Sienese Painting: ‘One Must Worship Him and Not This Wood’

Lando di Pietro, Head of Christ (Fragment of a Crucifix) (1338). Detail from Photo by Ben Davis.

I recently visited an excellent exhibition that gathers the work of four artists working in Siena in the first half of the 14th century. (‘Siena: The Rise of Painting, 1300-1350’ is at the National Gallery, London until 22 June.)

With tender expressions, intimate gestures and garments of glistening gold, Sienese painters humanised the bible stories and introduced visual storytelling to Western art. Duccio, Simone Martini and the brothers Pietro and Ambrogio Lorenzetti opened the doors to the Renaissance.

By the late 1200s Siena was thriving. Situated on the pilgrimage route between Canterbury and Rome, it was on the Silk Road and one of Europe’s first banking centres. Ruled by ‘the Nine,’ a council of officials elected every two months, it also benefitted from stable government.

In 1260, at the battle of Montaperti, a smaller Sienese army defeated that of its neighbour and rival Florence. Since the Virgin Mary was thought to have intervened on Siena’s behalf, a number of public buildings were duly built in her honour, including the striped marble cathedral, the hospital and the town hall. Siena became known as ‘The Virgin City.’


Duccio ‘The Annunciation’ 1307/8-11. Egg tempera on wood. Nationa Gallery

At the exhibition Sienese devotion to the Virgin is evident in grand altarpieces, narrative cycles and intimate objects for private contemplation. Mary shudders when she learns of her destiny from the Angel Gabriel. She holds her newborn baby to her cheek as it reaches for her veil. She is distraught on discovering her youthful, defiant son teaching in the temple. She faints at the foot of the cross as blood trickles from Christ’s wounds. She helps to lower his dead body and clasps his corpse in its tomb. She regards us with benign grace.

Dressed in shimmering silk and cloth of gold, bishops, angels, soldiers, saints and sinners act out their own dramas amid rocky landscapes and pink-walled towns. They have sculptural solidity and psychological intensity. They move and gesticulate. They show emotion. 

Everywhere we see examples of exquisite craftmanship. Sometimes the artists painted marble to suggest Christ’s tomb or the rock of the Church. Sometimes they employed sgraffito, a technique by which a top layer of paint is scratched away to reveal gold underneath. Textiles from far and wide are delicately reproduced.

Simone Martini ‘Madonna and Child’ ca. 1326

I was quite taken with a fragmented polychrome head from a crucifix made by Lando di Pietro. Once located on the church altar, the crucifix was split into pieces by Allied bombing in 1944. Inside the broken sculpture’s head, restorers found a parchment containing a prayer, the author's name and the date. The script concludes:

‘In the year of Our Lord 1337 was completed this figure in the likeness of the crucified Jesus Christ, living and true Son of God. And one must worship him and not this wood.’ 

Lando’s insistence that, though he was proud of his work, his artistry derived from a higher authority, prompted me to think of the world of commercial communication. 

Sadly, in our industry it is not uncommon to confuse the proper order of things. Sometimes, in our enthusiasm for producing the best work, we place creatives on a pedestal above our Clients and brands. It’s important occasionally to remind ourselves that, no matter the personnel or the project, the talent serves the idea, and the idea serves the brand.

Duccio ‘The Crucifixion’; the Redeemer with Angels; Saint Nicholas; Saint Gregory 1311–18

Siena’s golden age did not endure. In the late 1340s half of its population was killed by the bubonic plague. The city was subsequently conquered and absorbed into the Florentine state. Sic transit gloria mundi.

'It's not the way you smile that touched my heart.
It's not the way you kiss that tears me apart.
Many, many nights roll by.
I sit alone at home and cry over you.
What can I do?
I can't help myself.
When, baby, it's you.
Baby, it's you.’
The Shirelles, ‘
Baby It’s You’ (B Williams / B Bacharach / M David)

No. 514