeit ist eine Weltanschauung eine Summe von Ideen, die, wenn man sie bildhauert oder malt, selbstverständlich durchaus verkörpert werden können in Formen, Farben und dergleichen, die für eine künstlerische Auffassung die größte Barbarei zeigen. In dieser Beziehung müssen ja immer wiederum gerade innerhalb unserer anthroposophischen Entwickelung Ermahnungen gewissermaßen gegeben werden; denn es ist nicht überall in unseren Kreisen verbreitet das Gefühl des eigentlich Künstlerischen. Ich erinnere mich mit Schaudern noch, wie im Anfang in unserer theosophischen Bewegung ein Mann einmal gekommen ist nach Berlin und hat Reproduktionen eines Bildes gebracht, das er gemalt hat: Der Buddha unter dem Bodhibaum. Nun ja, da saß eine verkrümmelte Gestalt unter einem Baume zwar, aber der Mann verstand von der Kunst so viel - verzeihen Sie den trivialen Ausdruck, aber er kann da gebraucht werden — wie der Ochs vom Sonntag, wenn er die ganze Woche Gras gefressen hat; der dachte, wenn man irgend etwas, was ein Motiv ist, eben hinmacht, so stellt das was dar. Es stellte auch das dar, nämlich derjenige, der sich die ganze Szene denkt — Buddha unter dem Bodhibaum -, der kann das ja sehen. Aber warum das eigentlich gemacht werden soll, wenn es so auftritt, dafür gibt es gar keine Gründe.
Aber etwas anderes ist es, wenn man bei Lionardo, bei Michelangelo, bei Raffael davon spricht, daß sie die ganze Empfindungsart in ihrer Seele trugen, die in der damaligen Zeit die italienische Kultur durchsetzte. Denn bei ihnen lebte sich in die künstlerische Art der Darstellung diese Kultur hinein, und man versteht diese Künstler nicht ganz, wenn man sie ohne Empfindung für diese Kultur betrachtet. Man glaubt heute ja ganz merkwürdige Dinge. Man glaubt zum Beispiel, daß jemand eine gotische Kirche auch bauen kann, wenn er gar keine Ahnung von einem Meßopfer hat. Das kann er natürlich nicht in Wirklichkeit. Man glaubt, daß einer die Dreieinigkeit malen kann, der kein Empfinden hat für das, was in der Dreieinigkeit leben soll. Das drängt die Kunst heute ab. Aber auf der anderen Seite versteht man auch nicht das spezifisch Künstlerische, wenn man meint, daß man sich einfach mit dem Empfinden und ästhetischen Anschauen, die man heute in der Kunst hat, kritisierend hermachen kann über Raffael oder Michelangelo oder Lionardo, denn ihr ganzes Fühlen und Empfinden ist ein anderes als das, was bis heute geworden ist. Es war bei ihnen eben naturgemäß - ich kann ja heute nicht weitere Ausführungen machen, und um das zu sagen, was eigentlich gesagt werden sollte, brauchte ich viele Stunden -, es war bei ihnen naturgemäß, daß sie eben in der ganzen Empfindungsart ihrer Zeit drinnen lebten, und man versteht ihr Schaffen nicht, wenn man den Charakter nicht versteht, den das Christentum zur Zeit ihres Aufblühens angenommen hat. Denken Sie doch nur einmal, daß dieses Christentum in Italien am Ende des 15. Jahrhunderts, am Anfang des 16. Jahrhunderts selbst unter den Päpsten solche gesehen hat, von denen man wahrhaftig nicht sagen kann, daß sie auch nur den allerprimitivsten Ansprüchen an das, was man, wenn man noch gar nicht einmal Pietist ist, Moral nennt, genügten. Und das ganze Heer der Geistlichen war selbstverständlich ebenso beschaffen. Daß ein spezifisch moralischer Impuls in dem, was man christlich nennt, leben soll, das war verhältnismäßig abhanden gekommen in der damaligen Zeit. Dagegen war gerade durch dieses Abhandenkommen desjenigen, was später in pietistischen, in moralisierenden Strömungen wieder aufgetaucht ist, wieder aufgekommen ist und was auch nicht identisch ist mit dem, was ich neulich von Franz von Assisi erzählt habe - in dem, was da wieder aufgetreten ist, lebt ein anderes Fühlen gegenüber dem Christentum, als dasjenige war, was die Menschen erfüllt hat, die im Gefolge waren, sagen wir eines Papstes Alexanders VI., eines Julius II., eines Leo X. Wenn man aber auf das blickt, was christliche Überlieferung ist, was Ideen und Anschauungen sind, die sich anknüpfen an das Mysterium von Golgatha, so waren diese Anschauungen, diese Ideen — wobei ich unter Ideen nun auch Imaginationen verstehe - durchaus in den Seelen vorhanden in einer Stärke, von der man sich heute gar keine Vorstellung mehr macht. Die Seelen lebten in diesen Vorstellungen, die sich anknüpften an das Mysterium von Golgatha, wie in ihrer Welt. Und sie sahen auch die Natur in diese Welt hineingestellt. Man muß sich nur klarmachen: Für die damalige Zeit war auch für die Allergebildetsten diese Erde, von der die westliche Hälfte ja noch nicht bekannt war oder wenigstens erst bekannt wurde, aber mit der man noch nicht rechnete, der Mittelpunkt der Welt. Unter die Oberfläche der Erde hinuntergehend, fand man ein unterirdisches Reich - nur ein wenig hinaufgehend ein überirdisches Reich. Man möchte sagen: Für die damalige Zeit war es so, als ob man nur hätte den Arm des Menschen zu erheben brauchen, so hätte man mit der Hand die Füße der überirdischen Wesen anfassen können; es ragte der Himmel durchaus in das irdische Element herein. Und im Sinne eines solchen Anschauens, eines Zusammenklanges zwischen dem über- und unterirdischen Geistigen mit der den Menschen umfassenden Sinneswelt, im Sinne einer solchen Anschauung war auch die Naturanschauung gehalten.
Aus dieser Zeit heraus strebten nun gerade die drei großen Meister der Renaissance. Und derjenige, welcher, ich möchte sagen wie im Keime in sich enthält schon alles das, was seit jener Zeit aufgetreten ist und auch noch erst auftreten wird, das war Lionardo.
Lionardo trug an einer Seele, welche durchaus ebenso gerichtet war hin nach den Empfindungen der früheren Zeit wie nach den Empfindungen einer späteren Zeit. Lionardo hatte in seiner Seele durchaus ein geistiges Janusgesicht. Er steckt durch seine Erziehung, durch seine Lebensgewohnheiten, durch das, was er gesehen hat, mit seinen Empfindungen in der alten Zeit drinnen, aber er hat einen mächtigen Drang nach jener Weltanschauung, die erst die neuere Zeit heraufbringt, noch nicht so sehr nach der Breite der Weltanschauung als nach der Tiefe dieser Weltanschauung. Sie wissen ja aus den verschiedenen Andeutungen, die ich in meinen Vorträgen gemacht habe, daß die Griechen und eigentlich auch der spätere vierte nachatlantische Zeitraum das Leben ganz anders, aus ganz anderen Quellen her kannten als die spätere Zeit. Die menschliche Figur kannte der Plastiker dieses Zeitraums von innen heraus aus einer Wahrnehmung noch der Kräfte, die in ihm selbst waren als Kräfte, die wir heute als Ätherleib ansprechen, und er schuf viel mehr aus diesem Erfühlen dieser Gestalt heraus, aus dem ja vollends der griechische Künstler arbeitete. Diese Fähigkeit hörte auf, und die äußeren Fähigkeiten mußten auftreten, aus dem äußeren Anschauen die Dinge wieder zu nehmen, so daß man gedrängt wurde, die Natur zu erfühlen und zu verstehen. Und ich habe Ihnen gezeigt, wie einer der ersten, die aus einem tiefen Empfinden heraus die Natur zu erfühlen suchten, gerade Franz von Assisi war. Der erste, der nun zu diesem Naturerfühlen Naturverständnis im umfassenden Sinne suchte, war Lionardo. Er versuchte, weil es ihm nicht mehr so gegeben war wie den früheren Menschen, dasjenige, was im Menschen selbst als Kräfte wirkt, von innen heraus zu verfolgen, er versuchte es durch die Anschauung von außen her kennen zu lernen, versuchte durch äußere Anschauung das kennenzulernen, was man durch inneres Erfühlen nicht mehr kennenlernen konnte. Natur-Verstehen im Gegensatz zum NaturErfühlen zeichnete Lionardo aus gegenüber Franz von Assisi. Damit ist aber auch die ganze Geistesverfassung des Lionardo bedingt, die ganz auf das Verstehen ausgeht. Und was erzählt wird — man braucht es nicht wörtlich zu nehmen, denn die Quellen sprechen ja eigentlich mehr oder weniger nur Legenden aus, aber dennoch beruhen diese auf Wirklichkeit —, daß Lionardo besondere Anstrengungen gemacht hat, um an charakteristischen Menschengesichtern durch Anschauung das Wirken des menschlichen Kraftorganismus zu seinem inneren Erlebnis zu machen, daran ist durchaus etwas Wahres. Daß er nachgelaufen ist besonders charakteristischen Gestalten oftmals tagelang, um gewissermaßen den Menschen zu durchschauen, wie sein Wesen in die Form hineinwirkt, daran ist etwas Wahres. Auch daß er Bauern eingeladen hat, denen er das, was sie sehr gerne gegessen haben, aufgetischt hat, denen er Geschichten erzählt hat, daß sie in alle möglichen Situationen des Lachens und der Gesichtsverrenkungen gekommen sind, so daß er sie dann studieren konnte, das beruht durchaus auf Wahrheit. Daß er, als er ein Medusenantlitz malen wollte, sich alle möglichen häßlichen Krötentiere und ähnliches Zeug in das Atelier getragen hat, um die charakteristischen Tiergesichter zu studieren, das gehört zu dem legendenhaft Erzählten, weist aber darauf hin, wie Lionardo suchen mußte, um das geheimnisvolle Schaffen der Natur in ihren Kräften zu erlauschen. Denn Lionardo war wirklich ein Mensch, der Naturverständnis suchte.
Er bemühte sich ja auch, die Naturkräfte, wie sie hereinwirken können in das Menschenleben, im weiteren Sinne aufzufassen. Er war nicht bloß im engsten Sinne Künstler, sondern bei ihm wurde der Künstler aus dem ganzen Menschen heraus, und der ganze Mensch stand drinnen in der sich umwendenden Zeit. Er wollte zum Beispiel in Florenz die Kirche San Giovanni, die durch die allmähliche Erhöhung des Pflasters zu tief in den Boden hineingeraten war, die wollte er heben - eine Aufgabe, die heute leicht auszuführen wäre, die dazumal für aussichtslos gehalten worden ist -, als Ganzes wollte er sie heben. Heute würde es sich bei einer solchen Aufgabe, wie mit Recht von Herman Grimm bemerkt worden ist, nur um die Berechnung der Kosten handeln; dazumal war das eine geniale Idee, denn kein Mensch hielt das für möglich außer Lionardo. Der dachte daran, Apparate aufzubauen, durch die der Mensch durch die Luft fliegen kann, und große Sumpfgebiete zu entwässern; er war Ingenieur, Mechaniker, er war Musiker, er war im geistigen Umgang ein gebildeter Mensch und ein Wissenschafter der damaligen Zeit, konstruierte Apparate, die für die damalige Zeit so unerhört waren, daß niemand außer Lionardo etwas damit anzufangen wußte.
Also aus einem breiten Weltverständnis heraus wirkte dasjenige, was bei ihm in die Hand hinein sich fortsetzte. Von Lionardo kann man wirklich sagen, daß er die sich umwälzenden Kräfte seiner ganzen Zeit in sich trug. Er trug seine Zeit in sich, wie sie sich dazumal in den Umwälzungen in Italien zum Ausdruck brachte. Und man möchte sagen: das ganze Leben das künstlerische Leben Lionardos eingeschlossen — ist ein Abdruck dieses seines Grundcharakters. Er ist eigentlich im Grunde genommen, trotzdem er herausgewachsen ist aus den italienischen Verhältnissen, nicht dort zu Hause. Er ist zwar Florentiner, aber er verbringt nur seine Jugendzeit in Florenz, geht von Florenz fort nach Mailand, weil er von dem Herzog Lodovico Sforza berufen wird, ja, als eine Art Hofbelustiger, durchaus nicht als der große Künstler, wie man heute vielleicht denken könnte, als welcher Lionardo uns heute gilt. Lionardo hatte sich aus einem Pferdeschädel ein Musikinstrument angefertigt, entwickelte darauf Töne und konnte mit großem Humor gerade dadurch das herzoglich-mailändische Haus belustigen wie auch durch mancherlei andere Dinge. Man braucht nicht zu sagen, daß er etwas vorstellen sollte wie eine Art Hofnarr; aber eben als Hofbelustiger, den Hof zu amüsieren, war er eigentlich berufen worden. Und was er dort in Mailand dann außerdem noch geleistet hat, wovon wir später sprechen werden, das hat er im Grunde genommen aus dem innersten Drange seines Wesens heraus geleistet. Aber er war nicht, um diese Leistungen zu vollbringen, in erster Linie an den Hof der Sforza gezogen worden. Trotzdem er sich dort eingelebt hat in Mailand, malt er später, als er nach Florenz zurückkehrt, wiederum an einem Schlachtenbilde, welches verherrlichen soll einen Sieg über Mailand! - Und dann sehen wir ihn sein Leben beenden am französischen Hofe.
Lionardo ist eigentlich ganz darauf aus, nur auf das zu sehen und nur das zu fühlen, was ihn in seiner Zeit am Menschen interessiert. Die politischen Ereignisse, die dazumal so kompliziert sind, die gehen mehr oder weniger an ihm vorbei. Er hebt überall die oberste Schicht des Menschlichen davon ab; er macht sogar in vieler Beziehung den Eindruck einer Natur wie ein Abenteurer, aber eben wie ein Abenteurer, der mit ungeheurer Genialität ausgestattet ist. Er trägt also seine ganze Zeit in sich, und aus dem Fühlen seiner ganzen Zeit heraus entsteht das, was er schafft, das wir dann nicht chronologisch vorführen wollen, sondern in einer Ordnung, die frei ist, aus dem Grunde, weil es gerade bei Lionardo mehr darauf ankommt zu sehen, wie er aus einem Wurf heraus schafft. Deshalb kommt es weniger auf das Chronologische an.
Eine ganz andere Natur, obwohl er das Renaissancemäßige mit Lionardo gemein hat, ist Michelangelo.
Wenn man von Lionardo sagen kann, daß er die ganze damalige Zeit in seinem Busen trägt und wiederum mit seiner Zeit deshalb oftmals in Disharmonie kommt und unverstanden bleibt, weil er sie in all ihren Tiefen und mit den Kräften, die erst im Laufe von späteren Jahrhunderten herauskommen sollten, schon verwendete, so kann man von Michelangelo sagen: Er trug in sich wirklich das damalige Florenz. Allerdings — was war Florenz? Florenz war wirklich in gewissem Sinne ein Konzentrat der damaligen Weltordnung. Und dieses Florenz, das trug er in sich. Er trug es so in sich, daß man sagen kann: Er steht nicht so wie Lionardo den politischen Verhältnissen fern, sondern dasjenige, was sich politisch damals so kompliziert abspielt - und die ganze Weltordnung spielte damals in das Politische herein —, was sich da abspielt in der aufgehenden Phase seiner Epoche, wirkt immer wieder und wieder in seine Seele hinein. Und wenn Michelangelo wiederholt nach Rom geht, so trägt er sein Florenz nach Rom und malt und bildet ein florentinisches Empfinden in die Römerschaft hinein. Lionardo trägt ein Weltempfinden in die Dinge hinein, die er geschaffen hat. Michelangelo trägt florentinisches Empfinden in sein künstlerisches Schaffen hinein. Er trägt sogar florentinisches Empfinden hinüber nach Rom; er erobert gewissermaßen geistig als Künstler Rom, indem er Florenz in Rom wiederum aufleben läßt. Michelangelo erlebt dasjenige mit, was sich aus den politischen Verhältnissen heraus in der Zeit seines Lebens in Florenz abspielt. Das kann man auch in der Aufeinanderfolge seiner Lebensperioden sehen.
Er erlebt zuerst, als seine Laufbahn beginnt, könnte man sagen, als ganz junger Mann den großen Medici. Er wird der Liebling des großen Medici, durch den er erhoben wird zu all dem, was man dazumal in Florenz in sein Geistesleben aufnehmen konnte. Dasjenige, was von antiker Kunst und von antiker Kunstart in Florenz dazumal zu studieren war, studierte Michelangelo unter dem Protektorate des Mediceers. Und er schuf seine ersten Sachen unter dem Protektorate des Mediceers. Und er hatte lieb diesen seinen Protektor; er wuchs in seiner eigenen Seele mit der Seelenart dieses mediceischen Protektors zusammen. Dann mußte er es erleben, daß die Söhne dieses seines Protektors ganz anders geartet waren. Dieser, der allerdings aus einer ehrgeizigen Gemütsanlage heraus, aber aus dieser heraus Freiheit gebend, ein Großes für Florenz geleistet hat, starb ja 1492, und die Söhne erwiesen sich als mehr oder weniger gewöhnliche Tyrannen. Diesen Umschwung mußte Michelangelo in verhältnismäßig früher Jugend erleben. Er mußte es erleben, daß, während im Beginne seiner Laufbahn aus dem mediceischen Kaufmannsgeiste heraus der Kunst freien Lauf gelassen worden war, jetzt der Kaufmannsgeist sich als politischer Geist aufspielte und nach Tyrannei strebte. Und er erlebte es, daß in Florenz im kleinen zunächst sich das zeigte, was später die ganze Welt ergriff. Das war ein furchtbares Erlebnis für ihn, aber ein Erlebnis, welches auch mit der ganzen Umwendung der neueren Zeit zusammenhing.
Da geht er zum ersten Male nach Rom. Und man kann sagen: In Rom vertrauert er dasjenige, was er selber als die Größe dieses Florenz erlebt hat. Und man kann sehen, wie die Formengebung des Michelangelo mit diesem Umschwung in den Empfindungen zusammenhängt. Bis in die Linien herein merkt man, was in seinem Gemüt dieser politische Umschwung in Florenz bewirkt hat. Und wer für solche Sachen Empfindung hat, der merkt es an der im Vatikan befindlichen «Pieta» (127), daß sie herrührt im Grunde genommen von dem trauernden Michelangelo, von dem um seine Vaterstadt trauernden Michelangelo.
Und als dann für Florenz wieder bessere Zeiten beginnen und er zurückgeht, da steht er wiederum unter dem Eindrucke des Gehobenseins, aber des Gehobenseins eben aus dem Grunde, weil in Florenz wiederum die Freiheit eingezogen war. Und da gießt er diese umgestaltete Empfindung hinein in die unbeschreiblich große Charakterfigur seines «David», den er hinstellt (129). In diesem David lebt nicht der biblische David, so wie er traditionell war; in diesem David lebt der Protest des freien Florenz gegen das andringende Großstaatentum, und das Kolossale der Statue da hängt mit dieser Empfindungsart zusammen.
Und als er dann berufen wird von dem Papste Julius, die Sixtinische Kapelle auszumalen, da trägt er erst im rechten Sinne sein Florenz nach Rom hinüber. Was trägt er danach Rom hinüber? - Da trägt er nach Rom hinüber eine ganze Weltauffassung, eine Weltauffassung, von der man ebensogut sagen kann, sie zeige die neue Zeit, wie man sagen kann: In dem, was Michelangelo in Rom schafft in der Sixtinischen Kapelle im Weltenwerden und im Werden der biiblischen Geschichte (132-156), geht unter eine alte Weltanschauung. Eine ganze Welt trägt Michelangelo nach Rom hinüber. Er trägt das hinüber, was in Rom damals nicht entstehen konnte, was seelisch nicht in Rom entstehen konnte, was nur in Florenz entstehen konnte: die Anschauung dieses Weltzusammenhanges vom Urbeginne an bis herein in das Historische im Zusammenhang mit all den prophetischen und Sibyllen-Gaben der Menschen - Sie finden in früheren Vorträgen von mir gerade über diese Dinge Ausführungen -, diese Zusammenhänge mußten in Florenz empfunden werden. Denn was damals Michelangelo empfunden hat und durchaus empfunden hat aus dem, was in Florenz zu seiner Höhe gekommen war, das kann man heute, ohne sich geisteswissenschaftlich in frühere Zeiten zu versetzen, nicht mehr nachempfinden; daher steht in den gebräuchlichen Kunstgeschichten über diese Dinge so viel Unsinn - man kann das nicht mehr nachempfinden; denn so, wie Michelangelo schuf, so kann man nur schaffen, wenn man an diese Dinge wirklich glaubt, wenn man in diesen Dingen drinnen steht. Es ist gut reden, zu sagen: Man malt das Weltenwerden. - Mancher Künstler der heutigen Zeit wird sich das auch zutrauen. Wer Empfindung hat, der wird damit doch nicht einverstanden sein können, aus dem einfachen Grunde, weil keiner das Weltenwerden malen kann, der nicht so drinnen steht mit seinem ganzen Seelenleben, wie Michelangelo drinnen stehen konnte.
Und als er dann wieder nach Florenz geht, geht er im Grunde genommen nach Florenz zurückgetrieben schon von derjenigen Strömung, die, ich möchte sagen den kommerziellen Charakter an die Stelle des sakramentalen Charakters setzt. Er soll zwar dann bedeutsame Werke schaffen und schafft sie auch in der Mediceer-Kapelle (157-164). Aber das Ganze hat im Hintergrunde etwas, was Michelangelo eigentlich der ganzen Unternehmung gegenüber zu pessimistischen Empfindungen trieb. Es handelte sich um die Verherrlichung der Mediceer - und auf die kam es zunächst an -, die ja mittlerweile mächtig geworden waren, weniger in Florenz in der damaligen Zeit als im übrigen Italien.
Und als er dann wiederum zurückgetrieben wird nach Rom durch die Verhältnisse, die herbeigeführt worden waren durch Malatesta Baglionis Verrat, durch das Wiedereindringen der Mediceer, das Ende der Freiheit in Florenz, da malt er - man möchte sagen wie aus dem Protest eines Florentiners — unmittelbar als Maler ins «Jüngste Gericht» hinein den großen Menschheitsprotest der menschlichen Individualität gegenüber alledem, was dieser menschlichen Individualität widerstrebt (167-169). Das gibt dem «Jüngsten Gericht» seine menschliche Größe, jene menschliche Größe, die es ganz gewiß unmittelbar ausgeatmet hat, wie es aus der Hand Michelangelos hervorgegangen ist. Jetzt ist es ja zum Teil vollständig verdorben.
Aber nun erlebt er wiederum dasjenige, was tief, tief in alle Empfindungsimpulse seiner Seele hineinschwirrt. Was alles hatte er schon erlebt an Ereignissen, die für die Entwickelung seines Weltanschauungsbildes von Bedeutung waren! — Wichtige Dinge habe ich Ihnen angegeben, die heute abstrakt aufgenommen werden, die aber durchaus ganz tiefe Seelenimpulse in der Seele des Michelangelo waren. Dazu muß man hinzufügen, daß er ja miterlebt hat den Umschwung, der in Florenz eingetreten ist durch das Auftreten des Savonarola. Damit tritt der Protest auf im Kirchenleben gegen dasjenige, was die damalige Zeit in bezug auf das Christentum überhaupt charakterisierte. Ein so freies Künstlertum, wie es sich in Lionardo geltend gemacht hat und in vielen anderen seiner Art, das konnte sich nur entwikkeln, indem herausgehoben wurden aus dem moralischen Element die Vorstellungen des Christentums, wie sie sich an das Mysterium von Golgatha angereiht hatten: die Vorstellungen über die Trinität, über das Abendmahl, über den Zusammenhang des Irdischen mit dem Übersinnlichen und so weiter. Diese Vorstellungen hatten, herausgehoben aus dem moralischen Element, einen imaginativen Charakter, einen freien imaginativen Charakter bekommen, mit dem man wie mit einem Weltlichen arbeitete, nur daß die heiligen Gestalten darinnen waren. Man hatte es objektiv gemacht, losgelöst vom Moralischen. Dadurch gerade gleitet das vom moralischen Vorstellen losgelöste christliche Vorstellen zum rein Künstlerischen hinüber. Es gleitet hinüber ganz wie selbstverständlich; aber es gehört zu der Art, wie es hinübergeglitten ist, gewissermaßen dieses Abstreifen des Moralischen dazu. Savonarola ist der große Protest gegen dieses Abstreifen des Moralischen. Savonarola tritt auf, der Protest der Moral gegen die moralfreie — ich sage nicht: morallose, aber moralfreie - Kunst. Und man muß schon das Wollen des Savonarola studieren, wenn man auch verstehen will, was von ihm ausgehend und von dem, was er bewirkte, ausgehend in Michelangelo ist. Dann aber erlebte er ein Weiteres. Dieser Michelangelo, der niemals in seinem innersten Gemüte anders als in der Tat christlich dachte, nicht bloß christlich fühlte, sondern sich auch die Weltordnung im christlichen Sinne bildhaft vorstellte, er war hineingestellt in die Zeit, in der, ich möchte sagen die christlichen Vorstellungen objektiv geworden waren und dadurch so leicht hinübergleiten konnten in das Gebiet der Kunst. Da war er hineingestellt, damit erlebte er den nördlichen Protest der Reformation, der verhältnismäßig schnell sich auch über Italien verbreitete. Und er erlebte dann den ganzen Umschwung, der sich von seiten des Katholizismus vollzog als Gegenreformation gegen die Reformation. Er erlebte, wie im Rom der damaligen Zeit die vielleicht moralisch nicht hoch stehenden, aber freien Geister lebten, welche durchaus damit einverstanden waren, dem Katholizismus eine neue Gestalt zu geben, die durchaus nicht so weit gehen wollten wie Savonarola, aber die dem Katholizismus eine solche Gestalt geben wollten, daß er, ohne die Gestalt anzunehmen, die dann in der Reformation hervorgetreten ist, dennoch kontinuierlich sich fortentwickeln konnte. Da brach die Reformation herein als, ich möchte sagen: eine andere Auflage des Savonarola-Protestes. Da bekam man es in Rom mit der Angst zu tun, und man nahm Abschied von all demjenigen, was durchpulst hat das frühere Leben. Solche Ideen, wie sie sich zum Beispiel konzentrierten in der Vittoria Colonna, waren es, auf die auch Michelangelo große Hoffnungen setzte: ein Versittlichen desjenigen, was künstlerisch eine Höhe erreicht hatte, und mit diesem versittlichten Katholizismus die Welt langsam neu zu durchsetzen. Die römischen Machthaber, die katholischen Machthaber stießen jetzt in diese durchaus freieren katholischen Ideen hinein das jesuitische Prinzip, und Paul IV. wurde Papst. Damit erlebte Michelangelo etwas für ihn ganz gewiß Furchtbares; denn er sah im Keime entstehen den Bruch mit dem, was er noch als Christentum kannte. Das jesuitische Christentum nahm seinen Anfang.
Und so ging es in seinen Lebensabend hinein. - Ich sagte, Florenz habe er nach Rom getragen.
Anders war es wiederum bei Raffael.
Raffael trug eigentlich Urbino nach Rom, das östliche Mittelitalien, über das ein merkwürdiger Zauberhauch ausgegossen ist, den man vernimmt, wenn man die kleineren Künstler dieses Gebietes, aus denen Raffael sich herausentwickelt hat, ins Auge faßt. In ihren Schöpfungen mit den lieblichen Antlitzen, mit den charakteristischen Aufstellungen, mit der ganzen Haltung liegt etwas, von dem ich sagen möchte: Da ist künstlerisch in einer etwas späteren Zeit das geworden, was auf moralisierendem Gebiete, auf asketischem Gebiete bei Franz von Assisi früher aufgetreten ist; da geht das in das künstlerische Gestalten und Empfinden hinein. Da lebt der eigentümliche Zauberhauch des zarten Anschauens der Natur und des Menschen. Das ist Raffael wie eingeboren, und das prägt er im Grunde genommen dann während seines ganzen Lebens aus. Und diese Empfindung trägt er nach Rom; die fließt aus seinen Schöpfungen in unser Gemüt über, wenn wir uns versetzen in die Art und Weise, wie diese Schöpfungen waren, die ja auch als Bildwerke zum großen Teil doch vielfach verdorben sind. Und was da Raffael in seiner Seele trägt, das ist gerade dadurch, daß es sich, ich möchte sagen, in der Urbinoschen Einsamkeit entwickelt hat, etwas, was auch einsam dasteht in der damaligen Zeit und was sich gerade von Raffael aus verbreitet hat in die Menschheitskultur hinein. Es ist so, daß Raffael mit diesem Elemente wie auf den Wogen der Zeit getragen wird und überall, von den Wogen der Zeit getragen, dieses Element geltend macht, dieses echt künstlerische Ausgestalten der christlichen Empfindungen als künstlerische Empfindungen. Das ist überall über die Werke Raffaels ausgegossen.
So, möchte ich sagen, steht Lionardo im großen Weltgeschehen drinnen, wie einen überall stechend mit seinem scharfen Weltverstehen; Michelangelo steht im politischen Verstehen der damaligen Zeit darinnen und macht das zum ausgesprochenen Empfindungsimpulse; Raffael bleibt von alledem ziemlich unberührt, wird von den Wogen der Zeit getragen und trägt ein fast unaussprechbares christliches Künstlerisches in die Zeiten-Entwickelung hinein. Das ist es, was diese drei großen Meister der Renaissance zugleich unterscheidet und zugleich vereint; denn sie stellen drei Momente dar im Renaissance-Empfinden, wie es uns historisch erscheinen kann.
Und jetzt lassen wir zunächst Lionardos Kunstwerke bildhaft auf uns wirken. Wir werden sehen, wie diese Kunst sich zeigt. Deshalb wollen wir als erste Bilder dann zeichnerische Schöpfungen von Lionardo zeigen, zeigen, wie er in der ganzen Art und Weise zeichnerisch aus diesem Naturverstehen heraus schafft, das ich zu charakterisieren versuchte. Dann wollen wir - nicht ganz historisch -— seine porträtartigen Bilder zeigen und danach erst übergehen zu seiner Hauptschöpfung, zu dem «Abendmahl», um danach auch zu dem zurückzukehren, was ihn wiederum in seinem Ausgangspunkt zeigt.
Wir werden Ihnen zuerst ein bekanntes Selbstporträt des Lionardo zeigen:
85 Lionardo da Vinci Selbstbildnis, Mailand
Das ist zunächst eines von den Selbstporträts Lionardos. Das andere ist das bekanntere:
86 Lionardo da Vinci Selbstbildnis, Turin
Dann haben wir aus der Werdezeit des Lionardo ein Bild,
92 WVerrocchio/Lionardo Die Taufe Christi
welches eigentlich zeigt, wie Lionardo sich entwickelt hat aus der Schule des Verrocchio heraus. Die kleinen Figuren, die Sie sehen, sind ja sicher Verrocchio-Figuren, während es als Tradition gilt, daß zum Beispiel die Landschaft in der feinen Ausführung um diese Figur hier [Christus] von Lionardo gemalt worden ist. Und es gilt als Tradition, daß nur der eine Engel von ihm in der Schule Verrocchios gemalt worden ist und daß Verrocchio, als er gesehen hat, was Lionardo auf seinen Bildern malen konnte, den Pinsel niedergelegt hat und selber nicht mehr malen wollte.
Nun haben wir eine Zeichnung von Karikaturen:
88 Lionardo da Vinci Karikaturen, Windsor
Hier sehen Sie die Art und Weise, wie Lionardo gezeichnet hat, wie er versuchte, das Charakteristische bis zur Karikatur so weit herauszuholen aus der Anschauung, die er eben in solcher Weise gewonnen hat, wie ich es zu charakterisieren versuchte.
Man soll nicht glauben, daß Lionardo ganz allein dasteht mit solchen Dingen. Dergleichen war schon in der damaligen Zeit durchaus auch von anderen gemacht worden; nur steht Lionardo mit seiner besonderen Genialität da. Aber dieses Suchen des Charakteristischen gegenüber dem, was man früher in der Kunst verklärt hat und was sich in früherer Zeit aus einer höheren Anschauung ergeben hat und dann traditionell geworden ist, dieses Suchen nach dem unmittelbar Charakteristischen, wie es sich der Anschauung ergibt, und das Herausheben desjenigen, was sich aus der Anschauung als besonders signifikant für das Individuelle der Wesen geltend macht, das war schon ein Suchen der damaligen Zeit.
Nun eine weitere Zeichnung, die mit dem Tod:
89 Lionardo da Vinci Allegorie auf den Neid
Es handelt sich dabei wirklich viel mehr als um das Motiv darum, die Darstellung der Knochenlage zu studieren und dergleichen.
Nun ein Charakterkopf,
90 Lionardo da Vinci Brustbild eines Kriegers
und eine Zeichnung zu einer Landschaft:
91 Lionardo da Vinci Regenlandschaft
93 Lionardo da Vinci Frauenbildnis
Dieses Bild (93) und das folgende (94) sind die beiden Bilder, die nicht als
Lionardo-Arbeiten verbürgt sind, die aber Lionardos Charakter tragen und daher nicht ganz ohne Zusammenhang mit ihm in der Zeit stehen:
94 Lionardo da Vinci Die sogenannte «Belle Ferroniere»
Nun hier das berühmte Bild, an dem Sie die andere Seite des Lionardo sehen, eben jene Seite, wo er, ich möchte sagen durchaus den entgegengesetzten Pol sucht zu dem Ihnen vorhin durch Zeichnungen Veranschaulichten, in welchem er versucht, das Charakteristische zu gestalten, wo er versucht, das Individuelle in der Einzelheit herauszugestalten.
96 Lionardo da Vinci Mona Lisa
Man glaubt ja gewöhnlich nicht, daß ein Künstler, der so etwas schafft wie die «Mona Lisa», auch das andere braucht, das bis ins Karikaturmäßige geht. Ich habe das aber versucht anzudeuten, als ich öfters gesprochen habe von dem Naturgemäßen, durch das unser Freund Christian Morgenstern von seinen erhabenen Schöpfungen zu denen getrieben worden ist, die wir ja auch kennen, als das zuweilen Karikaturhafte. Das ist durchaus dieser Zusammenhang in der Künstlerseele, der notwendig ist, wenn es sich um ein so Gerundetes, Abgeklärtes handelt: die Kräfte zu suchen zu der Schöpfung eines solchen Abgeklärten durch das Ausgestalten des Charakteristischen bis zum Karikaturmäßigen.
Wir bringen jetzt weitere Bilder — nicht eben ganz historisch angeordnet —, welche aber Lionardo zeigen in dem Charakter eines nach Rundung, eben nach dieser erwähnten Ausgestaltung suchenden Künstlers:
95 Lionardo da Vinci Madonna Litta
120 Lionardo da Vinci Dionysos-Bacchus
Hier ist die Dionysos-Figur, der Dionysos-Gott. Sie finden darüber einige Andeutungen in verschiedenen Vorträgen, die früher von mir gehalten worden sind.
121 Lionardo da Vinci Johannes der Täufer
Dann eine Madonna mit Jesusknaben in der Grotte:
98 Lionardo da Vinci Madonna in der Felsengrotte
Nun kommen wir zu dem allerdings früher entstandenen «Abendmahl»,
99 Lionardo da Vinci Das Abendmahl
das in Mailand in langer Zeit [1495-98] im Kloster Santa Maria delle Grazie gearbeitet worden ist. Wir haben ja öfters davon gesprochen. Wir wissen, daß es sich dabei darum handelt, daß ein wesentlicher Fortschritt in der ganzen künstlerischen Ausgestaltung bei diesem «Abendmahl» gegenüber früheren Abendmahl-Darstellungen - Ghirlandajo (57) und andere — zu verzeichnen ist. Wenn Sie das ganze Leben in dem Bild beobachten, so werden Sie eben finden, daß trotz allem Kompositionellen das Charakteristische der Figuren so stark hervortritt, daß man darin gerade das völlig Neue - ich habe das schon neulich hervorgehoben - bei Lionardo zu sehen hat. Das Abgestimmitsein, das charakteristische Abgestimmtsein auf die Komposition ist allerdings in diesem Bilde bis aufs Wunderbarste getrieben. Die vier Gruppen der Jünger geben überall zugleich eine abgeschlossene Dreiheit, und jede dieser Dreiheiten stellt sich wiederum in das Ganze in wunderbarer Weise hinein, Farbe und Lichtentwickelung einfach in der wunderbarsten Weise! — Und wie dieses auch in der Farbengebung hineinspielt in der Komposition, darauf habe ich einmal aufmerksam gemacht. Das ist etwas, wodurch man geradezu in das Ganze, in das Geheimnisvolle des Schaffens Lionardos hineinsieht, wenn man versucht, die Farben des ganzen Bildes zusammen zu empfinden und man sie durchaus so empfindet, daß sie über das ganze Bild so verteilt sind, daß sie einander durchaus ergänzen — ich möchte nicht sagen: als Komplementärfarben, aber in ähnlicher Weise wie Komplementärfarben, so daß man eigentlich dann, wenn man das Ganze zusammensieht, ein reines
Licht hat, die Farben reines Licht sind. — Das liegt auch in der Farbengebung dieses Bildes:
109* Unbekannter Meister Das Abendmahl, Fresko-Kopie nach Lionardo
Das sind einzelne Gestalten aus dem Bilde heraus, Jüngergruppen, wie sie auch in Weimar sind.
Lionardo da Vinci: Das Abendmahl, Apostelgruppen:
114 Thomas, Jakobus d. Ä., Philippus
112 Judas, Petrus, Johannes
113* Bartholomäus, Jakobus d. ]., Andreas
115* Matthäus, Thaddäus, Simon
Hier ein Christus-Kopf, der, wie geglaubt wird, ein früher Versuch ist:
108 Lionardo da Vinci (?) Christuskopf
110 Raphael Morghen Das Abendmahl, Kupferstich nach Lionardo
Das ist nun der Morghensche Stich des «Abendmahls» [vollendet 1800], aus dem man noch eine genauere Vorstellung der Komposition bekommen kann als aus dem jetzigen Zustand des Bildes in Mailand, das ja eigentlich vollständig ruiniert ist. Sie kennen ja die Schicksale des Bildes, die auch bei uns öfter erzählt worden sind.
111 Rudolf Stang Das Abendmahl, Kopie nach Lionardo
Das ist nun ein in neuerer Zeit [1887] gemachter Stich, der Stangsche, der versucht, durch eingehendes Studium der Einzelheiten eine Vorstellung von dem Bilde zu geben; der vielfach bewundert wird, der aber vielleicht doch für denjenigen, der das Bild gerade künstlerisch liebt, allerdings eine schöne selbständige künstlerische Leistung auf diesem Gebiet ist, aber der doch zu sehr ablenkt dasjenige, was in dem Bilde ist, auf etwas Fein-Zeichnerisches.
Lionardo da Vinci
118 Der hl. Hieronymus
117 Die Verkündigung
119 Anghiari-Schlacht, Mittelgruppe?, Kupferstich von G. Edelinck nach der Kreide-Kopie von Rubens
Da haben wir nun ein Stückchen aus dem, was Lionardo malen wollte als sein «Schlachtenbild», das ich vorhin erwähnt habe.
Wenn Sie sich Lionardo noch einmal vergegenwärtigen, so werden Sie sehen, daß er etwas in sich hat, was gerade dann wirkt, wenn man nicht die ohnedies nicht sehr feststehende chronologische Ordnung nimmt, sondern gruppenweise die Dinge so auf sich wirken läßt, wie wir es jetzt gemacht haben. Da sieht man, daß in Lionardo durchaus verschiedene Strömungen leben. Die eine Strömung, die besonders herauskommt beim «Abendmahl», die, ich möchte sagen auf das Charakteristisch-Kompositorische hingeht, sie steht für sich da - und sie steht neben derjenigen Strömung, die nicht auf dieses Kompositorische geht, die zu jeder Zeit auch hätte herauskommen können, nur daß gerade zufällig nicht Bilder dieser Art aus jeder Zeit vorhanden sind, die also in den Bildern des Louvre zum Ausdruck gekommen ist, welche wir vor dem «Abendmahl» (99) gezeigt haben (94; 96-98; 120, 121). In denen kommt etwas zum Ausdruck, das durchaus in nichts erinnert an dieses Kompositorische des «Abendmahls», sondern das auf Abrundung geht und nur mehr oder weniger charakteristisch sein will.
Nun kommen wir zu Michelangelo.
Zunächst sein Selbstporträt:
122 Michelangelo (?) Selbstbildnis
123” Michelangelo Der Kampf der Kentauren und Lapithen
124 Michelangelo Madonna an der Treppe
Das ist noch der unselbständige Michelangelo, der eigentlich noch Schüler ist, der in Florenz arbeitet unter dem Einflusse des Donatelloschülers Bertoldo und so weiter.
128 Michelangelo Bacchus
125 Michelangelo Madonna mit dem Kinde und Johannes dem Täufer (Tondo Pitu)
Und nun denken wir an den Michelangelo, der unter den Einflüssen, die ich geschildert habe, zum ersten Male nach Rom hinübergeht:
126 Michelangelo Madonna mit dem Kinde
Betrachten Sie dieses Bild und gleich dann das darauffolgende und vergleichen Sie die Stimmung der beiden Bilder.
127 Michelangelo Pietà , Rom, Petersdom
Sehen Sie sich dieses Bild an. Das ist durchaus unter dieser Stimmung des Nach-Rom-Kommens entstanden, und ein mehr oder weniger tragischer, großartiger Pessimismus liegt über dem Ganzen. Vielleicht schalten wir dann noch einmal zurück,
126 Michelangelo Madonna mit dem Kinde
und Sie werden sehen: Diese beiden Schöpfungen sind im künstlerischen Charakter sehr ähnlich und gehören durchaus derselben Empfindungsnuance bei Michelangelo an. Gehen wir noch einmal zurück zur «Pieta»,
127 Michelangelo Pietà, Rom, Petersdom
die jetzt in Sankt Peter in Rom steht; wenn man dort hineingeht, findet man sie gleich rechts. Bei diesem Bildwerk wurde vielfach gesagt von Menschen, die ja das Novellistische mehr als das Künstlerische empfinden, daß die Madonna noch so jung ist in der Lage, in der sie hier ist. Diese jugendliche Darstellung hängt zusammen mit einem Glauben, der durchaus in der damaligen Zeit natürlich war und von dem auch Michelangelos Seele durchdrungen war: daß die Madonna wegen ihrer Jungfräulichkeit überhaupt nicht alte Züge angenommen hat.
129 Michelangelo David
Hier haben Sie also das vorhin Besprochene. Die Figur wirkt vorzüglich durch ihre Kolossalität, die nicht etwas Außerliches ist, sondern die in das ganze Künstlerische hineingeheimnißt ist.
130 Michelangelo Die hl. Familie
Nun kommen wir zur Sixtinischen Kapelle
131 Michelangelo Die Sixtinische Kapelle
mit dem «Jüngsten Gericht» von Michelangelo und dessen Deckengemälden. Wir bringen zunächst einzelne Teile der Deckenmalereien:
132 Sixtinische Kapelle Die Trennung des Lichtes von der Finsternis
Die Weltenschöpfung, das erste Stadium, könnte man sagen: die Erschaffung des Lichtes aus der Nacht heraus.
133 Sixtinische Kapelle Die Erschaffung von Sonne, Mond und Erde
Hier sehen wir, wie in der Tradition noch gelebt hat in bezug auf die Weltenschöpfung, daß Jehova geschaffen hat gewissermaßen als der Nachfolger eines früheren Schöpfers, der von ihm überwunden wird und der abziceht. Das Zusammenklingen der neuen Weltenschöpfung mit der durch die neuere Weltenschöpfung überwundenen alten Weltenschöpfung zeigt sich hier auf diesem Bilde. Und deshalb kann man auch sagen: Solche Vorstellungen, wie sie in diesem Bilde ausgedrückt sind, sind durchaus verklungen, sind nicht mehr da.
134 Sixtinische Kapelle Die Erschaffung der Tierwelt
Das ist also die Erschaffung desjenigen, was der Menschheit vorangegangen ist.
135 Sixtinische Kapelle Die Erschaffung des Adam
Hier finden wir die Erschaffung des Mannes - und daraufhin die Erschaffung der Eva:
136 Sixtinische Kapelle Die Erschaffung der Eva
137 Sixtinische Kapelle Der Sündenfall und die Vertreibung aus dem Paradies
Wir kommen also hier immer mehr und mehr herein aus dem Weltschöpferischen in das Historische, in die Entwickelung des Menschengeschlechtes, in den Sündenfall.
Nun kommen wir zu den Sibyllen, über die ich ja in einem Vortrag einmal gesprochen habe und die das eine übersinnliche Element in dem Menschenwerden darstellen, im Gegensatz zu dem prophetischen Elemente, das dann wiederum in einer Reihe von Propheten auftreten wird. Also das eine, das Element der Sibyllen:
138 Sixtinische Kapelle Die Erythräische Sibylle
Sie finden in dem Leipziger Vortrags-Zyklus ausführlicher darüber gesprochen, wie es sich zum Prophetischen verhält. Daß aber Michelangelo diese Dinge überhaupt in seinen Bilder-Zyklus einbezogen hat, das beweist, wie er das Erdenleben an das übersinnliche Element, an das Spirituelle angeschlossen hat. Nun sehen Sie, wie die Sibyllen der Reihe nach folgen, wie in jede wirklich individuelles Leben hineingegossen ist, wie jede einen ganz bestimmten visionären Charakter zum Ausdruck bringt bis in alle Einzelheiten hinein:
Sixtinische Kapelle
139 Die Cumäische Sibylle
140 Die Delphische Sibylle
141 Brustbild der Delphischen Sibylle
Betrachten Sie die Handhaltung — das ist nicht zufällig! - Und wenn Sie sie ganz sehen: mit dem Blick, der ganz aus dem Elementaren kommt, dann werden Sie manches ahnen können — man kann es nicht aussprechen, weil es dadurch zu abstrakt wird, was aber künstlerisch in der Sache liegt.
142 Sixtinische Kapelle Die Libysche Sibylle
Nun kommen wir zu den Propheten:
Sixtinische Kapelle
143 Der Prophet Zacharias
144 Der Prophet Jeremias
145 Der Prophet Joel
146 Der Prophet Ezechiel
147 Der Prophet Jesaias
148 Der Prophet Jonas
149 Der Prophet Daniel
Das sind alles Proben, nicht wahr, aus Darstellungen des Alten Testamentes:
Sixtinische Kapelle
150 Die Jakob-Gruppe
151 Die Jesse-Gruppe
152 Die Salomon-Gruppe
Endlich einige von den Jünglingsgestalten oberhalb der Sibyllen und Propheten:
Sixtinische Kapelle
153 Jüngling rechts oberhalb der Persischen Sibylle
154 Jüngling links oberhalb der Persischen Sibylle
155 Jüngling rechts oberhalb des Propheten Daniel
156 Jüngling links oberhalb des Propheten Daniel
Nun kommen wir wohl zu dem weiteren florentinischen Aufenthalte Michelangelos, also zu den Mediceern, zu der Mediceischen Kapelle, an der er im Auftrage der Mediceer-Päpste arbeiten sollte, um nun unter solchen Verhältnissen zu arbeiten, wie ich es geschildert habe. Gesprochen habe ich über diese Mediceer-Gräber in einem Vortrage, der ja wohl auch gedruckt ist. Das Grabmal des Lorenzo de’ Medici, gewöhnlich des Giuliano genannt.
Michelangelo, Mediceer-Kapelle
Grabmal des Lorenzo de’ Medici
157 Gesamtansicht
158 Lorenzo de’ Medici
159 Die Nacht
160 Der Tag
Grabmal des Giuliano de’ Medici
161 Gesamtansicht
162 Giuliano de’ Medici
163 Der Abend
164 Der Morgen
165 Die Madonna Medici
Und nun müssen wir Michelangelo wieder begleiten neuerdings hinüber nach Rom, wo er nun wiederum im päpstlichen Auftrage «Das Jüngste Gericht» schafft, das Altarbild der Sixtinischen Kapelle:
167 Sixtinische Kapelle Das Jüngste Gericht
Es ist durchaus das Bedeutsame des Bildes in der Charakteristik der Weltbedeutung der Charaktere. Wenn man also alles dasjenige, was sozusagen für den Himmel bestimmt ist, und dasjenige, was für die Unterwelt bestimmt ist, für die Hölle, und Christus mitten drinnen als Weltenrichter ins Auge faßt, so sieht man, wie Michelangelo durchaus die ganze großartig gedachte Weltenszene mit einem menschlichen Individualempfinden in Einklang bringen wollte. - Nun folgen noch Details aus dem «Jüngsten Gericht»:
168 Sixtinische Kapelle Das Jüngste Gericht, Teil: Christus-Gruppe
Herman Grimm hat einmal den Christus-Kopf ganz in der Nähe gezeichnet, und dieser hat sich sehr ähnlich ergeben dem Apollo-Kopf von Belvedere:
169 Kopf des Christus
170 Kopf des Apollo von Belvedere
Noch ein Detail aus der rechten Ecke unten,
171 Sixtinische Kapelle Das Jüngste Gericht, Teil: Charon mit dem Nachen
und ein weiteres Detail, die Gruppe oberhalb des Nachens:
172 Sixtinische Kapelle Das Jüngste Gericht, Teil: Gruppe von Verdammten
Und jetzt kommt, obwohl es in der Zeit früher anzusetzen wäre, dasjenige, was Michelangelo gemacht hat zum Denkmal des Papstes Julius:
173* Michelangelo Entwurf zum Julius-Grab, Kopie von Jacopo Rocchetti nach der Zeichnung seines Lehrers Michelangelo
Es kommt erst hier aus dem Grunde, weil das Denkmal ja nicht in seiner ursprünglich geplanten glanzvolleren Form ausgeführt worden ist und Michelangelo noch daran gearbeitet, manches daran fertiggestellt hat in seiner letzten Zeit.
Bedeutsam ist eben, daß Papst Julius II., der durchaus ein wirklich groß angelegter Charakter war, seinem eigenen Streben dieses Denkmal setzen lassen wollte. Es sollte eine ganze Reihe von Figuren haben, vielleicht dreißig oder mehr. Es ist dann nicht so zur Ausführung gekommen, und es blieb also als bedeutsamste Gestalt, die damit zusammenhängt, diese ja berühmte «Moses»-Gestalt, die vielfach von mir besprochen worden ist;
174 Michelangelo Moses
und das, was nun folgt,
176 Michelangelo Gefesselter Sklave
175 Michelangelo Sterbender Sklave
166 Michelangelo Pietà, Florenz, Dom-Museum
ist von Michelangelo in der allerletzten Zeit seines Lebens fertiggearbeitet worden. Wenn Sie sich diese «Grablegung» anschauen - nun es ist schwer zu sagen, wie die Sache sich eigentlich vollständig verhält. Es ist ganz gewiß, daß diese Gruppe einer Idee entspricht, die Michelangelo durch sein ganzes Leben getragen hat. Ob nun eine Gruppe vorhanden war, die irgendwie verlorengegangen ist, in der er diese Szene als eines seiner ersten Werke bearbeitet hat, oder ob es vielleicht derselbe Block war, den er nur im hohen Alter weiter umgearbeitet hat, das ist schwer zu sagen. Aber wir zeigen es hier als das letzte Werk Michelangelos, weil es wirklich nicht nur das ist, das er in hohem Alter vollendet hat, sondern weil es einer künstlerischen Idee entspricht, die er durch sein ganzes Leben getragen hat und die eigentlich, mehr als man glaubt, mit dem ganzen Grundempfinden Michelangelos zusammenhängt. Er hätte gewiß in jeder Phase seines Lebens diese Gruppe machen können; sie würde immer etwas anders ausgefallen sein, würde anders die Grundstimmung seiner Seele wiedergegeben haben. Aber das urchristliche Gemüt, das in Michelangelo lebt, das kommt gerade in dieser Gruppe zum Ausdruck - in dieser eigentümlichen Beziehung des Christus zur Mutter in der Grablegungsszene. Denn immer wieder und wiederum tritt in Michelangelos Seele die Idee des Mysteriums von Golgatha so auf, daß er besonders stark fühlt, daß mit dem Mysterium von Golgatha eine Tat überirdischer Liebe geschehen ist, in einer Intensität, wie sie immer als ein großes Ideal den Menschen vor Augen schweben soll, aber niemals auch im entferntesten nur von ihnen erreicht werden kann, wie sie aber tragisch stimmen muß denjenigen, der die Weltereignisse ansieht.
Nun denken Sie sich mit dieser Idee in der Seele sieht sich Michelangelo das Jesuitisch-Werden Roms an, mit dieser Idee in der Seele hat er eigentlich alle die Empfindungen durchgemacht, von denen ich gesprochen habe, hat immer, was er in der Welt gesehen hat, daran gemessen. Und da hat er nun schließlich recht viel in der Welt gesehen. - Denn denken Sie sich: Während er an den ersten künstlerischen Dingen arbeitete, noch in Florenz, war in Rom Papst Alexander VI. Borgia. Dann wurde er ja berufen nach Rom, arbeitete die «Weltenschöpfung» im Auftrage Julius II. Wir sehen also in Rom abgelöst die Borgia-Wirtschaft von Papst Julius, dann von dem Mediceer Leo X. Man muß sich dabei klarmachen, daß der Papst Julius II, trotzdem er arbeitete mit all dem, was man nennen kann Gift, Mord, Verstellung und ähnliche gute Eigenschaften, es mit der christlichen Kunst durchaus in hohem Grade ernst meinte, ernst fühlte, daß der Papst Julius, der ablöste die politischen Borgia-Fürsten, eigentlich nach dem Papsttum strebte, um durch das geistige Leben das Papsttum groß zu machen, obwohl er ja natürlich durchaus Kriegsmann war. Aber in seinem Innersten dachte er sich als Krieger doch nur im Dienste des geistigen Rom. Und bei Julius II. muß man durchaus ins Auge fassen, daß er ein Geistesmensch war, daß es ihm ernst war mit dem, was in seinem Impuls liegt, die Peterskirche wieder aufzurichten, ernst in alledem, was er für die Kunst tat, selbstlos ernst war es ihm damit. Es klingt ja sonderbar, wenn man dies sagt bei einem Menschen, der sich zur Durchführung seiner Pläne des Giftmordes und so weiter bediente; aber das gehörte zu der Sitte seiner Zeit in den Kreisen, mit denen er seine Pläne verwirklichte. Sein Höchstes war aber dasjenige, was er durch die großen Künstler der Welt in die Welt einführen wollte. Und da ist es schon für einen solchen Geist wie Michelangelo tief tragisch, zu empfinden, wie in der Welt niemals ein vollständig Gutes sich realisieren kann, sondern eben in Einseitigkeit sich realisieren muß. Und dann mußte er noch mitmachen den Übergang zu den kommerziellen Päpsten, wenn man so sagen darf, die aus dem Hause Medici waren, denen es mehr um Ehrgeiz zu tun war und die sich wirklich gründlich unterschieden von Julius II., selbst von den Borgta-Gesinnungen; sie sind jedenfalls nicht besser. Aber man muß überhaupt diese ganzen Erscheinungen aus der Zeit heraus beurteilen. Denn es ist natürlich heute ein Leichtes, den Papst Alexander VI. und seinen Sohn Cesare Borgia oder Julius II. wie Scheußlichkeiten zu empfinden, weil über sie schon unabhängig geschrieben werden darf, während man manches Spätere eben mit einer solchen Freiheit noch nicht beschreiben könnte. Man muß zugleich aber wissen, daß die großen Dinge, die damals geschehen sind, kausal schon zusammenhängen mit dem, was diese ganzen Päpste waren und was sicher nicht gewesen wäre, wenn Savonarola oder Luther auf dem päpstlichen Stuhle gesessen wären.
Nun kommen wir zu Raffael.
177 Raffael (?) Selbstbildnis en
Und nun zeigen wir das, wovon ich schon einmal sprach. Wir wollen es uns noch einmal vor die Seele führen, das «Sposalizio»,
75 Pietro Perugino «Lo Sposalizio»
75a Raffael «Lo Sposalizio»
wo wir also das Motiv von Perugino haben und daneben die Vermählung der Maria von Raffael. Gerade an diesem Bilde können Sie sehen, wie Raffael herausgewachsen ist aus der Schule von Perugino, seinem Lehrer, und wie er den großen Fortschritt bedeutet. Sie sehen zu gleicher Zeit an dem Bilde von Perugino (75) alles dasjenige, was charakteristisch ist für diese Kunst, das Niveau, aus dem Raffael herausgewachsen ist, die eigentümlichen, wir würden heute sagen: gesund sentimentalen Gesichter, die eigentümlichen Fußstellungen, das alles, was hier nach einer Charakteristik sucht; aber dieses Charakteristische alles in eine gewisse Aura, wie ich sie vorhin zu charakterisieren versuchte, gekleidet, was dann bei Raffael, man möchte sagen wie verklärt wieder auftritt und durchaus ins Kompositorische in anderer Form erhoben ist. Sie sehen aber auch die Komposition herauswachsen bei Perugino, nur, wenn Sie alles vergleichen, eben bei Raffael schärfer und zugleich auch sanfter, weniger hart gefaßt.
Nun folgt ein Christus mit den Wundmalen:
179 Raffael Der segnende Christus
180 Raffael Der Traum des Ritters
Das ganze Bild ist als Traumwelt aufzufassen; «Traum des Ritters» wird es gewöhnlich genannt.
Nun wollen wir eine Reihe von Madonnenbildern und Bildern aus der Heiligenlegende auf uns wirken lassen. Es sind diejenigen Bilder, die den Ruhm Raffaels zunächst in die Welt hinaustrugen; hauptsächlich die Madonnenbilder.
Raffael 181 St. Georg mit der Lanze
182 Madonna di Terranova
183 Madonna Tempi
184 Madonna im Grünen
185 Madonna mit dem Stieglitz
Überall sind in diesen Bildern die charakteristische alte Stellung und die charakteristische Haltung zu sehen, die Raffael sich durchaus noch aus seiner Heimat mitgebracht hat.
Raffael
186 Die Heilige Familie aus dem Hause Canigiani
187 Die Heilige Familie mit dem Lamm
188 Maria mit dem Kinde und Johannes d. T. («Die schöne Gärtnerin»)
189 Madonna di Casa d’Alba
Jetzt haben wir also Madonnen gesehen, welche besonders stark noch Raffael in seiner Entwickelung zeigen.
Nun verfolgen wir ihn dann weiter in die Zeit, da er nach Rom geht. Es ist geschichtlich nicht bekannt, wann er nach Rom gegangen ist. Wahrscheinlich ist, daß er nicht in einem bestimmten Jahre einfach nach Rom gegangen ist -— wie man gewöhnlich annimmt 1508 -, sondern daß er öfters schon in Rom war, wieder zurückgegangen ist nach Florenz und dann von 1508 an dauernd in Rom geschaffen hat. Jetzt folgen wir ihm also hinüber nach Rom und kommen zu den Bildern, die er im Auftrage des Papstes Julius in Rom geschaffen hat.
197 Raffael Camera della Segnatura: «Disputa»
Das Bild, das ja bekannt ist — auch bei uns ist davon gesprochen worden -, es ist ein Bild, zu dem viele Zeichnungen existieren und das ja, wie es hier ist, im Auftrage des Papstes gemacht worden ist, des Papstes, der die Sehnsuchten hatte, von denen ich Ihnen vorhin gesprochen hatte, der Rom geistig groß machen wollte. Aber festzuhalten ist, daß ja einiges aus dem Motive dieses Bildes schon sehr früh bei Raffael auftritt in einem Gemälde seiner Perugia-Zeit,
201 Raffael Die Dreifaltigkeit
welches gerade diese Idee, diese Szene darstellt, oder sagen wir besser: das Motiv dieser Szene darstellt - das zeigt ja, daß diese Idee eine dazumal lebendige war, lebendig so, daß sie sich besonders ausbilden konnte schon in diesem merkwürdigen östlichen Winkel, in dieser Landschaft Mittelitaliens.
Wir müssen uns das Motiv in der Zeit lebend vorstellen: die Menschen unten, Theologen im wesentlichen, Theologen, die zu gleicher Zeit wissen, daß alles dasjenige, was menschliche Vernunft findet, sich bezieht eben auf dasjenige, was Thomas von Aquino «Praeambula fidei» genannt hat und durchdrungen werden muß von demjenigen, was aus den geistigen Welten als Inspiration herunterkommt; in das sich hineinmischt die Errungenschaft der großen christlichen, vorchristlichen Gestalten des menschlichen Werdens, durch das begriffen wird das Geheimnis der Trinität, das so vorzustellen ist, daß es, während unten gewissermaßen die Theologen disputieren, hereinbricht in ihre Disputation. Nun kann man sich direkt vorstellen, daß dieses Bild gemalt ist aus dem Willen heraus, alles Christliche von Grund aus mit dem Römischen zu verbinden, Rom neuerdings zum Mittelpunkte des Christentums zu machen durch Aufrichtung der Peterskirche, die ja verfallen war und von Julius II. wieder aufgerichtet werden sollte. Aber daß diese Ideen mit der Grundidee des Geheimnisses der Dreifaltigkeit sich dann zusammenfinden auch bei Raffael durch den Einfluß des Papstes, von Rom aus das Christentum neuerdings ganz besonders groß zu machen, das liegt auch, ich möchte sagen der «Verbrämisierung» dieses Bildes zugrunde. Denn man möchte sagen, durch dieses Bild ist ausgesprochen - es sind ja sogar in den Architekturmotiven Dinge zu sehen, die dann in der Peterskirche wieder auftreten -, es ist durch dieses Bild gewissermaßen gesagt: Das Geheimnis der Trinität soll von Rom aus neuerdings der Welt gelehrt werden, der Welt gebracht werden. Zeichnungen finden sich viele zu diesem Bilde, die zeigen, daß Raffael nach und nach diese Endkomposition erst zustande gebracht hat, die aber ebensogut zeigen, daß diese ganze Art, zu denken über die Inspiration, über die Idee der Dreifaltigkeit in ihm lange lebte und daß jedenfalls die Sache nicht so war bei diesem Bilde, daß der Papst einfach sagte: Male mir dieses Bild! —, sondern daß der Papst sagte: Welche Idee lebte in dir lange Zeit? - und daß sie sozusagen zusammen zustande brachten, was auf die eine große Wand der Camera della Segnatura gemalt worden ist.
202 Camera della Segnatura Die «Schule von Athen»
Und nun dieses Bild, das ja bekannt ist, wie Sie wissen, unter dem Namen «Die Schule von Athen», weil man namentlich glaubt, daß die beiden Mittelfiguren Plato und Aristoteles sind. Das einzig Richtige dabei ist, daß sie es ganz gewiß nicht sind. Und es soll hier durchaus nicht - ich habe ja über dieses Bild schon gesprochen - bestanden werden etwa auf anderen Ansichten, die darüber geäußert worden sind; aber Plato und Aristoteles sind die beiden Mittelfiguren ganz gewiß nicht. Gewiß, man wird erkennen allerlei alte Philosophengestalten. Aber auf alles das kommt es nicht an bei diesem Bilde, sondern es kommt darauf an, daß im Gegensatze zu dem, was Inspiration ist, Raffael auch darstellen sollte, was der Mensch durch seine auf das Übersinnliche gerichtete Vernunft erhält — wie er sich da verhält, wenn er seine auf das Übersinnliche gerichtete Vernunft zur Untersuchung der Ursachen der Dinge anwendet. Und die verschiedenen Arten, wie sich der Mensch verhält, sind in den verschiedenen Figuren ausgedrückt. Raffael hat, wie er immer versuchte, dies oder jenes zu verwenden, gewiß so traditionelle alte Philosophenfiguren hineingenommen. Aber darauf kam es ihm nicht an; sondern darauf kommt es an, zu kontrastieren die übersinnliche Inspiration, also das Heruntersenken des Übersinnlichen als Inspiration in den Menschen, und das Erreichen der Erkenntnis der Ursachen der Dinge mit der auf das Übersinnliche gerichteten Vernunft. Die Mittelfiguren sind dann so aufzufassen, daß wir in der einen Gestalt den noch jüngeren Mann haben, der die geringere Lebenserfahrung hat und daher mehr redet wie jemand, der auf den Umkreis der Erde schaut, um aus diesem Umkreise zu ersehen, welches die Ursachen der Dinge sind, neben dem greisenhaften alten Mann, der in sich schon viel verarbeitet hat und der schon das im Irdischen Geschaute auf das Himmlische anzuwenden versteht - neben anderen Gestalten, die zum Teil durch Nachsinnen, zum Teil durch Arithmetisches, Geometrisches und dergleichen, oder durch Enthüllen der Evangelien und so weiter, also des Schrifttums, mit Anwendung der menschlichen Vernunft die Ursachen der Dinge finden wollen. Ich denke, wir können den Gegensatz dieser Bilder so nehmen, daß wir nicht den Unfug treiben, nachzudenken, ob das eine nun Pythagoras, das andere Plato und Aristoteles ist, was ja dem Künstlerischen gegenüber ohnedies nur ein Unfug ist. Es ist viel Scharfsinn verwendet worden auf die Entzifferung der einzelnen Figuren, also auf das Unnötigste, was man diesen Bildern gegenüber sollte. Viel mehr sollte man auf die Verschiedenheit in dem Suchen nach dem, was die menschliche Vernunft erreichen kann, viel mehr sollte man darauf Wert legen.
Nun vergleichen Sie die beiden Bilder auch noch dahingehend, daß Sie hier in einer Architektur drinnen das Ganze haben, während Sie bei der «Disputa» (197) das Bild in die ganze Welt hineingestellt haben — so haben Sie zu gleicher Zeit auch den Unterschied zwischen der Inspiration, die zu ihrem Hause das ganze Weltengebäude hat, und dem Suchen der mensch lichen Vernunft, die im abgeschlossenen menschlichen Raume vor sich gehend betrachtet wird (202).
206* Camera della Segnatura Drei Kardinaltugenden: Fortitudo, Prudentia, Temperantia
Hier haben wir nun das, was erreicht wird innerhalb des Menschlichen selber, also ohne daß dieses Menschliche beeinflußt wird von etwas Übersinnlichem.
208 Camera della Segnatura Theologie (Medaillon oberhalb der «Disputa»)
Das ist also gleichsam der Kommentar zu der «Disputa»: die Erkenntnis des Göttlichen oder vielmehr die Erkenntnis der göttlichen Geheimnisse, dargestellt in mehr allegorischen Figuren, die zur «Disputa» führt.
207 Camera della Segnatura Justitia als vierte Kardinaltugend
190 Raffael Madonna di Foligno
211 Raffael Die Vertreibung des Heliodor
Nun haben wir also eines der Bilder zu dem ganzen Komplex, den Raffael im Auftrage des Papstes Julius gemacht hat, durch die gezeigt werden sollte die Bekräftigung der Idee: Das Christentum muß siegen, und was ihm widersteht, wird überwunden.
212 Raffael Die Begegnung Leo I. mit Attila
Das ist nur die andere Seite derselben Idee. Auch noch zur selben Bildergruppe gehörend: «Petrus im Kerker».
213 Raffael Die Befreiung des Petrus aus dem Gefängnis
214 Raffael Die vier Sibyllen
Das sind die Raffaelischen Sibyllen. Wenn Sie sich erinnern an die Sibyllen des Michelangelo (138-142), so werden Sie den gewaltigen Unterschied hier (214) bemerken. Raffaels Sibyllen sind Sibyllen, die -— sehen Sie sich sie nur daraufhin einmal an - eigentlich zeigen in Menschengestalt ausgedrückt Wesenheiten, die im Zusammenhange stehen mit dem ganzen Kosmos, in die der ganze Kosmos hereinspielt, indem sie innerhalb des Kosmos wie ein Stück des Kosmos selbst träumen, nicht vollständig zum Bewußtsein gekommen sind. Die verschiedenen übersinnlichen Wesen, die zwischen ihnen sind, diese Engelsfiguren, sie tragen ihnen die Weltengeheimnisse zu diese Sibyllen sind traumhafte Wesen im ganzen Weltenzusammenhange, während Michelangelo das Schicksal hatte, das Menschlich-Individuelle auszudrücken, das, was die Sibyllen träumen, im Traumbewußtsein entwickeln, aus dem Individuellen, man möchte sagen: aus dem bis zum Persönlichen gehenden Charakter heraus zu schaffen. Über dem Individuellen, oder auch noch im Unindividuellen, leben und schweben diese Raffaelischen Sibyllen.
Raffael
231 Die Bekehrung der Paulus
191 Die Heilige Familie unter der Eiche
193 Die Sixtinische Madonna
194 Die Sixtinische Madonna, Teil: Madonna mit dem Kinde
192 Die sogenannte «Große Heilige Familie»
Dann kommt also das Zimmer, der Raum, in dem sich die «Transfiguration» befindet. Wir werden nun noch die Transfiguration sehen.
217 Raffael Die Transfiguration
Es ist das Bild, das Raffael vielleicht nicht einmal ganz fertig gemacht hat; es ist das Bild, das er bei seinem Tode hinterlassen hat, die Himmelfahrt des Christus. Für diejenigen, die da sagen, daß Raffael in der letzten Zeit seines Lebens zu visiionären Bildern übergegangen ist, braucht ja nur geltend gemacht zu werden, daß diese eine Figur hier
219 Raffael Die Transfiguration, Teil: Der besessene Knabe
in ganz wirklich okkult-realistischem Sinne bewirkt, daß solch eine Szene sichtbar wird für die anderen, daß sie durch die, ich möchte sagen mediale Natur der Bewußtlosigkeit des Wahnsinns auf die anderen Gestalten wirkt, so daß sie so etwas sehen können.
217 Raffael Die Transfiguration
Nun haben wir noch die Christus-Figur selbst aus dem Bilde:
218 Raffael Die Transfiguration, Teil: Christus
Und nun bedenken Sie: Was Raffael so gemalt hat, was Sie nun verfolgt haben, fiel in die Zeit von seinem 21. bis zu seinem 37. Jahr, in dem er gestorben ist. Im 21. Jahre malte er das Bild, das wir als erstes hier geschen haben (178/75a), das Gegenbild zu dem Peruginoschen Bilde «Die Vermählung der Maria» (75). Nun hat schon Herman Grimm sehr schön etwas ausgerechnet, was in großartigem Sinne für die selbständige Entwickelung, für die ganz selbständige Entwickelung Raffaels spricht und was in gewissem Sinne ein äußerer Beweis ist für das, was ich gesagt habe: daß Raffael, trotzdem er auf den Boden getragen worden ist und selbstverständlich viel gelernt hat in der Welt, die eigene Natur dieses mittleren, dieses östlichen Teiles von Mittelitalien nach Rom hinübergebracht hat, weil er trotz seiner Jugend aus dem Innersten seiner Natur heraus schuf und in ganz regelrechter Entwikkelung vorwärts ging. Herman Grimm hat ausgerechnet, daß man die hauptsächlichsten Höhepunkte des Raffaelischen Schaffens bekommt, wenn man von diesem 21. Jahre weitergeht und immer vierjährige Perioden annimmt: im 21. Jahre eben die «Vermählung der Maria»; vier Jahre darauf etwas, was für ihn sehr charakteristisch ist, was wir hier nicht zeigen konnten, da wir das Diapositiv noch nicht haben, die «Grablegung», die besonders durch die Zeichnungen, die sich darauf beziehen, durch das Ganze, was damit zusammenhängt, einen Höhepunkt bei Raffael zum Ausdruck bringt.
Raffael
225* Die Grablegung
226* Entwurf zu einer «Beweinung»
227* Der Tod Meleagers
228* Entwurf zur «Grablegung»: Die drei Träger
229* Entwurf zur «Grablegung»
Dann wiederum der Höhepunkt beim Schaffen in der «Camera della Segnatura» vier Jahre darauf. Und so von vier zu vier Jahren fortschreitend sehen wir, wie Raffael eine Entwickelung durchmacht wie - ich möchte sagen: ganz individuell in der Welt drinnenstehend - einem Impuls, der eben nur an seine Inkarnation gebunden war, folgend und diesen Impuls entwikkelnd; etwas in die Welt hineinstellend, das in ganz regelrechter Menschheitsevolution abläuft.
Und nun nehmen Sie dies zusammen, wie diese drei Menschen Lionardo, Michelangelo, Raffael - dastehen als ein künstlerischer Höhepunkt in der Entwickelung der Menschheit, der - es liegt dies im Tragischen, das in der menschlichen Entwickelung enthalten ist — geknüpft ist an eine Papstfolge: Alexander VI. Borgia, Julius II., Leo X., Charaktere, die in bezug auf künstlerische Intentionen zu den ersten der Menschen gehören, die zu gleicher Zeit geeignet waren, in die Orte, an denen sie berufen waren regierend in die Menschheitsentwickelung einzugreifen, das Äußerste hineinzutragen, was in der damaligen Zeit geleistet werden konnte an Verwendung von Regierungsmitteln wie Mord, Verstellung, Grausamkeit, Giftmischerei, die es aber ganz unzweifelhaft ehrlich meinten in der Kunst - bis eben zu den Medici-Päpsten hin, die im Kaufmanns-Standpunkt verblieben in der Gesinnung. Julius II. war ein merkwürdiger Mensch, zu jeder Grausamkeit geneigt, niemals zurückschreckend vor Verstellung, Gift wie ein Mittel gebrauchend, das eben zum weltgeschichtlichen Hausgebrauch ganz gut ist, aber ein Mensch, von dem man mit Recht zugleich sagte, daß er niemals etwas versprochen hat, was er nicht gehalten hat. Und den Künstlern, die er niemals gebunden hat, hat er in hohem Maße dasjenige gehalten, was er ihnen versprochen hatte, sofern sie ihm die Dienste leisten konnten bei dem, wozu er sie bestimmt hatte und was er in einer gewissen Art arbeiten lassen wollte.
Nehmen Sie nun neben dieser Papstfolge diese großen Charaktere, die die Werke geschaffen haben, drei große Charaktere, die wir heute an unserer Seele haben vorbeigleiten sehen, und bedenken Sie, wie in dem einen, in Lionardo gelebt hat dasjenige, was heute noch nicht zur Entwickelung gekommen ist, wie in Michelangelo gelebt hat die ganze Tragik seiner Zeit und seines engeren und weiteren Vaterlandes und wie in Raffael gelebt hat die Möglichkeit, fertig zu werden mit dieser ganzen Zeit dadurch, daß er zwar empfänglich war, man möchte sagen bis zur Sensitivität empfänglich für alles dasjenige, auf dem er getragen wurde wie auf den Wogen der Zeit, aber wie er zu gleicher Zeit eine in sich abgeschlossene Natur ist. Und bedenken Sie, daß weder Lionardo noch Michelangelo in die Zeit dasjenige hineintragen konnten, was auf die Zeit wirken konnte. Michelangelo rang nach Herausgestaltung alles dessen, was in der Zeit war, aus der menschlichen Individualität. Er konnte im Grunde genommen nie etwas schaffen, was die Zeit voll aufnehmen konnte; Lionardo erst recht nicht, weil er viel Größeres, als in seiner Zeit aufgenommen werden konnte, in seiner Seele trug. Raffael entwikkelte eine solche Menschlichkeit, die jung blieb. Und wie von einer weisen Weltenlenkung, möchte ich sagen, war er bestimmt, eine solche Jugend zu entwickeln mit einer solchen Intensität, die nicht alt werden konnte, nicht alt werden sollte, weil ja die Zeit, in die das, was aus seinem Impulse kommt, hineingeboren werden sollte, selbst zunächst jung werden sollte. Jetzt erst kommt die Zeit, in der man immer mehr und mehr anfangen wird, Raffael weniger zu verstehen, weil die Zeit schon älter geworden ist als dasjenige, was Raffael seiner Zeit geben konnte.
Und zum Schluß noch einige Porträts, die Raffael geliefert hat.
220 Raffael Papst Julius II.
221 Raffael Papst Leo X.
Das sind also die beiden Päpste, die seine Protektoren gewesen sind.
222 Raffael Weibliches Bildnis
223 Raffael Conte Baldassare Castiglione
Damit sind wir am Schluß.
Wir werden nun, wenn wir es in der nächsten Zeit können, zur Ergänzung dieser Schöpfungen der großen Meister der Renaissance die Parallelerscheinungen des südlichen Europas im Norden - Holbein, Dürer und die anderen deutschen Meister - ins Auge fassen. Heute sollten gerade die drei Meister der Renaissance vor unsere Seele treten, und ich versuchte, Ihnen auch einiges von dem zu charakterisieren, was gerade in diesen Meistern lebte und was sie mit ihrer Zeit verband. Sie werden große Anregungen empfangen, wenn Sie das Kulturhistorische, das gerade in diese drei Meister hereingewirkt hat, irgendwo anfassen und die Tragik der menschlichen Geschichte, die notwendige Tragik der menschlichen Geschichte, die sich in Einseitigkeit ausleben muß, ins Auge fassen: wie namentlich in die Zeit von Florenz, die Raffael, Michelangelo, Lionardo groß gemacht hat, das weltgeschichtliche Werden hereinspielt in einer Art, die lehrreich ist zum Beurteilen alles Geschichtlichen. Ich glaube nicht, daß gerade heute jemand es bereuen wird, wenn er, mit dem Blick für weltgeschichtliche Tatsachen auf allen Gebieten und mit dem Blick für die Bedeutung der äußeren politischen Dinge für das geistige Leben, gerade einen solchen Zeitabschnitt heranzieht wie das Jahr 1504 auf 1505, in welchem in Florenz zu gleicher Zeit sind Michelangelo, Lionardo und auch Raffael — Raffael mehr noch als jüngerer Mensch, lernend von den anderen -, die beiden anderen im Wettstreit miteinander, Schlachtenbilder malend, Taten verherrlichend, die der politischen Geschichte angehören. Wenn jemand das auf sich wirken läßt, was dazumal gespielt hat und wie in dem, was äußerliche Ereignisse sind, das Künstlerische seinen Platz sucht, wie aber durch das, was so Künstlerisches und äußerlich Ereignisreiches ist, hereinwirken die größten Impulse der menschlichen Evolution, wie dazumal ineinander verwoben wird menschliche Brutalität - menschlicher Hochsinn, menschliche Tyrannei — menschliches Freiheitsstreben, wie sie dazumal ineinander verwoben sind, so wird er, wenn er diese Dinge von irgendeiner Seite auf sich wirken läßt, nicht die Zeit bereuen, die er darauf verwendet hat; denn er wird viel lernen auch für die Beurteilung der Gegenwart, wird sich in vielem abgewöhnen können den Glauben, daß die größten Worte auch bedeuten den Ausdruck für die größten Ideen und daß diejenigen, die in unserer Zeit am meisten von Freiheit sprechen, oftmals auch nur irgend etwas von dieser Freiheit verstehen. Aber auch in anderen Zusammenhängen unserer Zeit kann vieles gewonnen werden an Schärfung des Urteiles gerade durch die Betrachtung der Ereignisse in Florenz zu Beginn des 16. Jahrhunderts, jenes Florenz, das dazumal unter dem Eindruck stand des eben hingerichteten Savonarola, jenes Florenz, das mitten drinnen stand in derjenigen Zeit Italiens, als das Christentum eine Gestalt angenommen hatte, durch die es hinüberglitt in die Kunst, eine Gestalt, gegen die zugleich das moralische Empfinden der Menschheit lebendig protestiert hat, eine Gestalt, die urverschieden war von derjenigen, die dann zunächst in die politisch-religiöse Entwickelung als Jesuitismus hineingetragen worden ist und die vielfach in der Politik der folgenden Jahrhunderte bis in unsere Tage herein eine große Rolle gespielt hat.
Mehr zu sagen über diese Dinge ist ja in der heutigen Zeit nicht angängig. Aber vielleicht wird mancher mehr erraten, wenn er gerade das Kapitel menschlicher Entwickelung, von dem wir heute den künstlerischen Ausdruck auf unsere Seele haben wirken lassen, wenn er sich gerade dieses einmal an sehen wird.
2. Leonardo Michelangelo Raphael
The three great Renaissance masters:
Some time ago, we presented the art of that period, which then flowed into that of the great Renaissance masters. The observations we made at that time were aimed at showing the connections in the artistic world of feeling that led to what was then summarized in a magnificent way by Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael. With these three great masters of the Renaissance, we find, in an artistic sense, a starting point for the new era at the dawn of the fifth post-Atlantean epoch, as it has been announced artistically. They fall precisely at the beginning of this fifth post-Atlantic epoch: Leonardo was born in 1452, Michelangelo in 1475, and Raphael in 1483; Leonardo died in 1519, Raphael in 1520, and Michelangelo in 1564. This brings us to the starting point. But at the same time, these artists embody something that can be regarded as a conclusion, a summary of the intellectual currents of the preceding era, of how these preceding eras poured into the artistic realm. However, in our time today, we do not have a very immediate understanding of what this entails. For in our time, art has, in a sense, been driven out too strongly, or at least — and this need not be seen as a criticism — it has been driven out of the common spiritual life; and often one even finds that it is perceived as a deficiency when the cultural-historical observer wants to place art back into the overall spiritual life. For it is believed that this distances us too much from the actual artistic, from the aesthetic, and places too much emphasis on the content, on the material aspect. But that does not have to be the case. This difference is actually more significant for our time; it did not have such immediate significance in earlier times, when the artistic understanding was more developed in the human mind. We must remember how hard work has been done to eradicate the actual artistic understanding through all the horrors that have been presented to the human mind in recent times as representations, pictorial representations. We must not underestimate how much understanding of the “how” has been lost as a result of the fact that, in a certain sense, it has become indifferent to Europe to perceive the ‘what’ in any “how.” And so artistic understanding has been lost to a great extent in the widest circles.
When speaking of such older times as those we are dealing with again today, it must be said that artists such as Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo are by no means one-sided artists, but carry the entire spiritual life in their souls and create out of the spiritual life, out of the spiritual life of their time. this does not mean that they took their material from this spiritual life, but rather that the specific artistic nature of their work, the specific nature of what can be called a worldview at that time, flowed into it in the form of shapes and colors. For the present time, a worldview is a sum of ideas which, when sculpted or painted, can of course be embodied in forms, colors, and the like that show the greatest barbarism for an artistic conception. In this regard, admonitions must always be given, especially within our anthroposophical development, because the feeling for what is truly artistic is not widespread in our circles. I still remember with a shudder how, in the early days of our theosophical movement, a man once came to Berlin and brought reproductions of a picture he had painted: The Buddha under the Bodhi tree. Well, there was a crooked figure sitting under a tree, but the man understood as much about art — forgive the trivial expression, but it can be used here — as an ox on Sunday after eating grass all week; he thought that if you just put something down that is a motif, it represents something. It did represent something, namely, the person who imagines the whole scene—Buddha under the Bodhi tree—can see that. But there is no reason why it should be done that way.
But it is something else when one speaks of Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Raphael, who carried within their souls the whole sensibility that permeated Italian culture at that time. For in their work, this culture lived on in the artistic mode of representation, and one cannot fully understand these artists if one views them without a feeling for this culture. People believe some very strange things today. For example, they believe that someone can build a Gothic church even if they have no idea about the sacrifice of the Mass. Of course, in reality, they cannot. They believe that someone can paint the Trinity who has no feeling for what is supposed to live in the Trinity. This is what is pushing art away today. But on the other hand, one does not understand what is specifically artistic if one thinks that one can simply criticize Raphael or Michelangelo or Leonardo with the feelings and aesthetic views that one has in art today, because their whole feeling and perception is different from what has become established today. It was natural for them—I cannot elaborate further today, and it would take many hours to say what actually needs to be said—it was natural for them to live within the whole sensibility of their time, and one cannot understand their work without understanding the character that Christianity had assumed at the time of its flourishing. Just think that at the end of the 15th century and the beginning of the 16th century, even among the popes in Italy, there were those who truly could not be said to have met even the most primitive standards of what, even if one is not a Pietist, one calls morality. And the entire clergy was, of course, of the same ilk. The idea that a specifically moral impulse should live in what we call Christianity had been relatively lost at that time. On the other hand, precisely because of this loss of what later reappeared in pietistic, moralizing movements, and which is not identical with what I recently told you about Francis of Assisi—in what reappeared there lives a different feeling toward Christianity than that which filled the people who followed let us say, of a Pope Alexander VI, a Julius II, a Leo X. But if one looks at what Christian tradition is, what ideas and views are connected to the mystery of Golgotha, then these views, these ideas — by which I also mean imaginations — were certainly present in souls with a strength that is unimaginable today. Souls lived in these ideas, which were linked to the mystery of Golgotha, as if they were their world. And they also saw nature as part of this world. One must realize that at that time, even for the most educated, this earth, of which the western half was not yet known, or at least was only just becoming known, but which was not yet taken into account, was the center of the world. Going down beneath the surface of the earth, one found an underground realm — going up just a little, a super-earthly realm. One might say: at that time, it was as if one only had to raise one's arm to be able to touch the feet of the super-earthly beings with one's hand; heaven definitely protruded into the earthly element. And in the sense of such a view, of a harmony between the super- and subterranean spiritual with the sensory world that encompasses human beings, in the sense of such a view, the view of nature was also held.
It was from this time that the three great masters of the Renaissance emerged. And the one who, I would say, already contained within himself the seeds of everything that has happened since that time and everything that is yet to come, was Leonardo.
Leonardo had a soul that was just as attuned to the sensibilities of earlier times as it was to those of later times. Leonardo had a spiritual Janus face in his soul. Through his education, his lifestyle, and what he had seen, his feelings were rooted in the olden days, but he had a powerful urge toward the worldview that the newer era was bringing forth, not so much toward the breadth of this worldview as toward its depth. You know from the various hints I have made in my lectures that the Greeks, and indeed the later fourth post-Atlantean period, knew life in a completely different way, from completely different sources than later times. The sculptor of this period knew the human figure from within, from a perception of the forces that were still within him as forces that we today refer to as the etheric body, and he created much more from this feeling of this form, from which the Greek artist worked entirely. This ability ceased, and external abilities had to emerge to take things back from external observation, so that one was compelled to feel and understand nature. And I have shown you how one of the first to seek to feel nature out of a deep sense of feeling was Francis of Assisi. The first to seek an understanding of nature in a comprehensive sense out of this feeling for nature was Leonardo. Because he was no longer able to do so as earlier people had, he tried to pursue from within what works as forces in human beings themselves; he tried to get to know it through external observation, tried to get to know through external observation what could no longer be known through inner feeling. Understanding nature, as opposed to feeling nature, distinguished Leonardo from Francis of Assisi. But this also conditioned Leonardo's entire state of mind, which was entirely focused on understanding. And what is said—one need not take it literally, for the sources actually speak more or less only of legends, but nevertheless these are based on reality—that Leonardo made special efforts to make the workings of the human energy organism his inner experience by observing characteristic human faces, there is certainly some truth in this. There is some truth in the fact that he often followed particularly characteristic figures for days on end in order to understand, as it were, how their essence influenced their form. It is also true that he invited farmers to his home, served them their favorite foods, and told them stories that made them laugh and contort their faces in all kinds of ways so that he could study them. The fact that, when he wanted to paint a Medusa-like face, he brought all kinds of ugly toads and similar creatures into his studio to study their characteristic animal faces is part of the legendary narrative, but it indicates how Leonardo had to search in order to listen to the mysterious workings of nature in its powers. For Lionardo was truly a man who sought to understand nature.
He also endeavored to understand the forces of nature in a broader sense, in terms of how they can affect human life. He was not merely an artist in the narrowest sense, but rather, the artist emerged from his whole being, and his whole being was immersed in the changing times. For example, in Florence, he wanted to raise the Church of San Giovanni, which had sunk too deep into the ground due to the gradual elevation of the pavement—a task that would be easy to carry out today, but which was considered hopeless at the time—he wanted to raise it as a whole. Today, as Herman Grimm rightly pointed out, such a task would only involve calculating the costs; at that time, it was a brilliant idea, because no one except Lionardo thought it possible. He thought of building devices that would enable humans to fly through the air and drain large swamp areas; he was an engineer, a mechanic, a musician, an educated man in intellectual circles and a scientist of his time, constructing devices that were so unheard of at the time that no one except Lionardo knew what to do with them.
So, based on a broad understanding of the world, what he had in his hands continued to have an effect. It can truly be said of Leonardo that he carried within him the revolutionary forces of his entire era. He carried his era within him, as it was expressed at that time in the upheavals in Italy. And one might say that his entire life, including his artistic life, is an imprint of his fundamental character. Although he grew out of Italian circumstances, he is not really at home there. He was a Florentine, but he only spent his youth in Florence, leaving for Milan because he was summoned by Duke Lodovico Sforza, as a kind of court entertainer, not at all as the great artist that we might think of Leonardo today. Leonardo had made a musical instrument out of a horse's skull, developed tones on it, and was able to amuse the ducal house of Milan with great humor, as well as with many other things. It goes without saying that he was supposed to be a kind of court jester, but he was actually appointed as a court entertainer to amuse the court. And what he then achieved in Milan, which we will discuss later, he did basically out of the innermost urge of his being. But he had not been drawn to the court of the Sforza primarily to accomplish these achievements. Even though he settled in Milan, when he later returned to Florence, he again painted a battle scene intended to glorify a victory over Milan! And then we see him end his life at the French court.
Lionardo is actually quite intent on seeing and feeling only what interests him in people of his time. The political events of the time, which were so complicated, more or less passed him by. He always emphasized the highest level of humanity; in many respects, he even gave the impression of being an adventurer, but an adventurer endowed with tremendous genius. He carries his entire era within him, and his creations arise from his feelings about his entire era. We do not want to present them chronologically, but in a free order, because with Lionardo in particular, it is more important to see how he creates from a single impulse. That is why chronology is less important.
Michelangelo is of a completely different nature, although he has the Renaissance in common with Leonardo.
If one can say of Leonardo that he carried the whole of his time in his bosom and therefore often came into disharmony with his time and remained misunderstood because he already used it in all its depths and with forces that were only to emerge in the course of later centuries, then one can say of Michelangelo: he truly carried the Florence of his time within him. But what was Florence? In a sense, Florence was truly a distillation of the world order of that time. And he carried this Florence within him. He carried it within him in such a way that one can say: he is not, like Leonardo, distant from political circumstances, but rather, the complex political events of the time—and the entire world order played into politics at that time—the events of the dawning phase of his era had a repeated effect on his soul. And when Michelangelo repeatedly goes to Rome, he carries his Florence with him to Rome and paints and shapes a Florentine sensibility into Roman culture. Leonardo carries a world sensibility into the things he has created. Michelangelo carries Florentine sensibility into his artistic work. He even carries Florentine sensibility over to Rome; in a sense, he conquers Rome spiritually as an artist by reviving Florence in Rome. Michelangelo experiences what is happening in Florence during his lifetime as a result of the political circumstances. This can also be seen in the sequence of his life periods.
At the beginning of his career, as a very young man, he first encounters the great Medici. He becomes the favorite of the great Medici, who elevates him to everything that could be absorbed into intellectual life in Florence at that time. Michelangelo studied everything that could be studied about ancient art and ancient art forms in Florence at that time under the patronage of the Medici. And he created his first works under the patronage of the Medici. He loved his patron; he grew together in his own soul with the soul of this Medici patron. Then he had to experience that the sons of his patron were of a completely different nature. The patron, who, although ambitious by nature, had achieved great things for Florence by granting freedom, died in 1492, and his sons proved to be more or less ordinary tyrants. Michelangelo had to experience this reversal at a relatively early age. He had to experience that, while at the beginning of his career the Medici merchant spirit had given free rein to art, now the merchant spirit was playing itself out as a political spirit and striving for tyranny. And he experienced how Florence, initially on a small scale, showed signs of what would later engulf the whole world. This was a terrible experience for him, but one that was also connected with the whole transformation of the modern era.
He goes to Rome for the first time. And one can say that in Rome he mourns what he himself experienced as the greatness of Florence. And one can see how Michelangelo's form-giving is connected with this change in sensibility. Even in the lines, one can see what this political upheaval in Florence has done to his mind. And anyone who is sensitive to such things will notice in the “Pieta” (127) in the Vatican that it basically originates from the grieving Michelangelo, from Michelangelo mourning his hometown.
And when better times began again for Florence and he returned, he was once more under the impression of being uplifted, but uplifted precisely because freedom had returned to Florence. And so he poured this transformed feeling into the indescribably great character figure of his “David,” which he erected (129). This David does not embody the biblical David as he was traditionally understood; this David embodies the protest of free Florence against the encroaching power of the great states, and the colossal nature of the statue is connected with this feeling.
And when he is then called upon by Pope Julius to paint the Sistine Chapel, he first carries his Florence to Rome in the true sense. What does he then carry to Rome? - He carries to Rome an entire worldview, a worldview that can just as well be said to represent the new era as it can be said: In what Michelangelo creates in Rome in the Sistine Chapel in the becoming of the world and in the becoming of biblical history (132-156), an old worldview comes to an end. Michelangelo carries an entire world over to Rome. He brought with him what could not arise in Rome at that time, what could not arise spiritually in Rome, what could only arise in Florence: the view of this world context from the very beginning to the historical context in connection with all the prophetic and Sibylline gifts of human beings – you will find explanations of these things in my earlier lectures – these connections had to be felt in Florence. For what Michelangelo felt at that time, and indeed felt from what had reached its peak in Florence, can no longer be felt today without placing oneself spiritually in earlier times; That is why there is so much nonsense in the usual art histories about these things — one can no longer empathize with them; for one can only create as Michelangelo did if one truly believes in these things, if one is immersed in them. It is easy to say: one paints the becoming of the world. Many artists of today would also claim to be capable of this. Anyone who has feeling will not be able to agree with this, for the simple reason that no one who is not as deeply involved with their whole soul as Michelangelo was can paint the creation of the world.
And when he returns to Florence, he is basically driven back there by the current that, I would say, replaces the sacramental character with the commercial character. He is then supposed to create significant works, and he does so in the Medici Chapel (157-164). But there was something in the background that made Michelangelo feel pessimistic about the whole undertaking. It was about the glorification of the Medici family—and that was what mattered at first—who had become powerful, less in Florence at that time than in the rest of Italy.
And when he was driven back to Rome by the circumstances brought about by Malatesta Baglioni's betrayal, by the re-entry of the Medici, the end of freedom in Florence, he painted – one might say as a protest by a Florentine – directly as a painter in the “Last Judgment” the great protest of humanity against all that is contrary to human individuality (167-169). This gives the “Last Judgment” its human greatness, that human greatness which it certainly exuded immediately when it emerged from Michelangelo's hand. Now it is, in part, completely spoiled.
But now he is once again experiencing what resonates deeply, deeply in all the impulses of his soul. What events had he already experienced that were significant for the development of his worldview! — I have pointed out important things to you that are taken abstractly today, but which were quite profound impulses in Michelangelo's soul. To this we must add that he witnessed the upheaval that took place in Florence with the appearance of Savonarola. This led to protest in church life against what characterized the Christian world at that time. Such free artistry as asserted itself in Leonardo and in many others of his kind could only develop by separating from the moral element the ideas of Christianity as they had become linked to the mystery of Golgotha: the ideas about the Trinity, about the Last Supper, about the connection between the earthly and the supersensible, and so on. Removed from the moral element, these ideas had taken on an imaginative character, a free imaginative character, with which one worked as with something worldly, except that the sacred figures were present in it. They had been made objective, detached from morality. As a result, Christian ideas detached from moral ideas slide over into the purely artistic. They slide over quite naturally, but the way in which they have slid over involves, in a sense, this stripping away of morality. Savonarola is the great protest against this stripping away of morality. Savonarola appears, the protest of morality against art that is free of morality—I do not say immoral, but free of morality. And one must study Savonarola's intentions if one wants to understand what is in Michelangelo that originated with him and what he brought about. But then he experienced something else. This Michelangelo, who never thought anything other than Christian thoughts in his innermost mind, who not only felt Christian, but also imagined the world order in a Christian sense, was placed in a time when, I would say, Christian ideas had become objective and could thus easily slip into the realm of art. He was placed in this era, and so he experienced the northern protest of the Reformation, which spread relatively quickly to Italy. And then he experienced the whole upheaval that took place on the part of Catholicism as a counter-reformation against the Reformation. He experienced how, in Rome at that time, free spirits, who were perhaps not of high moral standing, lived and were quite agreeable to giving Catholicism a new form, not wanting to go as far as Savonarola, but wanting to give Catholicism a form that would allow it to continue to develop without taking on the form that emerged in the Reformation. still be able to develop continuously. Then the Reformation broke out as, I would say, another edition of Savonarola's protest. Then Rome became fearful and said goodbye to everything that had pulsated through earlier life. It was ideas such as those concentrated in Vittoria Colonna, for example, that Michelangelo also placed great hopes in: a moralization of what had reached artistic heights, and with this moralized Catholicism slowly re-establishing itself in the world. The Roman rulers, the Catholic rulers, now introduced the Jesuit principle into these thoroughly freer Catholic ideas, and Paul IV became pope. This was certainly a terrible experience for Michelangelo, for he saw the beginnings of a break with what he still knew as Christianity. Jesuit Christianity was born.
And so he entered his twilight years. I said that he had carried Florence to Rome.
Raphael actually carried Urbino to Rome, eastern central Italy, which is imbued with a strange magic that can be sensed when one looks at the lesser artists of this region from whom Raphael developed. In their creations, with their lovely faces, their characteristic poses, their whole demeanor, there is something that I would like to describe as follows: what appeared earlier in the moralizing and ascetic realm of Francis of Assisi has become artistic in a somewhat later period; it has entered into artistic creation and perception. There lives the peculiar magical breath of the tender contemplation of nature and man. This is innate in Raphael, and he basically expresses it throughout his entire life. And he carries this feeling to Rome; it flows from his creations into our minds when we imagine the way these creations were, even though many of them have been corrupted as works of art. And what Raphael carries in his soul is precisely because it developed, I would say, in the solitude of Urbino, something that also stands alone in that era and that spread into human culture precisely through Raphael. developed in the solitude of Urbino, something that also stands alone in that time and that spread from Raphael into human culture. It is as if Raphael is carried by this element, as if on the waves of time, and everywhere, carried by the waves of time, he asserts this element, this genuine artistic expression of Christian feelings as artistic feelings. This is poured out everywhere in Raphael's works.
So, I would say, Leonardo stands within the great world events, piercing everywhere with his sharp understanding of the world; Michelangelo stands within the political understanding of the time and makes this into an expressive impulse of feeling; Raphael remains quite untouched by all this, is carried by the waves of time and carries an almost inexpressible Christian artistry into the development of the times. This is what distinguishes and unites these three great masters of the Renaissance; for they represent three moments in Renaissance sensibility, as it may appear to us historically.
And now let us first allow Leonardo's works of art to have a visual effect on us. We will see how this art presents itself. Therefore, we will first show Leonardo's drawings, showing how he creates in his entire manner of drawing from this understanding of nature, which I have attempted to characterize. Then we will show his portrait-like paintings—not entirely in historical order—and only then move on to his main creation, The Last Supper, before returning to what shows him at his starting point.
First, we will show you a well-known self-portrait of Leonardo:
85 Leonardo da Vinci Self-Portrait, Milan
This is one of Leonardo's self-portraits. The other is the better known one:
86 Leonardo da Vinci Self-Portrait, Turin
Then we have a painting from Leonardo's formative period,
92 Verrocchio/Leonardo The Baptism of Christ
which actually shows how Leonardo developed from Verrocchio's school. The small figures you see are certainly Verrocchio's figures, while it is traditional to believe that, for example, the landscape in the fine execution around this figure here [Christ] was painted by Leonardo. And it is considered traditional that only one angel was painted by him in Verrocchio's school and that Verrocchio, when he saw what Leonardo could paint in his pictures, put down his brush and no longer wanted to paint himself.
Now we have a drawing of caricatures:
88 Leonardo da Vinci caricatures, Windsor
Here you can see the way Leonardo drew, how he tried to bring out the characteristic features to the point of caricature from the observation he had just made in the way I tried to characterize it.
One should not believe that Lionardo stands alone with such things. Similar things had already been done by others at that time; it is just that Lionardo stands out with his particular genius. But this search for the characteristic in contrast to what had previously been idealized in art and what had resulted from a higher perception in earlier times and then become traditional, this search for the immediately characteristic as it arises from perception, and the highlighting of what emerges from perception as particularly significant for the individuality of beings, was already a search of the time.
Now another drawing, which deals with death:
89 Leonardo da Vinci Allegory of Envy
This is really much more than the motif of studying the position of the bones and the like.
Now a character head,
90 Leonardo da Vinci Bust of a Warrior
and a drawing of a landscape:
91 Leonardo da Vinci Rainy Landscape
93 Leonardo da Vinci Portrait of a Woman
This picture (93) and the following one (94) are the two pictures that are not authenticated as
Leonardo's works, but which bear Leonardo's character and are therefore not entirely unrelated to him at that time:
94 Leonardo da Vinci The so-called “Belle Ferroniere”
Now here is the famous painting in which you can see the other side of Leonardo, the side where he, I would say, seeks the opposite pole to the one illustrated earlier by the drawings, in which he attempts to shape the characteristic, where he attempts to bring out the individual in the detail.
96 Leonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa
One does not usually believe that an artist who creates something like the “Mona Lisa” also needs the other, which borders on caricature. But I have tried to hint at this when I have often spoken of the naturalness that drove our friend Christian Morgenstern from his sublime creations to those that we also know as sometimes caricature-like. This is precisely the connection in the artist's soul that is necessary when dealing with something so rounded and serene: to seek the forces for the creation of such serenity by developing the characteristic to the point of caricature.
We now present further images—not arranged in strictly historical order—which show Leonardo in the character of an artist seeking roundness, precisely this aforementioned elaboration:
95 Leonardo da Vinci Madonna Litta
120 Leonardo da Vinci Dionysus-Bacchus
Here is the figure of Dionysus, the god Dionysus. You will find some references to this in various lectures I have given in the past.
121 Leonardo da Vinci John the Baptist
Then a Madonna with the infant Jesus in the grotto:
98 Leonardo da Vinci Madonna in the Rock Grotto
Now we come to the “Last Supper,” which was created earlier,
99 Leonardo da Vinci The Last Supper
which was painted in Milan over a long period of time [1495-98] in the monastery of Santa Maria delle Grazie. We have often talked about it. We know that this “Last Supper” represents a significant advance in artistic design compared to earlier depictions of the Last Supper—Ghirlandajo (57) and others. If you observe the whole of life in the painting, you will find that, despite all the compositional elements, the characteristics of the figures stand out so strongly that you can see in them something completely new — as I pointed out recently — in Leonardo. The harmony, the characteristic harmony of the composition, is indeed taken to the most wonderful extremes in this painting. The four groups of disciples form a complete trinity everywhere, and each of these trinities in turn fits into the whole in a wonderful way, with color and light development in the most wonderful way! — And I have already pointed out how this also plays into the color scheme of the composition. This is something that allows one to see right into the whole, into the mystery of Leonardo's work, when one tries to perceive the colors of the entire painting together and feels that they are distributed throughout the painting in such a way that they complement each other — I would not say complementary colors, but in a similar way to complementary colors, so that when you look at the whole, you actually have a pure
light, the colors are pure light. — This is also evident in the color scheme of this painting:
109* Unknown master The Last Supper, fresco copy after Leonardo
These are individual figures from the painting, groups of disciples, as they are also in Weimar.
Leonardo da Vinci: The Last Supper, groups of apostles:
114 Thomas, James the Greater, Philip
112 Judas, Peter, John
113* Bartholomew, James the Younger, Andrew
115* Matthew, Thaddeus, Simon
Here is a head of Christ, which is believed to be an early attempt:
108 Leonardo da Vinci (?) Head of Christ
110 Raphael Morghen The Last Supper, copperplate engraving after Leonardo
This is Morghen's engraving of “The Last Supper” [completed in 1800], which gives a more accurate idea of the composition than the current state of the painting in Milan, which is actually completely ruined. You are familiar with the fate of the painting, which has also been recounted frequently here.
111 Rudolf Stang The Last Supper, copy after Leonardo
This is an engraving made in more recent times [1887], by Stang, who attempts to give an idea of the painting through a detailed study of the individual elements; which is widely admired, but which, for those who love the painting from an artistic point of view, is perhaps a beautiful independent artistic achievement in this field, but which nevertheless distracts too much from what is in the painting to something that is finely drawn.
Leonardo da Vinci
118 St. Jerome
117 The Annunciation
119 Battle of Anghiari, center group?, copperplate engraving by G. Edelinck after Rubens' chalk copy
Here we have a small piece of what Leonardo wanted to paint as his “battle painting,” which I mentioned earlier.
If you think about Leonardo again, you will see that he has something in him that comes into effect when you don't take the chronological order, which is not very fixed anyway, but let the things work on you in groups, as we have just done. You can see that there are quite different currents living in Leonardo. One current, which is particularly evident in “The Last Supper,” I would say toward the characteristic compositional, stands on its own—and it stands alongside the current that does not go toward this compositional, which could have emerged at any time, except that, by chance, there are no images of this kind from every period, which is expressed in the paintings in the Louvre that we showed before The Last Supper (99) (94; 96-98; 120, 121). These express something that is in no way reminiscent of the compositional aspects of “The Last Supper,” but rather aims at rounding off and only wants to be more or less characteristic.
Now we come to Michelangelo.
First, his self-portrait:
122 Michelangelo (?) Self-portrait
123 Michelangelo The Battle of the Centaurs and Lapiths
124 Michelangelo Madonna on the Stairs
This is still the dependent Michelangelo, who is actually still a student, working in Florence under the influence of Donatello's student Bertoldo and so on.
128 Michelangelo Bacchus
125 Michelangelo Madonna with Child and John the Baptist (Tondo Pitu)
And now let us think of Michelangelo, who, under the influences I have described, goes to Rome for the first time:
126 Michelangelo Madonna with Child
Look at this picture and then the next one and compare the mood of the two pictures.
127 Michelangelo Pietà, Rome, St. Peter's Basilica
Look at this painting. It was definitely created under the influence of Michelangelo's arrival in Rome, and a more or less tragic, magnificent pessimism pervades the whole work. Perhaps we should go back once more,
126 Michelangelo Madonna and Child
and you will see that these two creations are very similar in artistic character and definitely belong to the same nuance of feeling in Michelangelo. Let's go back to the “Pieta,”
127 Michelangelo Pietà, Rome, St. Peter's Basilica
which now stands in St. Peter's in Rome; when you enter, you will find it immediately on your right. People who appreciate the novelistic more than the artistic have often said about this sculpture that the Madonna is still so young in the position she is in here. This youthful representation is connected with a belief that was quite natural at the time and which also permeated Michelangelo's soul: that the Madonna, because of her virginity, has not taken on any old features at all.
129 Michelangelo David
Here you have what we discussed earlier. The figure is impressive because of its colossal size, which is not something external, but is mysteriously woven into the entire artistic work.
130 Michelangelo The Holy Family
Now we come to the Sistine Chapel
131 Michelangelo The Sistine Chapel
with Michelangelo's “Last Judgment” and its ceiling paintings. First, we present individual parts of the ceiling paintings:
132 Sistine Chapel The Separation of Light from Darkness
The creation of the world, the first stage, one might say: the creation of light out of night.
133 Sistine Chapel The Creation of the Sun, Moon, and Earth
Here we see how the tradition still lived on in relation to the creation of the world, that Jehovah created, as it were, as the successor to an earlier creator, who is overcome by him and who departs. The harmony between the new creation of the world and the old creation of the world, which has been overcome by the newer creation of the world, is evident here in this picture. And that is why one can also say: Such ideas, as expressed in this image, have completely faded away and are no longer there.
134 Sistine Chapel The Creation of the Animal World
This is the creation of that which preceded humanity.
135 Sistine Chapel The Creation of Adam
Here we find the creation of man — and then the creation of Eve:
136 Sistine Chapel The Creation of Eve
137 Sistine Chapel The Fall of Man and the Expulsion from Paradise
So here we are moving more and more from the creation of the world into history, into the development of the human race, into the Fall of Man.
Now we come to the Sibyls, about whom I once spoke in a lecture and who represent the supersensible element in human development, in contrast to the prophetic element, which will then appear in a series of prophets. So, the one element of the Sibyls:
138 Sistine Chapel The Erythraean Sibyl
You will find more detailed information about how this relates to the prophetic in the Leipzig lecture cycle. But the fact that Michelangelo included these things in his cycle of paintings at all proves how he connected earthly life to the supersensible element, to the spiritual. Now you can see how the Sibyls follow one after the other, how each one is imbued with a truly individual life, how each one expresses a very specific visionary character down to the smallest detail:
Sistine Chapel
139 The Cumaean Sibyl
140 The Delphic Sibyl
141 Bust of the Delphic Sibyl
Look at the position of her hands — this is no coincidence! — and when you see her in her entirety, with her gaze coming entirely from the elemental, then you will be able to sense many things — it cannot be put into words because it becomes too abstract, but it is artistically inherent in the subject matter.
142 Sistine Chapel The Libyan Sibyl
Now we come to the prophets:
Sistine Chapel
143 The Prophet Zechariah
144 The Prophet Jeremiah
145 The Prophet Joel
146 The Prophet Ezekiel
147 The Prophet Isaiah
148 The Prophet Jonah
149 The Prophet Daniel
These are all examples, aren't they, from depictions in the Old Testament:
Sistine Chapel
150 The Jacob Group
151 The Jesse Group
152 The Solomon Group
Finally, some of the young men above the Sibyls and prophets:
Sistine Chapel
153 Young man to the right above the Persian Sibyl
154 Young man to the left above the Persian Sibyl
155 Young man to the right above the prophet Daniel
156 Young man to the left above the prophet Daniel
Now we come to Michelangelo's further stays in Florence, that is, to the Medici family, to the Medici Chapel, where he was commissioned by the Medici popes to work under the conditions I have described. I spoke about these Medici tombs in a lecture, which has also been published in print. The tomb of Lorenzo de' Medici, commonly known as Giuliano.
Michelangelo, Medici Chapel Tomb of Lorenzo de' Medici 157 Overall view158 Lorenzo de' Medici
159 The Night
160 The Day
Tomb of Giuliano de' Medici
161 Overall view
162 Giuliano de' Medici
163 Evening
164 Morning
165 The Madonna Medici
And now we must accompany Michelangelo back to Rome, where he is once again working on a papal commission, “The Last Judgment,” the altarpiece of the Sistine Chapel:
167 Sistine Chapel The Last Judgment
The significance of the painting lies in the world importance of the characters. So when you look at everything that is destined for heaven, so to speak, and everything that is destined for the underworld, for hell, with Christ in the middle as the judge of the world, you can see how Michelangelo wanted to harmonize the entire grandly conceived world scene with a human individual sensibility. - Now follow some details from “The Last Judgment”:
168 Sistine Chapel The Last Judgment, part: Christ group
Herman Grimm once drew the head of Christ from close up, and it turned out to be very similar to the head of Apollo from Belvedere:
169 Head of Christ
170 Head of Apollo of Belvedere
Another detail from the lower right corner,
171 Sistine Chapel The Last Judgment, part: Charon with the boat
and another detail, the group above the boat:
172 Sistine Chapel The Last Judgment, part: group of the damned
And now, although it should be placed earlier in time, comes what Michelangelo made for the monument to Pope Julius:
173* Michelangelo's design for Julius' tomb, copy by Jacopo Rocchetti based on his teacher Michelangelo's drawing
It comes here only because the monument was not executed in its originally planned, more splendid form, and Michelangelo was still working on it, completing some parts of it in his final days.
What is significant is that Pope Julius II, who was indeed a truly grand character, wanted to have this monument erected in accordance with his own aspirations. It was to have a whole series of figures, perhaps thirty or more. This did not come to pass, and so the most significant figure associated with it remained the famous “Moses” figure, which I have discussed many times;
174 Michelangelo Moses
and what follows now,
176 Michelangelo Bound Slave
175 Michelangelo Dying Slave
166 Michelangelo Pietà, Florence, Cathedral Museum
was completed by Michelangelo in the very last period of his life. When you look at this “Entombment” – well, it is difficult to say how things actually stand. It is quite certain that this group corresponds to an idea that Michelangelo carried with him throughout his life. Whether there was a group that has somehow been lost, in which he worked on this scene as one of his first works, or whether it was perhaps the same block that he continued to rework in his old age, is difficult to say. But we show it here as Michelangelo's last work, because it is not only the one he completed in his old age, but also because it corresponds to an artistic idea that he carried throughout his life and which, more than one might think, is connected to Michelangelo's fundamental sensibility. He could certainly have created this group at any stage of his life; it would always have turned out slightly differently, reflecting the underlying mood of his soul in a different way. But the early Christian spirit that lives in Michelangelo is expressed precisely in this group – in this peculiar relationship between Christ and his mother in the burial scene. For again and again, the idea of the mystery of Golgotha arises in Michelangelo's soul in such a way that he feels particularly strongly that with the mystery of Golgotha, an act of supernatural love has taken place, with an intensity that should always remain before human eyes as a great ideal, but which can never even remotely be achieved by them, and which must make those who observe world events feel tragic.
Now imagine Michelangelo looking at the Jesuitization of Rome with this idea in his soul. With this idea in his soul, he actually went through all the feelings I have spoken of, always measuring what he saw in the world against it. And he had seen quite a lot in the world. - Just think: while he was working on his first artistic pieces, still in Florence, Pope Alexander VI Borgia was in Rome. Then he was called to Rome, where he worked on the “creation of the world” on behalf of Julius II. So we see the Borgia regime in Rome replaced by Pope Julius, then by Leo X of the Medici family. It must be understood that Pope Julius II, despite working with everything that can be called poison, murder, deception, and similar good qualities, he was very serious about Christian art, felt seriously that Pope Julius, who replaced the political Borgia princes, actually strove for the papacy in order to make the papacy great through spiritual life, although he was, of course, a man of war. But in his heart of hearts, he thought of himself as a warrior only in the service of spiritual Rome. And with Julius II, one must certainly take into account that he was a man of the spirit, that he was serious about his impulse to rebuild St. Peter's Church, serious in all that he did for art, selflessly serious about it. It sounds strange, to say this about a man who resorted to poisoning and so on to carry out his plans, but that was the custom of his time in the circles with which he realized his plans. But his highest goal was what he wanted to introduce into the world through the great artists of the world. And so it is deeply tragic for a spirit like Michelangelo's to feel that nothing completely good can ever be realized in the world, but must be realized in one-sidedness. And then he also had to go along with the transition to the commercial popes, if one may say so, who were from the House of Medici, who were more concerned with ambition and who really differed thoroughly from Julius II, even from the Borgia sentiments; in any case, they are no better. But one must judge all these phenomena from the perspective of the time. For it is, of course, easy today to regard Pope Alexander VI and his son Cesare Borgia or Julius II as abominations, because it is already possible to write about them independently, whereas some later events cannot yet be described with such freedom. At the same time, however, one must realize that the great things that happened at that time are causally related to what all these popes were, and what certainly would not have been if Savonarola or Luther had sat on the papal throne.
Now we come to Raphael.
177 Raphael (?) Self-portrait en
And now we will show what I mentioned earlier. Let us once again contemplate the “Sposalizio,”
75 Pietro Perugino “Lo Sposalizio”
75a Raphael “Lo Sposalizio”
where we have the motif by Perugino and next to it the marriage of Mary by Raphael. In this painting in particular, you can see how Raphael outgrew the school of Perugino, his teacher, and how he represented great progress. At the same time, in Perugino's painting (75) you see everything that is characteristic of this art, the level from which Raphael emerged, the peculiar, what we would today call healthy sentimental faces, the peculiar foot positions, everything that seeks a characteristic here; but all these characteristics are clothed in a certain aura, as I tried to characterize it earlier, which then reappears in Raphael, one might say as if transfigured, and is elevated to a compositional level in a different form. But you also see the composition outgrowing Perugino, only when you compare everything, it is sharper and at the same time gentler in Raphael, less harshly conceived.
Now follows a Christ with the stigmata:
179 Raphael The Blessing Christ
180 Raphael The Knight's Dream
The whole picture is to be understood as a dream world; it is usually called “The Knight's Dream.”
Now let us take in a series of Madonna paintings and paintings from the legends of the saints. These are the paintings that first brought Raphael's fame to the world, mainly the Madonna paintings.
Raphael 181 St. George with the Lance
182 Madonna di Terranova
183 Madonna Tempi
184 Madonna in the Green
185 Madonna with the Goldfinch
Everywhere in these paintings, we see the characteristic old posture and characteristic attitude that Raphael brought with him from his homeland.
Raphael
186 The Holy Family from the House of Canigiani
187 The Holy Family with the Lamb
188 Mary with the Child and John the Baptist (“The Beautiful Gardener”)
189 Madonna di Casa d'Alba
So now we have seen Madonnas that show Raphael's development particularly strongly.
Now let us follow him further into the period when he went to Rome. It is not known historically when he went to Rome. It is likely that he did not simply go to Rome in a specific year—as is commonly assumed, 1508—but that he had already been to Rome several times, returned to Florence, and then worked continuously in Rome from 1508 onwards. So now we follow him to Rome and come to the paintings he created there on behalf of Pope Julius.
197 Raphael Camera della Segnatura: “Disputa”
This painting, which is well known—we have also discussed it here—is a painting for which many drawings exist and which, as it is here, was commissioned by the Pope, the Pope who had the aspirations I mentioned earlier, who wanted to make Rome great in spiritual terms. But it should be noted that some of the motifs in this painting appear very early on in Raphael's work, in a painting from his Perugia period.
201 Raphael The Trinity
which depicts precisely this idea, this scene, or rather, the motif of this scene—this shows that this idea was a living one at the time, so alive that it was able to develop particularly in this remarkable eastern corner, in this landscape of central Italy.
We must imagine the motif as it was at that time: the people below, essentially theologians, theologians who at the same time know that everything that human reason finds relates precisely to what Thomas Aquinas called “Praeambula fidei” and must be permeated by what comes down from the spiritual worlds as inspiration; into which are mixed the achievements of the great Christian and pre-Christian figures of human development, through which the mystery of the Trinity is understood, which is to be imagined as breaking into their dispute while the theologians are disputing below, as it were. Now one can directly imagine that this picture was painted out of a desire to connect everything Christian with Rome from the ground up, to make Rome the center of Christianity once again by rebuilding St. Peter's Basilica, which had fallen into disrepair and was to be rebuilt by Julius II. But the fact that these ideas then come together with the basic idea of the mystery of the Trinity, also in Raphael's work, through the influence of the Pope, who wanted to make Christianity particularly great again from Rome, is also, I would say, at the root of the “Verbrämisierung” of this painting. For one might say that this painting expresses—there are even things to be seen in the architectural motifs that reappear in St. Peter's Basilica—this painting says, in a sense: the mystery of the Trinity is to be taught to the world anew from Rome, brought to the world. There are many drawings related to this painting that show that Raphael gradually arrived at this final composition, but they also show that this whole way of thinking about inspiration, about the idea of the Trinity, lived in him for a long time and that, in any case, it was not the case with this painting that the Pope simply said, “Paint me this picture!” — but rather that the Pope said, What idea has been living in you for a long time? — and that they, so to speak, brought about together what was painted on the one large wall of the Camera della Segnatura.
202 Camera della Segnatura The “School of Athens”
And now this painting, which is well known, as you know, under the name “The School of Athens,” because it is believed that the two central figures are Plato and Aristotle. The only thing that is certain is that they are definitely not. And I do not wish to insist here—I have already spoken about this painting—on other views that have been expressed about it; but Plato and Aristotle are certainly not the two central figures. Certainly, one will recognize all kinds of ancient philosophers. But none of that is important in this painting. What is important is that, in contrast to what inspiration is, Raphael also wanted to depict what human beings receive through their supersensible reason — how they behave when they apply their supersensible reason to investigate the causes of things. And the different ways in which human beings behave are expressed in the different figures. Raphael, as he always tried to use this or that, certainly included traditional ancient philosopher figures. But that was not important to him; what was important was to contrast supernatural inspiration, that is, the descent of the supernatural as inspiration into human beings, with the attainment of knowledge of the causes of things through reason directed toward the supernatural. The central figures are then to be understood in such a way that in one figure we have the younger man, who has less life experience and therefore speaks more like someone who looks at the circumference of the earth in order to see from this circumference what the causes of things are, alongside the aged old man, who has already processed much within himself and who already knows how to apply what he has seen on earth to the heavenly realm – alongside other figures who, partly through contemplation, partly through arithmetic, geometry and the like, or through the revelation of the Gospels and so on, i.e. through scripture, want to find the causes of things with the application of human reason. I think we can take the contrast between these images in such a way that we do not commit the folly of wondering whether one is Pythagoras and the other Plato and Aristotle, which is in any case nonsense when it comes to art. A great deal of ingenuity has been devoted to deciphering the individual figures, that is, to the most unnecessary thing one should do with these images. Much more attention should be paid to the diversity in the search for what human reason can achieve; much more importance should be attached to this.
Now compare the two images in terms of the fact that here you have the whole thing inside an architectural setting, whereas in the “Disputa” (197) you have placed the image in the whole world — so at the same time you also have the difference between the inspiration that has the whole structure of the world as its home and the search for human reason, which is considered to be taking place in a closed human space (202).
206* Camera della Segnatura Three cardinal virtues: Fortitudo, Prudentia, Temperantia
Here we now have what is achieved within the human itself, that is, without this human being influenced by anything supernatural.
208 Camera della Segnatura Theology (medallion above the “Disputa”)
This is, as it were, the commentary on the ‘Disputa’: the knowledge of the divine, or rather the knowledge of divine mysteries, represented in more allegorical figures, which leads to the “Disputa.”
207 Camera della Segnatura Justice as the fourth cardinal virtue
190 Raphael Madonna di Foligno
211 Raphael The Expulsion of Heliodorus
So now we have one of the paintings from the entire complex that Raphael created on behalf of Pope Julius, which was intended to reinforce the idea that Christianity must prevail and that anything that resists it will be overcome.
212 Raphael Leo I's Encounter with Attila
This is just the other side of the same idea. Also belonging to the same group of paintings: “Peter in Prison.”
213 Raphael The Liberation of Peter from Prison
214 Raphael The Four Sibyls
These are Raphael's Sibyls. If you remember Michelangelo's Sibyls (138-142), you will notice the enormous difference here (214). Raphael's Sibyls are Sibyls who — just look at them — actually show, expressed in human form, beings who are connected with the whole cosmos, into which the whole cosmos plays, dreaming within the cosmos like a piece of the cosmos itself, not fully conscious. The various supersensible beings between them, these angelic figures, carry the secrets of the world to them. These Sibyls are dreamlike beings in the whole world context, while Michelangelo had the fate of expressing the human-individual, that which the Sibyls dream, developing it in dream consciousness, out of the individual, one might say: from the character that extends to the personal. Above the individual, or even in the non-individual, these Raphaelesque Sibyls live and float.
Raphael
231 The Conversion of Paul
191 The Holy Family under the Oak Tree
193 The Sistine Madonna
194 The Sistine Madonna, detail: Madonna with Child
192 The so-called “Great Holy Family”
Then comes the room where the “Transfiguration” is located. We will now see the Transfiguration.
217 Raphael The Transfiguration
It is the painting that Raphael may not even have finished; it is the painting he left behind when he died, the Ascension of Christ. For those who say that Raphael turned to visionary paintings in the last period of his life, it suffices to point out that this one figure here
219 Raphael The Transfiguration, detail: The possessed boy
in a truly occult-realistic sense, causes such a scene to become visible to the others, that it affects the other figures through the, I would say, mediumistic nature of the unconsciousness of madness, so that they can see such a thing.
217 Raphael The Transfiguration
Now we still have the figure of Christ himself from the painting:
218 Raphael The Transfiguration, part: Christ
And now consider: what Raphael painted, what you have now followed, fell within the period from his 21st to his 37th year, in which he died. At the age of 21, he painted the picture that we saw first here (178/75a), the counterpart to Perugino's painting “The Marriage of Mary” (75). Herman Grimm has already calculated something very nicely that speaks in a magnificent sense for Raphael's independent development, for his completely independent development, and which in a certain sense is external proof of what I have said: that Raphael, despite having been carried to the ground and naturally having learned a great deal in the world, brought the nature of this central, eastern part of central Italy to Rome, because despite his youth he created from the depths of his nature and progressed in a completely regular development. Herman Grimm has calculated that the main highlights of Raphael's work can be found if one starts from the age of 21 and assumes four-year periods: at the age of 21, the “Marriage of Mary”; four years later, something that is very characteristic of him, which we could not show here because we do not yet have the slide, the “Entombment,” which, especially through the drawings that refer to it, through everything connected with it, expresses a high point in Raphael's work.
Raphael
225* The Entombment
226* Sketch for a “Lamentation”
227* The Death of Meleager
228* Sketch for “The Entombment”: The Three Bearers
229* Sketch for “The Entombment”
Then again, the climax of his work in the “Camera della Segnatura” four years later. And so, progressing from four to four years, we see how Raphael undergoes a development which – I would say: standing entirely individually within the world – follows an impulse that was bound only to his incarnation, developing this impulse; placing something into the world that unfolds in the very regular evolution of humanity.
And now take this together, how these three people, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, stand as an artistic high point in the development of humanity, which — this lies in the tragedy contained in human development — is linked to a succession of popes: Alexander VI Borgia, Julius II, Leo X, characters who, in terms of artistic intentions, were among the first of mankind who were at the same time capable of intervening in the development of humanity in the places where they were called to rule, bringing to bear the utmost that could be achieved at that time in the use of governmental means such as murder, deception, cruelty, poisoning, but who were undoubtedly sincere in their artistic endeavors—right up to the Medici popes, who remained true to their merchant background in their outlook. Julius II was a remarkable man, inclined to every form of cruelty, never shying away from deception, using poison as a means that is quite suitable for everyday use in world history, but a man of whom it was rightly said that he never promised anything he did not keep. And to the artists, whom he never bound, he kept to a high degree what he had promised them, insofar as they could serve him in what he had destined them for and what he wanted them to work on in a certain way.
Now, in addition to this succession of popes, consider these great characters who created the works, three great characters whom we have seen pass before our souls today, and consider how in one, in Leonardo, lived that which has not yet come to fruition today, how in Michelangelo lived the whole tragedy of his time and of his immediate and wider homeland, and how in Raphael lived the possibility of coming to terms with this whole era by being receptive, one might say to the point of sensitivity, to everything that carried him along as if on the waves of the times, but at the same time he was a self-contained nature. And consider that neither Leonardo nor Michelangelo could bring into the era that which could have an effect on the era. Michelangelo struggled to bring out everything that was in the era from human individuality. He could never really create anything that the era could fully absorb; Leonardo even less so, because he carried in his soul something much greater than could be absorbed in his era. Raphael developed a humanity that remained young. And as if guided by a wise world order, I would say, he was destined to develop such youthfulness with such intensity that it could not grow old, should not grow old, because the time into which what came from his impulse was to be born was itself to become young first. Only now is the time coming when people will begin to understand Raphael less and less, because time has already grown older than what Raphael could give to his time.
And finally, a few portraits that Raphael delivered.
220 Raphael Pope Julius II.
221 Raphael Pope Leo X.
These are the two popes who were his protectors.
222 Raphael Female Portrait
223 Raphael Conte Baldassare Castiglione
That brings us to the end.
In the near future, if we can, we will supplement these creations of the great masters of the Renaissance with their counterparts in southern Europe and the north—Holbein, Dürer, and the other German masters. Today, we wanted to focus on these three Renaissance masters, and I have tried to characterize some of what lived in these masters and what connected them to their time. You will receive great inspiration if you touch upon the cultural history that influenced these three masters in particular and consider the tragedy of human history, the necessary tragedy of human history, which must play itself out in one-sidedness: as in the time of Florence, which Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo, the unfolding of world history plays out in a way that is instructive for judging everything historical. I do not believe that anyone today will regret it if, with an eye for world-historical facts in all areas and with an eye for the significance of external political events for intellectual life, they draw on a period such as the year 1504 to 1505, in which Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Raphael—Raphael even more so as a younger man, learning from the others—were all in Florence at the same time, the other two competing with each other, painting battle scenes, glorifying deeds that belong to political history. If one allows oneself to be influenced by what was happening at that time and how, in what are external events, the artistic seeks its place, but how, through what is so artistic and externally eventful, the greatest impulses of human evolution come into play, how human brutality — human high-mindedness, human tyranny — human striving for freedom, as they were interwoven in those days, then, if he allows these things to sink in from any side, he will not regret the time he has spent on them; for he will learn a great deal, also for the assessment of the present, and will be able to wean himself in many respects from the belief that the greatest words also mean the expression of the greatest ideas, and that those who speak most of freedom in our time often understand only something of this freedom. But in other contexts of our time, too, much can be gained in terms of sharpening one's judgment precisely by considering the events in Florence at the beginning of the 16th century, that Florence which was then under the influence of the recently executed Savonarola, that Florence which stood at the center of that period in Italy when Christianity had taken on a form through which it slipped into art, a form against which the moral sensibility of humanity protested vigorously, a form that was fundamentally different from that which was then initially carried into political-religious development as Jesuitism and which has played a major role in politics in many ways in the centuries that followed, right up to the present day.
It is not appropriate to say more about these things in the present day. But perhaps some will guess more if they look at the chapter of human development on which we have allowed the artistic expression to have an effect on our souls today, if they look at this one in particular.