49 pages • 1 hour read
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.
The construction of the cathedral dome began on August 7, 1420. The workers celebrated on the site, though their jobs were marked by low pay, long hours, dangerous conditions, and sporadic availability of shifts. Including the men at the nearby quarries, as many as 300 worked on the dome. They worked every day except the sabbath or saints’ days. Though 270 days of work were scheduled each year, bad weather could lower this to just 200. The men ate on site and, on Brunelleschi’s orders, a workers’ kitchen was installed to increase productivity. The workers celebrated in 1420, even though they were unsure whether Brunelleschi’s ambitious plans were feasible. His “experimental” (56) plans were put into practice, however, though the Opera del Duomo continued to defer the decision on whether the dome would require vaulting.
The construction of the dome of the Santa Maria del Fiore Cathedral was helped by the invention and construction of innovative new machines by Filippo Brunelleschi. Leon Battista Alberti, a philosopher and Brunelleschi admirer, wrote in the 1440s about the “construction of giant hoists and cranes” which allowed workers on the site to lift huge weights to lofty heights (58). The sandstone beams, for example, weighed 1,700lbs each, so Brunelleschi designed “one of the most celebrated machines of the Renaissance” (59), a hoist which could lift the beams to the height of construction. Earlier, the workers had used a treadmill-powered winch, but this was deemed inadequate. Brunelleschi designed an ox-powered alternative, which employed “one of the longest and heaviest ropes ever manufactured” (60). Importantly, the machine used reversible gears in such a way that the hoist could be raised or lowered without needing to turn the ox around, thus saving time. According to one commenter, Brunelleschi’s design was “centuries ahead of the technical understanding of the time” (62). Brunelleschi invented (or reinvented) many machines intended to help with the construction of the dome, implementing technologies such as the Lewis bolt which are now in common use. Just one of Brunelleschi’s hoists raised 50 loads a day over the course of the years-long construction project.
Similar technologies had been invented by ancient Greeks and Romans. During Brunelleschi’s time, the plans for these technologies were only just being rediscovered and translated from Greek or Latin into Italian. Just as the arts of the Renaissance were informed by the rediscovery of these ancient techniques, so was the architecture of the era. Brunelleschi, speaking no Greek or Latin, was unlikely to have had access to this wealth of information. Instead, King suggests, his innovation came from “his own experience” (65). A late 15th-century biography of Brunelleschi, attributed to his contemporary Antonio Manetti, credits Brunelleschi’s work on mechanical clocks for his engineering expertise. The spring-powered clocks which Manetti credits to Brunelleschi would not become widespread for another century, though none of these devices have survived to the modern era. The Opera del Duomo nevertheless credited Brunelleschi for his inventions and paid him 100 florins for “for his ingeniousness and labors in connection with the device newly invented by him for hoisting” (66).
Brunelleschi’s design for the dome included the implementation of a number of chains. After the construction of the ox-hoist, the first of these sandstone chains was to be installed. The complex design was made of “two concentric rings of stone laid horizontally around the octagonal circumference of the dome” (72). These two concentric rings were built into the brickwork and joined together by transverse stone beams. The sandstone was quarried in the hills around Florence. Each of the beams was 7.5 feet long and 17 inches in section with notches cut into the stone for the installation of the transverse beams. The first chain used more than 100 of these long beams, as well as many shorter beams. At each corner of the octagonal dome, the circumferential stones met at 45-degree angles and were joined together with iron clamps. The clamps were then glazed with lead to prevent rusting.
The first sandstone chain was one of four such chains. These four bands encircled the dome at intervals of 15 feet. The second chain was more complex. In 1425, Brunelleschi showed off his model for this chain, which featured radially disposed transverse beams resembling the spokes of a wheel. They were also angled rather than horizontal. The stone and iron chains are hidden from view, so their exact composition remains a mystery.
In 1424, a fifth chain made of wood was added 25 feet above the first, sandstone chain. Brunelleschi had originally planned for four such chains, all made of wood. In practice, however, he was forced to use chestnut spliced with oak clamps. He only installed one wooden chain. The wooden, stone, and metal chains helped to create the “system of invisible buttressing” (76) which supported and distributed the immense weight of the dome without the buttress which were so closely linked to Gothic architecture. Manetti alludes to hidden innovations which Brunelleschi included to protect against earthquakes and natural disasters, though these have not been reliably uncovered. Likewise, the installation of the first wooden chain may have formed part of Brunelleschi’s ongoing rivalry with Ghiberti, with Brunelleschi hoping to expose his rival’s lack of practical knowledge.
Although Ghiberti and Brunelleschi were both appointed to oversee work on the dome, Brunelleschi had “swiftly eclipsed” (78) his rival. The wooden chain gave Brunelleschi another opportunity to discredit Ghiberti. When the timber arrived in Florence, Brunelleschi took to bed with a sickness. Ghiberti was tasked with overseeing the installation of the wooden chain. Since Ghiberti was not privy to Brunelleschi’s secretive plans, however, the work ground to a halt. Suddenly, the healthy Brunelleschi returned to the site and criticized everything Ghiberti had done, demanding that the chain be rebuilt. The chain became a way for Brunelleschi to expose Ghiberti’s “incompetence to both the wardens and the people of Florence” (80). As a result, Brunelleschi’s salary was tripled while Ghiberti’s remained the same.
The story of the feigned illness resembles another elaborate trick from Manetti’s account of Brunelleschi’s life. In Manetti’s book-length story, The Tale of the Fat Carpenter, a fictionalized Brunelleschi recruits people across Florence to convince a carpenter named Manetto di Jacopo that he had metamorphosed into someone else. People around Florence spoke to Manetto as though he were Matteo, another Florentine man. King likens Brunelleschi’s elaborate practical joke to his explanation of linear perspective, in which “he showed the viewer of the painting a clever fabrication that tricked him into mistaking the artificial for the real [just as he] fashioned a unique perspective for Manetto by reordering and controlling his perceptions” (82).
A key issue in constructing the dome was ensuring that the two shells rose in tandem. Even a slight deviation in the stonework or masonry could have been disastrous. The masons on the site had “basic measuring devices” (84) such as plumb lines and levels. Brunelleschi again invented devices to aid the construction of his dome. A cord stretched from the center of the dome to the circumference, for example, could be used to determine the order and curvature of the bricks and mortar. Like many of Brunelleschi’s inventions, such a device—a trammel—is now common for bricklayers working on curved walls.
Despite the effectiveness of Brunelleschi’s inventions, he still faced criticism. In 1425, Giovanni da Prato—an ally of Ghiberti—accused Brunelleschi of betraying the intentions of the original model designed by Neri di Fioravanti, particularly in disregarding the so-called pointed fifth shape of the Fioravanti’s proposed dome. The “pointed fifth” is higher than semicircular or rounded shapes and generates less radial thrust, giving it structural advantages over domes of shallower angles. Prato accused Brunelleschi of building a rounded, rather than a pointed, dome. He claimed that Brunelleschi would “brazenly spoil and endanger the church” (88), insisting that he would not be to blame when Brunelleschi’s shortcomings were revealed.
Prato’s claims were without basis. Instead, Prato was jealous of Brunelleschi, whose designs (and the accompanying prize money) had been selected ahead of Prato’s own submissions. Prato also continued to make his complaints about the potential lack of light in the cathedral, insisting that the lack of windows would result in a “murky and gloomy” (90) atmosphere. In this respect, the proliferation of light in cathedrals was very much a Gothic ideal. During this early part of the Renaissance, scholars debated whether a darker space might be more reflective and somber. Prato’s complaints were ignored, and Brunelleschi was given another pay raise. As such, Brunelleschi consolidated his influence over the project and pushed his rivals Prato and Ghiberti to the periphery.
Throughout Brunelleschi’s Dome, Filippo Brunelleschi repeatedly demonstrates his inventiveness. He designs and builds machines for very specific purposes, machines that prefigure technology that would only become widespread many decades in the future. In this sense, King depicts Brunelleschi as a man ahead of his time. He is not burdened by the limitations of what is possible, as he builds the machines that make his vision of the future a reality. King conveys the brilliance of these machines in very practical terms. Through Brunelleschi’s work, architecture emerges as the consummate Renaissance art form: one that combines the aesthetic, cultural, and even moral preoccupations of what we now call “fine art” with the practical know-how of applied science and engineering. While the beauty of art is an inherently subjective phenomenon, Brunelleschi’s engineering brilliance can be quantified. The exact tonnage of his hoists can be measured out: With every load of materials lifted hundreds of feet from the ground, Brunelleschi demonstrates the practical consequence of his ingenuity. Notably, Brunelleschi closely guards the secrets of his architectural plans but he does little to hide his machines. They are on public display, making them somewhat immune to Brunelleschi’s paranoia, but his apparent disregard for their innovative uniqueness suggests that his true passion lay in the dome. These inventions—as radical and as impressive as they may seem to modern audiences—were simply a means to an end. They served a single purpose, which was to construct the vision of the dome which Brunelleschi guarded in his mind.
King relies on contemporary accounts of Brunelleschi’s life—accounts that were often of questionable veracity, highlighting The Fine Line Between History and Legend. Antonio Manetti’s multi-volume biography of Brunelleschi is a case in point. Not only is it not entirely clear that Manetti is the author of all three volumes of the biography, but many of its factual statements cannot be verified, and some parts of the text are more suggestive than factual. The Tale of the Fat Carpenter, for example, is an extended digression from the historical account of the construction of the dome. While the fictional story might not tell the audience how exactly the cupola of Santa Maria del Fiore was built, it does provide insight into how Brunelleschi’s contemporaries saw him. In this story, Brunelleschi plays an elaborate practical joke which, as King suggests, evokes a dreamlike sense of being unable to tell what is real and what is false. In this story, the man charged with building the dome shows that he can build entirely new worlds in people’s minds. His inventiveness exists in a strange unreality, suggesting an ability to see the world in a way that other people do not. The Tale of the Fat Carpenter may be entirely fictional, but the way in which men like Manetti retell the story in reverential tones demonstrates their awe and wonder. They believe Brunelleschi is capable of anything, from the most elaborate practical joke to defying everything they believe about architecture and science. The story is less important than the way in which it is told and retold; the story shows how Brunelleschi’s life quickly becomes a legend.
As work progresses on the dome, rivalries on the site become increasingly pronounced, and Brunelleschi appears to rely on Professional Rivalry as a Catalyst for Innovation. As well as Ghiberti, Brunelleschi’s longstanding rival, Brunelleschi must contend with the constant complaints of Giovanni da Prato. Though da Prato was considered by many to be an ally (or even a representative) of Ghiberti, his complaints provide an ideological counterpoint against which Brunelleschi can assert his ideas. Da Prato advocates for large windows to be included in the designs for the cathedral, as he wishes to fill the holy space with light. This is a feature of Gothic architecture, exactly the kind of aesthetic which Brunelleschi railed against. The stained glass windows and the bright, airy churches were a thing of the past, so Giovanni da Prato emerges as a convenient voice of earlier generations. His constant intrusions on the construction symbolize the intrusions of the past on the present, representing the doubters and naysayers who decried Brunelleschi’s ability to actually achieve his vision. Giovanni da Prato may not be remembered by history, but he plays a vital role in Brunelleschi’s story by giving him a personal and an ideological enemy to defeat in his quest to build the dome.