Seeing this book come out of the box made me happier than any of the other books in this set because it is just a beautiful piece of art. The front cover is a close-up of an elegant statue that focuses on a pair of hands. I always gravitated towards drawing hands when I was young and practicing art: they display a lot of character without carrying the weight, size, and other stereotypical ideas regarding human beauty: chubby hands are more appealing in a drawing. The cover’s text is also coated in pinkish gold ink: making it as luxurious to the eye than any piece of jewelry one might display. The back cover is a classical painting of a mother and child, executed with Renaissance elegance and precision. I plan on exhibiting this book on my desk to give my room a bit more style: I am a minimalist so book covers on shelves are the only decorations I allow in my space.
“Andrea del Verrocchio (c. 1435–1488) was one of the most versatile and inventive artists of the Italian Renaissance. He created art across media, from his spectacular sculptures and paintings to his work in goldsmithing, architecture, and engineering. His expressive, confident drawings provide a key point of contact between sculpture and painting. He led a vibrant workshop where he taught young artists who later became some of the greatest painters of the period, including Leonardo da Vinci, Sandro Botticelli, Lorenzo di Credi, and Domenico Ghirlandaio.” When I saw the name in the catalog is sounded vaguely familiar, but now seeing it next to da Vinci’s and Botticelli’s names explains why he deserves a massive book dedicated to his work. Teaching others how to become the best artists of all time, according to many, indicates that the teacher’s abilities must have either outflanked them, or his art holds some of these secrets he imparted to them but might not have been able to maximize in his own creations. His influence on these greats also indicates that they contributed to these pieces collaboratively, thus Verrocchio’s pieces are in part also part of the da Vinci and Botticelli canons if collaborative work counts as belonging to the students who executed the details as well as to the master who planned the project. “This beautifully illustrated book presents a comprehensive survey of Verrocchio’s art, spanning his entire career and featuring some fifty sculptures, paintings, and drawings, in addition to works he created with his students. Through incisive scholarly essays, in-depth catalog entries, and breathtaking illustrations, this volume draws on the latest research in art history to show why Verrocchio was one of the most innovative and influential of all Florentine artists.” This massive undertaking is particularly beautiful and polished because it was published in association with the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC.
Even inside the cover folds there are close-ups of sketches of the baby that was then executed in paint in the work featured on the back cover. These pen and ink sketches are particular favorites for other artists because they inspire sentimental reflections about our own doodles.
Some art books allow the paintings to speak, but this approach makes readers question why any text was added at all. In contrast, this book includes essays that examine Verrocchio’s art in a scientific manner, considering the nature of his skill, the humanist culture of the period in Florence, Verrocchio’s sculpturally and painting biography, collaboratory workshop culture, and his models. The essays are illustrated with numerous examples of the information covered, and then a catalog shows his sculptures, paintings and drawings in separate sections for those who want to consider these side-by-side. There is plenty of commentary in the catalog as well that describes the art history and techniques in these pieces. The last two essays offer a still more technical look with one on Verocchio’s bronze or metal-work techniques and another on spectral imaging in his painting (the last is written by six different authors jointly, and it does seem the subject is complex enough for collaboration to be needed). The printing is so well executed that Benozzo Gozzoli’s Procession of the Magi (1459-60) has gold elements that sparkle as if the book was printed in gold leaf… It would be difficult to convince me that it wasn’t. I have never put my nose and hands in contact with this much gold before. Zooming into an image of this painting online could not approximate the sensation of studying the lines of the hair from an inch away from a character’s face. It makes me want to draw an imitation of this composition to understand how this painter or collaborative managed these curious details. The strange unrealistic perspective brings the meaning and beauty of the characters to the forefront rather than any proximity of the history portrayed to reality (32-3). The text next to this image explains that past critics have had the misconception that Verrocchio was a “court artist”, whereas in truth he ran a workshop that was hired for contracts by the Medici family, who were wealthy bankers and dabbled in religious politics, rather than serving as monarchs of Florence (34). This type of information is popular-knowledge due to the many TV shows about the Medicis and the artists they hired, but it should help the general public and specialists to refresh their memory on such details as they consider the politics, theology and monetary considerations behind this artwork. The comparative style of this book also focuses on the relative value of art, as it considers why Verrocchio is less prized today than some of his students. For example, the authors position Verrocchio’s statue of David against Donatello’s David; Verrocchio’s version has more defined lines, a more elegant and attractive face, a complex portrait of Goliath’s cut-off head by his foot, and other elements that perhaps should have ingratiated it better to viewers; Verrocchio chose this subject to prove his superiority over the older master on the same subject (55). Scans of some elements and comparisons of several elements such as hands are offered during scholarly discussions, which draw these types of conclusions regarding “spatial effects”: “innovative use of sfumato… to describe and modulate the flesh tones is replicated in paintings as an increased depth… imbuing the figures with a sense of bodily weight and substance” (79-80). The stolen image of Verrocchio’s Crucified Christ with Saints Jerome and Anthony Abbott zooms in so close to one of the saints’ faces that it made me think it was a photograph of an old modern man instead of a painting as I flipped through the book; it is extremely precise in its lines, and the watery and bloodshot eye and the intricate eyebrow leaning over it are executed with photographic precision (198-201). I have been spoiled by receiving books like this one for free in the mail: this is probably the reason I have not gone into a museum once across the past decade after going regularly prior. The stolen image also makes me realize that this book is probably one of the best books ever created for art-forgers. Anybody who wants to execute a precise mimicry of the covered artists’ style, color pigments, shading, and the rest could not find better imagery and explanations than in the pages of this book. Then again, anybody who can sit through closely reading a book like this and admiring the brilliance of these images should probably invest that energy into creating some new art to compete with the brilliance of these masters. Surely, given how much we now understand about their technique and artistry, modern artists can manage to create superior art; and yet, looking over these pieces, I remain convinced that they demonstrate the peak of human artistic talent.