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December 2007

Vol. 149 | No. 1257

Sculpture

Editorial

Needed: A Controller of Inanimate People

THE INFESTATION OF public places in London and elsewhere by statues and memorials – one would be hard pressed to call them sculpture – is now of serious concern. Only last year we discussed this problem in an Editorial that elicited many responses, all agreeing that the quality and quantity of works being dotted about streets and open spaces was no longer a laughing matter. Two in particular caused the most offence – the memorial in Whitehall to women serving in the Second World War and the memorial in Park Lane to animals killed in war. Soon after the appearance of the Editorial and during the wrangle over the positioning of a proposed statue of Nelson Mandela, Westminster City Council, responsible for the statuary of Central London, announced that the capital was rapidly running out of suitable sites for further public commemorations. It suggested that ‘living memorials’ such as trees and gardens might be favoured above bronze and stone as a way of remembering the great and the dead. This was welcome news but obviously too late to prevent the Mandela statue and that of the Liberal Prime Minister David Lloyd George being added to Parliament Square, or the inauguration of the New Zealand War Memorial in late 2006 at Hyde Park Corner. Further commissions, beyond the Council’s remit, have included Antony Dufort’s bronze figure of Baroness Thatcher, in full debate, towering over former Prime Ministers (including a recently installed bust of Sir John Major) in the Palace of Westminster; two contrasting sculptures in St Pancras International station, unveiled in the last few weeks; and, in Kensington and Chelsea, a full-length sculpture of Sir Hans Sloane by Simon Smith, in a pastiche of the celebrated figure of Sloane by Rysbrack, just off the King’s Road. In the pipeline is the memorial to Queen Elizabeth, The Queen Mother, necessitating an architectural and sculptural project in the Mall which will incorporate the existing statue of her husband, George VI. Westminster City Council granted planning permission for this in June this year.

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  • A rediscovered portrait of Benvenuto Cellini attributed to Francesco Ferrucci del Tadda and Cellini

    By Louis Alexander Waldman

    THIRTY YEARS AFTER the clamorous rediscovery of the manuscript of Benvenuto Cellini’s Autobiography in 1805, the Milanese painter Giuseppe Mazza (1817–84) produced his celebrated canvas depicting Cellini in his workshop dictating his Autobiography (Fig.1). In Mazza’s imagination the sculptor’s studio appeared as a sparsely furnished space, and the few objects present appear to have been chosen specifically for their power to evoke aspects of the sculptor’s colourful biography. In the shadows behind the artist, a glint of light reveals the artist’s sword, helmet and gorget – the tools of Cellini’s other ‘career’ as a duellist. At his feet a gorgon’s head – apparently a study for his masterwork, the Perseus – lies abjectly on the floor together with an overturned metal vase and a stone-cutter’s mallet. Benvenuto appears in the act of simultaneously dictating his Autobiography and carving the marble Crucifix originally destined for his tomb (now in the Escorial); the nineteenth-century painter was well aware that the carving of the Crucifix and the start of work on the Autobiography took place contemporaneously during the second half of the 1550s. On the right side of the scene, behind the young amanuensis, is a large white rectangular marble relief. Although its outlines are deliberately ambiguous and sketchy, it seems likely that Mazza intended the relief in the corner of Cellini’s studio to be understood as a work by the master himself; its size and vertical format suggest a portrait.

  • Gaspare Fantuzzi: a patron of sculpture in Renaissance Bologna

    By Jeremy Warren

    VERY RARELY CAN surviving smaller-scale sculptures from the Italian Renaissance be directly related to the individuals who owned them, especially when those individuals are neither princes nor prelates. One such exception is the moralist Fra Sabba di Castiglione (1480–1554), among whose possessions, lovingly described in the celebrated description in his Ricordi of his study in the Commenda in Faenza, was a fine terracotta relief of St Jerome, made by Sabba’s friend Alfonso Lombardi, which survives today in the Pinacoteca in Faenza, along with other works of art from Sabba’s modest collection. It is intriguing that Bologna, just a little further along the via Emilia, should have produced another of these rare collectors whose possessions can be identified. No fewer than three sculptures commissioned by the nobleman Gaspare Fantuzzi can be identified because he had a highly personal inscription added to each work in a place normally hidden from view. The group comprises two marble reliefs and one bronze figure, to which should be added a remarkable medal of Fantuzzi and his wife, the only known portraits of both sitters. Although the two marble reliefs have often been published and discussed, mainly in the context of their attribution, the group of sculptures has never until now been considered together in the context of what we know about Fantuzzi’s life, character and interests.

  • Harry Bates’s ‘Mors janua vitae’

    By Joseph Sharples

    THE SCULPTOR HARRY BATES (1850–99) died of heart disease on 30th January 1899. He was not quite forty-nine, but his career as an artist had been even briefer than his relatively early death might suggest. Until the age of twenty-nine, when he entered the Lambeth School of Art, London, he had been a stonecarver with the architectural sculptors Farmer & Brindley. In December 1881 he enrolled in the Royal Academy schools, and attended classes there for the next two years, winning a gold medal and a travelling studentship which took him to Paris in 1883. All the works by which he is known today were produced in the seventeen years between 1882 and his death.