which I would fain call the manner of Giotto, since it was discovered by him, continued by his disciples, and finally honoured and imitated by all. By Giotto and his disciples, the hard angular lines by which every figure was girt and bound, the senseless and spiritless eyes, the long pointed feet planted upright on their extremities, the sharp formless hands, the absence of shadow, and every other monstrosity of those Byzantine painters, were done away with, as I have said; the heads received a better grace, and more softness of colour. Giotto himself, in particular, gave more easy attitudes to his figures; he made some approach to vivacity and spirit in his heads, and folded his draperies, which have more resemblance to reality than those of his predecessors; he discovered, to a certain extent, the necessity of foreshortening the figure, and began to give some intimation of the passions and affections, so that fear, hope, anger, and love were, in some sort, expressed by his faces. The early manner had been most harsh and rugged; that of Giotto became softer, more harmonious, and—if he did not give his eyes the limpidity and beauty of life, if he did not impart to them the speaking movement of reality, let the difficulties he had to encounter plead his excuse for this, as well as for the want of ease and flow in the hair and beards: or if his hands have not the articulations and muscles of nature, if his rude figures want the reality of life, let it be remembered that Giotto had never seen the works of any better master than he was himself. And let all reflect on the rectitude of judgment displayed by this artist in his paintings, at a time when art was in so poor a state; on the large amount of ability by which alone he could have produced the results secured; for none will deny that his figures perform the parts assigned to them, or that in all his works are found proofs of a just—if not a perfect—judgment, in matters pertaining to his art. The same quality is evinced by his successors, by Taddeo Gaddi, for example, whose colouring is distinguished by greater force, as well as more softness, whose figures have more spirit and movement, whose carnations are more lifelike, and his draperies more flowing. In Simon of Siena we mark increased facility in the composition of the stories. In Stefano the Ape[1] (Stefano Schimmia), and in Tommaso his
- ↑ The ape of nature, as has been explained. — Ed. Flor. 1832.
