Art And Violence In Early Renaissance Florence

This study is the first to examine the relationship between art and violence in 15th-century Florence, exposing the underbelly of a period more often celebrated for enlightened and progressive ideas. Renaissance Florentines were constantly subjected to the sight of violence, whether in carefully staged rituals of execution or images of the suffering inflicted on Christ. There was nothing new in this culture of pain, unlike the aesthetic of violence that developed towards the end of the 15th century. It emerged in the work of artists such as Piero di Cosimo, Bertoldo di Giovanni, Antonio del Pollaiuolo, and the young Michelangelo. Inspired by the art of antiquity, they painted, engraved, and sculpted images of deadly battles, ultimately normalizing representations of brutal violence. Drawing on work in social and literary history, as well as art history, Scott Nethersole sheds light on the relationship between these Renaissance images, violence, and ideas of artistic invention and authorship.

In this vivid account Scott Nethersole examines the remarkable period of cultural, artistic, and intellectual blossoming in Florence from 1400 to 1520—the period traditionally known as the Early and High Renaissance. He looks at the city and its art with fresh eyes, presenting the well-known within a wider context of cultural reference. Key works of art—from painting, sculpture, and architecture to illuminated manuscripts—by artists such as Michelangelo, Donatello, Botticelli, and Brunelleschi are showcased alongside the unexpected and less familiar.

The Ugly Renaissance is a delightfully debauched tour of the sordid, gritty reality behind some of the most celebrated artworks and cultural innovations of all time. Tourists today flock to Italy by the millions to admire the stunning achievements of the Renaissance—paintings, statues, and buildings that are the legacy of one of the greatest periods of cultural rebirth and artistic beauty the world has ever seen. But beneath the elegant surface lurked a seamy, vicious world of power politics, perversity, and corruption. In this meticulously researched and lively portrait, Renaissance scholar Alexander Lee illuminates the dark and titillating contradictions that existed alongside the enlightened spirit of the time: the scheming bankers, greedy politicians, bloody rivalries, murderous artists, religious conflicts, rampant disease, and indulgent excess without which many of the most beautiful monuments of the Renaissance would never have come into being.

This book is the first comprehensive study of images of rape in Italian painting at the dawn of the Renaissance. Drawing on a wide range of primary sources, Péter Bokody examines depictions of sexual violence in religion, law, medicine, literature, politics, and history writing produced in kingdoms (Sicily and Naples) and city-republics (Florence, Siena, Lucca, Bologna and Padua). Whilst misogynistic endorsement characterized many of these visual discourses, some urban communities condemned rape in their propaganda against tyranny. Such representations of rape often link gender and aggression to war, abduction, sodomy, prostitution, pregnancy, and suicide. Bokody also traces how the new naturalism in painting, introduced by Giotto, increased verisimilitude, but also fostered imagery that coupled eroticism and violation. Exploring images and texts that have long been overlooked, Bokody's study provides new insights at the intersection of gender, policy, and visual culture, with evident relevance to our contemporary condition.

Interest in the history of violence has increased dramatically over the last ten years and recent studies have demonstrated the productive potential for further inquiry in this field. The early modern period is particularly ripe for further investigation because of the pervasiveness of violence. Certain countries may have witnessed a drop in the number of recorded homicides during this period, yet homicide is not the only marker of a violent society. This volume presents a range of contributions that look at various aspects of violence from the fourteenth to the seventeenth centuries, from student violence and misbehaviour in fifteenth-century Oxford and Paris to the depiction of war wounds in the English civil wars. The book is divided into three sections, each clustering chapters around the topics of interpersonal and ritual violence, war, and justice and the law. Informed by the disciplines of anthropology, criminology, the history of art, literary studies, and sociology, as well as history, the contributors examine all forms of violence including manslaughter, assault, rape, riots, war and justice. Previous studies have tended to emphasise long-term trends in violent behaviour but one must always be attentive to the specificity of violence and these essays reveal what it meant in particular places and at particular times.

""This book is about hair," writes Emanuele Lugli in the first sentence of this innovative cultural history of hair as seen through the lens of Lorenzo il Magnifico's Florence. Lugli reflects on the ways writers and artists naturalized religious prejudices, circumscribed social practices, and propagated gender and class subjugation through alluring works of art, in medical and political writings, and in poetry. What, he asks, may've compelled Sandro Botticelli, for example, or the young Leonardo da Vinci and dozens of their contemporaries to obsess about hair? Why take such care in depicting the braids, knots, and textures in their portraits of women specifically? Lugli dives deeply into the cultural production of notions about hair in this period of Florentine history, the way artists, poets, natural philosophers, doctors, politicians, and theologians thought about it, and how they depicted it in their art and writings. From this varied archive, Lugli gathers rewarding insights from practices and beliefs across the disciplines and genres at a crucial time when Renaissance humanists were attempting to define what it meant to live-and be-human. Lugli recuperates overlooked perceptions of hair at the very moment when hair came to be identified as a potential vector for liberating culture, and he corrects a centuries-old prejudice that sees hair as a trivial subject, as a mere female occupation kept on the margins of relevance, relegated to passing fashion or the decorative. As Lugli shows, such oversight is anachronistic, a product of modern biases, and he corrects this by elucidating hundreds of fifteenth-century sources that engage with hair as a fundamental element in the definition of genders, morals, and the laws of nature, and the exercise of power. It is a book that will surprise and delight a wide audience of scholars and anyone interested in the hidden, systemic, creative power that relied on something as unsuspected as hair to coerce people into thinking and behaving according to a code of conduct"--