Collection
Virgen del lirio [Madonna of the Lily]
- c. 1550
- Oil on wood panel
- 146,7 x 107,2 cm
- Cat. P_210
- Acquired by the Banco Nacional de San Carlos in 1787
- Observations: Provenance: Benito Briz and José Ruperto de Sierra.
An entry in the account book for 24 January 1787, reproduced in José María Sanz García's book Madrid, ¿capital del capital español?, records payment of 7000 copper reales 'to Benito Briz as reimbursement of the same amount paid to Josep Ruperto de Sierra for the cost of a painting bought by Sr. Francisco Cabarrús for the bank's oratory'. The subject of the painting is not given, and we therefore cannot be sure that the entry refers to this work. Nonetheless, it is perfectly possible that this might be the case. However, the traditional account handed down at the Banco de España, first mentioned in a report by the Bank's archivist Sr. Varela in 1868, states that the painting was acquired by Mengs in Italy for the chapel of the original Banco de San Carlos. This version has no documentary basis and is clearly erroneous, since Mengs died in 1779, and the bank was not founded until 1782.
Given the composition and style of the painting, it is not surprising that the bank's nineteenth century stock-takers mistook it for an important Italian work, ascribing it to artists of the stature of Leonardo da Vinci (as Federico de Madrazo did), to Raphael or to Giulio Romano (a pupil of Raphael). What we do know for certain is that the panel in the Banco de España is a copy, with variants, of a famous painting by the Florentine mannerist painter Andrea del Sarto (1486-1531). Although the original has been lost, Vasari and Borghini both provide accounts of the painting's history. According to Vasari, Andrea del Sarto painted a picture for Alessandro Corsini with many 'putti' all about and a Madonna 'che siede in terra, con un putto in collo' [sitting on the ground with a cherub at her neck]. In his 1965 monograph on Andrea del Sarto, Shearman writes that the original in the Palazzo Corsini in Florence was replaced by a copy, which is now in Toronto Art Gallery.
According to Hugford's edition of Vasari, the original by Sarto passed into the hands of the Crescenzi family in Rome in 1613, as recorded in a handwritten annotation on the copy in the Corsini library. Unfortunately, there is no account of what happened to this Madonna Corsini by Andrea del Sarto, although the relatively numerous copies that have survived are proof of the fame and prestige in which this late work by the Florentine painter was held, both in Italy and in Flanders. Its success was undoubtedly due to the fact that it was one of the artist's most accomplished works, with a strong harmonic composition. Freedberg, the author of a catalogue raisonné of Andrea del Sarto's work (1963), lists seventeen versions, while Shearman's 1965 monograph speaks of fifteen. Since then, more have come to light, including one in the convent of Santa Isabel in Madrid, attributed to Vicente Sellaert Matías Díaz Padrón.
The work known as Madonna of the Lily in the Banco de España collection is painted on Baltic oak. This technique, combined with the execution and the colour are all foreign to Italian painting, and suggest that it was made by a Flemish painter. In 1988, Pérez Sánchez noted that some details of the pattern, the colour and the transparent cloth barely covering the body of Jesus, hint at an artist from the circle of Antwerp painter Joos van Cleve (1485-1540). Van Cleve's interest in the art of Florence and Leonardo da Vinci led him create a very personal style which he combined with the Flemish tradition in which he had been raised. Moreover, his knowledge of Italian art — on a par with that of Quintin Massys — gave him an important role in Flemish painting during the first thirty years of the sixteenth century.
Friedländer ascribed some of the copies of the Madonna Corsini to Cornelis van Cleve (1520-1567), son of Joos van Cleve. Finally, in 1982 Matías Díaz Padrón definitively attributed the picture to Cornelis. This attribution not only remains unchallenged, but has been further backed by the appearance of other copies of the Madonna Corsini, which have recently come on the market, such as the one that went under the hammer in 2013 at the Dorotheum auction room in Vienna, where it was bought by a private Belgian collector. This demonstrates Cornelis' fondness for repeating his compositions.
The artist trained with his father in Antwerp and collaborated with him in the last years of his life. Although considered as a follower of his father's style, Cornelis incorporated certain aspects of the art of his time, including a greater interest in the plastic sense of form, which he associated with the softness of Leonardo's modelling. He was keen on chiaroscuro, as was Andrea del Sarto, whose influence on Cornelis has been documented by Friedländer and also by Faggin in 1968, in his book La pittura and Anversa nell Cinquecento. In 1540-1541, following the death of Joos van Cleve, his son Cornelis had to become a member of the Guild of St. Luke in Antwerp in order to keep the workshop going. Unfortunately, no references have been preserved, since the records from 1541 are missing. Given the clear influence of various Italian painters, such as Andrea del Sarto, Raphael and Leonardo, some scholars believe that he may have travelled to Italy. However, there is no evidence to support this hypothesis, so it seems that he must only have had indirect access to their work. Some of his most significant work (including this panel in the Banco de España collection) dates from the period between 1540 and 1555, when he travelled to England. There he hoped to succeed as a portrait painter, but failed and went mad. Thereafter, he became known as 'Mad Cleef' ('Sotte Cleef'), according to Karel van Mander' account. Cornelis returned to Antwerp, where he lived until his death, but never regaining his sanity.
Although the Banco de España panel is a copy of Andrea del Sarto's Madonna Corsini, it is not a literal duplicate. Cornelis introduced a number of variations, which may change some aspects of the composition, such as the position and pose of the Baby Jesus, who is depicted turning to the left —the opposite direction to that of Andrea's work— with his face in full view, rather than the profile hidden in the half-light we see in the original. There are also changes in the way the iconography of the passion is represented. The way he has transformed some of the human figures is also typical of Cornelis van Cleve, in particular those of the Virgin and Child, which are fuller than in the work by the Florentine artist.
Cornelis van Cleve's version of this very well-preserved panel from the Banco de España collection displays two of the painter's most prized characteristics at this time, his rich colouring and fine modelling. The Virgin and Child are shown with St. John and three angels under a rich cloth in the form of a canopy, fastened with ties to the branches of two trees, behind which was can see the blue sky. Faithful to his upbringing in the tradition of Flemish painting, we can clearly see Van Cleef's interest in rendering the qualities of material. This is particularly evident in the way he paints the worn plinth-like stone out of which the step on which Mary sits is made. He has transposed the irises, butterflies and fabrics with the same attention to detail. The striped oriental cloth used in the Virgin's headdress is particularly interesting. As noted by Pérez Sánchez in 1988, this garment features in other paintings by Andrea del Sarto. Cornelis van Cleve also incorporated it into other works with religious themes. We can presume that he borrowed this item from the Florentine painter, rather than coming up with it himself. It does not feature in the other replicas of the Madonna Corsini by Cornelis, such as that auctioned at the Dorotheum in Vienna in 2013, which differs from the work here in several aspects; the iris and the butterflies are absent and a cloth and cushion have been added to the stone plinth. Moreover, the Infant Jesus is shown holding a cross rather than a butterfly.
The Madonna Corsini depicts Mary as the Virgin of Humility, sitting with the Christ Child surrounded by musical angels, alongside St. John the Baptist. Although this iconography had been repeated in Italy since the fourteenth century, here Andrea del Sarto offered variations on the original prototype. The Virgin is not seated on the ground amidst natural surroundings, but on a stone step with a kind of canopy over her, alluding to her condition as the mother of the Redeemer. In the panel in the Banco de España collection, Cornelis van Cleve went one step further. The angels are not playing musical instruments; instead, one on the right, shown in profile, is holding an apple, in an allusion to Christ as the new Adam, taking on the burden of sin and redeeming it through his own death. The notion of redemption is recurrent throughout the work, for example in the red of the Virgin's garments and in her self-absorbed face, anticipating the grief of the Passion even in the happy days of Jesus' infancy. It is also reinforced by the iris, another reference to the sorrow of the passion, while the butterfly symbolizes the resurrection of Christ following his death on the cross, as Ferguson noted out in 1956, in his book Signs & Symbols in Christian Art. This painting should properly be titled Madonna of the Iris, since this is the flower shown in the foreground next to the step, rather than Madonna of the Lily (of which there are none). However, it has been listed for so long in the records of the Banco de España collection under that name, that we felt it would be inappropriate to change it now.
The traditional account told at the Banco de España, based on an 1868 report by the then archivist, Señor Varela, had it that this painting was acquired in Italy by Mengs for the chapel of the original Banco de San Carlos. However, there is no documentary proof to support this hypothesis. Furthermore, it is implausible, given that Mengs died in 1779 and the Banco de San Carlos was not founded until 1782. An entry in the account book for 24 January 1787, reproduced in José María Sanz García's book Madrid, ¿capital del capital español?, records payment of 7000 copper reales 'to Benito Briz in reimbursement of the same amount paid to Josep Ruperto de Sierra for the cost of a painting bought by Mr. Francisco Cabarrús for the bank's oratory'. We cannot be sure that the entry refers to this work. However, it is perfectly possible that it might be. All the bank's nineteenth century inventories list it as a valued piece, with attributions ranging from Leonardo da Vinci (suggested by Federico de Madrazo) to Raphael or his pupil Giulio Romano.
It is actually a copy — of fine quality and magnificent technique — of a famous composition by the Mannerist painter Andrea del Sarto, several copies of which attest to its fame and prestige. The original has since been lost but the sixteenth-century Italian writers Vasari and Borghini both offer accounts of its history. According to Vasari, Andrea del Sarto created a Madonna 'che siede in terra, con un putto in collo' [seated on the ground with a little cherub at her neck]; and, according to Borghini, 'dipinse Andrea ad Alessandro Corsini un quadro d’una nostra Donna, intorniata da pargoletti fanciulli, con grand’arte e vago colorito' [Andrea painted for Alessandro Corsini a picture of Our Lady surrounded by infants with great art and faint colouring]. Borghini's reference to a commission from Alessandro Corsini, a member of one of the most powerful families in Florence, is significant.
We know from several accounts that the Corsini painting was sold in 1613 to the Crescenzi family of Rome, to be replaced in the Corsini Collection by a copy (apparently the one now held in the Ontario Art Gallery in Canada). We have no further record of the original, but the relatively number of copies of all kinds attest to the painting's fame and prestige. Shearman (1965) and Freedberg (1963), the pioneering scholars of Andrea del Sarto's work, list fifteen and seventeen versions respectively. Since then, more have come to light, including, among others, this piece and one owned by the Madrid convent of Santa Isabel, mentioned in 1953 by the Count of Casal in the magazine Arte Español and later attributed to Vincent Sellaert by Matías Díaz Padrón (Archivo Español de Arte, 1981, p. 368). The extraordinary number and reach of the copies show to what extent the composition was considered to be one of Andrea del Sarto's finest, for its delightful lyricism and harmonious composition, confirming the painter's reputation amongst his contemporaries as an artist who was 'senza errori' [free from errors].
A careful study of the Nordic oak base and the unusual painting technique employed has confirmed that the work in the Banco de España is by a painter from the Low Countries who trained (or at least at some point resided) in Italy and copied the work, interpreting it according to his own sensibilities, interests and resources. Certain peculiarities in the colouring and the drawing — for example, the face of the Infant Jesus and the transparent drapery in which he is lightly covered — suggest that it may have been painted by an artist from the Antwerp circle of Joos van Cleve (b. circa 1485 – d. circa 1540), whose discovery of Italian art gave him a prominent role in Flemish painting during the first thirty years of the sixteenth century, and who developed his own very personal blend of Florentine and Leonardesque styles with the vernacular of northern Europe. In 1943, the specialist M. J. Friedlander attributed some of the copies of Andrea del Sarto's model distributed throughout Europe to Joos van Cleve's son, Cornelis. However, it was Matías Díaz Padrón, in his article 'Una Virgen de la Humildad de Cornelis van Cleve' (published in 1982 in Goya magazine), who first attributed the piece in the Banco de España collection to Cornelis. This remains the accepted account and has since been backed by further research and the appearance of new copies, such as the one that went on sale in 2013 at the Dorotheum auction house in Vienna, which was purchased by an unidentified Belgian private collector.
Cornelis van Cleve (or van Cleef) was well aware, as the rest of his work clearly shows, of the poetics of Italian Mannerism. Cornelis later became known as 'Sotte Cleef' (Cleef the Mad) due to the mental problems that beset him in his latter years, following a journey to London where he found that Italian artists held a monopoly of art commissions. Although there is no documented evidence that he visited Italy, there is every reason to understand his interest in emulating the work of the southern painters and to exercise his skill making copies like the one now in the Banco de España Collection. Other than certain Flemish peculiarities incorporated by the artist — the result of his exquisite taste for detail (the lily, which only appears in some of the copies, may have been an addition by the artist) — this painting may represent a fairly faithful image of the original composition. One detail that is very characteristic of Andrea del Sarto's work is the striped oriental-like fabric in the Virgin's headdress, which can also be seen in other canvases by the Florentine master. Cornelis borrowed this feature and used it in other religious paintings. This element is not found in any of the other extant copies of the composition. However, it is a detail that is so typical of the Florentine master that there is no reason to think it might be an invention of the copyist.
The presence of the lily in the foreground (which has given the painting its title) and the beautifully painted butterflies have a very specific symbolic value. The lily has always been an attribute of the Virgin Mary, alluding to her virginity and her suffering during the Passion of Christ. The butterfly is the emblem of the spirit, the soul, and the gesture of the Child. By holding one in His hand, he is restating God's love for souls. These exquisite features, executed with all the technique of a Flemish master of detail, are not found in other copies and may have been added by van Cleve. If so, in this way he would have been personalising the painting, arrogating at least part of the creativity and invention of a composition that no mere replica could match.
Comment updated by Carlos Martín.
Other works by Cornelis van Cleve