anner.bloodandgold-第67部分
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Now I was taken with the painting for many reasons。 I had not fallen deeply in love with Gozzoli as I had with Botticelli； but greatly admired him； and the details of this painting were fantastic in die extreme。
Not only was the Procession itself enormous； if not actually never ending； but the landscape behind it was wondrous； filled with towns and mountains； with men hunting and animals running； with
beautifully realized castles and delicately shaped trees。
Well； choosing in my palazzo one of the largest rooms； I set out to duplicate this painting in the flat mode on one wall。 What this meant was that I had to travel back and forth between Florence and Venice； memorizing parts of this painting； and then render it with all my supernatural skill。
To a very large part I succeeded in my task。
I 〃stole〃 the Procession of the Magi…this fabulous depiction of a procession so important to the Christians and especially to the Florentines and I laid it out in vivid and exact color on my wall。
There was nothing original to it。 But I had passed a test which I had set for myself； and as no one was to be admitted to this chamber； I did not fancy that I had truly robbed Gozzoli of anything he possessed。 Indeed if any mortal had found his way into this chamber which I kept locked； I would have explained that the original of this painting was done by Gozzoli； and indeed when the time came for me to show it to my apprentices； for the lessons it contained； I did so explain。
But let me return for a moment to the subject of this stolen work of art。 Why did it appeal to me？ What in it made my soul sing？ I don't know。 Except that it had to do with the three kings giving gifts； and I fancied that I was giving gifts to the children who lived in my house。 But I'm not sure if that is why I chose the painting for my first
excursion into true work with the brush。 I'm not sure at all。
Perhaps it was only that all the details of the work were so fascinating。
One could fall in love with the horses in the Procession。 Or with the faces of the young men。 I shall now leave the subject as puzzled about it as I tell my story； as I was then。
Immediately after confirming my success with the copy； I opened a spacious painting studio in the palazzo and began to work on large panels late at night while the boys slept。 I did not really need their help and I did not want them to see the speed or the determination with which I worked。
My first ambitious painting was dramatic and strange。 I painted a gathering of my apprentices in full fancy dress listening to an old Roman philosopher who wore only his long tunic and cloak and sandals； and this against a backdrop of the ruins of Rome。 It was full of vivid color and my boys were well rendered； I give myself that。 But I didn't know if it was any good。 And I didn't know if it would horrify。
I left the door open to the studio in the hope that the teachers might wander in there by day。
As it turned out they were far too timid to do it。
I proceeded to create another painting； and this time I chose the Crucifixion…an approved theme for any artist…and I rendered it with tender care…and once again I used the backdrop of the ruins of Rome。 Was it sacrilege？ I couldn't guess。 Once again； I was sure of my colors。
Indeed； this time I was sure of my proportions； and of the sympathetic expression on Christ's face。 But was the position itself somehow something that should not be？
How was I to know？ I had all this knowledge； all this seeming power。 Yet I didn't know。 Was I creating something blasphemous and monstrous？
I returned to the subject of the Magi。 I knew the conventions。 Three kings； the stable； Mary； Joseph； the Infant； Jesus； and this time I did them freely； imputing to Mary the beauty of Zenobia； and glorying in the colors as before。
Soon my giant workroom was full of paintings。 Some were correctly hung。 Others were simply propped against the wall。
Then one night； at supper to which I'd invited the boys' more refined instructors； one of them； the Greek teacher； happened to
mention that he had seen into my workshop through an open door。
〃Oh； please； tell me；〃 I said； 〃what did you think of my paintings？〃
〃Most remarkable！〃 he said frankly。 〃I've never seen anything like them！ Why； all of the figures in the painting of the Magi。。。〃 He broke off； afraid。
〃Please go on；〃 I said instantly。 〃Tell me。 I want to know。〃
〃All of die figures are looking out at us； including Mary； and Joseph； and the three kings。 I have never seen it done in that way。〃
〃But is it wrong？〃 I asked。
〃I don't think so；〃 he said quickly。 〃But who's to say？ You paint for yourself； don't you？〃
〃Yes； I do；〃 I answered。 〃But your opinion matters to me。 I find at moments I'm as fragile as glass。〃
We laughed。 Only the older boys were interested in this exchange； and I saw that the very oldest； Pierp； had something to say。 He too had seen the paintings。 He had gone inside the room。
〃Tell me everything； Piero；〃 I said； winking at him； and smiling。 〃e on。 What do you think？〃
〃The colors； Master； they were beautiful！ When will it be time for us to work with you？ I'm more skilled than you might think。〃
〃I remember； Piero；〃 I said； referring to the shop from which he'd e。 〃I'll call upon you soon enough。〃
In fact； I called upon them the very next night。
Having severe doubts about subject matter more than anything else； I resolved to follow Botticelli in that regard。
I chose the Lamentation for my subject matter。 And I made my Christ as tender and vulnerable as I could conceivably do it； and I surrounded him with countless mourners。 Pagan that I was； I didn't know who was supposed to be there！ And so I created an immense and varied crowd of weeping mortals…all in Florentine dress…to lament the dead Jesus； and angels in the sky torn with anguish much like the angels of the painter Giotto whose work I had seen in some Italian city the name of which I could not recall。
My apprentices were quite astonished by the work and so were the teachers； whom I invited into the huge workroom for the initial view。 Once again the faces I painted elicited special ment but so did the bizarre qualities of the painting…the inordinate amount of color and gold…and small touches I had added； such as insects here and there。
I realized something。 I was free。 I could paint what I wanted。 Nobody was going to be the wiser。 But then again； I thought； perhaps dial's not true。
It was desperately important for me to remain in the middle of Venice。 I did not want to lose my foothold in the warm； loving world。
I drifted out in the following weeks to all the churches once more in search of inspiration for my paintings； and I studied many a grotesque and bizarre picture which amazed me almost as much as my own work。
An artist by the name of Carpaccio had created a work called Meditation on the Passion which revealed the body of the dead Christ endironed against a fantastical landscape； and flanked by two
white…haired saints who peered at the viewer as if Christ were not there！
In the work of a painter named Criyelli； I found a truly grotesque picture of die dead Savior； flanked by two angels who looked like monsters。 And the same painter had done a Madonna almost as lovely and lifelike as Botticelli's goddesses or nymphs。
I arose night after night hungry not for blood； though I certainly fed when I had to feed； but for my time in thie workshop； and soon my paintings； all of them on large wooden panels； were propped all over the enormous house。
Finally； because I could keep track of them no longer； and went on to tilings new； rather than to perfect die old； I gave in to Vincenzo that he might have these works properly mounted as he wished。
Meanwhile our whole pajazzo； though it had bee famous in Venice as 〃a strange place；〃 remained somewhat closed to the world。
Undoubtedly my hired teachers spoke of their days and evenings in the pany of Marius de Romanus； and all our servants gossiped； no question of it； and I did not seek to put an end to such talk。
But I did not
