Kelley Helmstutler Di Dio
Shipping Sculptures from Early Modern Italy
The Mechanics, Costs, Risks, and Rewards
Contents Introduction 7
A Note about Currency 15
Chapter 1 From Origin to Destination 16
Step 1: Identifying Where to Commission or Buy a Sculpture 18
Networks in Italy 19
Expatriate Networks 20
Networks of Artists 22
Step 2: Contracts 26
Step 3: Material Acquisition 28
Step 4: Preparing the Sculpture for Shipment 31
Step 5: Choosing Transport Routes: Land vs. Sea 32
Step 6: Getting the Sculpture to a Port 35
Choosing a Port 36
Genoa 37
Livorno 40
Civitavecchia 41
Naples 43 Ports of Sicily 44
Step 7: Loading, Unloading, and the Mechanics of Moving 45 Machines 47
Ships 53
Step 8: Arrival at a Destination Port 56
Customs, Passports, Labor, and Other Considerations 57
Step 9: Delivering the Sculpture to Its Destination 58
Step 10: Presenting and Installing the Sculpture 60
Total Times and Costs 61
Chapter 2 Churches 64
Marble Sculptures for Churches 66
Case Study: Cellini’s Marble Crucifix 83
Bronze Sculptures for Churches 86
Case Study: Pompeo Leoni and the High Altar Chapel of the Basilica of San Lorenzo, El Escorial 92
The Process of Shipping from Milan to Genoa 96
Preparations: Weighing, Packing, and Marking 96
Shipment by Land 100
From the Port to the Destination 102
Sculptures in Other Materials for Churches 105
Chapter 3 Residences 110
Antiquities 113
Shipments of Antiquities during the Reigns of Charles V and Philip II 115
C ase Study: Per Afan de Ribera and Antiquities for the Casa de Pilatos 116
Shipments of Antiquities during the Reign of Philip IV 118
C ase Study: Philip IV, Velázquez, and Antiquities for the Alcázar 118
Shipments of Antiquities under Isabella Farnese 122
Other Types of Sculptures 124
St atuettes 124
C ase Study: The Gold Equestrian Statuette of Philip IV 126
Modern and Contemporary Larger-Scale Sculptures for Interiors 128
Modern and Contemporary Larger-Scale Sculptures for Exteriors 132
Fountains for Charles V 133
Fountains during the Reign of Philip II 135
Fountains during the Reign of Philip III 137
Case Study: Giambologna’s Samson and the Philistine and Cristoforo Stati’s Samson and the Lion 137
Fountains and Other Garden Sculpture during the Reigns of Philip IV and Charles II 142
Chapter 4 P ublic Sites 146
Civic Commissions 147
Royal Sculptures for Public Viewing 150
C ase Study: The Equestrian Monuments of Philip III, Henry IV, and Philip IV 150
Henry IV 155
Philip III 158
Philip IV 162
Con C l usion Hidden Costs and Hidden Histories 170
Appendix to Chapter 2 177
Appendix to Chapter 3 201
Appendix to Chapter 4 203
Select Bibliography 2 21
Index 228
1. 5
View of the Port of Genoa, from Nouveau theatre d’Italie, ou description exacte de ses villes, palais, églises... / sur les desseins de seu Monsieur Jean Blaeu, 1704, (Royal Spanish Naval Observatory via the Biblioteca Virtual del Patrimonio Bibliográfico)
l ivorno
Another major port was Livorno, which was purchased by the Florentines from the Genoese in 1421 and was then used as a Florentine harbor. It was much smaller than Genoa’s port; even at its height, it had only 2000 meters of dock space, versus the 3000 meters available in Genoa.93 Pisa had previously been the main port in Tuscany, but it was no longer able to handle the amount of traffic that Florence and Tuscany demanded. The Medici ordered the expansion of the harbor in Livorno and developed a grid city plan with a central square. Livorno became a key shipment point for Pisa and Florence, though the old and new parts of Livorno were not sufficiently well connected to allow the city to grow significantly. This lack of urban infrastructure had a significant impact on the fabric of Livorno, as the older parts became less important and interest shifted to the new areas; traffic went from the port directly to the new part of city, where the road leading to Pisa and Florence could be reached.94
With the expansion of international trade in the sixteenth century, the Medici Grand Dukes were determined that Livorno should have the infrastructure necessary for competing with Genoa’s port and, therefore, rebuilt Livorno’s port. Because the city’s population was small in the earlier decades of the sixteenth century, the Medici sought to
12 Poschmann, “Datos nuevos y curiosos,” p. 45: “yo el licenciado Muñoz, oydor y capellan mayor de la capilla rreal de Granada, electo Obispo de Almería, digo que recibí de Hernando de Corral, criado de su magestad, los bultos del catolico rrey don Felipe y de la rreyna nuestra senora, los quales rrecibí en veynte y seis caxas grandes y pequenas, y mas ocho caxas en las quales abia en cada una una piedra negra lisa, y más otras dos caxas y en cada caxa tres piedras pequeñas lisas, más cinco pedazos negros y blancos, que dizen que son para adobar lo quebrado en lo qual todo se halla una cabeza de un santo y otras piezas que faltavan a bultos y santos, lo firmé de mi nombre, fecho a primero de agosto de mdxxxix años.”
13 Poschmann, “Datos nuevos y curiosos,” p. 46.
Antonio Maria Aprile, Tomb of Pedro Enriquez Ribera, Cartuja de las Cuevas, Seville, 1520 (Jl FilpoC, cc by-sa 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/ licenses/by-sa /4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)
execute the tombs “as it is in the drawing.”14 He mentioned a concern about the fragility of the effigies and of the inscribed tablets to be sent: “as your lord prescribes I will carve the effigies from the back with the shoulders out taking care that the said figures stay safe from breakage as also I will take care that the stone tablet also remains undamaged.”15
Indeed, such projects involved not only production in Genoa but careful arrangements for safe transportation and installation on site in Spain. The sculptors would accompany a sculpture on its journey so they could make any necessary repairs and ensure it was properly installed. For the tomb of the Bishop of Àvila Francisco Ruiz (1523, now destroyed) in San Juan de la Penitencia de Toledo, which was executed by Antonio Maria Aprile and Pier Angelo della Scala, Bernardo Gaggini and della Scala accompanied the work from Genoa and were paid 6 gold scudi for their stay.16 Antonio Maria and Giovanni Antonio Aprile also worked on the tomb. Giovanni Antonio was to accompany the tomb and install it for 50 ducats, plus a small stipend for his assistant.17
The tomb of Cardinal Juan Pardo de Tavera (fig. 2.4) was an incredibly expensive monument, in part because the materials were transported from Genoa. Alonso Berruguete received 3000 ducats for the project, and that price did not include the acquisition of materials and transportation. Berruguete sent a wood model of the tomb to Italy so that a suitable block of marble could be located for it.18 In late 1556/early 1557, Juan de Lugano, the Lombard stoneworker and agent who was living in Spain and who was discussed in Chapter 1, promised to take eight blocks of marble, which had been blocked out according to the model, from Carrara to Toledo. He arrived in Alicante, along with the cases of sculpture for the Tavera monument and those with pieces of the tomb project for the IV Conde de Condestable Pedro Fernández de Velasco and Mencia de Mendoza Condesa de Haro, which was also by Berruguete and was destined for Burgos, thus saving a trip.19 The part of the shipment for the latter tomb included eight stones; two were of the figures “in conformity with a model by the hand of Berruguete, resident of Valladolid,” and the other six included two cushions and four coats of arms.20 They were received by Francisco de Marron the “art official” in Alicante who had been sent by Hernan Gonzales, the foreman of the quarry. The blocks were deemed to be of very good white marble without any imperfections.21 In the shipment of Tavera’s tomb, there were also eight pieces of marble “from the quarry in Polvaccio that is in Carrara in the Marquesate of Massa, clean without any cracks, marks, or veins, and in conformity with the piece of marble that was taken for the figure of the Illustrious Lord Cardinal Juan Tabera.”22 On 2 January 1557, Alonso de Cabria, Juan de San Matheo, and Ginés Hernandez, residents of Murcia, were paid 436 reales by Juan de Lugano to take the figure of the cardinal from Alicante to Toledo. On 7 January, Alonso de Cabria and Juan de Lugano were paid 25,225 maravedíes, a price based on the value of the sculpture that was agreed in Genoa (36 ducats), to take the sculpture from Genoa to Alicante, and for Lugano’s work in getting the sculpture from Alicante to Toledo. Juan de Lugano also received, on 2 November 1558, 14,970 maravedíes for transporting the eight pieces of white marble from Genoa to Toledo. Hernan Gonzales was paid 748 maravedíes for the three days of round-trip travel to Madrid to see the marbles and sculpture of the cardinal. On 13 September 1571, Nicolas de Vergara of Toledo was paid 9000 maravedíes for going to Alcala to see the base and figure of the cardinal don Francisco Ximenez in order to compare it to the one of Tavera and to check its quality.23 Juan de Lugano then paid 436 reales to Juan de San Mateo and Gínes Hernández to arrange the transport to Toledo; he, instead, was paid 36 ducats for the leg from Genoa to Alicante, which included the room and board required for San Mateo’s and Hernández’s travels.24
In 1560, Angela de Cardenas y Velasco commissioned Juan de Lugano to execute tombs of her parents. The contract described two large sculptures of the deceased, arches, various other figures, and architectural elements, all of which were to be installed in the Santísimo Sacramento de Torrijos; the project was to be accomplished for a total price of
fig. 2. 4
Alonso Berruguete, Cardinal Tavera, Hospital de San Juan Batista (or de Tavera), Toledo, c.1552 (Alamy)
14 The contracts for this commission included other projects: thirty-three columns for the Patio de las Doncellas, a carved portal, and two fountains, all of which were to be made by the same artists and of Carrara marble. The contracts were published by José Gestoso y Pérez, Sevilla monumental y artistica: historia y descripción de todos los edificios notables, religiosos y civiles, que existen actualmente en esta ciudad y noticia de las preciosidades artísticas y arqueológicas que en ellos se conservan, 3 vols. (Seville: Monte de Piedad y Caja de Ahorros de Sevilla, 1892; 2nd edition 1984), iii , pp. 94–95: “despues hare aquella sepultura del arco con sus cinco muertos y todos pormenores del diseño, come epitafios y las letras de los epitafios escavadas en color de estuco negro. Y despues para la otra sepultura del otro lado con aquellos tres muertos, y las armas y epitafios como está en el diseño, a la medida y proporcion que su señoria escribe y despues hare aquellos dos otros muertos que su señoria escribe ahora nuevamente, uno de hombre y otro de mujer, con una lapida de diez palmos
de largo y cuatro de ancho, y como su senoria escribe que yo esculpa los muertos de detras con los hombros fuera teniendo cuidado de que dichas figuras estan a salvo de romperse como tambien cuidará del grueso de la lapida para que no corra a quell peligro. Y ademas a darle a quell muchacho y la sepultura de su señor padre y además me obligo a ir yo mismo a colocar aquellas obras, a condicion de que su senoria me dé los 50 ducados referidos en la otra obligacion. Y yo me comprometo a darle todos estos trabajos que arriba refiero encajonadaos y puestos en la nave en el Puerto de Genova todo a mis expensas, y por el precio a todas estas obras susodichas que se me den 1800 ducados de oro en oro al valor del ducado de oro contando los 600 ducados que yo he tomado, restan 1200 ducados que se me deben. […] y más todavia para las recompensas de aquel maestro que yo he de llevar conmigo para ayudar a la colocación.”
15 Gestoso y Pérez, Sevilla monumental y artistica, pp. 94–95.
16 Juan de Contreras, Escultura de Carrara en España (Madrid: Instituto Diego Vel á zquez, del Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Cient í ficas, 1957), p. 16.
17 Rosa López Torrijos, “La scultura genovese in Spagna,” in La scultura a Genova e in Liguria, ed. by. Gianni Dagnino et al., 3 vols. (Genoa: Cassa di Risparmio di Genova e Imperi, 1987), i , pp. 366–381. The tomb was part of an elaborate marble retable, whose authorship is unclear; however, it is likely that the della Porta family was involved. Gian Giacomo della Porta, Giovanni Maria da Passallo, Giovanni and Leonardo Aprile da Carona, and Michele Solari were commissioned in 1548 for the tomb of the marqueses of Villanueva, Don Juan Portocarrero and his wife, Doña María Osorio, for the Monastery of Sta. Clara, Moguer (Huelva), though only della Porta, Passallo, and perhaps Giovanni Aprile da Carona worked on the tomb. Margarita Estella has attributed the
project to della Porta in her article “La importación de esculturas italianas: obras en España del taller de los Della Porta, de Giambologna y del Naccherino,” in El modelo italiano en las artes plásticas de la Península Ibérica durante el Renacimiento, ed. by Mar í a Jos é Redondo Cantera and Nicole Dacos (Valladolid: Universidad de Valladolid, 2004), p. 431.
18 Redondo Cantera, El sepulcro en España, p. 64.
19 For this project, see Isabel del Rio de la Hoz, “El mármol de Carrara: una elección social del Condestable de Castilla, 1532–55,” in Le vie del marmo: aspetti della produzione e della diffusione dei manufati marmorei tra Quattrocento e Cinquecento: atti della giornata di studio, ed. by Roberto Paolo Ciardi and Severina Russo (Florence: Giunti, 1994), pp. 31–44.
20 Manuel Gómez Moreno, Las águilas del Renacimiento español: Bartolomé Ordoñez, Diego Siloé, Pedro Machuca, Alonso Berruguete, 1517–1558 (Madrid: Gráficas Uguina, 1941), pp. 248–249, doc. xlii
21 Gómez Moreno, Las águilas, pp. 248–249, doc. xlii
22 Gómez Moreno, Las aguilas, p. 249, doc. xliii: “de la cantera de porbazo que esta en carrara en el marquesado de maça, linpias sin beta ni mancha ni pelo y conforme a la pieca de marmol que traxo del bulto del illmo senor cardenal don juan tabera.”
23 Gómez Moreno, Las aguilas, p. 251, doc. xliii
24 Redondo Cantera, El sepulcro en España, pp. 48–51.
Case Study: Pompeo Leoni and the High Altar Chapel of the Basilica of San Lorenzo, El Escorial
The project for the Escorial retable and the side chapels in the high altar chapel (fig. 2.18) was not only the largest of its time, but also one of the best documented.84 Pompeo Leoni’s and Gaspar Castillo’s journals contain weekly reports on everything that occurred in the acquisition of materials, the production of the works, and the transport from Milan to the ports in Spain. This incredible trove of documents offers insight into the issues of producing and shipping such a complex project.
While offers of sculptures from Italy, such as Cellini’s Crucifix, continued to come in, by 1579, Philip opted to hire Italian sculptors living at his court: Pompeo Leoni, Jacopo da Trezzo, and Gian Battista Comane. This trio organized the enormous workforce required to create the fifteen over-life sized, gilded bronze statues of saints, the Evangelists and Doctors of the Church, a crucifix flanked by the Virgin and St. John the Evangelist, a tabernacle with thirteen gilded statuettes of the apostles, the jasper and bronze architectural frames, and adornments for the retable and the tabernacle. The project was expanded to include two groups of five slightly over-life-sized, gilded bronze figures, some of whose vestments were decorated with pietre dure. It was, in sum, an enormous undertaking that required the acquisition of materials across a broad geographical span (for instance, gold from the Spanish colonies, jasper from Spain, and the bronzes from Italy), an efficient and reliable workforce (including sculptors, cart drivers, customs agents and other governmental officials, shipbuilders, captains, and port laborers), a well-equipped infrastructure (encompassing roads, ports, ships, carts, and oxen), enormous financial expenditure, and considerable risk. The project was especially complex because the sculptural pieces were not made in Spain, near their intended location, but instead were made about 1600 kilometers away in Milan.
For the stone elements, the materials came mostly from Spain, but the stoneworkers were Italian. Jacopo Trezzo organized the work; he had artists brought from Italy in 1581. Francisco Dandis Florentinos, Antonio Lavagna, Aurelio Solario, and Domenico Paterno left Genoa for the Spanish court on 21 November 1581 and arrived at the Escorial on 9 January 1582.85 While the sculptors lived and worked at the court, Pompeo Leoni returned to his father’s shop in Milan to make the bronze sculptures. Meanwhile, Comane worked on site at the Escorial to do the stonework of the retable (after his death, he was replaced by Pedro Castello), and Trezzo executed the tabernacle in Madrid.86 Pompeo had, at this point, been at the court in Spain for twenty-three years and had already worked with Trezzo and Comane, his fellow Lombards, on stone sculptures, as well as ephemera and mixed media ensembles, including the funerary chapel of Juana de Austria in the Descalzas Reales (1576), which was discussed above. Leoni, Trezzo, and Comane had a couple of studio spaces they used for these projects, but the most important studio was in Jacopo’s house, steps away from the palace. The studios specialized in stone carving, smaller metalwork, and pieces of precious stones. Once the contract for the Escorial project was finalized, Pompeo Leoni argued that he needed to return to Milan to make the bronze sculpture, and that doing so would be more efficient in terms of both time and money, despite the distance.
Given what we know about shipping costs, labor, and the time necessary to ship sculptures, it is remarkable that Pompeo’s request was successful. Trezzo tried to intervene and have the plan changed so that instead of executing the bronzes in Milan, he would make them either in Madrid or at the Escorial. According to Trezzo, his scheme would reduce the time and expense required since the the sculptures would not have to be sent from Milan, but he pinpointed other problems with Leoni’s plan. He stated that it would be impossible to send the cases of sculptures from Milan to Genoa because of
84 For the Escorial sculptures, see the incredible scholarship of Agustín Bustamante García: “Las estatuas de bronce del Escorial: datos para su historia (i),” Anuario del Departamento de Historia y Teoría del Arte, 5 (1993), 41–57; “Las estatuas de bronce del Escorial: datos para su historia (ii),” Anuario del Departamento de Historia y Teoría del Arte, 6 (1994), 159–177; “Las estatuas de bronce del Escorial: datos para su historia (iii),” Anuario del Departamento de Historia y Teoría del Arte, 8 (1995), 69–86; La octava maravilla del mundo: estudio histórico sobre El Escorial de Felipe ii (Madrid: Alpuerto, 1994); “Tumbas reales en El Escorial,” in Felipe ii y el arte de su tiempo (Madrid: Fundación Argentaria, 1998), pp. 55–78; “El grupo sepulcral de Felipe ii ,” in Leone & Pompeo Leoni: actas del congreso internacional, ed. by Stephan Schröder (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 2012), pp. 149–159. Bustamante was a kind, generous, and highly skilled scholar. I am grateful for my conversations with him and for the many sources he shared with me.
Equal thanks are due to my mentor, Rosemarie Mulcahy. Her scholarship on Spanish religious patronage during the time of Philip ii and Philip iii is unmatched. On the Escorial, see especially: “The High Altar-Piece of the Basilica of San Lorenzo de el Escorial: An Unpublished Document,” The Burlington Magazine, 122, no. 924 (1980), 188–192; The Decoration of the Royal Basilica of El Escorial (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994); (co-edited with Frits Scholten) Adriaen de Vries 1556–1626 (Amsterdam: Rijksmuseum, 1998), especially her essay, “Adriaen de Vries in the workshop of Pompeo Leoni,” pp. 46–51; and her last essay, “The Calvary by Pompeo Leoni for the High Altarpiece of the Escorial ‘la mejor cosa que se pueda hacer imaginar,’” in Leone & Pompeo Leoni: actas del congreso internacional, ed. Stephan Schröder (Madrid: Museo Nacional del Prado, 2012), pp. 121–131.
See also Eloísa García, “La obra en bronce hecha en Italia para el retablo y tabernáculo de San Lorenzo el Real del Escorial,” bsaa , 12 (1945), 127–145; Barbara Paola Conti, “Madrid-Milano: scapellini e scultori per il ‘Retablo mayor’: prime annotazioni’, in La escultura en el monasterio del Escorial: actas del simposium, ed. by F. Javier Campos and Fernández de Sevilla (Madrid: Estudios Superiores del Escorial, 1994), pp. 329–342; Wendy Sepponen, “Milanese Bronze, Spanish Stone, and Imperial Materials: Sculptural Interchange and the Leoni Workshops (1549–1608)” (Ph.D. dissertation, University of Michigan, 2018); José Luis Cano de Gardoqui García, “Nuevos documentos relativos a la obra de los cenotafios reales de la Basílica del Monasterio de El Escorial,” Libros de la corte, 17 (2018), 10–32. The documents cited here come from the
View of the high altar chapel, San Lorenzo El Escorial (DoctorJoeE, cc by-sa 4.0 https://creativecommons. org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons)
Archivo General de Simancas. They are bound in two volumes, ags 261 and 262. I am grateful to Isabel Aguirre and (again) Agustín Bustamante and Rosemarie Mulcahy for sharing references that led to my full exploration and analysis of the volumes. I rely on them here, and I am currently preparing a comprehensive study, Pompeo Leoni and the Escorial, based on the information I have located.
85 ags 261, 1579: “Con il primo pasagio di nave, o sia galere, che partirano da questo porto di Genova inbarcarsi e far partenza de qui per le parti di Spagna, e gionta in terra transferirsi subbito in detta luoco di Madrid, e insistare alle [?] servicio di detti Sig.ri Pompeo giacobo e battista secondo che da loro li sara imposto e ordinato e quelli servire bene e fidelmente e con diligenza per duoi anni che comincierano dalla partenza de ciascuno di loro respettivamente de qui e al incontro.” This document is perhaps related to another from 1584 (ags 261): “concierto con Mateo Marassi, Fransisco Nibal y Antonio Orsolino italianos oficiales marmoleros, de labrar la obra de canteria de jaspe de la orden corinitia del retablo de la iglesia.”
86 From the contract published in Bustamante, “Las estatuas de bronce (i),” p. 52.
a lack of suitable road infrastructure. Instead, the cases would have to go overland via Flanders and then be carried south to the Escorial, which would be a very time-consuming and labor-intensive process.87 He noted:
just to transport these works in bronze will cost so much that I think it will be a little less than half of the cost of the metal. Because of the way they will be made, their weight, and their size it will
be necessary to make special large carts to them, and they won’t be able to go from Milan to Genoa, because there is no way for carts to travel that way; it will be necessary to take a much longer route.88
Trezzo further argued that sea routes were likewise unreliable and that if the bronze sculptures were made far away, neither the king nor Leoni’s collaborators would be able to see whether they were being made as planned. Trezzo’s arguments are suspicious because there were indeed routes for transport between Genoa and Milan, Genoa was an incredibly active seaport, and it was also well equipped to manage such a shipment. Perhaps Trezzo was not aware of the major improvements in infrastructure that had taken place over the course of the sixteenth century, as trade expanded and as demand for the transport of large goods increased exponentially.
Pompeo Leoni argued, in his turn, that it was necessary to go back to Milan because he could more easily find additional assistants to help with the project in Italy, the materials would be cheaper there. Undoubtedly, he counted on his father’s knowledge and experience in bronze casting, not to mention the possibility of using the facilities at the Casa degli Omenoni, Leone Leoni’s house in the center of Milan, which were replete with bronze-casting equipment. However, Pompeo’s claim that the bronze sculptures could not be made in Spain was exaggerated; large bronzes had, indeed, been cast there and, as we shall see, the later part of this project, which was also in bronze, was executed in Madrid. Nevertheless, as Trezzo predicted, the choice to have the retable figures made in Milan slowed the project down considerably and caused numerous complications.
The argument between Leoni and Trezzo over where the sculptures should be made created a permanent fissure in their relationship. Collaborating over a long distance only exacerbated these tensions, as Trezzo was never convinced Leoni was getting the work done, and Leoni was convinced Trezzo was intentionally giving him bad information or speaking ill of him and his progress at court. Later, in fact, Pompeo accused Jacopo of giving him incorrect measurements for the figures of the Evangelists, and the figures are, in fact, too large for their niches (fig. 2.19). For Trezzo, the inaccurate size of the figures proved his point that such a mistake would not have happened if the bronzes had just been made in Spain.
The work had, in any case, already been begun in Milan ten years earlier, on 3 September 1572, when Leone Leoni had been employed for the project. He had started working on the bronze capitals and bases and had begun preparations for the figure of St. Gregory. The first shipment of architectural pieces was ready to be sent to Genoa on 26 August 1581.89 The piece left Milan in twenty-six cases on 1 and 3 October and arrived in Genoa on 29 October. It was not an easy trip as some of the cases were deemed so heavy that they could not initially be loaded, and it was very difficult to pass through the mountainous areas with such a bulky cargo. Nevertheless, the cases were loaded on ships at Genoa, they made it to Alicante, and they then were sent to the Escorial, where they arrived on 11 April 1582. A second shipment of architectural parts was ready in January 1582. Leone Leoni was very concerned about the packaging of these pieces and stipulated that more money was needed to make sure they would be properly protected. He wanted the twenty-seven cases to be fitted not only with iron closures but also with other iron pieces on the exterior. Also, inside each case, wood pieces were to be inserted between the bronze and the case. He furthermore asked that the cases be bound together by rope.90 The document listing the expenses
fig. 2. 19
Pompeo Leoni, St. Matthew, Escorial retable, San Lorenzo El Escorial. 1579–91 (Patrimonio Nacional 10034765-dg070847)
fig. 2. 20
Pompeo Leoni, St. Jerome, Escorial retable, San Lorenzo El Escorial, 1579–91 (Patrimonio Nacional 10034762-dg070725)
Americas, with enslaved people.3 Enslaving non-Christians was part of a larger strategy of asserting Christian world dominance.
Ports were important sites for capturing slaves from ships near the coast or for bringing slaves in after they were captured on the sea or on land far away. They also were sites where enslaved people were forced into hard labor. Enslaved Muslims and Jews alike met with unconscionable treatment, as Tamar Herzig has revealed in her admirable scholarship. In Italy, Grand Duke Ferdinando I de’ Medici reinforced the governance of Livorno, sending officials to oversee the operations at the port and of the larger city. Bernardetto Buonromei, a physician, was one of these officials, and for his work, the Grand Duke awarded him various benefices and gifts, including an enslaved Muslim. Buonromei
fig. 5. 1
Pietro Tacca and Giovanni Bandini, Ferdinando I and “I Quattro Mori,” 1626, Livorno (Giovanni Dall’Orto, Wikimedia Commons)
oversaw the systematic rape of enslaved Jewish women who had been imprisoned by Muslim men and Catholic forced laborers, in order to punish the Jews of Livorno for not paying a ransom quickly enough.4 Buonromei was left untouched when members of the Jewish community appealed for the Grand Duke’s intervention. He was a key figure in the slave trade at Livorno, as he was the medico fiscale of the state, who set the prices for humans.5 Setting ransom prices and negotiating their payment was a lucrative part of the Medici government’s economy.
Ferdinando I’s successful establishment of slave trade in Livorno was commemorated with a sculpture group by Pietro Tacca, the so-called Quattro Mori (fig. 5.1).6 Here, the Grand Duke stands with one hand on his hip and touching the hilt of his sword; his other hand holds a staff, representing his rulership. The sculpture is made of white marble and stands atop a pedestal made of the same material. Around the pedestal beneath the Grand Duke are four figures in dark bronze, the “Four Moors,” who represent north African slaves. The contrasts between Ferdinando and these men are made abundantly clear: while Ferdinando is fully clothed and standing proudly, the men below him are completely nude, only covered by swaths of drapery, contorted, and bound by chains to the pedestal. Ferdinando is meant to be read as the defender of Christianity, in the context of the belief that the enslavement of Muslims was part of this defense, and the monument simultaneously celebrates the economic advantages for the Medici and their territories of engaging in slave trade.
The presence of this sculpture group at the port also commemorates the slave labor involved in port activities. The number of men needed to work the machines and lift, load, and unload carts and ships was made possible using enslaved people. Moors, likely enslaved, were recorded as working to recover via a diving bell goods lost in a shipwreck, as discussed in Chapter 1. Their lives were put at risk, as they were required to experiment with new devices at ports and at sea.
Prints made after drawings by Cornelis de Wael and published in 1649 further document the use of slave labor at the port of Naples.7 The first and third images (figs. 5.2, 5.4) show enslaved men preparing food or resting. In the second image (fig. 5.3), enslaved men appear to be disembarking from the interior of a ship, while being watched by two armed guards. Based on their appearance and dress, these were Berber slaves. In the left foreground of the fourth image (fig. 5.5), there are two armed men standing beside a standing enslaved person and another who is seated (that they are enslaved is made clear by the shackles on their ankles). Within the right foreground, there is one enslaved man smoking a pipe and one with his back turned to the viewer, facing the activity occurring in the mid-ground: the loading or unloading of a ship. The fifth image (fig. 5.6) contains four enslaved men pulling a ship to shore (one is starting to clean it), while another man directs them from a pier. Behind the man giving directions is another enslaved man, who is rowing a smaller vessel towards the group (or perhaps providing further support for the labor occurring on the pier). Two other men watch from the helm of the ship. These images portray the labor and lives of these enslaved men with a distinctively positive spin, but they nevertheless offer useful visual material for understanding their presence and their roles at the port.
Slave labor was also present in artist and artisan shops.8 In the records of Pompeo Leoni’s Escorial project, described in chapter 2, passing references are made to slaves who were tasked with gathering some of the materials needed, taking the sculpture to be weighed, or other duties. Their names were not recorded beyond brief phrases such as “Francesco schiavo” or “schiavo di Juan Bautista,” but some slaves were eventually freed and then practiced as independent artists. A tantalizing reference is made, however, in the royal cédula issued on 28 December 1581, when Pompeo Leoni was given permission to leave for Milan. This document reads, “and he takes with him a Moorish slave of the
3 Phillips, Slavery in Medieval and Early Modern Iberia, p. 22.
4 Tamar Herzig, “Slavery and Interethnic Sexual Violence: A Multiple Perpetrator Rape in Seventeenth-Century Livorno,” American Historical Review, 127 (2022), 94–122.
5 Tamar Herzig, “Enslavement, Religion, and Cultural Commemoration in Livorno,” Religions, 14 (2023), 607–619, esp. 610; Corey Tazzara, “Port of Trade or Commodity Market?: Livorno and Cross-Cultural Trade in the Early Modern Mediterranean,” Business History Review, 94 (2020), 201–228, esp. 201, n. 18.
6 See Mark Rosen, “Pietro Tacca’s Quattro Mori and the Conditions of Slavery in Early Seicento Tuscany,” The Art Bulletin, 97 (2015), 34–57; Steven Ostrow, “Pietro Tacca and His Quattro Mori: The Beauty and Identity of the Slaves,” Artibus et historiae, 71 (2015), 145–180.
7 M. Schaep, Vistas del puerto de Nápoles, 1649, Biblioteca Nacional de España, inv. nos. 46326–46330.
8 On the varieties of labor roles required of enslaved people on the Iberian Peninsula, see Phillips, Slavery in Medieval and Early Modern Iberia, pp. 103–205. On enslaved labor in the workshops of artists, see Luis Méndez Rodríguez, “Enslaved Artisanal Labor in Seventeenth-Century Spain,” in Juan de Pareja: Afro-Hispanic Painter, ed. by David Pullins and Vanessa Valdés (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2023), pp. 31–40.
figs. 5. 2–5.6
Vistas del Puerto de Nápoles con Esclavos, bnm, 46326, 4632, 46326, 46328, 46329, 46330, (Imágenes procedentes de los fondos de la Biblioteca Nacional de España)
kingdom of Granada who is a sculptor.”9 Another artist who was or had been enslaved was Juan de Pareja, Velázquez’s slave; he learned to paint in the workshop, was freed, and then practiced as a painter.10 No doubt, there are many more such examples that bear further investigation.
To carry out the sculpture commissions they received, artists employed large teams of assistants, from those who helped with the design and execution to those who participated in the packing and loading on carts. Patrons who sought works from Italy often employed someone on site to oversee the project, and then a host of people and animals to transport the shipment once the cases arrived on Iberian shores. Sometimes those hired to carry the cases by cart had their own team of workers who would help with repairing the cart, caring for the animals, or repairing or widening roads for safe passage. There was a whole network of men organized to expedite shipping between Italy and Spain; expatriates, especially Genoese, in Spain worked with artists, suppliers, and agents in Italy, or bought objects that were already made to then sell on the Spanish market. Government officials were employed to manage the passports, customs fees, and other taxes at ports and interior borders. Insurance companies arose and helped provide some security against losses. Roads, rivers, and ports were equipped with new infrastructure to facilitate the transport of objects; these improvements required yet another group of laborers. Other laborers included shipbuilders, construction workers at the ports, inventors and makers of the equipment needed to move heavy objects, and men who made cases and carts, to name just a few. In sum, shipping luxury goods from Italy to Spain, especially sculptures and other heavy or bulky objects (including large animals!), demanded both specialized and non-specialized labor, inspired entrepreneurs, and was an economic engine because of the labor and income it generated.
For state gifts, senders tried to minimize shipping costs, while also impressing the recipient. Sometimes, new work was commissioned from artists whom the sender trusted to understand Spanish taste and requirements, and sometimes, pre-existing work that seemed to fit the bill was sent instead to expedite the delivery of the gift and save the time and cost necessary for making something new. However, when new work was created, especially if it was in marble, adjustments to the composition and form could be made to help the sculpture fare better during shipment and to reduce the risk of breakage. Cristoforo Stati’s Samson (fig. 3.16), Francesco Camilliani’s Andromeda (fig. 3.14), or Taddeo Carlone’s kneeling figures of Calderón and his wife (fig. 2.9), would be much more durable with their self-enclosed, compact forms than would a figure with protruding limbs or other elements that stretched out from the core. This concern for durability likely impacted the stylistic and compositional choices the artists made. However, such choices were not always well received. The Tuscan ambassador recounted that some viewers found Stati’s Samson disappointing, particularly compared to the sculpture sent before it, Giambologna’s dynamic composition of Samson and the Philistine (fig.3.15). Bronzes alleviated these issues; the durability of the material safeguarded against breakage, and while the material was costly, shipping bronze was much less expensive than shipping marble. As a result, bronzes, especially statuettes, were sent in enormous numbers (there are thousands in the extant inventories from this period) to aristocratic and non-noble collectors; marble sculptures and very large bronze works required greater financial means to acquire and ship, and thus usually were found only in collections of the highest-ranking elites.
The hidden costs of making and transporting sculptures were both economic and human. The case studies here seek to bring such costs to light. Artists and patrons had to be mindful of transport mechanisms and risks from the very beginning of a project. The costs of the shipment could easily outstrip the price of materials or the cost of the artist’s labor. Despite the costs and complexities, the desire for Italian sculpture was so intense
9 Rosemarie Mulcahy, The Decoration of the Royal Basilica of El Escorial (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), p. 169.
10 Juan de Pareja was the subject of a recent exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York: Juan de Pareja, AfroHispanic Painter, 3 April-16 July 2023, with an accompanying exhibition catalogue of the same title.
that patrons and collectors found obtaining these works worthwhile. Correspondingly, the quantity of sculptures shipped from Italy to Spain grew exponentially from the late fifteenth century, when some tombs and architectural adornments were occasionally sent, to the end of the seventeenth century, when thousands of sculptures were sent to decorate the growing number of lavish palaces and gardens across the country. Technologies improved, labor became more specialized, and better infrastructure was put in place to make frequent and large shipments possible. Possession of Italian sculptures (and sculptures and other objects from other foreign lands) signaled the owner’s status and means. Those who knew what was involved in obtaining these works there would have been suitably impressed by them.
Today, when we see sculptures like Philip III’s equestrian monument in the Plaza Mayor or Cristoforo Stati’s Samson in the Art Institute of Chicago, we may not think about how they got there. Art historians have rarely considered such practical matters as being a part of the histories of these objects that is worthy of investigation. However, keeping the practicalities hidden obscures the full history of an object and hinders our understanding of artistic practice, patronage, artistic exchange, and other labor and economic systems that allowed sculptors in the early modern period to disseminate their work.
