Room
4
The visit to Room 4 begins with the mysterious and very famous Cefalù
Portrait of a Man by Antonello, known for a long time as the Portrait
of an Unknown Sailor – formerly in Lipari and used as the door
of a pharmacy cupboard – who rivets the viewer’s attention
with his direct and ironic gaze, and enigmatic, inscrutable smile. There
follows a series of works that exemplify the fertile stylistic dialogue
between artists active in Naples – a melting pot where there were
close contacts with Spanish and Provençal art – and in
Sicily. Here, then, are the so-called Noto Madonna of the Snow and the
Palazzolo Acreide Madonna of Grace by the Dalmatian Francesco Laurana,
produced by the sculptor in Sicily after the years spent in Naples and
Provence. These recall Antonello’s work in the geometric structuring
of the figures and the stylized elegance of the oval faces. Here, the
sculptures are juxtaposed with Antonello’s polyptyches (finally
reassembled for this exhibition) to reveal the different aspects of
his formation. The Virgin and Child Crowned by Angels, the Saint John
the Evangelist (Uffizi, Florence) and the Saint Benedict (Castello Sforzesco,
Milan) are striking in that, despite the division of the scenes into
sections, Antonello chooses a unifying light, according to Italian spatial
principles, while drawing inspiration from Provençal painting
in the pure definition of the faces and the luministic effects of the
glinting metals and shimmering fabrics. Another work that exemplifies
the direction the painter was taking is the great Messina Polyptych
of Saint Gregory, executed in 1473 and restored for this exhibition.
Apart from the archaic quality of the gold ground, it reveals Antonello’s
extraordinary and original skill in rendering perspective by making
the vanishing point visible in the centre of a panel bathed in light.
And it is also the light that brings out the thousands of details, such
as the small scar on Gregory’s chin, which makes the figure of
the saint come alive, and the book that the Madonna is so realistically
holding out us, as though inviting us to read.