THE GREEK AND GOTHIC REVIVALS
IN EUROPE 1750–1850
Edited by Agata Kubala and Romuald Kaczmarek
The Greek and Gothic Revivals in Europe 1750 –1850
Edited by Romuald Kaczmarek and Agata Kubala
Architectural Crossroads Studies in the History of Architecture
volume 12
Series Editor
Lex Bosman, Universiteit van Amsterdam
Editorial Board
Carola Jäggi, Universität Zürich
Dale Kinney, Bryn Mawr College
Hans-Rudolf Meier, Bauhaus-Universität Weimar
Wolfgang Schenkluhn, Martin-Luther-Universität Halle
Marvin Trachtenberg, New York University
Publication co-financed by the Polish state budget under the program of the Minister of Science and Higher Education called ‘Excellent Science’, project number dnk / sp /548541/2022, co-financing amount pln 46,312.67, total project value pln 66,313.71.
© 2024, Brepols Publishers nv, Turnhout, Belgium
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is B n 978-2-503-61403-8
e - is B n 978-2-503-61404-5
doi 10.1484/M. acsha- e B .5.141892
issn 2466-5932
e - issn 2736-6863
d /2024/0095/253
Designed by Paul van Calster
Printed in the EU on acid-free paper
Foreword 7
Klaus Niehr
Without Dividing Lines: Greek, Roman and Gothic Revivals 9
Maria Nit K a
The Ittar Family: An Example of the Internationality of the Greek Revival 25
Christi N a Clause N
Pictorial Imagination of the Gothic Revival: Architectural History of the Middle Ages in Paintings by Schinkel, Ahlborn and Hasenpflug 38
i re N e ( r e N a ) Fatsea
‘Romantic Classicism’ as a Critical Key to Modernity Contrasting Receptions of Greek Architecture in a Transnational Context 53
t hodoris Koutsogia NN is Greek Revival Architecture in Greece: A National Style as Repatriation 65
a rvid h a N s M a NN
Ein dezenter Klassizist und ein pragmatischer Romantiker. Die Sakralbauten von F. W. Dunckelberg (1773–1844) und F. W. Buttel (1796–1869) im einstigen (Groß-)Herzogtum Mecklenburg-Strelitz 82
r o M uald Ka C z M are K Neugotik in Schlesien um 1800. Rundblick und Forschungslage 93
h ei N er Krellig
Greek, Egyptian and Venetian Medieval Monuments in the Lost Garden of ‘Alticchiero’ on the Banks of the River Brenta, near Padova 109
s tepha N l eh M a NN
Der Schlossumbau in Erbach und die Anlage des Englischen Gartens Eulbach (Odenwald) als frühe Zeugnisse des romantischen Historismus 127
u rszula Boń C zu K - d awidziu K
Die Inspirationsquellen für die Wiederbelebung der griechischen Antike und der Gotik in der Gartenarchitektur des Landschaftsparks in Buchwald 143
a gata Ku B ala
‘We are all Greeks’: The von Hoym Family Mausoleum in Brzeg Dolny (Lower Silesia) in the Context of the European Hellenomania 156
Jerzy Krzyszto F Kos
Landhaus in Rosenthal (Mirosławice). Antike und Politik in der preußischen Architektur um 1800 169
r uurd Bi NN ert h al B erts M a Dark Masses versus Excellent Proportions: A Classicist’s View of Gothic and Classical Architecture 177
s usa NN e Mers M a NN
Gothic and Greek Art in a Globalized Scheme by Viollet-le-Duc in His Instructions for the Musées du Trocadéro in Paris 185
a the N a s . l eoussi
Modern Renaissances: Reconciling the Greek Revival with the Gothic Revival, Athens with Jerusalem, in Nineteenth-Century European Culture and Art 195
Photographic Credits 217
The Almudena cathedral in Madrid, begun in 1883 and only completed in 1993, displays a classicistic exterior and neoGothic forms inside.42 The nineteenth-century church of St Lambert in Oldenburg also combines the Middle Ages with antiquity, but the other way round: the exterior is based on Gothic buildings, whereas the two-storeyed interior is shaped like an ancient circular temple with a cupola.
The examples of revivals seen up to now feature a mixed costume providing opportunities to discern the individual elements of historical art and new design. However, there are many more possibilities for integrating old features into a building. From about 1814, people were considering ways to complete the cathedral of Cologne, and this was sponsored by the Prussian state. Karl Friedrich Schinkel was commissioned to develop ideas about how to finish the giant Gothic church at a reasonable price. Schinkel’s plans take this directive seriously by omitting flying buttresses and pitched roofs. This would not only have been inexpensive but also satisfied the wishes of the classicist architect. His idea of a building was that of a work of art without any superfluous elements, and he felt that Gothic architecture had to be submitted to a demand like this in order for it to become an architecture of high quality.
Schinkel’s ideal of such an architecture can be seen in unrealised projects as well as some which have survived to this day. The most prominent of the early designs of this kind is the so-called ‘Denkmaldom’ of 1814/15.43 The edifice consists of three clearly separated parts: the steeple, the nave and the circular hall with its dome. Ornamental elements are like accessories only impermanently attached to the body of the building, as if they could be removed. And this is really typical around 1800: the body of the building and its ornamentation seem to be independent. The principles of such an art and its realisation can be seen at the little church of Paretz near Potsdam (Fig. 12). David Gilly, a Prussian architect of King Friedrich Wilhelm III, designed this church and other buildings in the village near the country seat of the sovereign and his wife, Queen Luise . 44 Its Gothic shape consists of simple elements applied to the unpretentious edifice, yielding an ‘out-sideGothic’ that is very easy to understand and is also added to other buildings in the neighbourhood.
A few years later, in the 1820s, Schinkel used his Friedrichswerder Church to develop another system for separating the structure of a building from its style, dependent upon its ornamentation. And, in so doing, he offered a way to systematically utilise the history of architecture. Four different languages provide their special aesthetics: a Greek, a Roman, a Romanesque and a Gothic costume are applied to the same body and to the same space consisting of a nave with a series of vaults.45
8
A Gothic church built in a modern manner with the spirit of classicistic theory in the background is one of the most familiar qualities of European architecture shortly after 1800. And it would have a long history over the following decades. This idea can already be found in Christian Ludwig Stieglitz’s drawings of his church commemorating the ‘Wars of Liberation’ of 1813/14, whose façade is dominated by clear and regular proportions. It was even present on Germany’s most famous edifice during the second half of the nineteenth century. Work on Cologne cathedral began in 1842. The façades of the transepts and the walls of the nave had nearly been completed by 1855. Because there were no medieval visual sources for these parts of the church, chief architect Ernst Friedrich Zwirner had to find a new Gothic design. In the southern transept this design displays a very clear layout: its horizontal and vertical lines balance one another. Pediments and ornaments never disrupt this balance. The spirit of classicism reigns in neo-Gothic art.
Perhaps this becomes more evident when looking at the interior wall featuring two storeys of sculptures: saints in the lower part, and angels in the upper part.46 Completed in about 1848, the framed panel displays very rigid divisions and absolute regularity. The whole panel is split into two halves and consists of four parts, each of which houses three sculptures. However, the borders inside these parts are understated, so the complete structure is seen as an entirety without disruptive lines (Fig. 13). A sketch from 1844 shows the same panel within a quite different structure: enormous canopies above the sculptures of saints make the layout more ‘Gothic’ but, at the same time, they make a less harmonious visual impression.
From Gothic to classicism: this may describe the underlying history behind that wall in the southern transept of Cologne cathedral. However, although there are more examples displaying similar solutions calming the exaggerations of the Gothic, it is difficult to prove whether this narrative about a historical development is true: the conclusion of the art historical perspective and the reality may differ. As we do not know for sure that this perspective is correct, we have to be cautious about the history we have invented.
Still, how are we to insert this complex history and the different trends in using and merging former styles into a system of the arts? How are we to separate individual modes of reception and develop a map of ideas focusing on the interplay of styles? This seems to be impossible, because there are no definite boundaries for drawing clear dividing lines between the individual impacts of Greek or Gothic in the architecture of the early, or more recent, modern period. A look at Orléans cathedral, which was destroyed during the religious wars of the 16th century and rebuilt from 1601, sheds light on these difficulties. Its façade, under construction since 1739, was not completed until 1829 (Fig. 14).47 Here, the intention was to create a Gothic work of art, but how much Gothic is to be seen? Guillaume Hénault’s and Robert de Cotte’s original designs for this project from 1708 show their efforts to think in a Gothic manner. The constructed building, after its many modifications, has hardly anything to do with medieval architecture. This Gothic is based solely on external signs, such as pointed arches or rose windows, and it lacks the fundamental principles of the historical style imitated here.
At Orléans and Cologne we become aware of a change in the understanding of historical architecture: the vocabulary may be Gothic, but the grammar is not. Later, in the 19th century, this kind of interpretation of
medieval architecture would completely disappear. With the new-found assurance of knowing the arts through academic research came a sense of entitlement to destroy earlier attempts to come to terms with or perfect the Gothic style. This is the case with those buildings where ancient and medieval art take the place of one another. At Metz cathedral, for instance, Jean-François Blondel’s classicistic
Pictorial Imagination of the Gothic Revival
Architectural History of the Middle Ages in Paintings
by Schinkel, Ahlborn
and Hasenpflug*
In the course of his first trip to Italy between 1827 and 1831, August Wilhelm Julius Ahlborn painted the large-format oil painting The Heyday of the Middle Ages (Die Blütezeit des Mittelalters) (Fig. 1). It depicts an Italian cityscape from the Middle Ages, which towers up, mountainlike, in the middle of the picture, crowned by a Gothic dome. The pictorial space can be divided into four successive zones. In the foreground the entrance to a place of pilgrimage
is visible. In addition to a few monks dressed in white, the scene is populated with arriving pilgrims who are being served food and drinks. A polychrome figure of the Madonna is placed under a tabernacle above a wall with a Romanesque arched frieze. At the right edge of the painting is the entrance to a rock monastery, similar to what Ahlborn had encountered in Naples, on the Amalfi Coast, shortly before completion of the painting.1 The
charitably engaged, working and reading monks, as well as the solid walls, which may have been hewn into the rock, and the clear spring in the foreground, could be interpreted symbolically, in reference to Ahlborn’s idea of medieval religiosity.2 At that time he was already intensely occupied with questions of faith and Catholic rituals, which the Hanover-born artist followed with growing interest in Italy, until he finally converted to the Catholic faith in 1838.
The second zone of the image, visible behind dark green, lush vegetation, shows a river spanned by a small stone bridge. A boat appears to be heading for the shore. Many people have gathered in an open area in front of the city gate, possibly preparing for a celebration. Ahlborn enthusiastically described various city festivals that he witnessed during his first trip to Italy, and which undoubtedly served as inspiration for this area of the painting.3
Behind it towers the great city, fortified with a massive crenellated wall. Numerous church buildings, city palaces and residential buildings can be made out in this third zone of the image. Together they form a typological overview of medieval architecture in Italy, topped by a Gothic dome. The cityscape stands out clearly against the pale blue and yellow morning sky. A band of clouds wraps around the dome with a theatrical swing, seeming to roll from back to front. This reinforces the compositional emphasis of the Gothic cathedral, which represents the thematic and aesthetic centre of the image. The sky, which merges into a hilly background landscape on the horizon, forms the fourth zone of the painting.
The area of the towering cityscape can be examined as a picturesque representation of architectural history by analysing historical models and their transformation into invented stylistic ideals on the one hand, and in terms of Ahlborn’s composition of an imaginary space on the other, on the basis of which architectural historiographical narratives become visible.
As probably the oldest monument in the depicted city, what appears to be a Roman aqueduct in the right half of the image refers to Italy’s ancient architectural heritage. Ahlborn did, however, borrow aspects from the medieval aqueduct of Spoleto, which surpassed in height even the ancient water pipes, at about 76 metres. By means of a double row of narrow arches, Ahlborn presents the gigantic dimensions of the structure as well as a formal association with Gothic verticality. The direct proximity of a fortified hilltop castle next to the aqueduct also refers to the model in Spoleto, where the medieval fortress of Rocca Albornoziana occupies a similar position.4 The castle complex is supplemented by towers of different heights
to form a scenic ensemble and is crowned by battlements throughout.
Ahlborn travelled to Umbria and Marche immediately before he began painting The Heyday of the Middle Ages. He processed the impressions he collected in Perugia, Assisi, Gubbio, Urbino, Ancona and Loreto in numerous landscape and architectural studies, which he used as the basis for the composition of his painting.5 In addition to various individual studies of architecture, he also oriented himself toward central Italian models in the overall layout of the
city on a hill surrounded by a flat plain. Unfortunately, the extensive material consisting of sketches and drawings can no longer be found today and may have been lost, but the transformation of historical models can be traced using individual buildings depicted within the invented urban space. Borrowings from Umbria can be seen, for example, in a Romanesque church with a campanile, which, in addition to Assisi and Perugia, also evokes examples from Spoleto (Fig. 2). From here, one’s gaze moves further to the right, towards a spacious square with a fountain, which appears to form an urban centre; a cubic structure emerges, with dominating wall surfaces broken only by small Gothic windows. The vicinity of the fountain and the basic form of the building are reminiscent of the Palazzo dei Priori in Perugia. In the sculptural design of the façades, however, it deviates from this model and – for example, in the darker colouring and the arrangement of the windows – seems to come nearer to the Florentine Palazzo Vecchio as another prototype for the official seat of a municipal government in the Italian Middle Ages. Similarly, Ahlborn transforms Urbino’s façade of the Palazzo Ducale directly above it, which is clearly referenced by the two flanking round
towers, with the spires omitted. Possibly, Ahlborn held that the façade was essentially a medieval invention, which was then redesigned in the fifteenth century. Following the urban landscape in a serpentine fashion further up and to the left, a domed church combining the Pisa Baptistery of St. John and analogies of the Byzantine churches in Veneto calls attention to itself, the façade reminiscent of the Basilica di Sant’Antonio in Padua. These pictorial inventions presuppose an in-depth examination of Italian building history and have parallels with architectural practice in the form of the historicistically-oriented design of the time. The various models are not simply juxtaposed as literal citations, but synthesised and placed in a new order. Looking at the painting invites the viewer to take a look down paths through the city, which suggests a certain sequence of buildings. The path through the fortified city gate to the Romanesque church, the square with the Gothic palazzo of the municipality building, the Palazzo Ducale above it and the domed church trace not only different layers in time of the Italian Middle Ages, but also a building typology.
Looking further upwards, this development finally culminates in a cupola, which does, however, appear less Italian, and probably refers back to a more timeless architectural ideal. That the top of the urban landscape is not occupied by a mundane but by a sacred building is also due to Ahlborn’s religious convictions. However, it is
the concrete architectural form into which he translates this that should be analysed more closely and classified in terms of the history of ideas.
At this point, Ahlborn opted for a Gothic dome. This design combines the monumentality of an antique dome with filigree Gothic elements, but this is rarely found in the Middle Ages and rather stems from the neo-Gothic imagination of the nineteenth century. Here Ahlborn does, however, have a prominent model in Karl Friedrich Schinkel’s Memorial Cathedral (Denkmalsdom) from 1815 (Fig. 3).6 On the occasion of the Wars of Liberation (die Befreiungskriege), Schinkel designed this synthesis of a central and longitudinal building, an antique podium and Gothic architectural decorations, the Florentine cathedral, the Baptistery in Pisa and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. The design that Schinkel wanted to realise at Leipziger Platz in Berlin was probably not carried out for economic reasons, as well as political reservations. Contrary to the still widespread notion that the reception of the Middle Ages, or medievalism, in the nineteenth century arose from restorative efforts and corresponded to a Biedermeier understanding of history, between 1815 and 1848 the rediscovery of the Middle Ages was also associated with aspirations for unity and constitutional desires. For example, the bourgeois ideal of the imperial city was an important reference for the medieval cityscapes invented by the architectural painters
plan of the university.42 Having studied architecture in Paris, he had as prototypes the early French neoclassical compositions. Regrettably, the project for the university was cancelled. The other Greek architect active in Corfu, Ioannis Chronis (1800–79),43 with studies in Venice and Rome, constructed two important public buildings, the Ionian Bank (ca. 1845) and the Ionian Parliament (1854–5). However, neither of them can be characterized as representative of the pure neoclassical architecture, even less so of the Greek Revival style.
In consequence, the introduction of Neoclassical and specifically Greek Revival architecture on the Ionian Islands, in the first half of the nineteenth century, stands for nothing more than an episode limited to the period of British rule.
Hermoupolis
The case of Hermoupolis is unique. On the island of Syros, in the central Cyclades, a totally new city was founded during the Greek War of Independence (1821–30), in order to accommodate the refugees from various Greek regions, mainly from the Aegean islands and cities in Asia Minor. This is how the city of Hermoupolis (i.e. the city of the god Hermes) was created in the 1820s. It became the centre, both financial and cultural, of the Aegean, flourishing during the nineteenth century. Its prosperity is reflected in the numerous stately buildings in the neoclassical style, which make Hermoupolis stand out as a distinct case study of Neoclassicism in Greece.44
The most monumental example of neoclassical architecture in Hermoupolis is the town hall45 (Fig. 10), designed by the German-born Ernst Ziller (1837–1923), the most prolific architect of the late phase of Greek Neoclassicism. The town hall, built between 1876 and 1898, dominates the centre of Hermoupolis. Here, Ziller combines perfectly the Greek Doric and Ionic order at the imposing entrance, mixing, however, in the architecture of the building complex various other elements, such as neo-Renaissance, hence it cannot be classified as a pure example of the Greek Revival style.
Two interesting public buildings were designed earlier, in the 1860s, by the Italian architect Pietro Sampo: the Apollo lyric theatre (1862–4),46 which is considered to be a miniature version of the famous La Scala in Milan, and the cultural club ‘Hellas’ (1862–3).47 Of neoclassical texture, in general terms, both of them have a strongly eclectic character; so in these cases, too, we have to deal with buildings of classicist, not purely classic, character.
But already, before the middle of the nineteenth century, in 1849, the Greek military architect Gerasimos Metaxas (1816–90) designed the church of Saint Nicholas,48 which was completed much later, in 1870, under the supervision of various architects. This church is an appealing example of neoclassical composition, with references to French Neoclassicism. Especially the entrance, with its Ionic order copied from the Erechtheion, can be associated, on some level, with the Greek Revival movement.
In general, at Hermoupolis, a newly founded city, on an island without ancient monuments, the imported Neoclassicism shows but a weak relationship to the genuine ancient Greek models; so, these buildings are products of overall classicist aesthetics, but cannot be characterized as Greek Revival.
Athens
In contrast, in Athens, the relationship between neoclassical buildings and ancient monuments became an inescapable rule.49 Greece’s classical heritage contributed significantly to the positive outcome of the Greek War of Independence. The ancient ‘mantle’ that wrapped postclassical Greece in the visual culture of the West played a decisive role in the country’s liberation, through the phenomenon of Philhellenism.50
In the case of Athens, in particular, its own ancient monuments promoted the city’s historical restoration.51 Indeed, if buildings as far away as London and Edinburgh,
Berlin and Munich, New York, Boston and Philadelphia were erected in the Greek Revival style, new buildings in Athens could not fail to draw upon the magnificent local archetypical monuments.
Ottoman Athens was a small walled city under the Acropolis, while on the Acropolis hill itself there was a second little city reserved only for the Ottomans. Of course, the ancient marble buildings at the top of the hill bore witness to the historical past. The city’s classical heritage, invariably reviving at the sight of the classical temples and the Parthenon itself as symbols of freedom and democracy, dictated, on an ideological level, the proclamation of Athens in 1834 as the capital of the liberated Greek state.
One of the priorities in the new capital was the erection of a palace for the young Bavarian King Otto. The proposed designs advocated visual contact with the Acropolis.52 One such proposal was submitted by Leo von Klenze, i.e. the main creator of the Greek Revival in Munich. Much more daring were the plans drawn by the Prussian Karl Friedrich Schinkel (1781–1841), who suggested constructing the palace nowhere else but on the Acropolis itself, among the ancient monuments. This thought alone, be it provocation or a dreamlike fantasy, indicates that classicism was destined to prevail in the public, institutional architecture of the new capital.
The royal palace (Fig. 11), designed by Friedrich von Gärtner in 1836, ultimately took the form of a robust, austere building with three storeys 53 It is essentially the biggest neoclassical building erected in Greece, funded by the Bavarian king Ludwig for his son Otto. Its most interesting aspect is the use of the Doric (outside) and the Ionic (inside) order copied exactly from the Parthenon and the Erechtheion, respectively. Special emphasis is put on the portico of the main entrance, which imitates the Doric order of the Parthenon (Fig. 1), facing, moreover, towards it, achieving, in this way, the desired correlation with the ancient grandeur and its ideological content.
Hence, the Royal Palace deserves to be considered as a pure example of so-called Greek Revival architecture. Not overlooking, of course, the fact that the architect was a Bavarian, we can still characterize as repatriation this importation of the Greek Revival in Greece, especially in Athens, with the use of specifically Athenian monuments as models
Correspondingly, in the building that originally housed the Greek Parliament (now: National Historical Museum), the French architect François Boulanger (1807–75)54 adopted the Ionic order (Fig. 12), especially at the entrances (both main and back), copying accurately the entrance of the Erechtheion.
90 Rinck, ‘Alte Denkmale in Venedig’, p. 247: ‘Die Frau Rosenberg, [p. 46] hält den Coloß für ein Bild des Nils’ and: ‘Man nennt gewöhnlich den Schlüssel in der Hand egyptischer Gottheiten irrig Nilschlüssel, und gibt sich Mühe, den Göttern, welche nichts bey dem Gewässer zu thun haben, eine erkünstelte Beziehung auf den Nil herauszufinden. Schlüssel bedeuten aber nichts anderes als Macht und Gewalt, […].’
91 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, § xxix , pp. 55–6, plates xxiv and xxv .
92 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, p. 62, plates xxvii and xxviii The sculptures are not described in the first edition of the book, and therefore, according to the assumption of Catucci, Il giardino della ragione, p. 132, based on an indication of the ‘Avantpropos’ by Benincasa in Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, and Anonymous (s. d.), p. 130, they must have been acquired by Querini between 1782 and 1787.
93 Lanzi, Viaggio nel Veneto, pp. 95–6.
94 Frida Schottmüller, Die italienischen und spanischen Bildwerke der Renaissance und des Barock, 1: Die Bildwerke in Stein, Holz, Ton und Wachs (Berlin, 1933), 116, n. 221 and 118–19, n. 218 as ‘Art des Pietro Lombardi’ and ‘Der Meister von Altichiero’, in the Museum, also as attributed to Giovanni di Antonio Buora; recently Krahn, Von Italien nach Preußen, pp. 149–51 has been able to bring more clarity regarding the iter of acquisition for the museum around 1838. I thank Volker Krahn for indicating his publication to me.
95 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, pp. 60–2, plate xxvi
96 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, p. 62.
97 Lanzi, Viaggio nel Veneto, pp. 95–6.
98 Ericani, Una donna, un senatore, p. 181.
99 At the time of the acquisition described as the sculpture of a Roman Emperor, see Krahn, Von Italien nach Preußen, p. 150.
100 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, p. 55.
101 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, pp. 55–6 and the note, plate xxv
102 For the Peace of Venice, 1177, see Maria Francesca Tiepolo, ‘Presentazione’, in Mostra documentaria: 1177 Pace di Venezia. Storia, leggenda e mito. Appunti per un catalogo, Ministero per i beni culturali e ambientali. Archivio di Stato di Venezia/ Comune di Venezia, eds. (Venice, 1977); Klaus Schreiner, ‘Vom geschichtlichen Ereignis zum historischen Exempel. Eine denkwürdige Begegnung zwischen Kaiser Friedrich Barbarossa und Papst Alexander III in Venedig und ihre Folgen in Geschichtsschreibung, Literatur und Kunst’, in Mittelalterrezeption, ed. by Peter Wapnewski (Stuttgart, 1986), pp. 145–76, Wolfgang Augustyn, ‘Wie man Geschichte erfindet. Der Friede von Venedig (1177) im Bild – Realität und politische Projektion’, in Visualisieren – Ordnen – Aktualisieren. Geschichtskonzepte des Mittelalters und der Frühen Neuzeit im Bild, ed. by Wolfgang Augustyn and Andrea Worm (Passau, 2020), pp. 330–8, 350–9; for the marriage: Lina Padoan Urban, ‘La festa della Sensa nelle arti e nell’iconografia’, Studi veneziani 10 (1968–9), pp. 291–353.
103 Note by Benincasa in: Wynne RosenbergOrsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, pp. 77–9.
104 Ericani, ‘La storia e l’utopia nel giardino’, p. 180 speaks about the Venetian tradition, ‘luogo della democrazia di Baiamonte Tiepolo’, and Favaretto, Arte antica e cultura antiquaria, p. 242 believes him ‘morto per difendere il sogno di una Venezia democratica’.
105 Paolo Preto, ‘Il giudizio della storia’, in La congiura imperfetta di Baiamonte Tiepolo, ed. by Nelli-Elena Vanzan Marchini, (Sommacampagna, 2011), pp. 119–26.
106 For the object itself, see Amalia Donatella Basso, ‘I segni di Baiamonte Tiepolo’, in La congiura imperfetta, pp. 64–9.
107 As it became partly illegible over time, there was some discussion about the exact formulation, see Basso, ‘I segni di Baiamonte Tiepolo’, pp. 65–6; the column itself is now in the property of the Fondazione Musei Civici, Venice; after leaving it to the museum, a copy was made for the garden of villa Melzi d’Eril, where there is still the original base made for its erection at Altichiero.
108 Petronio Maria Canali, Storia aneddota del busto erma del doge Renier opera di Canova (Venezia, 1840) (Estr. dagli Atti dell’Ateneo veneto, vol. 3., p. 233); Brunelli,
‘Un senatore veneziano’, pp. 9–10; Haskel, Patrons and Painters, pp. 371–2; Catucci, Il giardino della ragione, pp. 181–3, and nn. 308, 349.
109 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, § xxviii , pp. 53–4, plate xxiii ; if not one of the ‘Plusieur autres objets [which] pourroient encore entretenir ce ton ligubre & rêveur […]’ (Wynne Rosenberg (1782), 88), also this sculpture must have been commissioned between the first and second editions of the book; the monument, if not poetically embellishing its description, was seen by Joseph von Hammer-Purgstall in 1798, Zeichnungen auf einer Reise von Wien über Triest nach Venedig (Berlin 18212 (First edition: 1800)), pp. 257–8 already in a state of decay.
110 Wynne Rosenberg-Orsini, Alticchiero. Par Mad.e, p. 54: ‘un assemblage de véritables ruines de toute espece’.
111 Rinck, Alte Denkmale in Venedig, p. 247.
112 [Girolamo Ascanio Giustinian]: Pensieri d’un cittadino sul fiume Brenta, (Padua, 1786); see also: Catucci, Il giardino della ragione, p. 244.
113 Giovanni Grevembroch, Monumenta Veneta ex antiquis ruderibus Templorum, aliarumq. Ædium Vetustate collapsarum collecta. Studio, ed. by Pietro Gradenigo, 1754–9 [3 vol.], Venezia, Biblioteca del Museo Correr (BM c ), Archivio GradenigoDolfin, n. 228.
114 There have been various restorations since Briati, and his follower, Giacomo Giandolin Briati, have rented the palace, the last, including façades and roofs, documented in 1786–7, Museo Correr, Mss. p.d., 2044, esp. 4, 6 and 7; Alberto Rizzi, Scultura esterna a Venezia. Corpus delle sculture erratiche all’aperto di Venezia e della sua laguna (Venezia, 1987), pp. 489–91, nos 232 and 233.
115 Rizzi, Scultura esterna a Venezia, pp. 586–8, n. 56.
116 I do not see a part of his personal attitude in collecting, as Pomian, ‘Collezionisti d’arte e di curiosità naturali’, 67 did, any reason to construct a contrast between him and Correr, but rather different faces and views in the same tendency.
Der Schlossumbau in Erbach und die Anlage des Englischen Gartens Eulbach (Odenwald) als frühe Zeugnisse des romantischen Historismus
Etwa eineinhalb Stunden Fahrzeit von Frankfurt am Main wie auch von Heidelberg entfernt, liegt inmitten des Odenwalds das kleine Städtchen Erbach mit seinem malerischen Schloss, das der breiten Öffentlichkeit weithin unbekannt ist (Abb. 1).1 Zwar kennen klassische Archäologen die dortige Sammlung antiker Porträts und Vasen, vor allem das berühmte Marmorbildnis des „Alexander Erbach“, während Mittelalterhistorikern das Schloss wegen der bedeutenden Sammlungen mittelalterlicher Waffen und Harnische sowie bemalter Glasfenster ein Begriff ist.2 Doch
Zum 200. Todestag Graf Franz I. zu Erbach-Erbach (1754–1823)
das betrifft jeweils nur einen kleinen Kreis von Experten.3 Größeres Interesse fand bislang die Person des Grafen Franz I. zu Erbach-Erbach (*29.10.1754 in Erbach; †8.3.1823 ebenda) als Sammler und Gelehrter, und zwar sowohl in Verbindung mit dem Schloss Erbach und seinen Sammlungen4 als auch mit dem Englischen Park Eulbach5 samt seinen Bauten und Ruinen (Abb. 2).6 Was aber die umfangreichen Sammlungen im Schloss Erbach angeht, harren diese trotz einzelner Beiträge zu bestimmten Objekten in ihrer Gesamtheit einer systematischen Publikation.7 Dies ist
This book combines the Greek and Gothic Revival phenomena in the period between 1750 and 1850, showing the common cultural background of these artistic trends referring to the past. It presents examples from almost all over Europe. In addition to the introductory text problematizing the idea, there are studies of more detailed issues –topographic shots presenting the aforementioned phenomena within artistic regions, presentations of projects undertaken by outstanding personalities of the era, as well as analyses of individual assumptions or works.
romuald kaczmarek is an art historian and an Associate Professor in the Institute of Art History at the University of Wrocław.
agata kubala is a classical archaeologist and an Associate Professor in the Institute of Art History at the University of Wrocław.