Masaccio's 'Trinity' fresco in Santa Maria Novella, in Florence

 

Much has been written about Masaccio (born Tommaso di ser Giovanni di Mone Cassai:1401-1428) and his importance in the early Renaissance period and, especially, about his frescos in the Brancacci Chapel in the Church of the Carmine, in Florence; the other work most usually discussed is his monumental fresco (667 x 317cm) called The Trinity (la Trinità) in the also monumental late-gothic Basilica of Santa Maria Novella, situated directly opposite the splendid modernist central station of Florence (designed by Gruppo Toscano, 1932-34).

The Trinity (1425-27) by Masaccio, fresco

Santa Maria Novella, Florence (Photo: the author)

This exceptional work, now again in its original position on the wall of the left nave of the enormous church, had at one time been placed on the inside wall of the façade 1; these peregrinations resulting in the temporary loss of the image of the skeleton in the lower part of the fresco. I mention this peripatetic history not only as a curiosity but also because the Trinity was - and is - in an implied dialogue with another important work, this time a very large painted wooden crucifix attributed to Giotto; this crucifix, now suspended above the central nave, about half-way along, was apparently initially mounted above the main altar. 

Crucifix (1288-89?) by Giotto, tempera on wood

Santa Maria Novella (Photo: the author)

 Masaccio's work is notable as one of the earliest, and most dramatic, expressions of the lately discovered mathematical perspective; the whole architectural structure of this picture is based on mathematical, 'scientific' perspective drawing, at once a revolution and the culmination of late-medieval slow advances in this direction. Brunelleschi (practically) - and later (theoretically), Leon Battista Alberti and Piero della Francesca - had devised a way of representing, on a two- dimensional surface, the built environment, and man in a proportional relationship with it, rationally coherent and convincingly 'realistic'. The Trinity fresco, with its vanishing point situated just below the platform on which stand the figures of Mary and Saint John, demonstrates clearly the power of this revolutionary system to imitate 'real' space and to situate human figures within that space in a completely rational way. It is perhaps difficult to comprehend the impact this fresco must originally have had on Masaccio's contemporaries for, not only has the passing of time had its effects on the condition of the fresco, but we are today so completely habituated to the concept of convincing perspective representation that it is of course, nothing new. But in 1427 it must have seemed as though, if not an entirely new world, then at least, finally, a fully coherent one had arrived; no longer were images of buildings, whether interiors or exteriors, functioning as quasi-symbols of themselves, but instead were painted (or sculpted by Donatello) in such a way as to 'convince' the viewer that he or she was looking into a 'real' space - as if, according to Alberti, through a window. Even then and later, it was remarked how the painting appeared to open a hole in the wall: " ... che pare che sia bucato quel muro." (Vasari, Le Vite, etc. 1568)

Christ before Pilate by Donatello (1386 -1466), south Pulpit (1464-66), bronze

the Church of San Lorenzo, Florence (Photo: the author)

Donatello's last works, the two 'pulpits' were left unfinished at his death; note here also, the low viewpoint (some distortion due to photograph).

In the Trinity, the enormous classical barrel vault, the receding Ionic columns, the massive arches, the arms of the Cross, the platform on which God the Father stands and the two figures of Mary and John, all are portrayed from below, as we would see them from our position, standing on the floor of the church. But, while adhering carefully in the architecture to the precise rules of the new perspective, Masaccio ignored them when he came to paint both God the Father and His Son on the Cross: neither of these figures is rendered as if seen from below, but rather as though seen from directly in front! This means that in the painted 'reality' of the environment in which the actors perform, the most holy of them, that is, the First and Second persons of the Trinity, confront us face-to-face, emphatically, hierarchically yes, but directly and so to speak, head-on (in this sense, they could be described as a reversion to hieratic Byzantine frontality: see the Monreale photo below). Outside the holy space of the gigantic chapel or 'tabernacle', the two donors are also shown as though we were looking at them straight-on, but they are much closer to our eye level in any case. In effect, we have three points of view - perhaps intentionally, given the subject -: looking up at the fictive triumphal arch, looking down at the tomb with its skeleton 2, and looking directly ahead at God and His crucified Son. Incidentally, the Third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, is represented as a white dove placed inconspicuously between the other two.

In another later masterpiece of the fifteenth century, the Resurrection by Piero della Francesca (c1412 - 1492), there is a similar use of and, we might almost say, disregard for perspective: while the sleeping guards are seen more or less from straight on, the risen Christ, logically therefore higher, is seen as if we were looking directly at him. Both Piero's fresco and Masaccio's are situated above average standing eye-level and so looking up is physically necessary to take in the whole work; and both painters have made use of this real fact to supply at least two almost contrasting elements to their paintings - a heightened 'drama' in the fictive space and, the height notwithstanding, an implied direct contact with the 'higher' divinity - while at the same time convincing us that what we are looking at is (a representation of) a 'reality' 3.   

The Resurrection (after recent cleaning) by Piero della Francesca, (c1458?), fresco

Museo Civico, Sansepolcro, Italy (Photo: Dr Maria Stratford)

But to return to the question about Masaccio's image being in dialogue with Giotto's: what I am referring to is of course the figure of the crucified Christ in both works. Giotto's, thought to be an early work painted roughly 120 years before the Trinity, extremely beautiful as it is, is nevertheless a product of its time, with certain conventions such as the odd zig-zag of the body (which, in this case is seen from the right on a cross seen from in front); at the end of the right arm of the cross is the traditional portrait of Mary (Mater Dolorosa) and at the end of the left that of the young Saint John. Somethings to my mind not quite so traditional are details of the body of Christ: Giotto seems to have attempted, despite the somewhat conventional pose, a more realistic rendering of the upper torso at least. 

Masaccio, on the other hand, has dramatically brought his Christ up-to-date: a much more carefully drawn, realistic body, especially the torso, the arms and the attachment of them to the torso; the hips and groin and the lower legs are all 'realistic'. Here too are the figures of Mary and John, not the half-figures as in the Giotto but full figures: John clearly contemplating what he has witnessed; but Christ's mother very unusually is looking at us and, with a gesture indicating her dead Son, seems to be inviting us, somewhat disdainfully it would seem, to also contemplate what has been done. The implied surface triangle (that is, on the picture plane itself) of all the figures, beginning with the donors and moving up to Mary and John, and then to Christ and His Father, functions doubly - like other elements in this work - since that same triangle can be read as moving from the external world of the donors (and ourselves) into the 'sacred' world of the painted chapel, meeting first the mourners and then deeper still, the holiest figures.

Also remarkable is a couple of things to do with the drawing of these figures. At the time and for centuries beforehand, it was customary for there to be a sort of hierarchy of divinity in religious images, with God and Jesus represented as the largest figures in a given scene, followed by Mary and the angels, then the saints, and finally, smallest of all, ordinary humans (including popes and bishops, etc.) 4. Masaccio has completely overturned this convention and all the figures in his Trinity are the same size, even the donors. All the holy personages are rendered as human beings and their changed status, that is, the fact that they not only look like human beings but are the same size as the humans represented, would seem to indicate the influence of Humanism in the approach Masaccio has here taken. We have only to look at an image of Christ Pantocrator, such as at Monreale in Sicily, to appreciate the vast difference in the new status of such figures. Concordant with this is the way Mary has been shown: not as a more or less beautiful youngish woman but rather as a middle-aged mother although, as observed, not the traditional 'Mater Dolorosa' but as a self-composed 'divine' personage, present but at the same time, oddly somewhat abstracted from the emotion of the event.

The Trinity, detail showing three of the principal figures: note Mary's direct engagement

with the viewer and the her knowing gaze. 

Christ Pantocrator (after 1183?), anonymous artist(s) possibly Greek, mosaic

the Cathedral of Monreale, near Palermo, Sicily (Photo: the author)

Notice the great difference in scale between the Christ and the next level(s) below Him which includes Mary (seated however), Saints Peter and, not visible in this photo, Paul, as well as angels and prophets.

Mention might also be made here of the very deliberate but restricted colour scheme of the entire fresco. In essence two colours dominate, red and blue; starting with the figure of God the Father, we notice that he is clothed in red and blue garments: his red tunic, on our left, his blue cloak on our right. Moving 'down' the image, the red tunic is contrasted with Mary's blue garment which in turn is contrasted with the red of the male donor's heavy clothing and headdress (Berto di Bartolomeo del Banderaio ?). Again moving down the painting, the blue cloak of God is contrasted with the red of Saint John's cloak and that in turn with the blue of the female donor (Berto's wife Sandra?). Shades of red and pink make-up some of the architectural elements as they do, together with blue, the squares in the ceiling of the barrel vault. It must be remembered that this fresco is now almost 600 years old, has undergone several transpositions not to mention restorations: it is therefore very difficult, notwithstanding the generally good condition, to accurately judge the colours and to assess their original significance and impact.

Much discussion and disagreement has occurred in relation to the symbolism contained in this image. The recurrence of 'threes' in a painting entitled The Trinity may or may not be pertinent - even the colour scheme just outlined is based on the number three! The image of the crucified Jesus, the suggestion of the eternal and the presence of a tomb and a skeleton all facing a door which leads directly to a cemetery is most likely not coincidental. It has been noted that there are no indications whatever of the names or family of the donors, no heraldic shields, no dedicatory inscriptions; the names suggested for the couple are at this point purely conjectural. One wonders whether or not the colour scheme may give a clue however!

* Some of the points raised in this article were suggested or reinforced by a recent re-reading of John White's The Birth and Rebirth of Pictorial Space, first published in 1957 by Faber and Faber; and to a lesser extent by a contemporaneous re-reading of Luciano Bellosi's La Pecora di Giotto, Abscondita edition, 2015 but first published by Einaudi in 1985.

1 The fresco has suffered, like many over the centuries, from various vicissitudes: it seems that Giorgio Vasari is responsible for its preservation when, having been asked to modernise the area, and appreciating the fresco's immense artistic value, he 'hid' it under a new work while leaving clear indications of its presence. In the 19th century, the Masaccio was rediscovered and moved to the inside wall of the façade of the church; in 1952, it was decided to replace the fresco into its original position, a position which probably not casually faces a side door leading to the basilica's cemetery. The work has been restored on several occasions, most recently in 2001.

2 The beautifully drawn skeleton comes with a warning written on the image: 

"Io fu' già quel che voi sete e quel ch'i' son voi anco sarete", that is: 

"I was once what you are and that which I am you will also be".

3 A perplexing and fascinating psychological situation to which I have referred in other articles: that of knowing that one is looking at a painted image on a flat surface while happily allowing oneself to be 'enticed' into the fictive world of that image (and not only of figurative works).

4 See for example the apse mosaic by Jacopo Torriti in the church of San Giovanni in Laterano (Roma) in which the very newly-minted Saint Francis is included but on a much-reduced scale compared with the other holy figures around him (St Peter to the left, Mary to the right); in addition, note that the Pope Nicholas figure beside Francis is even smaller - and made to kneel!

***

Brunelleschi (Filippo di ser Brunellesco di Lippo Lappi) 1377 - 1446, sculptor and architect, most notably of the massive dome of Florence cathedral (the Duomo)

Leon Battista Alberti 1404 - 1472, architect, author and theoretician; author of Della Pittura explaining the principles behind mathematical perspective

Piero della Francesca c1412 - 1492, painter and theoretician: author of two books dealing with perspective: De prospectiva pingendi and Libellus de quinque corporibus regularibus