Some doubts about a painting: 'St Jerome in the Desert' by Piero della Francesca

This article, unlike I think all my others, concerns a picture I have never seen, except in reproduction. Thus far, I have attempted to comment only on works I have actually experienced in person, however, I was prompted to write something about this smallish painting while recently re-reading James R. Banker's excellent book entitled Piero della Francesca. Artist and Man (published 2014)1. The picture in question, Saint Jerome in the Desert, by Piero della Francesca, is always included in the formal list of works given to Piero and, indeed, at least one slim volume is basically devoted to it and a similar small work called Saint Jerome and a Supplicant (Keith Christiansen et al)2.

Saint Jerome in the Desert (1450?) by Piero della Francesca, tempera (and oil?) on wood panel, 51 x 38 cm
Gemäldegalerie, Berlin (Image: Wiki Commons, Public Domain)

Saint Jerome in the Desert (or Wilderness), at 51 x 38 cm, is one of Piero della Francesca's smaller works and is painted in tempera (and oil?) on wood. It is signed and dated 1450 on a small painted folio in the lower right-hand corner (PETRI DE BURGO OPUS MCCCCL) and as such is discussed in relation to the much-debated dating of Piero's paintings, and his peregrinations in central Italy. As stated previously in other articles, I am a painter and my reason for starting to write this blog was to offer opinions about artworks from the standpoint of a practising painter. It is here that we, or I, run into difficulties with erudite art historians because, from the point of view of a trained painter, the date on this small picture has little or nothing to do with the date of its actual execution (otherwise unknown)!3 

Let's consider some of the visible facts of this small, recently cleaned work. First, almost three quarters of the image is taken up with the representation of a landscape, a landscape which is neither desert nor wilderness (being basically green, that is, fertile, and containing a small forest of sometimes harvested trees; the point is moot to some extent as this picture is also known as Saint Jerome in the Wilderness or in a Landscape, or simply, The Penitent Saint Jerome); secondly, to the left of the Saint and below him are two of his usual attributes, respectively a lion and a cardinal's hat (despite the fact that he was never a cardinal, a title which didn't exist in his time!): even to the naked eye, it is clear that these two features were added at some point later, that is, after the landscape had been painted (and very probably, by another hand, see Note 3, second item); thirdly, the central part of the image is occupied by a large and imposing tree situated in the mid-ground of the fictive visual field, and, occupying at least a third of the sky, creating thereby a distracting secondary focus; fourthly, the putative subject of the painting, Saint Jerome, is tucked into the remaining fourth quarter of the field, off-centre and dwarfed by the aforementioned tree; and finally, the winding river or creek, which snakes its way through the landscape background and into the foreground on the lower left side, effectively turning the Saint's area into an island!

Why is any of these things a problem? To begin, the overall composition is confused and unresolved; for instance, as just noted, the large central tree tugs our attention away from the Saint who is supposedly the subject! Composition was one of the basic elements in the structuring of a typical Renaissance image4 and plainly stated as such by two of its most important art theorists, namely Leon Battista Alberti (15th century) and Giorgio Vasari (16th century). The somewhat oddly-drawn river, a recurring motif in Piero's work (see his Baptism of Christ, London and the Battle of Constantine and Maxentius, Arezzo), as mentioned, spills clumsily into the lower left corner of the image, creating a green island for the 'desert' home of the ascetic Saint; this is the kind of compositional error a master painter would probably not have made at all, but certainly would not have allowed to remain, once it had been recognized. The author of this faux pas, while practising his developing skill in rendering reflections on water and refraction of light, and revealing his obvious pleasure in portraying landscape, has allowed his juvenile pleasure to interfere with his judgement of the overall composition. As Piero della Francesca is an acknowledged master of composition, we might consider one of his great masterpieces, his Resurrection in Sansepolcro; in this work, we see the ubiquitous Renaissance structure of the (implied) triangle, a structure which provides stability and focus for both the image itself and the viewer. The 'errors' just described could not have been made by that same master in 1450, some ten or so years after the Baptism (but see Note 5) referred to earlier - an image in which composition is already clearly mastered.

The Baptism of Christ, 1439 (?) by Piero della Francesca, tempera on wood,  167 x 116 cm
National Gallery, London (Photo: the author)
Note the modelling of Saint John's garment and the clear recession of the clouds, as well as the coherent development of the river within the landscape. 

Turning our attention now to Jerome's lion and cardinal's hat, we can see that both were added at some point after the landscape had been painted: this because those landscape parts, 'behind' the lion and hat, are again visible due to the quality of some paint mediums, especially oil, to become transparent with time. This can occur for several reasons but one is that the additions were painted on quite thinly, possibly in oil, and have with time become translucent, allowing the original composition to become partially visible. In itself, this is not unusual in pictures of this period and later, but often what we are dealing with is what are known as 'pentimenti' in Italian, meaning basically, the artist has changed his or her mind and has altered some part or parts of a picture - not that something alien to the original idea has been 'tacked on'. But, returning to the subject of composition, the position of the cardinal's hat is clearly an afterthought given that it appears to be slotted in, so to speak, at the very bottom of the image: another indication of a crude expedient rather than the sure sense of a master.

If the subject of this picture is indeed Saint Jerome, there are other problems associated with his figure. The drawing of the body and especially the modelling of his clothing suggest the skill one might expect of a student, albeit one not without some talent. To my eyes, Jerome's head has been quite well drawn; his ragged clothing, significantly, is similar in handling to the garment worn by Saint John, in the London Baptism, which, according to Banker5 and others, is Piero della Francesca's earliest extant commission and first masterpiece (painted for a church in his hometown of Sansepolcro); and, more importantly for our purposes, reveals the lack of any strong direct influence of contemporary Florentine art, at that time the centre of artistic developments (although says Banker, it is possible that Piero had already worked with Domenico Veneziano (1410-1461) who later, in Florence, contributed to important formal aspects such as modelling with light). This fact is demonstrated in part by the handling of the garments worn by the actors in the Baptism; they lack the bulky weightiness and deep shadows to be seen in Piero's work after his documented brief sojourn in Florence, in 1439.

Madonna and Child with Saints Francis, John the Baptist, Zanobi and Lucia, c.1445- 47,  by Domenico Veneziano;
tempera on wood. The Uffizi Gallery, Florence (Photo: the author)
Note the pronounced and masterful use of perspective as well as the use of light, particularly on the cloak of Santa Lucia on the extreme right, a hallmark also of Piero.

Scholars have noted that the Saint Jerome has undergone cleaning and restoration at various times and to such an extent that the finer, subtler finishing touches seem to have been removed - another not uncommon circumstance in the history of pictures. Nevertheless, if we turn our attention to the trunks of the trees on the left side, it is quite possible that they were never much more than what we can see now: in other words, rather simple and predictable quasi-symbols of standard trees! Not the close studies which became more the norm for Piero as his art developed6. On the subject of trees however, one of the two or three smaller ones, in the middle-ground in front of the very basic building (almost, isolated in its landscape, a Morandi avant la lettre!), is apparently the source of the reflection in that part of the river immediately in front of them. That reflection seems to have no relation to its source, being for a start more conical in shape. The bank of the river just 'above' that reflection is amateurish in its handling, as are all similar parts.

Finally, a word about the clouds in the sky behind Saint Jerome: there is a randomness about their placement and a uniformity of size. Piero della Francesca was an acknowledged master of perspective drawing and even wrote books on its theory and on geometry. In other pictures of his where similar clouds appear, they are made to contribute to the sense of depth in the image, seeming to get smaller as they recede in space, this a kind of loose, ad hoc adaptation of his knowledge of perspective. Other masters, such as Leonardo da Vinci for instance, may have used what is technically known as 'atmospheric perspective', which is to say, a gradual reduction in the strength of the colours used, together with an increasing 'fuzziness' as things get further away. Piero on the other hand, tended to keep his colours clean and crisp and so relied on diminution to create a sense of distance in his cloud-scapes (see again his Battle of Constantine and Maxentius and other frescos in the Legend of the True Cross cycle at Arezzo). Incidentally, in the last-named painting, the treatment of the river, clean and sharp, is altogether coherent in its movement and its gradient in relation to the surrounding landscape.

What is our conclusion then? I have not attempted to discredit the Saint Jerome in the Desert as being a genuine work by Piero della Francesca but, I have attempted to show that most of what may be considered the original painting was much more likely the juvenile work of a future great master. He, like Leonardo carrying the Mona Lisa around with him from court to court, may have kept this little early piece with him, perhaps for some sentimental reason as yet undiscovered. I, like many other painters, still have several of my juvenile works kept, in my case, to remind me of my first experiences of oil painting! A possible explanation for its being, as described by various critics, a personal devotional piece for Girolamo d'Antonio Ferretti (Banker, p 27), its once-owner - which it may very well have been - is that it already possessed the main requirement for such a purpose, viz. a representation of his namesake, Saint Jerome or, in Italian, San Girolamo. As discussed previously, the little folio and its date, 1450, containing as well a supposed signature by Piero, could easily have been added at any time (by Piero, or someone else), including when the picture was delivered to its purchaser. Compared with what Piero had already done years before, it seems to me most improbable that the original parts of this picture were painted in 1450, or at any time near that date. The comment made by various critics that aspects of this small picture remind them of the Baptism in London, should give the clue that it pertains probably to that same period, if not an earlier one.

1 James R. Banker, Piero della Francesca. Artist and Man, 2014, Oxford University Press.

2 Keith Christiansen et al, Piero della Francesca. Personal Encounters, 2013, The Met, NY and Yale University Press.

3 Painters, including myself, will occasionally alter dates or add them - sometimes pure guesswork - to works begun or completed many years earlier, to satisfy a patron, or a dealer; occasionally, even dealers have been known to add dates when the artist him- or herself is dead!

Having said that, it is of some comfort to me to have discovered partial support for my opinion from exactly one of those 'erudite art historians', namely, Roberto Longhi (1890-1970), one of the most important Italian art historians of the previous century, as well as the author of one of the fundamental texts on Piero (Piero della Francesca, 1927, with additions to 1962. Editori Sansoni, 1963). On pages 219, 220, Longhi - who refers to this painting as San Gerolamo Penitente in un Paesaggio (The Penitent Saint Jerome in a Landscape) - first maintains that at least two 'hands' (artists) are discernible in various parts of the picture; he then goes on to say: "In my opinion, the first layout of the composition and some parts of the execution are due to Piero, to others [artists]... the continuation and the finishing, ... ." And later: "Therefore a painting that would be worth the trouble to bring back to its original state even if it turns out from this to be an 'unfinished work';". This last remark is interesting as, in fact, the picture has since then been thoroughly cleaned ((in 1968 and 1973: Banker, p26; Christiansen et al, p29 and Notes, 41); this is doubly important as the reproduction of this painting in Longhi's book, apart from being in black and white, shows a very different image: parts of the river seem to have been turned into a winding road, the reflections obliterated; the foliage of the trees had been heavily retouched to appear more decorative; the clouds had been overpainted and were no longer visible; and finally, it seems that extra hills were added in the central background! The picture had, in other words, become almost unrecognizable as that which Piero might have originally produced. Longhi sees the hand of another artist - or artists - in various parts of the picture as it was in his day, however, studying it closely - I repeat, in reproduction - I would still assert that the greater part of the present painting is now the original work of Piero della Francesca, only that it seems to me the work of a young painter and not that of a master in his prime. In his comment on the Saint Jerome, Longhi also says that another critic, Raimond Van Marle (1888-1936), described this picture as 'debolissima', i.e. very weak! To finish, another author, Alessandro Angelini in Piero della Francesca (2013, Scala) remarks on p31: "Può apparire strano che questa pittura ... apparentemente così poco rinnovata rispetto alle prime prove dell'artista, rechi la data avanzata del 1450." i.e. "It may appear strange that this picture ... apparently so little developed in respect of the first attempts, carries the late date of 1450." I note here that this same author has the date 1452, i.e. two years after the Saint Jerome, for one of Piero's greatest pictures, his Flagellation in Urbino: a staggering development if 1450 is the correct date for our painting.
Despite my claiming that I run into difficulties with art historians, it would seem that not only Roberto Longhi but also, to some extent, Van Marle, Christiansen and Angelini support some of my observations - although, with the possible exception of Angelini, not my thesis!

This condition of art history, that is, that so many important texts were written prior to the later part of the twentieth century - and the early part of this one - when a very large number of significant works of art were cleaned and restored (e.g. the Sistine Ceiling by Michelangelo, the Doubting Thomas, a wonderful sculptural group by Verrocchio, the Depostion, a large altar-piece by Pontormo, both in Florence, not to mention nearly all of Piero's paintings), means that a substantial number of their authors' observations are, to some extent at least, redundant, particularly in reference to colour: during my youth, Michelangelo's use of colour (in the Sistine Chapel for instance) was not especially highly regarded; since the cleaning of the Sistine however, the influence of his colour on the Mannerists particularly, has been notably reassessed. The build-up, over literally centuries, of dirt and grime on pictures, and on both external sculpture and important buildings, has also led to a reappraisal of the significance and the formal qualities of their creators. In the 1990s, a number of important Baroque churches in Rome were cleaned, revealing a play of light virtually impossible to appreciate previously. Even today in fact, when we now have so many restored and cleaned works to see, probably in a condition much more like they were when the artist actually finished them, we must still consider that colours change and, where artworks are in museums, that many were made for particular places (i.e. not museums), with the fall of light, the point of view, etc. contrived to co-ordinate with their proposed settings.

4 See Marilyn Aronberg Lavin's Piero della Francesca's Baptism of Christ, (1981, 2014, Yale University Press) for an extended discussion of the Baptism, especially for the comments relating to its composition and, in particular, Appendix 1 (B.A.R. Carter).

5 Banker puts the date of the London Baptism at 1436-39, Christiansen in the 1440s. Typically with the works of Piero della Francesca, scholars disagree about his dates; for this reason, the supposed autograph date of the Saint Jerome, 1450, should not be taken at face value. As stated elsewhere, the date could have been added at any time, thereby throwing further inferences based on it into serious doubt. Importantly however, if Christiansen and others are correct, and the Baptism was painted in the 1440s, i.e. after Piero's experience in Florence, obviously that major picture would have been painted with that city's influence 'under his belt', so to speak. Longhi, p18, in his discussion of the Baptism, claims that its closest relative is the large panel by Domenico Veneziano, a photo of which is seen above. This panel, also known as The Saint Lucy Altarpiece, is dated as 1445-47; if this is correct, agreeing as it does with Christiansen's vague dating, then clearly the Baptism was painted well after Piero's stay in Florence. Longhi also says explicitly that: " ... ciò che materialmente si traduce in una probabile prossimità cronologica fra le due opere." i.e. " ... practically, this translates into a probable chronological proximity between the two works". To note here is the wise use of the word 'probable' by Longhi, indicating that even he was not prepared to define absolutely a date. Bruce Cole in Piero della Francesca. Tradition and Innovation in Renaissance Art (1991. Harper Collins), says on p50 that the supposed 'wings' (i.e. the side panels) painted by Matteo di Giovani to accompany Piero's Baptism panel, "... date about 1460s or early 1470s; ...in other words, quite close in time to Piero's Baptism". This date places the painting of the Baptism nearly 30 years later than Banker's date! Another great historian, John Pope-Hennessy, in his The Piero della Francesca Trail (1991, Thames and Hudson), p 50, gives us yet another date for Matteo di Giovanni's 'wings', 1455! If, as seems likely, the Baptism was painted before the wings of the supposed altarpiece, we at least have a date post quam it could not have been painted; but whose dates are correct?
Having seen Matteo's 'wings', i.e. the completed altarpiece minus its central panel, in the Museo Civico in Sansepolcro, I find it extremely difficult to believe that this obviously Gothic-style work has anything whatsoever to do with Piero's Baptism. Apparently, when the Baptism was bought in the 19th century, it was or had been the centre-panel in Matteo's altarpiece; but even a cursory glance at the two works should be enough to raise doubts as to their putative relationship. One glaring clue is that the Baptism has a semi-circular or rounded-arch shape at its top, an echo of rounded Roman arches (see Aronberg Lavin, 1981); the shapes of Matteo's carpentry, and the entire style, are Gothic, utterly out of keeping with both Piero's painting and with contemporary interests, viz. Humanism! One historian who seems to agree fully (and vehemently) with my point of view here is Roberto Manescalchi, in Studi e Documenti Pierfrancescani 1: Questioni intorno al Battesimo di Cristo di Piero della Francesca (Edizioni Grafica European Center of Fine Arts) 2013.

6 Christiansen, p29, in speaking about the Saint Jerome, says: "It is now easy to see that the two attributes, the hat and the lion, were added by Piero (this I disagree with, clearly [Auth.]) after he had first painted the landscape, which is the part of the picture that seems to have really interested him." The quality of the painting of both the hat and the lion is so poor as to negate, in my opinion, any possibility that they were added by Piero himself, particularly in 1450!

Doubting Thomas, (L'Incredulità di San Tommaso), 1483 by Andea del Verrocchio (1435-1488), bronze;
once in a niche on the exterior of Orsanmichele in Florence, now in the museum in the same building after the sculpture's cleaning, completed in 1993. (Photo: the author)