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Ross KingA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
On August 19, 1418, a competition was announced in the Republic of Florence, a city-state in Italy. The competition offered 200 florins (more than two years’ salary for a skilled craftsman) for whoever could come up with a plan to complete the dome (the cupola) atop the city’s cathedral. The Opera del Duomo, the office of works in charge of the cathedral, sought a way to finish an ambitious project which had been under construction for nearly 100 years.
By the early 1400s, the Republic of Florence was one of the most prosperous cities in Europe. The city’s booming wool industry flooded the public coffers and inspired a wave of building projects. Beside the unfinished cathedral, a large octagonal baptistry and a 280-foot tower had already been constructed in the piazza del duomo. The cathedral was intended to be one of the “largest in Christendom” (3), a way to loudly announce the city’s newfound status and importance. For 50 years, a 30-foot-long scale model of the cathedral’s design was situated on the worksite. The model was treated with almost religious reverence. This model included a dome which, if realized, would be the largest and widest vault ever raised. The problem, however, was that no one knew how to construct the dome in this manner.
Building work on the cathedral began in 1296. The original designer and architect was Arnolfo di Cambio. The new cathedral would be built on top of the city’s older cathedral; buildings and a cemetery were torn up to make space. The Black Death, which struck Florence and other European cities in the mid-14th century, killed as many as 80 percent of Florentines and slowed progress on the project. As the city recovered (punctuated by recurrences of the plague), the building work resumed.
Competition among architects was “an old and honored custom” (6). The Opera del Duomo was administered by the Wool Merchants, one of the richest and most powerful of Florence’s guilds. They rejected proposals for Gothic-style designs which “smacked of the architecture of Florence’s traditional enemies: Germany, France and Milan” (7). Without the Gothic buttresses, however, the question of how to vault the massive proposed dome remained unanswered. Gothic buttresses distributed the weight of the cathedral evenly, preventing stress cracks and fissures in the construction. Many cathedrals collapsed due to poor design and unexpected errors. The Opera del Duomo sought to erect their massive dome “without the use of any visible supports” (9). The basic form for the cathedral’s design was set by Neri di Fioravanti, but in the early 1400s, the question of how to actually build the grand dome was unanswered. When the competition was announced in 1418, a goldsmith and clockmaker named Filippo Brunelleschi stepped forward.
By 1418, Brunelleschi was 41 years old. The son of a successful notary, he had harbored a lifelong talent for solving mechanical puzzles. Brunelleschi grew up “in the shadow” of the construction project that was the Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral in Florence. He watched the hoists and pulleys used to move the building materials around the site. At 15, he was apprenticed as a goldsmith, a common career track for many successful artists and artisans in this era. Brunelleschi was a talented artisan and reportedly built several innovative clocks, though none have survived to the modern day.
Brunelleschi’s early career was shaped by his rivalry with Lorenzo Ghiberti. The city held a competition to design the grand brass doors to the baptistry in front of the cathedral. The doors were intended as a declaration of religious faith following a severe outbreak of plague. The external threat of a war with Milan also caused concern in the Republic of Florence, as the tyrannical Giangaleazzo Visconti of Milan was threatening to lay siege to the city in his attempt to conquer all of Italy. In Milan, the city’s own grand cathedral was being erected in a Gothic style and “the ‘democracy’ of Florence” (16) feared the autocratic Milanese threat. Brunelleschi and other artists were invited to submit proposals for the 20 bronze panels that would cover the baptistry doors. Their proposals were required to depict Abraham’s sacrifice of Isaac, a biblical story that hinted at the authorities’ desire for “sudden salvation from mortal threat” (17). The competition was held as Milan laid siege to Florence.
Lorenzo Ghiberti was a young Florentine artist of “dubious paternity” (18). In spite of the rumors about his father’s identity, he was amiable and sociable in contrast to the secretive, paranoid, and egotistical Brunelleschi. Ghiberti canvassed many important Florentines for their opinions about his proposal, while Brunelleschi worked in secrecy. Both proposals were deemed brilliant, so Ghiberti and Brunelleschi were invited to work together on the large project. Brunelleschi, noted for his “arrogant self-confidence, irascibility and stubborn refusal to work with others” (20), refused to work with his rival. Offended, he decamped to Rome with a friend, the Florentine sculptor Donatello, while Ghiberti began work on the baptistry doors that would take the next 22 years to finish. Meanwhile, as if in in vindication of the city’s public display of faith, Giangaleazzo died of a fever, and the Milanese troops left Florence.
The people of the Republic of Florence liked to imagine themselves as the inheritors of Rome’s grandiose past, though many of the stories about the city’s link to ancient Rome were inventions. By the 1400s, the city of Rome had dwindled in importance. Only 20,000 people remained among the ruins of the once-great city. Rome had become “a dangerous and unappealing place” (23). After quitting Florence, Brunelleschi travelled to Rome with his close friend, the famous Florentine sculptor Donatello. For as many as 10 years, they lived “like vagabonds” (25), sifting among the vast ruins of the city for inspiration from a bygone era. Brunelleschi studied the ancient ruins, taking notes on architectural traditions such as the deployment of Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian styles that were invented by ancient Greeks and imported to Rome. The precise mathematical formulas and rules for proportion had fallen out of fashion in the Middle Ages. Particularly of note to a young man who had grown up in the shadow of a cathedral without a dome was the Pantheon, the pagan Roman building with a vast dome that had been turned into a church. The compression and tension of the giant structure distributed the weight of the dome onto the walls in such a way that “it seemed to defy the laws of nature” (28). During this time, many of the older Roman texts were being rediscovered, studied, and reappraised after being thought lost. This period of rediscovery would be the foundation of the Renaissance.
Brunelleschi returned to Florence in either 1416 or 1417. He returned to his old neighborhood, beside the cathedral which was now named Santa Maria del Fiore (Saint Mary of the Flower). Like many artists of the era, Brunelleschi was considered “ugly and eccentric” (33). He was unmarried and, by this time, was largely known for his work on linear perspective. This “landmark in the history of painting” (35) allowed artists to portray three-dimensional objects on a two-dimensional surface through techniques such as the vanishing point. Such techniques were seemingly lost following the fall of the Roman Empire, but Brunelleschi rediscovered and refined them, shaping Western art for centuries to follow.
The competition for the design of the dome was announced in August 1418, and focused on the question of “how to build the invisible supports” (38) which would hold up such a vast dome. The quantity of timber needed for such a project would be unprecedented, while the removal of traditional support structures (known as decentering) was “one of the most hazardous operations in the entire building process” (39). To show off his plans, Brunelleschi recruited his friends to build a large model of the dome. With the work of Nanni di Banco and Donatello, his model was “an exquisitely rendered work of art” (41).
Nevertheless, Brunelleschi’s revolutionary ideas—coupled with his refusal to explain how they would work—were met with hostility from the civic leaders. He was dismissed as “an ass and a babbler” (42) and may have been physically ejected. Many stories and rumors spread of what Brunelleschi did during his period of rejection. In one probably apocryphal story, he used an egg to show the feasibility of his design. Whether the Opera del Dumo would award such a prestigious commission based on this “parlor trick” (43) seems unlikely. In contrast, his old rival Ghiberti submitted a simpler project. As with the baptistry doors, the competition came down to Brunelleschi and Ghiberti.
In the 16 years since winning the competition for the baptistry doors, Lorenzo Ghiberti had been very successful. For all his talents as an artist, however, he had little experience as an architect. The fundamental difference between his and Brunelleschi’s plans for the cathedral dome came down to the practice of centering: Ghiberti’s traditional design included it, while Brunelleschi’s innovative approach discarded any need for centering. The officials “dithered and delayed” (45) over the competition. During this period, geopolitical events (such as the end of the Great Schism) caused the Pope to stay in Florence for some time. Brunelleschi designed several small chapels that functioned as proof-of-concept pieces for his “novel scheme of vaulting without centering” (47)--that is, building the dome without the need for temporary wooden supports inside. During this period, a new capomaestro was also placed in charge of the cathedral construction project. Battista d’Antonio was a master mason, more of a builder than an architect. Brunelleschi was appointed as an architectural overseer, but any delight may have been tempered by the simultaneous appointment of Ghiberti to the same post. Another architect appointed to the commission, Giovanni da Prato, harbored a “lusty hatred” for Brunelleschi as he called for the inclusion of windows in the cathedral design (49). Da Prato was ignored. Though Brunelleschi was not yet officially named as the winner of the competition, his design for the dome was chosen.
By the time Brunelleschi’s Dome opened in 1418, with the announcement of a competition for proposals to build the dome of the cathedral in Florence, the cathedral itself had already been under construction for more than 100 years. In these 100 years, the population and the status of Florence have waxed and waned. War, plague, and highly profitable commerce have affected the city, yet the plan for how to finish the cathedral remains incomplete. In effect, the unfinished plans for the cathedral are a declaration of faith. The authorities in Florence believe that the city-state will produce the genius who can build the seemingly impossible dome, and this belief serves as a proxy for their larger belief in the destiny of Florence itself. Aside from the fact that the cathedral is inherently a spiritual institution, faith is evident everywhere in its construction. Not just faith in God, but faith in Florence. The authorities have faith that someone will eventually finish the dome. Until that time, they have faith in the guiding plans of Neri di Fioravanti and Arnolfo di Cambio. Neri’s model is treated with the reverence usually accorded to saints and relics, with the city leaders swearing on the model as a form of commitment to the city and its future. The importance attached to this work of public architecture suggests the emerging value of Architecture as a Political Statement. Florence’s civic leaders intend for the cathedral to serve as a message to both citizens and outsiders about the greatness of their city-state. Neri’s model, the unfinished plans, and the faith shown by the authorities are evidence that the emerging philosophy of Florence will be more humanist in general. Brunelleschi will not just build the dome; he will usher in a new era of Renaissance humanism, vindicating the Florentines’ faith in their unfinished plans.
As Neri di Fioravanti’s model serves as a blueprint for the unfinished cathedral, Fioravanti himself serves as a blueprint for Brunelleschi. As King discusses in a later chapter, architects before Brunelleschi were generally anonymous. They were viewed as tradespeople, not as artists whose work was worthy of the renown accorded for example to the sculptor Donatello, a man so famous that, like pop stars of the present day, he went by a single name. Neri prefigures the glorification of Brunelleschi, however. His name is known today, even if it is known only in connection with Brunelleschi’s later emergence. In a symbolic way, the plans for the renovated Florence cathedral were built on top of the older, less impressive cathedral. The building which would be known as the Santa Maria del Fiore was built over and around this older cathedral, eventually eclipsing it in the public’s mind. In the same way, Brunelleschi’s reputation is built on that of men like Neri di Fioravanti and Arnolfo di Cambio. His fame and his veneration are escalations of the fame and veneration which were offered to the previous generation. They become the foundation not only of Brunelleschi’s design, but of his place in history. As Brunelleschi seeks to eclipse his predecessors, he must also surpass his contemporary rivals. The contest that opens the book literalizes the competition that is always going on behind the scenes, evidence of Professional Rivalry as a Catalyst for Innovation. As the cathedral is built on top of what came before, so is Brunelleschi’s reputation.
When the contest judges award first place jointly to Brunelleschi and his rival Ghiberti, Brunelleschi refuses the award. This is a key early moment in establishing his character: Unwilling to share the limelight, he is single-mindedly bent on rising above all others. Rather than working with his rival on the baptistry doors, Brunelleschi leaves Florence for Rome. This is a formative period in his life but, as King suggests, little is actually known about what he did. For years, Brunelleschi wandered the figurative wilderness until returning to his hometown to seize his glorious opportunity to reshape the city and its future. These formative and anonymous years—possibly spent with the celebrated artist Donatello—are an important part of the mythologizing of Brunelleschi’s reputation, and the dearth of reliable information on this period illustrates The Fine Line Between History and Legend. Given the possible influence of ancient Roman, Greek, and Asian construction techniques in his work, scholars have suggested that he may have spent these years touring Italy, Europe, and Asia for inspiration. In this way, discussions about Brunelleschi’s legend can be manipulated to suit any purpose. He may have visited Persia, for example, or Istanbul, depending on the respective theory about his work which someone is trying to convey. These mysterious years echo the techniques used by Brunelleschi in the dome itself. His mystery invites discussion, which then only adds to his legendary status. Even in his absence, Brunelleschi’s story treads a fine line between history and myth.