In 1488 Giuliano da Sangallo arrived in Naples with his model for a new royal palace commissioned by Lorenzo de’ Medici for the king of Naples, Ferrante of Aragon. In Giuliano da Sangallo in the Kingdom of Naples: Architecture and Cultural Exchange, Bianca de Divitiis examines the design of this royal palace in the context of the cultural and diplomatic relationship between Naples and Florence, considering the architect’s attempt to respond to the ceremonial and practical requirements of the Neapolitan court and to integrate “foreign” models with elements derived from local antiquities. De Divitiis analyzes the origins of the palace design and other important projects by Florentine architects in Naples, such as the suburban villa Poggioreale. The article looks at the knowledge, stimuli, and contacts that Giuliano acquired during his sojourn in the Kingdom of Naples and the legacy he left there.
In 1488 the Florentine architect Giuliano da Sangallo brought to Naples the model of a new royal palace commissioned by Lorenzo de’ Medici for the king of Naples, Ferrante of Aragon.1 The model is missing, but its scheme is known from three plans drawn by Giuliano in his sketchbooks (Figures 1, 2 and 3).2 Giuliano da Sangallo, Lorenzo de’ Medici’s personal architect, was one of the major architects of the fifteenth century.3 The royal palace for the king of Naples is the first of a series of palace projects on a monumental scale that Giuliano designed under commission from the Medici.4 Although never executed, the design of the Neapolitan reggia may be considered one of the most ambitious conceived at the time, both for its dimensions and for the richness of its cultural references, and it influenced both contemporary and later palace projects throughout Italy.
Extensively studied since the end of the nineteenth century, Sangallo’s project for the king of Naples has been the object of much analysis and debate.5 Despite attempts to reconstruct the interior and exterior elevations of the building, major questions remain concerning its specific architectural details. In large part these stem from a lack of documentary or other evidence that could shed light on the final appearance and architectural idiom envisaged for the building (Figure 4).6 In the 1970s George Hersey and Roberto Pane further complicated the history of the palace by calling into question the function of the building, suggesting that it was not intended to be a royal palace but was conceived instead to house the law courts of the kingdom.7 Even if this suggestion has not found a significant following in modern scholarship, and I believe it should be rejected, it gives an idea of the complexity of the problems related to the project of this palace, which, had it been executed, would have been one of the major dynastic residences of fifteenth-century Europe.
Giuliano’s design has been regarded as a case of the one-way exportation of architectural knowledge from Florence to Naples. If instead one looks at it from the Neapolitan point of view, a rather different and more complex picture emerges. This article examines Sangallo’s palace design within the context of diplomatic relationships and cultural exchanges between Naples and Florence. It relates a telling case of the ways in which architecture was a crucial aspect of the diplomatic activity of the Italian Renaissance states and of the growing networks of communication that attuned governments to intelligence gathering and reciprocal dialogue.8 When not fighting on the field, rulers engaged in a courtly game focused on the art of building, competing to demonstrate the splendor and magnificence of their residences but also exchanging architects as well as architectural models and drawings as diplomatic gifts.9 While we are well aware of Lorenzo’s diplomatic gifts, no attention has hitherto been paid to the fact that the Neapolitan royals used this political and cultural strategy with great skill when dealing with the other rulers of the Italian Peninsula, as with those of more distant courts. The case of the design for a royal palace sent to Ferrante of Aragon shows, I will argue, how Lorenzo’s cultural diplomacy was not a one-way street; rather, it relied on a dual exchange between the Aragonese and Medicean courts. Moreover, I would maintain that the overall history and conception of the project had an intrinsic diplomatic character: Giuliano was sent as an informal ambassador to the court not only to export the architectural language of Florence to Naples but also to negotiate the project’s final features with the recipients of the gift, the Aragonese royal family.10
When he arrived in Naples in 1488 to deliver the model, Giuliano found a lively cultural ambience, steeped in antiquarian culture, eager for new architecture, and enlivened by a courtly life that aimed to revive the customs of the ancients. In this article, by setting the palace plan into the context of other building activity undertaken by the royal family, especially that of Alfonso, Duke of Calabria, during Giuliano’s sojourn, I will demonstrate that the Florentine architect attempted to respond to the ceremonial and practical requirements of the Neapolitan court in his design, not only by integrating “foreign” models but also by incorporating ideas and formal elements that derived from local antiquities. Furthermore, I will clarify the chronology of Giuliano’s stay in Naples, identify antique buildings that he studied, and show how he incorporated elements from them into the design of his palace. My new reading of the context, sources, and features of the project for the king of Naples will make it evident that Giuliano’s knowledge of southern antiquities and of the Neapolitan context not only inspired specific elements of his design for the Neapolitan reggia but also influenced his later works in Florence. The research presented here will also contribute to a better understanding of Neapolitan Renaissance architecture by providing deeper insights into the impact of Florence on the wider building activity in the kingdom and by illustrating the active and knowledgeable role taken by the Aragonese royals and the southern elite in the design of their buildings. As patrons, they understood ancient architecture and kept constantly abreast of the latest trends in the art of building.
The Palace Plan
The information available regarding Giuliano da Sangallo’s stay in Naples is sparse.11 Apart from a record dated 28 February 1488 that tells us that the Duke of Calabria ordered a payment of one hundred ducats to be made to the architect,12 the main document relating his trip to Naples comes from Giuliano himself, who below the design of the palace on fol. 39 of his model book, the Vatican Codex Barberiniano 4424, wrote in capital letters that the drawing found there represented the plan of a model of a palace, sent by Lorenzo de’ Medici to King Ferrante of Aragon, which Giuliano had made and personally brought to Naples. He noted that this was in the year 1488 (see Figure 3).13
The three autograph drawings of the palace are the only surviving trace of the project, which was presented to the king in the form of a wooden model. Although the drawings date from different times and differ in their definition of minor details, they all represent essentially the same plan (see Figures 1, 2 and 3).14 The sketch plan outlined on fol. 17 of the Taccuino Senese can be dated to 1488, the very year Giuliano arrived in Naples (see Figure 1). The drawing on fol. 8 of the Vatican Codex is a fair copy of the sketch in the Taccuino Senese and can also be dated around 1488 as part of the so-called libro-piccolo or “little booklet” from Giuliano’s early activity that he later incorporated into the larger Vatican Codex (see Figure 2).15 The only significant difference between fol. 17 of the Taccuino Senese and fol. 8 of the Codex Barberiniano is the addition of a detailed plan of the chapel in the Vatican drawing. The plan on fol. 39 of the Vatican Codex, known as the “large drawing,” was executed later, probably in the first decade of the sixteenth century (see Figure 3). Here we find indicated the thickness of the walls, a scale, and other measurements, as well as decorative elements such as columns, pilasters, and niches, all details that Sangallo seems to have added in order to leave a complete record of a project that was never executed and whose wooden model had probably already disappeared. The only one of the three plans to cover the entire page, the drawing on fol. 39 is complete with ornamental and constructive details and accompanied by the inscription in capital lettering recounting the story of the gift of the model from Lorenzo to Ferrante. It demonstrates a clear intention to create a beautiful drawing, an intention not evident in the two previous plans of the palace. The monumentality of the drawing matches that of the final layout of the Codex Barberiniano, which had been conceived by Giuliano as a model book of an autobiographical nature compiled to transmit his knowledge to his son Francesco and to present his work to posterity.16
Even if some details appear only in the “big drawing” of the palace, the main architectural ideas had already been conceived at the time of the original 1488 sketch plan in the Taccuino Senese. With a rectangular plan developed around a symmetrical axis, the palace would have been raised on a platform similar to that of the Medici villa at Poggio a Caiano, resembling the basis villae of antiquity (see Figure 4).17 A wide central staircase and two lateral sets of stairs rose from the ground level to a large open platform. A central entrance dominated by a portico, recalling an ancient triumphal arch, consisted of five arches on piers framed by freestanding columns. Following this portico was an unusual space consisting of a large room divided into three passages separated by colonnades. Attempting to re-create the form and sequence of spaces of an ancient domus, as scholars have noted, Giuliano proposed, probably for the first time, a vestibule (conceived as a portico) followed by an atrium divided by columns into three naves, which may reflect an erudite interpretation of the atrium based on a misunderstanding of its description in Vitruvius’s De architectura (IV, 7, 1–2). Vitruvius referred to wings (alae) in the atrium that seem to have been later interpreted as side aisles like those commonly found in a basilica. The first to define the alae explicitly as such was the erudite architect Fra Giovanni Giocondo da Verona (in his 1511 edition of Vitruvius), who may have based his understanding on Giuliano da Sangallo’s earlier plan.18 The three-aisle form can also be seen in Antonio da Sangallo the Younger’s interpretation of the atrium of Palazzo Farnese in Rome, as well as in later examples.19
If the detail of the atrium demonstrates Giuliano’s knowledge of Vitruvius, other parts of the project show his familiarity with the other fundamental text on architecture of his time, Leon Battista Alberti’s De re aedificatoria, written in the mid-fifteenth century and printed in Florence in 1485. Reflecting Alberti’s prescriptions on the core of the house, the center of the palace is formed of a large central sunken courtyard, resembling an ancient amphitheater transformed into a rectangular rather than oval shape, surrounded by steps with access points that recall the vomitoria—that is, the passages situated behind the tiers of seats in ancient stadia and amphitheaters. In line with the entrance there is a large fountain (or possibly a statue on a pedestal), and at the end of the building the main hall or sala, like the sala at the Medici villa of Poggio a Caiano, is covered by a barrel vault. This central axis culminates in a centrally planned chapel that anticipates projects by Giuliano executed just after 1488, such as the Church of the Madonna dell’Umiltà in Pistoia and the sacristy of the Church of Santo Spirito in Florence.20 To either side of the central axis we find six apartments, four identical and mirror images of each other and two larger ones flanking the short ends of the rectangular courtyard, located in the center of the two sides of the palace, together with gardens and loggias. The doors and windows of the single spaces are aligned, and the services are located at distance from the more representative rooms. At the same time, the hierarchy of the rooms within the single apartments reflects the sequence of spaces with different forms and dimensions of the ancient thermal baths, which would have generated a succession of images for the viewer in motion. The dimensions of Sangallo’s plan are truly monumental: each side of the square base was to measure 194 meters, an unheard-of scale in the late fifteenth century and one that recalls the great complexes of ancient Rome, such as the imperial baths or the so-called Palace of Maecenas on the Quirinal Hill.21 We cannot, however, discount that Giuliano might have been aware of enormous royal residential complexes built at this time both within and beyond the Italian Peninsula, and the scale of his Neapolitan project might have been partly inspired by them.22
Cultural Diplomacy and the Exchange of Gifts
In his life of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Niccolò Valori recounts how King Ferrante, desiring to build a new royal residence for himself, requested and obtained from Lorenzo the model of a new palace.23 A portrait of Lorenzo painted at the end of the sixteenth century by Girolamo Macchietti depicts a letter ostensibly sent by the king of Naples to Florence on 4 April 1488 mentioning specific features that he wanted for his new royal residence. This story, however, is clearly an ingenious invention.24 There is no specific documentary evidence to support the notion that the project actually originated in a formal request sent from Ferrante to Lorenzo. Recently published evidence reveals, however, that Lorenzo had been aware of Ferrante’s desire to have a new palace for nearly a year. In August 1487 the Ferrarese ambassador in Florence, Aldobrandino Guidoni, wrote: “Bernardino, chancellor of the Lord Duke of Calabria, departed yesterday morning, which was 29 August; he has left a copy of the trial documents against the barons, and brought two beautiful mules for the Magnificent Lorenzo; Lorenzo is also making a model of a palace for his Majesty the King [Ferrante], which he says he wants to create to rehouse His Majesty, who no longer wishes to reside in the castle in Naples.”25
Guidoni’s letter takes us to the heart of the mechanisms of informal international diplomacy that characterized the political relationship between the Kingdom of Naples and the Florentine regime, in which Ferrante and Lorenzo were accustomed to exchanging the finest products of the territories that they respectively ruled. Together with the thoroughbred mules, which the Aragonese valued highly, Ferrante had sent Lorenzo a printed copy of the proceedings of the trial against the two leading barons who had rebelled against him: Antonello Petrucci and Francesco Coppola.26 The proceedings, printed in a small folio volume dated 14 July 1487, represented a masterpiece of typography. Ferrante, an enthusiastic promoter of the art of printing, had produced what is perhaps the first example of a printed legal account of this kind. At the cost of 1,450 ducats, two hundred copies were made, destined for the leading rulers in Italy and throughout Europe.27 Lorenzo would surely have been interested in, and possibly taken aback by, not only the publication’s innovative character but also its contents. Following the official account of the proceedings, the volume chronicled and presented direct testimonies about the cruel executions meted out to Antonello Petrucci and Francesco Coppola, both of whom Lorenzo knew very well, having been their guest when he stayed in Naples. More important, he was also in debt to them for considerable sums of money.
Lorenzo reciprocated in an equally original way, by sending Ferrante an actual model—rather than a mere drawing—of a palace, together with the architect who designed it.28 Up to that moment, the long tradition of exchanging presents between Naples and Florence had included gifts of drawings, paintings, sculptures, and works of literature, as well as singers, clowns, and preachers, but never an actual architectural model; furthermore, diplomatic gifts were usually presented by humanists, merchants, or ecclesiastics who had been specially recruited to accompany the official ambassadors.29 This exchange thus created a double novelty: an architectural model as the object of the diplomatic gift and the architect himself as the person delivering this gift. Giorgio Vasari’s account reveals how exceptional it was that such an important political and cultural mission was delegated to an architect by emphasizing the wonder with which Giuliano was received in Naples.30
As we will see, Giuliano da Maiano, another architect, carried two architectural models from Florence to Naples in 1488. This was not part of a diplomatic mission, however; it was the result of a specific commission from Alfonso, Duke of Calabria. Sangallo, in contrast, arrived in the kingdom not as a mere master builder with the obligation of carrying out the project but as an informal ambassador sent by Lorenzo with the intellectual responsibility of illustrating his design and explaining—as Vasari recounts—“the difficulties that he had faced.”31 A similar scenario would be repeated in 1492 when Giuliano carried a model of Lorenzo de’ Medici’s suburban villa of Poggio a Caiano as a diplomatic gift for the Duke Ludovico il Moro in Milan. In the Milanese gift, Giuliano was presenting a model of a totally Florentine project, the construction of which was already well under way. In the case of the project for the king of Naples, he was sent not only to export the Florentine architectural language but also, I would maintain, to negotiate the final features of the project with the Neapolitan royals.32
The Projects of Alfonso, Duke of Calabria, and Their Importance
When Giuliano arrived in Naples with the model of the new royal palace in 1488, three building projects were already under way in the city for Ferrante’s son, Alfonso, Duke of Calabria: one to refashion Castel Capuano, his main residence in Naples; another to construct the Duchesca, the luxurious dépendence built in the garden of the castle; and a third to build Poggioreale, a suburban villa a few miles outside the city (Figure 5, nos. 2, 3, 6; Figure 6).33 From a building account dated 1488, it is clear that all three projects were being carried out simultaneously and that all were supervised by the Florentine architect Giuliano da Maiano, whose name appears on almost every page of the document, alternately organizing the transport of ancient columns found in Naples to Poggioreale, supervising the painting of the rooms of the apartments in Castel Capuano “a lo modo fiorentino” (in the Florentine manner), and providing the nails to hang tapestries on the walls of the Duchesca.34
Giuliano da Maiano had already worked in Naples in the period 1485–86 on rebuilding the old Angevin city walls. He had been sent from Florence in response to Alfonso’s request to Lorenzo de’ Medici for an architect and therefore occupied a different role from the one filled by Giuliano da Sangallo a few years later.35 The work on the walls had to be interrupted in 1486 because of the Barons’ Revolt; it was resumed once royal power had been reestablished in 1487.36 For the first time, the new wall circuit included Castel Capuano within the city perimeter, and Alfonso was therefore able to view his residence as a potential palace rather than as a fortress. He also conceived it as the center of a new urban system that included the Duchesca and Poggioreale, as well as a renovated Porta Capuana and Santa Maria dei Martiri, a new church dedicated to the martyrs killed by the Turks during the sack of Otranto in 1480 (see Figure 5, nos. 2–6).37 From the diary of the Duke of Calabria we know that on 17 February 1487 Alfonso “gave orders to [start] building” and sent for “Messer Juliano [da Maiano] draftsman [designatore] in Florence.”38 This event initiated a period of extensive architectural exchange between Naples and Florence: requests for projects and the sending of drawings, architectural models, and architects would culminate in the months from summer 1487 to 1488 and with the arrival of Giuliano da Sangallo with his model of the new royal palace for King Ferrante, Alfonso’s father.
Between the interruption of building works in 1485 and their renewal in 1487 something very important took place that has not been given its due significance in the architectural literature. On 31 August 1486, Alfonso stayed at Borgo San Sepolcro, where he received a special visit from Lorenzo de’ Medici.39 The meeting with Lorenzo was part of an extensive tour that Alfonso had begun with his troops in order to confront the rebel barons headed by the Count of Caiazzo, Roberto Sanseverino. During this military campaign, from December 1485 to December of the following year, the Duke of Calabria crossed the territories belonging to the pope and, after having built a wooden bridge and a bastion on the river Tiber near Monterotondo, was put up as a guest in the Orsini castle at Bracciano. After traveling past the ancient baths of Viterbo and the cities of Montepulciano and Cortona, Alfonso stayed for nearly two months at the Orsini residence in Pitigliano. Even after he had defeated his enemies in Montorio on 7 May 1486, Alfonso continued his tour of the countryside, remaining in the area to the north of Rome, until he went to meet Lorenzo in Borgo San Sepolcro at the end of August.40
Among the many things Lorenzo and Alfonso discussed on this occasion, they probably talked about architecture, not only as a generic interest they had in common but also as something on which they were actively collaborating. Lorenzo would have wanted to be updated on the works being carried out in Naples, for which he had provided the architect Giuliano da Maiano, and Alfonso on his side must have been interested in the new building site at Poggio a Caiano: only a few months earlier, in April 1486, Alfonso had sent Lorenzo thirty of his best bullocks to do the plowing of the dairy farm.41 It may have been on that occasion too that Lorenzo awakened Alfonso’s interest with the appealing idea that he too could have an all’antica suburban villa of the same type as Poggio a Caiano (see Figure 6).
After having met Lorenzo, Alfonso continued his political, military, and architectural tour. In September 1486 the Duke of Calabria was received at Castel Bolognese, the residence of the ruler of Bologna, Giovanni II Bentivoglio; he then passed through Rimini and finally stayed in the Palazzo dell’Imperatore in Pesaro. From there Alfonso went to visit the convent-fortress and pilgrimage center of Santa Maria di Loreto.42 In Loreto, the duke would have also admired the new work Giuliano da Maiano had undertaken in the convent after the architect had to interrupt his work in the kingdom.43 From Loreto, Alfonso visited the Benedictine monastery near Giulianova and then the city of Giulianova itself, which had been newly founded in 1470 by the Duke of Atri, Giulio Antonio Acquaviva, thanks to the privileges granted by Alfonso himself and by his father, Ferrante.44 Moving along the Adriatic coast, he then went to Puglia to check on his territories and his barons, returning to Naples only in December 1486.45
During this tour, Alfonso had the chance to visit and admire the principal residences and other buildings constructed for the rulers of the various states in the Italian Peninsula, as well as the major monasteries that were on his route; this experience must have encouraged him to recommence the works of urban renewal that he had begun in Naples before the Barons’ Revolt. The order calling “the Florentine Giuliano” to recommence building was issued by Alfonso only a month and a half after his return to Naples. The Giuliano in question was certainly Giuliano da Maiano. In several payments made between 29 May and 8 August, the duke compensated da Maiano “for some drawings” through the services of the Florentine banker Giuliano Gondi.46 At the end of August, da Maiano left Florence for Naples preceded by two models for a palace, perhaps both for Poggioreale or possibly for the double complex formed by Castel Capuano and the Duchesca.47 When Giuliano da Maiano left for Naples to supervise three building projects for Alfonso of Calabria, work on the model for Ferrante’s royal palace was still under way in Florence, according to the letter dated 30 August 1487 written by the Ferrarese ambassador. The palace for the king of Naples would thus be the fourth Aragonese building project, carried out in parallel with the three for Alfonso. It is in this light that Giuliano da Sangallo’s project should be reinterpreted—that is, in the context of the other building projects that were already under construction in Naples as well as Castel Nuovo, the old and by then inadequate royal residence (Figure 7).
Sangallo’s Palace Plan, Castel Nuovo, and Other Royal Residences
Founded in 1272 by King Charles I of Anjou, Castel Nuovo had been rebuilt in the mid-fifteenth century by King Alfonso I of Aragon, partly reusing the medieval structure of the Angevin castle.48 Reconciling the wide range of practical and ceremonial functions related to the life of the state and the life of the court was a common problem in the architectural efforts of the Renaissance rulers who tried to refashion their residences as princely palaces. As the major dynastic residence of a sovereign who ruled over half the territory of the entire Italian Peninsula, Castel Nuovo presented an extreme version of such problems. It required continuous updating and rethinking of its spaces in order to respond adequately to court functionality and at the same time represent the integrity of monarchical power.
While rebuilding Castel Nuovo, Alfonso I eagerly sought information on the residences that other rulers were creating. In 1456 he engaged in a genteel competition on the art of building with the Duke of Milan, Francesco Sforza, trying to find out from the Milanese ambassadors in Naples the main features and measurements of the castle of Porta Giovia in Milan, also under construction in those years, as well as details of the other castles in the duchy.49 Thirty years later, King Ferrante I and his son Alfonso would have certainly looked with interest at other dynastic palaces that were recently built or still under construction as they began to bring their own residences up to date. As noted above, Duke Alfonso had personally visited several fortresses and princely residences during his tour in the central and northern Italian territories in 1486. He might have known of others through his diplomatic and artistic contacts. For example, the dynastic residence of the major enemy of the Kingdom of Naples, the new and magnificent royal palace of the Topkapı in Constantinople, built by the Ottoman sultan Mehmed II between 1459 and 1478, was surely known at the Aragonese court.50 After the fall of Constantinople in 1453, the kingdom had become the leading outpost in the defense of the Christian West against the Ottomans. The need for up-to-date information about the kingdom’s opponents had become an element of vital importance, as shown by the proliferation of historical and literary accounts on the usages and customs of the Turks and on the figure of Mehmed II.51 Furthermore, behind the historical hostility, diplomatic contacts and commercial exchanges between Naples and Constantinople had always been continuous, both before and after the Turkish conquest of Otranto and the Turks’ subsequent defeat and expulsion in 1481.52 In certain periods Ferrante’s peace overtures to the sultan were also reinforced by diplomatic gifts that would have contributed to Mehmed’s notable art patronage. In 1478, the very year the Topkapı was being completed, Ferrante sent his artist Costanzo de Moysis to the Ottoman court, probably to assist in the decoration of the palace.53 Officially knighted by the sultan while in Constantinople, Costanzo executed a portrait medal of Mehmed as well as other works of art before he returned to Naples after the sultan’s death in 1481.54 Accounts of the palace from ambassadors, spies, and merchants would have been helpful, but the report of an artist would have been even more valuable and accurate.55 Once back in the kingdom, the same Costanzo de Moysis was engaged in important royal commissions. In 1488 he was involved in the decoration of Castel Capuano and the Duchesca, both residences that, as we have seen, were being renovated at the same time Giuliano da Sangallo’s project for the large royal palace was presented to the king.56 Seen from Naples, Mehmed’s palace would have seemed a magnificent residence. With its unmatched dimensions and interior splendor overlooking two seas, the Topkapı would have provided an inspiring example of a palace conceived to serve simultaneously as a stage set for the representation of dynastic power, an administrative center for a vast empire, and a residence for the royal family. The Neapolitan royals would have likely felt stimulated to compete. The princely residences Alfonso had visited throughout Italy and the accounts of the Topkapı would have made the Neapolitan Castel Nuovo seem even more inadequate and outdated.
Despite the efforts made first by Alfonso I and then by Ferrante to modernize its architecture and improve its comfort, Castel Nuovo never managed to lose the defensive character of a fortress.57 Furthermore, Castel Nuovo was a congested building that included prisons, part of the law courts, and several workshops that produced both necessities and luxury objects (such as majolica vases and manuscripts) for the court.58 Such inadequacies must have caused serious problems for Ferrante. During this period, under both Alfonso I and Ferrante, important officials and foreign guests who visited Naples were accommodated in the modern and comfortable palaces of certain barons, such as the Count of Maddaloni, Diomede Carafa, rather than in Castel Nuovo.59 Lorenzo himself had stayed in the palace of the royal secretary, Antonello Petrucci, in 1466, and in 1479 he stayed in the palace of the Count of Alife, Pascasio Diaz Garlon.60 During his Neapolitan visits, Lorenzo must have understood how inadequate the castle was as a residence for a modern prince and, at the same time, must have become aware of the requirements of the Neapolitan court, of its ceremonies and of the tastes of the local elite. Such information would be useful for Giuliano da Sangallo in his work designing a new royal residence that would enhance court functionality. Seen from this point of view, Giuliano’s design for a palace for the king of Naples can be interpreted as a radical rethinking of the type and arrangement of spaces that were already present in Castel Nuovo. Sangallo’s new building would be capable of fulfilling both the ceremonial rituals of the court and the functions of a modern reggia.
If the scale of ancient buildings such as the Palace of Maecenas and the imperial baths served as inspiration for Sangallo’s project, it is equally true that the goal of building a royal palace on the monumental scale of a castle was a crucial stimulus. Sangallo’s new palace would have to accommodate the requirements of the large and complex court of the only kingdom that existed in the Italian Peninsula in the Quattrocento. Furthermore, the gigantic scale on which the project was conceived seems to have been dictated by Castel Nuovo itself (Figure 8). A quick comparison of the dimensions of the two buildings supports such a hypothesis. Not only is Sangallo’s new palace significantly larger, but also each of the main elements of its design outmeasures the corresponding element in Castel Nuovo. The overall length of each side of the palace designed by Giuliano, according to the metrical scale that appears in all the three versions of the project, is approximately 194 meters, whereas the sides of the existing castle alone (i.e., without the original gardens and the external fortifications that surround it) measure about 130 meters.61 According to the measurement on Sangallo’s plans, the courtyard (cavaedium) measures 78 by 34 meters; the polygonal courtyard of Castel Nuovo measures approximately 50 by 50 meters (Figure 9). Compared to the 26 meters of each of the four sides of the Gran Sala in Castel Nuovo, Sangallo’s Gran Sala has equally impressive measurements: 53 by 20 meters.
The huge scale of the project raises the problem of where such a monumental construction could have been built; Ferrante, Lorenzo, and Giuliano must have had a possible site in mind from the outset. The highly built-up character of the historical center of Naples on one side and the presence of the sea and of hills on the other leaves the area to the west of the city, which at the time had not yet been developed, as the only possibility for a palace of such dimensions.62 It is possible that the palace was intended to be erected approximately on the site where fifty years later the Spanish viceroy Pedro de Toledo would build the new royal palace—that is, beyond the gardens of Castel Nuovo (Figure 10).63 Such a location would find an echo in Vasari’s account, according to which the new palace was immediately begun near Castel Nuovo; it would also have re-created the relationship between the arx (fortress) and the reggia described by Leon Battista Alberti in the De re aedificatoria, leaving Castel Nuovo as the arx, with the sole function of a defensive fortress, whereas the new palace would have been a veritable princely reggia, connected to the arx through the castle’s preexisting gardens.64 The concepts of Lorenzo and Giuliano’s design, inspired by Alberti’s treatise, would have been easily understood in the Neapolitan context, where Albertian culture was well known.65 Alberti’s visit to Naples in 1465 as a guest of Filippo Strozzi had been very influential, and copies of the De re aedificatoria circulated among the Neapolitan court.66 Following the topography of the site, the palace would probably have been oriented to have the main façade facing toward the ancient city and the main apartments toward the sea.
With the knowledge of the plan and distribution of rooms of Castel Nuovo, Giuliano’s project was able to satisfy the requirements of the court ceremonial. For example, the Gran Sala had to be directly connected with the courtyard, the royal apartments, and the palatine chapel, so that the king could go directly from his apartments to the Gran Sala, where the barons would be waiting for him, and from there proceed to the chapel.67 The presence of several apartments in addition to those of the king on one side and those of the queen on the other, the division of the king’s residential apartments into seven rooms of different dimensions, and the position of the chapel on axis with the main entrance to the palace are all elements that already existed in Castel Nuovo. Giuliano proposed them anew in his design with a better organization of spaces and in a new all’antica style, replacing, for example, the monumental Catalan stellar vault of the Gran Sala in Castel Nuovo with a large barrel vault similar to the one in Poggio a Caiano and envisaging a central-plan chapel in place of the Angevin chapel of Santa Barbara (see Figures 8 and 9).68 Furthermore, the basisvillae envisaged by Giuliano, in which the residential quarters are elevated on a high base, may have been conceived as a solution that would have brought order to the provisional structures, such as the dwellings for slaves, cages for animals, and stables that crowded the moat surrounding the castle (see Figures 7 and 8).69 The conception of the façade insofar as it can be deduced from the plan seems to reflect and modernize the triumphal and theatrical features of the magnificent arch in marble built by Alfonso I at the entrance to Castel Nuovo, consisting of two superimposed all’antica triumphal arches divided by a frieze showing the king’s entrance into Naples in the guise of a Roman emperor. From the plan, it is clear that Giuliano conceived a façade with freestanding columns on pedestals that frame arches on piers, a typical feature of triumphal arches that, according to Alberti, was commonly found in ancient theaters and amphitheaters, as well as on the façades of ancient palaces.70 Probably the arch was intended to be crowned by a tall attic, as in ancient triumphal arches; this would have allowed the insertion of figurative and narrative panels similar to the reliefs covering Castel Nuovo’s arch, which we can imagine as similar to those with which Giuliano had already experimented in the courtyard of the palace of Bartolomeo Scala in Florence.71
The most innovative element of Giuliano’s project is the courtyard, conceived as a rectangular version of an ancient amphitheater with a shallow cavaedium at the center surrounded by steps. The courtyard had been one of the weakest points of Castel Nuovo from the beginning: already when the castle was still under construction it had been strongly criticized by Francesco Sforza’s ambassadors for its small size, which was in sharp contrast to the imposing appearance of the exterior (see Figures 8 and 9).72 From later sources it also emerges that the courtyard did not offer an adequate space for the theatrical performances and feasts attended by large numbers of guests that were held there. For example, on the occasion of the wedding of the Duchess of Milan in 1485 a vast crowd of guests was crushed by the collapse of the external staircase leading to the Gran Sala, resulting in injuries to arms, heads, legs, and noses.73 The palace proposed by Giuliano and Lorenzo was to include a T-shaped courtyard of dimensions superior to those of the Castel Nuovo courtyard. This feature would have satisfied not only the all’antica taste of the Aragonese royals but also the ceremonial requirements of the monarchy. The sunken courtyard (cavaedium) at the center offered a space for presentations and ceremonies that could be easily followed by members of the court, who could be accommodated in comfort and order on the surrounding steps. The presence of the scalaria (steps leading to seats) and vomitoria (intermediate passages), inspired by ancient amphitheaters, would ensure public order and give easier access to the seating. The part of the courtyard in front of the Gran Sala would have overlooked this space, like a real stage where the king would appear to his subjects, waiting in the cavaedium, in a kind of epiphany. This would be similar to the occasions in Castel Nuovo when he appeared on the triumphal balcony from the Gran Sala.74 The façade of the Gran Sala at the rear of the courtyard recalled the same association between theatrical and triumphal motifs—formed of freestanding columns framing arches on pilasters—that is found on the external front of the palace. Together with the fountain (or possibly a statue) and peristyle of the court in front of it, the façade of the Gran Sala would thus have functioned as a permanent frons scenae (proscenium) for the public appearances of the royal family and for official celebrations, as well as for theatrical performances (see Figure 4).75
The Amphitheater Courtyard and Its Antique Precedents
One of the most innovative aspects of Sangallo’s Neapolitan palace design, the sunken courtyard with its theater-like seats, is also one whose origin seems tied to a Neapolitan context. A similar courtyard is found in Giuliano da Maiano’s Poggioreale and Duchesca, both designed for Alfonso, Duke of Calabria.76 The evident similarity between the courtyard of the palace designed by Giuliano da Sangallo for the king of Naples and those of Poggioreale and the Duchesca raises the question of who was responsible for such an original feature, which we will see again in Sangallo’s later designs for the temporary theater on the Capitoline Hill of 1513 and for the palace in Via Laura, dated to the second decade of the sixteenth century (Figures 11 and 12).77
Considering the evidence, I believe that the original idea of the courtyard may have been the result of shared reflection, matured during the summer of 1487 in Florence, among Lorenzo and his two architects, Giuliano da Sangallo and Giuliano da Maiano. Furthermore, this particular form of courtyard had not yet emerged in projects intended for the Florentine Medici. It therefore seems to have been conceived as a response to a complex cultural context of assumptions, requirements, and habits of attending theatrical spectacles and visiting baths that were shared by the Neapolitan and Florentine elites. The feature of the courtyard with descending steps seems to have been adjusted to the different natures of the two projects—that is, the need to host the performance of crowded triumphal celebrations in Ferrante’s royal palace and the need to accommodate guests at refined banquets in Alfonso’s suburban villas.
The rectilinear amphitheater might have originated in the well-established practice of installing theatrical spaces in the courtyards, chapel, and rooms of Castel Nuovo, where it had been the custom since the time of Alfonso I to erect temporary rectangular theaters for performances involving machines and ephemeral constructions, as well as those of major court artists and poets.78 Similar performances were also held in Castel Capuano, especially after the 1488 renovation, and in the residences of the local elites.79 The passion for all’antica theatrical representations in Naples is further shown by the ceremony of Alfonso’s coronation in the Duomo on 8 May 1494: for this large-scale spectacular event the new king commissioned the architect Francesco di Giorgio Martini to transform the cathedral into a vast all’antica theater, where wooden palchi would accommodate eight thousand spectators seated like “the ancient Romans in the theaters.”80 The description and plan of the coronation ceremony in the diary of Johannes Burchardus, the papal master of ceremonies, indicates that the theater was placed in the Duomo’s transept and had the structure of a rectangular amphitheater (Figure 13). Even though the shape of the Duomo’s theater was probably dictated by the constraints of the site, it is important to note the similarity of the all’antica theater in the cathedral to the ones designed by Giuliano for the royal palace and those built in Poggioreale and in the Duchesca.81
In addition to all’antica theatrical practices, the rectangular sunken courtyard surrounded by a colonnade common to the projects for the royal palace, Poggioreale, and the Duchesca may also have been inspired by Roman baths.82 A square courtyard surrounded by steps that descend into it similar to those of the Neapolitan projects is known through a sketch made by Francesco di Giorgio Martini around the same time, identified as the “Baths of Trajan” in Pozzuoli (Figure 14).83 Another thermal complex near Lake Averno located in the Phlegraean Fields west of Naples, shown in another drawing by the same architect, might also have influenced the two designs (Figure 15). The sketch outlines a rectangular plan with another rectangle, possibly a pool, roughly centered within it, with descending ramps and couches on one side, a setting that would have evoked Pliny’s description of the banquets in his Villa Tuscolana, where guests lay on beds around a marble basin filled with water and with floating plates.84 Such a thermal complex, together with the Plinian passage, might have furnished the ancient precedents for the setting of banquets in the courtyard at the Duchesca, where the duke and his friends, like ancient Romans, would eat lying around the water, and at Poggioreale, in what was identified as a coenatio (dining room) hidden in the gardens, where the hosts reclined on couches as they drank from goblets that floated on the water, every now and then surprised by sudden floods.85 Together with ancient literary sources, the baths in the Phlegraean Fields might have inspired the banquet described in one of Lorenzo’s poems, the Simposio, where the guests lie on couches and gaze in admiration at floating goblets.86
The therapeutic effects of the air and the thermal baths of the Phlegraean Fields had been renowned and celebrated since ancient times.87 Having never been abandoned throughout the Middle Ages, the various ancient thermal complexes of the area still preserved their original structure and decorations in the fifteenth century and were frequented by the Aragonese royal family, the local nobility, and their foreign guests.88The thermal pools and salubrious retreats of the Phlegraean Fields were illustrated by guides and celebrated in literary works by the court humanists, such as the collection of poems Baiae composed by Giovanni Pontano.89 The importance of these thermal pools, and of all’antica bathing at the Aragonese court, is evidenced by the illuminated copy commissioned in 1471 by Duke Alfonso of Pietro da Eboli’s De Balneis Puteolanis, an early thirteenth-century poem in Latin describing some thirty-five baths in the Bay of Pozzuoli and the diseases cured by each.90 The thermal baths are also found in rare bathing scenes represented in the illuminations of a manuscript produced in Naples in the 1470s.91 Here we find depictions of ancient baths such as Tritoli and Tripergole where all’antica bathers swim, rest, and change within colonnaded rooms or below barrel-vaulted halls completely covered with original hexagonal stucco coffers identical to the ones in Baia that attracted Francesco di Giorgio’s attention at the end of the fifteenth century.92It is easy to imagine that during one of his stays in Naples, Lorenzo might have seen one of the thermal complexes in the Phlegraean Fields. There he would have been able to bathe while appreciating the original architecture and stucco decoration of the building.93 Baths like the celebrated one at Tripergole, one of the royal family’s favorite sites, might have reminded him of a similar space divided into three rooms that Alberti describes in book 8 of the De re aedificatoria.94 In the same description of the thermal complex, Alberti includes a large courtyard surrounded by steps as if it were a theater. His description recalls not only the form but also the interplay of elements that are common to both ancient bath architecture and the sunken amphitheaters in the courtyards at the centers of the projects of the royal palace, Poggioreale, and the Duchesca.95 The new courtyard proposed for the royal palace and Poggioreale seems to be the result of a cultural mediation in which Lorenzo, thanks to his architectural skills and his direct knowledge of the customs of the Neapolitan elite, served as an interpreter between his architects working in Florence and the Neapolitan royal family.
Giuliano’s da Sangallo’s Study and Use of the Antiquities of the Kingdom of Naples
As shown by his drawings, Giuliano’s stay in Naples gave him time to study the thermal complexes of the Phlegraean Fields and other antiquities of the kingdom.96 According to Christian Hülsen’s reconstruction of the internal history of the Taccuino Senese and of the Vatican Codex Barberiniano, all the drawings of the antiquities of southern Italy relate to Giuliano’s visit to Naples in 1488.97 Even if some of the drawings in the Vatican Codex appear to be later in date, they are probably fair copies of sketches done during that visit. Furthermore, I would maintain that most of Sangallo’s studies of ancient monuments in the kingdom contained in the two codices, as well as a drawing in the Uffizi (UA 2045), reflect a desire to work out specific architectural problems that seem connected to his design of the royal palace. Several drawings of antiquities Giuliano executed during his stay in the kingdom may be linked to his need to define the details of the project. In this respect a small drawing in the bottom right corner of fol. 27 of the Taccuino Senese labeled “Le grade del Chuliseo da Chapua Vechia” illustrates the steps of the amphitheater in Santa Maria Maggiore Capua Vetere (Figure 16).98 This drawing is the earliest evidence we have for the study of one of the most important amphitheaters of the Roman Empire located on the original ancient site of Capua (i.e., before the city was refounded on a new site in the ninth century). We cannot be sure that Sangallo did not execute further drawings of the remains of this monumental structure, as he did, for example, for the Colosseum in Rome. The sketch reveals that the amphitheater stairs were an element of considerable interest for Sangallo when he visited the site. Giuliano may have seen this detail as a solution for the steps of the new theatrical courtyard in the royal palace, a solution that could also be used in Poggioreale, where the courtyard was under construction at the time.99
Similar to his focus on the steps of the Capuan amphitheater, Giuliano appears to have paid close attention to the profiles of the column bases of the now destroyed Temple of the Dioscuri in Naples. Despite the fact that he had before him a rare example of a still-standing ancient temple, he chose to focus on the detail of the base of the columns. In this case he was probably attracted by the peculiarity of a receding dentil between the upper scotia and the torus (Figure 17); such a detail was a variant of the attic base found very rarely that had been reused in the internal arch built by Ferrante at the entrance of Castel Nuovo. It is possible that Giuliano intended to propose this detail in the new reggia.100
It is possible that Sangallo brought a preliminary plan of the reggia with him corresponding to the one on fol. 39 of the Taccuino Senese, and that during his stay he began to transform it into a detailed design for execution, searching for solutions among the local antiquities that would enable him to define his project and make it more in line with Neapolitan taste. A trace of this way of proceeding seems to emerge from the royal palace plan on fol. 8r of the Codex Barberiniano, where the form of the palatine chapel reproposes the so-called Temple of the Cumean Sibyl on Lake Averno, drawn on the same page.101 Giuliano’s survey of the monument and its redeployment is significant as the first visual record that identifies the thermal baths on this site as the Temple of the Sibyl. It also reflects the interest in these ancient remains among the Aragonese literary elite, who regarded Lake Averno as the original site of the Sibyl’s grotto described by Virgil in book 6 of the Aeneid.102
The notable attention Giuliano devoted in his sketchbooks to mausoleums, thermal baths, and circular temples of the Kingdom of Naples may derive not only from his generic interest in central-plan buildings but also from the need he felt to define the form and aspect of the palatine chapel in the royal palace.Giuliano drew the main thermal baths and temples of the Phlegraean Fields (such as those on Lake Averno and in Cuma, Tripergole, the so-called Temple of Mercury, and the Temple of Venus in Baia) as well as the mausoleums he encountered on the road between Naples and Rome (such as that of Lucius Munatius Plancus in Gaeta).103 In this context, Giuliano’s Uffizi drawing UA 2045 recto (Figure 18) and verso seems essential to the study of centralized structures in the Kingdom of Naples.104 The sheet brings together drawings of centralized buildings and is probably a fair-copy compilation of drawings executed on-site. It may have functioned as a catalog of possible solutions to show a patron, in this case the king of Naples. On the verso we find two circular monuments on the Appian Way, the baths of Tripergole and the mausoleum known as Carceri Vecchie in Capua.105 On the recto Giuliano draws the purported study of the ancient Roman writer Marcus Terentius Varro near Cassino, the so-called temple of the Sibyl on Lake Averno and at the center of the sheet, an octagonal temple in “Capoa vecia” (see Figure 18).106 The latter seems to have particularly interested Sangallo, who not only drew the plan but also attempted to reconstruct the building’s original appearance on both the exterior and interior.107 The outside of the monument is marked by shell niches separated by projecting columns and surmounted by an octagonal drum. The temple terminates in a dome and an octagonal lantern above decorated with pilasters and topped by a conical roof surmounted by a ball. In the interior, columns on high pedestals separate the eight bays, which bear alternating pedimented doors and aedicules in the fascia connecting the capitals.
In the fifteenth century several ancient circular buildings survived in the area; evidence comes from drawings by later antiquarians and architects who visited the area just after Giuliano. He would not have failed to note how ancient circular constructions similar to the ones he had seen in the ancient Capua, in the Phlegraean Fields, and along the Appian Way had already provided models for new buildings at the beginning of the fifteenth century, such as the Caracciolo del Sole Chapel (ca. 1428–42), built behind the high altar of the monumental Church of San Giovanni a Carbonara in Naples.108 In addition, the triumphal arches that were still visible at the time, such as the Arch of Marcus Antonius at Aquino and the Arch of Trajan at Benevento, encouraged Sangallo’s personal interest in this type of building. Trajan’s arch in Benevento had already served as a model for the arch at the entrance of Castel Nuovo, and the ample array of figural reliefs with which it was covered could have provided Giuliano with a repertory of images for reuse on the attics of the external and interior façades of the new royal palace, reinforcing the connection between the Aragonese royal family and the Spanish-born Roman emperor who had been at the center of Alfonso I’s cultural propaganda.109
He may have been aware as well that in proposing an atrium with three naves for the Neapolitan reggia, he was not only attempting a re-creation of the entrance of the ancient domus but also introducing an element that would be familiar to the Aragonese royal family. This type of atrium had strong connections to an ancient element in the so-called Villa of Cicero in Formia (Figure 19), a building very well known at the Neapolitan court, given that it featured in one of the exemplary episodes recounted by Panormita in his life of Alfonso.110 The use of a structure of this type within the new royal palace would have therefore been extremely familiar to King Ferrante and Duke Alfonso.
Traces of Giuliano’s Activities in Naples
Giuliano not only studied the monumental buildings of antiquity in the kingdom but also visited the palaces of the Neapolitan elite. This is clear from the drawings of the Bacchic relief divided between fol. 11v and fol. 28 in the Taccuino Senese (Figure 20), which can be identified with a marble relief originally in the collection of Diomede Carafa and transferred to the Vatican Museums in the eighteenth century (Figure 21).111 Carafa’s notable collection of antiquities was already familiar to Lorenzo de’ Medici, who had personally contributed to its growth through the gift of important pieces, such as a colossal bronze of a horse’s head sculpted by Donatello and seven ancient bronze statues.112
On his visits to Neapolitan private collections, Giuliano would have been held in esteem as as an expert on antiquities. This is made evident by a letter of 24 May 1488 sent by Francesco Nacci, the head of the Medici branch in Naples, to Niccolò Michelozzi in Florence.113 The letter references a plan to show Giuliano the torso of an ancient statue that had come to light in the ancient center of Naples during work on the palace of the Count of Venafro, Scipione Pandone.114 The intent in showing the torso to the architect was to get him to comment on the quality of the piece and advise on the possibility of sending it as a gift to Lorenzo. This letter is important for several reasons. Even if we know that at the beginning of May 1488 Giuliano had already left Naples, the letter suggests that he was probably expected to return soon to the capital of the kingdom.115 Furthermore, it demonstrates that Giuliano’s antiquarian knowledge was already held in high regard long before the more famous incident in Rome where he was called upon, together with Michelangelo, to identify the newly excavated sculpture of the Laocoön unearthed in 1506.116 It also clearly reveals that he was in Naples in the role of a cultural ambassador for Lorenzo and was in close contact with both the members of the Neapolitan elite families and the Florentine community living in Naples, who shared commercial as well as antiquarian interests.
It was in the kingdom’s capital that Sangallo befriended the Florentine merchant and banker Giuliano Gondi. The Gondi had run the leading branch of their family-owned bank in Naples for more than two generations.117 Gondi would become one of Giuliano’s major patrons in Florence, and both his palace and his chapel in Santa Maria Novella bear unequivocally Neapolitan features.118 In particular those elements that have hitherto been considered backward-looking or unusual in the Florentine Renaissance context, such as the external staircase in the palace courtyard and the chapel’s lateral benches, can be easily explained as the result of a specific request from the patron to draw on the current leading fashions in residential architecture and funerary sculpture among the kingdom’s elite classes. Gondi had long been familiar with these fashions, and Sangallo would have found out about them during his stay in Naples.119 Like Sangallo’s design for the palace for the king of Naples, his work for Gondi demonstrates not only how architecture, as well as sculpture, was the result of a cultural exchange involving both patron and architect but also how Neapolitan features could be reinterpreted by a Florentine patron and architect in a Florentine context.
If on one hand Sangallo exported Neapolitan architecture to Florence, on the other the legacy he left in Naples was notable. We do not know if Giuliano ever returned to the kingdom, but his name has been linked significantly to the two major chapels built in the capital in the following decades, the Succorpo commissioned by Oliviero Carafa in the cathedral (1497–1508) and the Caracciolo di Vico chapel in the Church of San Giovanni a Carbonara (1507–13).120 Both chapels show relevant parallels with other works and drawings by Sangallo, suggesting that his language continued to influence Neapolitan Renaissance architecture, whether through his direct intervention during a possible later return to the kingdom, by means of his drawings that were sent there, or through the legacy he left after his 1488 sojourn.
In particular the plan of the Succorpo, divided into three naves by two rows of three standing columns, closely recalls the atrium Giuliano designed for the palace of the king of Naples. Such an innovative feature finds a close parallel with the reconstruction of the ancient domus designed by Fra Giocondo da Verona, who published the plan in his 1511 edition of Vitruvius’s De architectura but had probably conceived it already during his sojourn in the kingdom between 1488 and 1494 (Figure 22).121 Both the Succorpo and Giocondo’s reconstruction of the Roman domus are based on a deep understanding of the ancient model found in the so-called Ninfeo of Cicerone at Formia, the same model Giuliano used in designing the atrium of the palace for the king of Naples. In Fra Giocondo’s domus the sequence of spaces formed by the atrium, with its three aisles, open courtyard, and chapel, appears to be very close to Giuliano’s project for the palace.
Unfortunately, no evidence survives of a meeting between Sangallo and Fra Giocondo before the former returned to Tuscany, but the relation between their two designs is our best proof of the fact that Giuliano’s presence in Naples proved extremely fruitful. Even if the project for the king’s palace was never executed, the drawings and the model that he left in the city after his departure would have been objects of study and sources of inspiration for the architects who came to work in the capital. Given Giuliano’s Albertian culture and knowledge of ancient architecture, his stay in Naples would have significantly contributed to and shaped the ongoing antiquarian and architectural debates that were taking place in the Neapolitan court. When Fra Giocondo and Francesco di Giorgio arrived in the kingdom shortly after Sangallo’s departure, they would have found a humanistic ambience in which the antiquarian and philological problems that interested them were already being discussed.122
The project for Ferrante of Aragon’s royal palace, far from being designed spontaneously in Florence by the ingenious mind of Giuliano da Sangallo and then sent to Naples, where it was passively received, was in fact the concluding episode of a long story of architectural exchange and diplomatic relationships between Naples and Florence. As we have seen, the main ancient models for Ferrante’s palace were Neapolitan: the courtyard and the Gran Sala drew upon the pools and thermal baths of the Phlegraean Fields, and the palatine chapel was inspired by the circular temples and mausoleums of Campania; furthermore, the atrium derived not only from a reading of Vitruvius but also from Cicero’s villa in Formia. These southern models were subsequently translated into modern projects in Florence and influenced buildings that were then in the course of construction, such as Poggio a Caiano, with its basis villae and sala covered by an all’antica barrel vault. When they returned to Naples, these design ideas were once again readapted, as in the new studies carried out by Sangallo, who examined the kingdom’s antiquities with the aim of resolving specific aspects of his project.
In this context, Sangallo’s design for the royal palace should not be examined in isolation, but should be seen as part of a shared reflection on an architectural theme that developed in Florence between Lorenzo and his two favorite architects, Giuliano da Maiano and Giuliano da Sangallo, and as a response to the ceremonial requirements and cultural influence of the Neapolitan royal family. The idea of a courtyard conceived as a rectangular amphitheater is found with slight variations according to the different contexts in which it was used: a royal palace, a suburban villa (Poggioreale), and the luxurious dépendence of a castle (Duchesca). This particular feature, derived from southern models, elaborated in Florence, and newly developed in Naples, was later reexported in projects commissioned by Lorenzo de’ Medici’s son Pope Leo X. It can be seen first in Rome in the theater on the Capitoline Hill created in 1513 to celebrate the Roman citizenship of the pope’s brother Giuliano de’ Medici and his nephew Lorenzo, and later in Florence, where around 1515 Sangallo adapted the design of the Naples royal palace to the design of a colossal residential palace in Via Laura (see Figures 11 and 12). Furthermore Giuliano’s experience of rethinking the spaces of Castel Nuovo in a new functional and all’antica palace would have been useful for Leo X’s new palace on Piazza Navona, where he organized a papal apartment outside the Vatican.123
While neither the palace for Ferrante in Naples nor the ones for the Medici in Florence and in Rome were built, Giuliano’s stay in the Aragonese capital produced notable results. On his departure from Naples, he left behind a cultural legacy that would be taken up immediately by Fra Giocondo and Francesco di Giorgio Martini. Apart from the gifts from the royal family, he brought to Florence sketchbooks and cases full of drawings of the antiquities he had seen in the south, fresh cultural and architectural influences, and new, important personal contacts.124 For example, it was in Naples that he met Giuliano Gondi, a Florentine who had resided in Naples and who became one of his major patrons in Florence. In the projects for Gondi, Giuliano exploited features that might have appeared eccentric or out-of-date in Florence but that evoked the contemporary fashions of the Aragonese elite, which his patron Gondi would have recognized and appreciated. An important episode in the long diplomatic and cultural exchanges between the Aragonese and the Medici, Giuliano’s trip to Naples opened the way to new cultural and architectural relationships whose innovative results would mark the subsequent history of Renaissance architecture.
The research leading to the results reported in this article received funding from the European Research Council under the European Community’s Seventh Framework Programme (FP7/2007–2013)/ERC Grant agreement no. 263549, HistAntArtSI project, principal investigator Bianca de Divitiis. I would like to thank Howard Burns, Francesco Caglioti, Dario Donetti, Caroline Elam, Sabine Frommel, Luciana Jacobelli, Fulvio Lenzo, Veronica Mele, Lorenzo Miletti, Linda Pellecchia, Richard Schofield, and Francesco Senatore. I am also grateful to Stephen Parkin for revising my English manuscript.
The three drawings are Biblioteca Comunale di Siena, Cod. S.IV.8, fol. 17; Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Codice Vaticano Barberiniano Latino 4424, fols. 8–39. The fundamental work on the Taccuino Senese (Biblioteca Comunale di Siena, Cod. S.IV.8, hereafter Taccuino Senese) and on the Codice Barberiniano (Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Codice Vaticano Barberiniano Latino 4424, hereafter Codice Barberiniano) is still Christian Hülsen, Il libro di Giuliano da Sangallo: Codice Vaticano Barberiniano Latino 4424, 2 vols. (Leipzig: Harrassowitz, 1910). For the dating of the Taccuino Senese, see Hülsen, Il libro di Giuliano, app. 3. See also Cornelius von Fabriczy, Die Handzeichnungen Giulianos da Sangallo: Kritisches Verzeichnis (Stuttgart: Gerschel, 1902), 72–93; Arnold Nesselrath, “I libri di disegni di antichità: Tentativo di una tipologia,” in Memoria dell’antico nell’arte italiana, ed. Salvatore Settis (Turin: Einaudi, 1986), 127–29; Hartmut Biermann, “Palast und Villa: Theorie und Praxis in Giuliano da Sangallos Codex Barberini und im Taccuino Senese,” in Les traités d’architecture de la Renaissance, ed. Jean Guillaume (Paris: Picard, 1988), 135–50; Sabine Frommel, “I disegni di Giuliano da Sangallo: Relazioni tra studio dell’antico e progettazione,” Opus Incertum 3 (2010), 12–27; Stefano Borsi, Giuliano da Sangallo: Disegni di architettura e dell’antico (Rome: Officina, 1985), 251–314; Dario Donetti, “Le ‘Antichità greche’ di Giuliano da Sangallo: Erudizione e rovinismo nel Libro dei Disegni, Codice Barberiniano Latino 4424,” in Les ruines: Entre destruction et construction de l’antiquité à nos jours, ed. Karolina Kaderka (Rome: Campisano, 2013), 85–93. See also Sabine Frommel, Giuliano da Sangallo (Florence: Edifir, 2014), 82–86.
On Giuliano da Sangallo and Lorenzo de’ Medici, see Manfredo Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento: Principi, città, architetti (Turin: Einaudi, 1992), 58–60; Francis William Kent, Lorenzo de’ Medici and the Art of Magnificence (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2004).
Giuliano would later design for the Medici the temporary theater on the Capitoline Hill of 1513; the palace in Via Laura, dated to the second decade of the sixteenth century; and Pope Leo X’s new palace on Piazza Navona. On the theater on the Capitoline Hill, see Arnaldo Bruschi, “Il teatro Capitolino del 1513,” Bollettino del Centro Internazionale di Studi di Architettura Andrea Palladio 16 (1974), 189–218. Giuliano’s project for Via Laura has been convincingly dated by Caroline Elam to the years after 1512, when the Medici returned from exile, and was probably a Laurentian design revived by Leo X. See Caroline Elam, “Lorenzo de’ Medici: Urban Development in Renaissance Florence,” Art History 1 (1978), 44–66. Following Elam’s dating, Linda Pellecchia has hypothesized that the project was designed around the time of Leo’s entrance into Florence in 1515. Linda Pellecchia, “Reconstructing the Greek House: Giuliano da Sangallo’s Villa for the Medici in Florence,” JSAH 52, no. 3 (1993), 323–38; Linda Pellecchia, “Designing the Via Laura Palace: Giuliano da Sangallo, the Medici, and the Time,” in Lorenzo the Magnificent: Culture and Politics, ed. Michael Mallett and Nicholas Mann (London: Warburg Institute, 1996), 37–48. For a dating of the project prior to Lorenzo’s death in 1492, see Gaetano Miarelli Mariani, “Il disegno per il complesso mediceo di Via Laura a Firenze: Un significativo intervento urbano prefigurato da Giuliano da Sangallo,” Palladio 22 (1972), 127–62. On Giuliano’s palace on Piazza Navona testified to by the drawing in the Uffizi UA 7949A, see Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento, 97–115. Giuliano inscribed some of the drawings in his sketchbook with “M. L.” as if to indicate the commission of the “Magnifico Lorenzo”—that is, Lorenzo de’ Medici. For these drawings, see Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento, 95.
On the project of the palace for the king of Naples, see Heinrich von Geymüller, Die Architektur der Renaissance in Toscana (Munich: Bruckman, 1885–1909); Gustave Clausse, Les Sangallo (Paris: Leroux, 1900), 109–12; Roberto Pane, Architettura del Rinascimento in Napoli (Naples: Politecnica, 1937), 35–36; Giuseppe Marchini, Giuliano da Sangallo (Florence: Sansoni, 1942); George L. Hersey, Alfonso II and the Artistic Renewal of Naples, 1485–1495 (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1969), 75–81; Roberto Pane, Il Rinascimento nell’Italia meridionale, 2 vols. (Milan: Edizioni Comunità, 1975–77), 1:84–87; Hartmut Biermann, “Das Palastmodell Giuliano da Sangallos für Ferdinand I, König von Neapel,” Wiener Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschicte 23 (1970), 154–95; Hartmut Biermann and Elmar Worgull, “Das Palastmodell Giuliano da Sangallos für Ferdinand I, König von Neapel,” Jahrbuch der Berliner Museen 21 (1979), 91–118; Biermann, “Palast und Villa”; Caroline Elam, “Art and Diplomacy in Renaissance Florence,” Journal of the Royal Society of Arts 136 (1988), 813–25; Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento, 94–95; Cesare De Seta, “The Urban Structure of Naples: Utopia and Reality,” in Italian Renaissance Architecture from Brunelleschi to Michelangelo, ed. Henry A. Millon (London: Thames and Hudson, 1994), 358–60; David Hemsoll, “Giuliano da Sangallo and the new Renaissance of Lorenzo de’ Medici,” in The Early Medici and Their Artists, ed. Francis Ames-Lewis (London: Birkbeck College, University of London, 1995), 187–205; Pellecchia, “Reconstructing the Greek House”; Linda Pellecchia, “Architects Read Vitruvius: Renaissance Interpretation of the Atrium of the Ancient House,” JSAH 51, no. 4 (1992), 377–416; Pier Nicola Pagliara, “Giamberti, Giuliano, detto Giuliano da Sangallo,” in Dizionario biografico degli Italiani (Rome: Istituto della Enciclopedia Italiana, 1960–) (hereafter DBI), vol. 54 (2000), 93–99; Sabine Frommel, “Due progetti per ville del Codice Barberiniano,” in Il principe architetto, ed. Arturo Calzona et al. (Florence: Olschki, 2002), 413–54; Cammy Brothers, “Giuliano da Sangallo: Palazzo per il re di Napoli,” in Andrea Palladio e la Villa Veneta da Petrarca a Carlo Scarpa, ed. Guido Beltramini et al. (Venice: Marsilio, 2005), 232–35; S. Frommel, Giuliano da Sangallo, 82–86.
For an axonometric reconstruction that includes an interior section, see Biermann, “Das Palastmodell”; Biermann and Worgull, “Das Palastmodell”; Biermann, “Palast und Villa.”
In the 1970s George Hersey and Roberto Pane connected Giuliano’s project to the law courts mentioned by Pietro Summonte in 1524 in his letter to Marc’Antonio Michiel on the state of the arts in Naples. Hersey, Alfonso II, 75–81; Pane, Il Rinascimento, 1:84–87. Cesare De Seta later also followed this hypothesis. De Seta, “The Urban Structure.” On the letter, see Antonio Niccolini, L’arte napoletana del Rinascimento e la lettera di P. Summonte a M. A. Michiel (Naples: Ricciardi, 1925), 174; Pane, Il Rinascimento, 1:63–95.
For a discussion of recent trends in the history of diplomacy referring to the Italian Renaissance states, see Isabella Lazzarini, “Italian Diplomacy,” in The Italian Renaissance State, ed. Daniele Gamberini and Isabella Lazzarini (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 425–43. On a new approach to diplomatic practice in Italy, including the Kingdom of Naples, see Isabella Lazzarini, “Il gesto diplomatico fra comunicazione politica, grammatica delle emozioni, linguaggio delle scritture (Italia, XV secolo),” in Iconografia del gesto: Forme della comunicazione non verbale dall’antico al moderno, ed. M. Salvadori (Rome: Quasar, 2009), 75–93. On the use of art and architecture in diplomatic relations, see Elam, “Art and Diplomacy.”
Elam, “Art and Diplomacy.” On Renaissance games relating to architecture, see Howard Burns, “Il ‘Giuoco del Pallagio: Il palazzo nella letteratura e nella trattatistica italiana del Quattrocento,” in Edilizia privata nella Verona rinascimentale, ed. Paola Lanaro et al. (Milan: Electa, 2000), 234–51.
On the role of the ambassador, see Lazzarini, “Italian Diplomacy,” 432–39.
No further evidence has emerged to support the suggestion that Giuliano da Sangallo was in Naples in 1483, when he was paid for executing the Adoration of the Magi for the sacristy of the Church of the Annunziata. Gaetano Filangieri, Documenti per la storia, le arti e le industrie delle province napoletane, 6 vols. (Naples: Società Napoletana di Storia Patria, 1891), 6:416.
“A Juliano de Sangallo, architettore fiorentino: cento ducati correnti, lo Illustrissimo Signor Ducha de Calabria li comanda dare graciosamente: duc. C.” See Erasmo Percopo, Nuovi documenti su gli scrittori e gli artisti dei tempi aragonesi, ed. Mario del Treppo (Naples: Società Napoletana di Storia Patria, 1997), 316; Cornelius von Fabriczy, “Giuliano da Sangallo,” Jahrbuch der Preussischen Kunstsammlungen 33 (1902), 4.
“QUESTA E LA PIANTA DUNO MODELO DUNO PALAZO CHEL MAGNIFICHO LORENZO DE MEDICI MANDO A RE FERN[AN]DO DI NAPOLI E IO GIULIANO DA S[AN] G[ALL] POI[C]HE IO LEBBI FINITO ANADAI COLO M[ODELLO] SOPRA DETO / LE BRACA DA MISURARE / FU NEL MCCCCLXXXVIII.” Codice Barberiniano, fol. 39v.
On the Taccuino Senese and the Codice Barberiniano, see note 2.
The libro-piccolo is an older sketchbook, dated between 1488 and 1494, that Giuliano later enlarged by gluing parchment strips onto the smaller pages so that its dimensions would match the rest of the Vatican Codex. On the dating, see Hülsen, Il libro di Giuliano. The inscription at the center of the courtyard, “M. L.,” standing for “Magnifico Lorenzo,” could be interpreted as a first attempt to record Lorenzo’s gift, later developed into the long inscription at the bottom of the drawing on fol. 39. On the drawings inscribed “M. L.,” see Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento, 95.
On the autobiographical character of the Codice Barberiniano, see Nesselrath, “I libri di disegni di antichità,” 128. See also Pagliara, “Giamberti, Giuliano”; Donetti, “Le ‘antichità greche’ di Giuliano da Sangallo.”
For a discussion of the villa of Poggio a Caiano and its complete bibliography see Howard Burns, “Ville e residenze di campagna nel Rinascimento italiano,” in Il Rinascimento italiano e l’Europa: Luoghi, spazi, architetture, ed. Donatella Calabi and Elena Svalduz (Treviso: Angelo Colla, 2010), 465–545.
M. Vitruvius per Iocundum solito castigatior factus cum figuris et tabula ut iam legi et intellegi possit (Venetiis: Joannis Tacuino, 1511).
Pellecchia, “Reconstructing the Greek House”; Pellecchia, “Architects Read Vitruvius”; Georgia Clarke, Roman House—Renaissance Palaces: Inventing Antiquity in Fifteenth-Century Italy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 105–25; Pierre Gros, “La domus romana e la casa di città secondo Andrea Palladio,” in Palladio e l’antico (Venice: Marsilio, 2006), 65–81.
Amedeo Belluzzi, “Chiese a pianta central di Giuliano da Sangallo,” in Lorenzo il Magnifico e il suo mondo, ed. Gian Carlo Garfagnini (Florence: Olschki, 1994), 385–406.
For the comparison with the Palace of Maecenas, see Cammy Brothers, “Reconstruction as Design: Giuliano da Sangallo and the ‘palazzo di Mecenate’ on the Quirinal,” Annali di architettura 14 (2002), 65–68.
Relevant examples of rulers’ residences would have been the Topkapı Palace in Constantinople, the Ducal Palace of Urbino, and the Villa dell’Imperatore at Pesaro. See the section of this article headed “Sangallo’s Palace Plan, Castel Nuovo, and Other Royal Residences.”
“Ferdinandus Rex quum regiam sibi aedificare in animo haberet, a Laurentio futuri aedificii formam petiit et accepit.” Laurentii Medicei Vita a Nicolao Valorio scripta, ed. Laurentius Mehus (Florence: Paolo Giovannelli, 1749), 63.
Vladimir Juren, “Le projet de Giuliano da Sangallo pour le palais du roi de Naples,” Revue de l’art 25 (1974), 66–70; Marta Privitera, Girolamo Macchietti: Un pittore dello studiolo di Francesco I (1535–1592) (Milan: Jandi Sapi, 2005), 178–79.
“Bernardino, canzelero del S. Duca de Calabria, se partiti heri matina, che fu 29 agosto: ha lassato la copia qui de li processi contra li baroni, et menò due bellissime mulle al M.co Lorenzo; quale Lorenzo fa uno modello a la M.tà Re de uno [pala]zo, ch’el dice voler fare per habitare Sua M.tà in Napolli, per non volere stare in ca[stello].” Carlo De Frede, “Lorenzo de’ Medici, il ‘processo’ dei Petrucci e del Coppola e un progetto di palazzo reale in Napoli per Ferrante d’Aragona,” Archivio Storico di Terra di Lavoro 19 (2002), 70. Unless otherwise noted, all translations are my own.
Ernesto Pontieri, “La ‘guerra dei baroni’ napoletani e di Innocenzo VIII contro Ferrante d’Aragona in dispacci della Diplomazia Fiorentina,” Archivio Storico per le Province Napoletane 88 (1970–71), 197–347; 89 (1971–72), 117–77; 90 (1972–73), 197–254; 91 (1973–74), 211–45; Ernesto Pontieri, La dinastia aragonese di Napoli e la casa de’ Medici di Firenze (Naples: Miccoli, 1942), 18–19. See Lorenzo’s letters of the period: Lorenzo de’ Medici, Lettere, 11 vols. (Florence: Giunti, 1977–), vols. 8–9 ed. Humphrey Butters (2001–2), vol. 10 ed. M. M. Bullard (2003).
“ABBREUIATURA dello processo formato et inquisitione per li Commissarij deputati per la Maestà dello Signore Rè Don Ferrando de Aragona Rè della Gran Sicilia, contra di Messere Antonello de Petrucijs olim Secretario della dicta Maestà. Et de Missere Francesco de Petrucijs olim Conte de Carinola. Et di Missere Johanne Antonio de Petrucijs olim Conte de Policastro, figlioli dello dicto Missere Antonello de Petrucijs. Et de Missere Francesco Coppala olim Conte de Sarno. Consileri della prefata Maiestà.” Two further editions were produced, in June 1488 and on 17 December 1488, updated with the parts of the trial that had taken place after the first edition. See Marco Santoro, La stampa a Napoli nel Quattrocento (Naples: Istituto Nazionale di Studi sul Rinascimento Meridionale, 1984), 143–44; Mariano Fava and Giovanni Bresciano, La stampa a Napoli nel XV secolo, 2 vols. (Leipzig: R. Haupt, 1911–13), 2:60–61. See also De Frede, “Lorenzo de’ Medici,” 73–80.
Elam, “Art and Diplomacy,” 820.
On previous Medicean gifts relating to architecture, see Francesco Caglioti, “Bernardo Rossellino a Roma: I. Stralci dal carteggio mediceo (e qualche briciola su Filarete),” Prospettiva 64 (1991), 49–59.
“Per il che fu consigliato Giuliano da Lorenzo Vecchio a presentarlo egli stesso, acciò che in tal modello potesse mostrare le difficultà che in esso aveva fatto. Laonde partì per Napoli, e presentato l’opera, onoratamente fu ricevuto non con meno stupore de lo averlo il magnifico Lorenzo mandato con tanto garbata maniera, quanto con maraviglia per lo magisterio de l’opera nel modello.” Giorgio Vasari, “Vita di Giuliano e Antonio da San Gallo,” in Le vite de’ più eccellenti pittori,scultori e architettori nelle redazioni del 1550 e 1568, ed. Paola Barocchi and Rosanna Bettarini, 6 vols. (Florence: Sansoni, 1976), 4:135–36.
Vasari, “Vita di Giuliano,” 4:135–36.
Cornelius von Fabriczy, “Progetto di Giuliano da Sangallo per un palazzo a Milano,” Rassegna d’arte 3 (1903), 5–6; Roberta Martinis, “Il palazzo del Banco mediceo: Edilizia e arte della diplomazia a Milano nel XV secolo,” Annali di storia dell’architettura 15 (2003), 37–57.
On Castel Capuano, see Bianca de Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo and Castel Capuano in Naples: The Transformation of Two Medieval Castles into ‘All’antica’ Residences for the Aragonese Royals,” Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschicte 76 (2013), 441–74. See also Bianca de Divitiis, “Castel Capuano durante il periodo aragonese: Da castello medievale a palazzo principesco,” in Castelcapuano, ed. Fabio Mangone (Naples: Massa, 2011), 32–41; Franco Strazzullo, “Lavori eseguiti in Castel Capuano nell’anno 1488 per conto del Duca di Calabria,” Napoli Nobilissima, 3rd ser., 14 (1975), 143–50; Francesco Quinterio, Giuliano da Maiano, “grandissimo domestico” (Rome: Officina, 1996), 425–27. On the Duchesca, see Antonio Colombo, “Il palazzo e il giardino della Duchesca,” Archivio Storico per le Province Napoletane 9 (1884), 563–64. On the villa Poggioreale, see Pane, Architettura, 15–24; Christoph Liutpold Frommel, Die Farnesina und Peruzzis architektonisches Frühwerk (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1961), 90–97; Franco Strazzullo, “Documenti per il palazzo e i giardini di Poggioreale,” Asprenas 10 (1963), 103–11; Hersey, Alfonso II, 58–70; Anthony Blunt, “The Architecture of the Italian Renaissance,” Burlington Magazine 113 (1971), 406–10; George L. Hersey, “Poggioreale: Notes on a Reconstruction, and an Early Replication,” Architectura 3, no. 1 (1973), 13–21; Fritz Eugen Keller, “Die Zeichnung Uff. 363A von Baldassarre Peruzzi und das Bad von Poggio Reale,” Architectura 3, no. 1 (1973), 22–35; Anthony Blunt, Architettura barocca e rococò a Napoli (1975; repr., Milan: Electa, 2006), 27–28; Pane, Il Rinascimento, 2:35–57; Adriano Ghisetti Giavarina, “Baldassarre Peruzzi a Napoli e la villa di Poggioreale,” Napoli Nobilissima, 3rd ser., 33 (1984), 17–24; David Marshall, “A View of Poggioreale by Viviano Codazzi and Domenico Gargiulo,” JSAH 45 (1986), 32–46; Christof Liutpold Frommel, “Poggioreale: Problemi di ricostruzione e tipologia,” in Giuliano e la bottega dei da Maiano (Florence: Octavo, 1994), 104–11; Quinterio, Giuliano, 438–69; Cettina Lenza, “Dal modello al rilievo: La villa di Poggioreale in una pianta della collezione di Pierre-Adrien Pâris,” Napoli Nobilissima, 5th ser., 5 (2004), 177–88; Bruce L. Edelstein, “ ‘Acqua Viva e Corrente’: Private Display and Public Distribution of Fresh Water at the Neapolitan Villa of Poggioreale as a Hydraulic Model for Sixteenth-Century Medici Gardens,” in Artistic Exchange and Cultural Translation in the Italian Renaissance City, ed. Stephen J. Campbell and Stephen J. Milner (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 187–220; Gennaro Toscano, “La Villa de Poggio Reale et un relevé inédit de Pierre-Adrien Pâris,” Journal de la Renaissance 3 (2005), 165–75; Fulvio Lenzo, “Aggiornamento,” in Blunt, Architettura, 271. The most complete and updated work on Poggioreale, including newly found eighteenth-century drawings of the villa, is Paola Modesti, Le delizie ritrovate: Poggioreale e la villa del Rinascimento nella Napoli aragonese (Florence: Olschki, 2014). See also Fulvio Lenzo, “Philibert De l’Orme et les architectures antiques et modernes du royaume de Naples,” Revue de l’art 188 (2015), 41–47.
Giuseppe Ceci, “Nuovi documenti su Giuliano da Maiano ed altri artisti,” Archivio Storico per le Province Napoletane 29 (1904), 784–92.
Hersey, Alfonso II, 44–57; Quinterio, Giuliano, 138–48.
In the period 1485–87 the Aragonese Kingdom of Naples was the protagonist of an internal crisis that saw opposed to the crown some of the major barons, supported by members inside the court and by Pope Innocent VIII. This conspiracy is known as the Second Barons’ Revolt, to distinguish it from an earlier revolt among barons that took place after the death of Alfonso I of Aragon, from 1459 to 1462. The participation of the pope in the Second Barons’ Revolt spread the conspiracy beyond the borders of the kingdom, transforming it for a period into a conflict of larger dimension and involving the major Italian powers. Even if the first “active” phase of the Second Barons’ Revolt ended in August 1486, followed by executions and arrests of the main conspirators and the confiscation of their properties, an agreement between the pope and the king was reached only in 1492. As Elisabetta Scarton has pointed out, the issues that led the feudal barons to rise were manifold, but they can be summarized as follows: the exhaustion of the kingdom from fighting many wars, which dried up the financial resources of the king and his subjects; the fiscal reforms that the court attempted to implement from 1481 to 1484 to increase revenues; and the centralizing attitude shown by the sovereign and supported by his son Alfonso. Elisabetta Scarton, “La congiura dei baroni e la sorte dei ribelli,” in Poteri, relazioni, guerra nel regno di Ferrante d’Aragona: Studi sulle corrispondenze diplomatiche, ed. Francesco Senatore and Francesco Storti (Naples: Cliopress, 2011), 213–90. Fundamental texts on the Second Barons’ Revolt are Camillo Porzio, La congiura de’ baroni nel Regno di Napoli contra il re Ferdinando I (Naples: Gaetano Nobile, 1859); Pontieri, “La ‘guerra dei baroni’ napoletani.”
On Porta Capuana, see Quinterio, Giuliano, 361–75. On the Bolla aqueduct, see Antonella Riccio, “L’antico acquedotto della Bolla,” in L’acqua e l’architettura: Acquedotti e fontane nel regno di Napoli, ed. Francesco Starace (Lecce: Edizione del Grifo, 2002), 115–79. On the foundation of the new church of Santa Maria dei Martiri, see Giuliana Vitale, Ritualità monarchica, cerimonie e pratiche devozionali nella Napoli aragonese (Salerno: Carlone 2006), 222–24; de Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 462–63. After the destruction of Santa Maria dei Martiri, the relics of the martyrs of Otranto were transferred to the Church of Santa Caterina a Formiello, begun in 1519. See Hersey, Alfonso II, 72.
Joampiero Leostello da Volterra, “Effemeridi delle cose fatte per il Duca di Calabria (1484–1491),” in Filangieri, Documenti, 1:132: “Die XVII (febbraio) lo I. S. Duca cavalco con lo S. Re et annarono a caccia a Cuma. Eodem die se ne andarono a Napoli per fermo. Et sua I. S. comincio a dare ordine a fare fabrica et mando per messer Juliano designatore a Fiorenze.”
For a list of the movements of King Ferrante and Alfonso, Duke of Calabria, in the period 1485–86, see ibid., 94–117. See also Elisabetta Scarton, “Itinerari di Ferrante d’Aragona e di Alfonso duca di Calabria,” appendix to Corrispondenza di Giovanni Lanfredini, 1485–1486, ed. Elisabetta Scarton (Salerno: Carlone, 2002), 748–67. On the travels of the Aragonese royals, see Francesco Senatore, “L’itinérance degli aragonesi di Napoli,” in L’itinérance des seigneurs (XIVe–XVIe siècles), ed. Agostino Paravicini Bagliani et al. (Lausanne: Université de Lausanne, 2003), 275–325.
On Alfonso’s donation of bullocks for Poggio a Caiano, see Kent, Lorenzo de’ Medici, 137n162. For the dating of the construction of Poggio a Caiano, see ibid., 135–38.
While in Santa Maria di Loreto, he commissioned a silver ex-voto for his brother, who was ill at the time in Naples. Leostello, “Effemeridi,” 116; Scarton, “Itinerari,” 767.
On Santa Maria di Loreto, see Eva Renzulli, “Pellegrini, pellegrinaggi e santuari cristiani,” in Calabi and Svalduz, Il Rinascimento italiano, 687–700, 820–22.
Leostello, “Effemeridi,” 117; Scarton, “Itinerari,” 767. On Giulianova, see Mario Bevilacqua, Giulianova: La costruzione di una città ideale del Rinascimento (Naples: Electa, 2002); Mario Bevilacqua, “Senigallia, Loreto, Giulianova: Fondazioni e rifondazioni nel Quattrocento adriatico,” in L’ambizione di essere città: Piccoli, grandi centri nell’Italia rinascimentale, ed. Elena Svalduz (Venice: Istituto Veneto di Scienze, Lettere ed Arti, 2004), 214–30.
Leostello, “Effemeridi,” 117–29.
On these payments, see Cornelius von Fabriczy, “Toscanische und oberitalienische Künstler in Diensten der Aragonesen zu Neapel,” Repertorium für Kunstwissenschaft 20 (1897), 87; Percopo, Nuovi documenti, 97; Quinterio, Giuliano, 331–48.
On 30 August 1487 Alfonso paid the hosteria where Giuliano da Maiano stayed for some days, probably on his way from Florence to Naples. Percopo, Nuovi documenti, 97. On 29 August 1487 Biasino d’Antonio Castruzzo was paid twenty-five ducats “per vettura de duy modellj a portati de Fiorenza a Napoli per disegno de uno palazo.” Fabriczy, “Toscanische,” 87–88. On the basis of an account given by Luca Pacioli in De divina proportione (1497, printed in Venice in 1509) and of a letter sent by the Florentine ambassador Baccio Ugolini to Lorenzo de’ Medici, dated 17 May 1489, this payment has been connected to a model of Poggioreale, to which Lorenzo might have personally contributed. Scritti rinascimentali di architettura, ed. Arnaldo Bruschi (Milan: Il Polifilo, 1978), 25–49, 123; Mario Martelli, “I pensieri architettonici del Magnifico,” Commentari 17 (1966), 109; Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento, 94–95, 129; Doris Carl, “Giuliano da Maiano und Lorenzo de’ Medici: Ihre Beziehung im Lichte von zwei neuaufgefundenen Briefen,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 37 (1993), 250n46; Sonia Maffei, “La villa di Poggioreale e la Duchesca di Alfonso II di Aragona in una descrizione di Paolo Giovio: Moduli dell’elogio e tradizione antica,” Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa: Classe di Lettere e Filosofia, 4th ser., 1–2 (1996), 176–77; Frommel, “Due progetti,” 417–20; Modesti, Le delizie ritrovate, 125–26.
On Castel Nuovo, see Achille Stella, Il castello angioino di Napoli (Castelnuovo): Capisaldi di un razionale restauro (Naples: Jovene, 1926); Achille Stella, Castelnuovo di Napoli alla luce dei documenti e della storia (Naples: Jovene, 1928); Riccardo Filangieri, Castel Nuovo: Reggia angioina ed aragonese di Napoli (Naples: Politecnica, 1934), 66, 251; Rosanna Di Battista, “Il cantiere di Castelnuovo a Napoli fra il 1443 ed il 1473” (PhD thesis, Università IUAV di Venezia, 1998); de Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 441–61.
See the letters sent by the Milanese ambassadors in Naples to Francesco Sforza in Milan in the Dispacci sforzeschi da Napoli:1444–2 luglio 1458, vol. 1, ed. Francesco Senatore (Salerno: Carlone, 1997), 224 (28 July 1455), 317 (6 Dec. 1455), 390 (10 Apr. 1456), 447–48 (25 Oct. 1456), 562 (1 Nov. 1457), 647–58 (9 June 1458). The architectural competition between Alfonso I of Aragon and Francesco Sforza is examined in Bianca de Divitiis, “Alfonso I of Naples and the Art of Building: Castel Nuovo in the European Context,” in Royal Palaces in Early Renaissance Italy: A Comparative Approach, ed. Marco Folin et al. (Leiden: Brill, forthcoming).
On the Topkapı Palace, see Gülru Necipoğlu, Architecture, Ceremonial, and Power: The Topkapı Palace in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1991).
Franz Babinger, Mehmed the Conqueror and His Time (1978; repr., Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1992), 359. For a complete account of the relations between the Kingdom of Naples and the Ottoman Empire, see Cristian Caselli, “Napoli aragonese e l’impero ottomano” (PhD thesis, Università degli Studi di Pisa, 2009–10), esp. 196–237 on the proliferation of accounts of the Turks, with particular attention to the Aragonese context. Already in 1454, King Alfonso I of Aragon had commissioned the Venetian ambassador Nicola Sagundino to transform the account of his visit to Constantinople in 1453 into an oratio. Ad serenissimum principem et invictissimum regem Alphonsum Nicolai Sagundini oratio, ed. Cristian Caselli (Rome: Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medio Evo, 2012).
See Caselli, “Napoli aragonese,” 122–95.
On Costanzo’s trip to Constantinople, see Andrea S. Norris, “Costanzo,” in DBI, vol. 30 (1984), 394–96; Maria Andaloro, “Costanzo da Ferrara: Gli anni a Costantinopoli alla corte di Maometto II,” Storia dell’arte 30–40 (1980), 185–212. On Mehmed as a patron of the arts, see Julian Raby, “A Sultan of Paradox: Mehmed the Conqueror as a Patron of the Arts,” Oxford Art Journal 5 (1982), 3–8.
On the two versions of the medal see George F. Hill, Renaissance Medals from the Samuel H. Kress Collection at the National Gallery of Art (London: Phaidon, 1967), 102n; Andaloro, “Costanzo da Ferrara,” 185–92; Julian Raby, “Pride and Prejudice: Mehmed the Conqueror and the Italian Portrait Medal,” Studies in the History of Art 24 (1987), 171–94; Trinita Kennedy, “Medals of Sultan Mehmet II,” in Venice and the Islamic World, 828–1797, ed. Stefano Carboni (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2006), 331; Susan Spinale, “Reassessing the So-Called ‘Tricaudet Medal’ of Mehmed II,” The Medal 42 (2003), 3–22; Gülru Necipoğlu, “Visual Cosmopolitanism and Creative Translation: Artistic Conversations with Renaissance Italy in Mehmed II’s Constantinople,” Muquarnas 29 (2012), 1–82. For the other works attributed to Costanzo during his stay at Mehmed’s court, see Andaloro, “Costanzo da Ferrara,” 190–204; Julian Raby, “Picturing the Levant,” in Circa 1492: Art in the Age of the Exploration, ed. Jay A. Levenson (Washington, D.C.: National Gallery of Art, 1991), 77–81.
On Ferrante’s spies visiting the city of Constantinople in 1485, see Cristian Caselli, “Spie italiane nell’impero ottomano: La Deposicio Antonii de Corsellis (1485) conservata presso l’Archivio di Stato di Modena,” Studi medievali, 3rd ser., 51 (2010), 779–815.
On the activity of Costanzo in Naples, see Filangieri, Documenti, 6:198, 230, 326; Luigi Serra, “Nota sugli affreschi dell’ex-convento dei SS. Severino e Sossio a Napoli,” L’arte 9 (1906), 206–12. Costanzo was at the head of a group of decorators working in Castel Capuano in 1488 and was paid for frescoing in the Duchesca the history of the Prince of Rossano, who made an attempt on Ferrante’s life in 1460. Strazzullo, “Lavori eseguiti”; Ceci, “Nuovi documenti,” 787. In 1492 Costanzo was paid for creating the scenario for the performance in Castel Capuano of a theatrical piece composed by the humanist Jacopo Sannazaro to commemorate the capture of Granada. See Niccolini, L’arte napoletana, 247.
De Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 441–61.
Bianca de Divitiis, “Out of the Seggio of Nido: Apothecae and Markets in 15th Century Naples,” Città e storia 2 (2007), 381–400.
Diomede Carafa hosted Sigismondo d’Este in 1472 and the Bastard of Burgundy in 1486. Bianca de Divitiis, Architettura e committenza nella Napoli del Quattrocento (Venice: Marsilio, 2007).
On Lorenzo’s dinner and stay at the palace of Antonello Petrucci, the royal secretary executed in 1487, see the letters written by Gentile Becchi to Piero de’ Medici dated 11 and 14 April 1466 (ASF, Archivio Mediceo avanti Principato, XVI, 194, 191). On Lorenzo’s visit to Naples, see Lorenzo de’ Medici, Lettere, vol. 1, ed. Riccardo Fubini (1977), letter 9, 18–20. See also André Rochon, La jeunesse de Laurent de Médicis (1449–1467) (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1963), 77–79, 105–8; Ingeborg Walter, Lorenzo Magnifico (Rome: Donzelli, 2005), 49. On the Petrucci palace, see Helen Rotolo, Restauri antichi e nuovi nel palazzo di Antonello Petrucci in Napoli (Naples: Graffiti, 2003); Bianca de Divitiis, “Un caso di rinnovamento urbano nella Napoli aragonese: La regio Nilensis e il largo di San Domenico Maggiore,” in Grands chantiers de la rénovation urbaine: Les expériences italiennes dans leur contexte européen (XVe–XVIe siècle), ed. Patrick Boucheron and Marco Folin (Rome: École Française de Rome, 2012), 99–122. On the palace of Pascasio Diaz Garlon, see Bartolomeo Capasso, “Il palazzo dei Diaz Garlon, poi di San Marco,” Napoli nobilissima 2 (1893), 16.
Filangieri, Castel Nuovo, 66, 251; de Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 441–61.
See Cesare De Seta, Napoli (Rome: Laterza, 1986), 74–93.
On the new royal palace built by Pedro de Toledo, see Franco Strazzullo, Architetti e ingegneri napoletani dal ’500 al ’700 (Naples: ESI, 1969), 78; Paola Carla Verde, Domenico Fontana a Napoli: 1592–1607 (Naples: Electa, 2007); Sabina de Cavi, Architecture and Royal Presence: Domenico and Giulio Cesare Fontana in Spanish Naples (1592–1627) (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, 2009); Fulvio Lenzo, “ ‘Che cosa è architetto’: La polemica di Domenico Fontana con gli ingegneri napoletani e l’edizione del Libro Secondo,” in Studi su Domenico Fontana, ed. Giovanna Curcio et al. (Mendrisio, Switzerland: Silvana, 2011), 265–87.
Vasari, “Vita di Giuliano”; Leon Battista Alberti, De re aedificatoria, ed. Giovanni Orlandi and Paolo Portoghesi (Milan: Il Polifilo, 1966), bk. 5, chap. 4, 694.
On the Albertian culture shared by Lorenzo de’ Medici and Sangallo, see Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento, 94–95; Pagliara, “Giamberti, Giuliano”; Martelli, “I pensieri”; Philip E. Foster, “Alberti, Lorenzo de’ Medici, and Santa Maria delle Carceri in Prato,” JSAH 30 (1971), 238–39; Philip E. Foster, “Lorenzo de’ Medici and the Florence Cathedral Façade,” Art Bulletin 63 (1981), 495–500; Piero Morselli and Gino Corti, La chiesa di Santa Maria delle Carceri a Prato: Contributo di Lorenzo de’ Medici e Giuliano da Sangallo alla progettazione (Florence: EDAM, 1982), 23; Kent, Lorenzo de’ Medici, 112–51.
On Alberti’s stay in Naples, see Luca Boschetto, “Nuove ricerche sulla biografia e sugli scritti volgari di Leon Battista Alberti: Dal viaggio a Napoli alla nascita del ‘De iciarchia’ (maggio–settembre 1465),” Interpres 20 (2001), 180–211. For discussion of the impact of his visit on the palace of Diomede Carafa, and in particular on his portal, see de Divitiis, Architettura e committenza, 65–76. For the manuscript copy of the De re aedificatoria requested by Cardinal Giovanni d’Aragona in 1483 from the Florentine copyist Francesco Gaddi, see Tammaro De Marinis, La biblioteca napoletana dei re d’Aragona, 5 vols. (Milan: Hoepli, 1952–69), 1:88. Another manuscript was in the possession of Antonello Petrucci, who imitated Diomede Carafa’s Albertian portal. On humanists in Naples studying Alberti’s treatise, see Carlo Vecce, Gli zibaldoni di Jacopo Sannazaro (Messina: Sicania, 1998), 55–60; Carlo Vecce, “Sannazaro e Alberti: Una lettura del ‘De re aedificatoria,’ ” in Filologia umanistica per Gianvito Resta, ed. Vincenzo Fera and Giovanni Ferraù, 3 vols. (Padua: Antenore, 1997), 3:1821–60.
Evidence relating the fifteenth-century ceremonial in Castel Nuovo emerges from the account of the Florentine humanist Pier Andrea da Verrazzano contained in a pamphlet dedicated to Beatrice of Aragon that dates to 1474 or 1475. See Tammaro De Marinis and Carlo Dionisotti, “Un opuscolo di Pier Andrea da Verrazano per Beatrice d’Aragona,” Italia Medioevale e Umanistica 10 (1967), 321–43. Further evidence comes from the account given in 1494 by the Modenese ambassador in a letter to the Marquis of Mantua, Francesco II Gonzaga. See Vitale, Ritualità monarchica, 43. On both accounts, see de Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 459–61, 472–73.
Filangieri, Castel Nuovo, 237–29, 62–65.
On the moats that surrounded Castel Nuovo, see ibid., 66.
Alberti, De re aedificatoria, bk. 8, chaps. 6–7, 718–19, 739–41.
Also, the bronze doors of Castel Nuovo, created around 1475, were formed by narrative panels recounting episodes of Ferrante’s war against the French pretender to the throne Jean d’Anjour and against the rebellious barons. See Filangieri, Castel Nuovo, 209, 217, 242, 251; Luigi Volpicella, “Le porte di Castelnuovo e il bottino di Carlo VIII,” Napoli Nobilissima, 2nd ser., 2 (1921), 153–60; Joana Barreto, “Artisan ou artiste entre France et Italie? Le cas de Guglielmo Monaco (Guillaume Le Moine) à la cour de Naples au XVe siècle,” Laboratoire italien 11 (2011), 301–28. On the decoration of the palace of Bartolomeo Scala, see Linda Pellecchia, “The Patron’s Role in the Production of Architecture: Bartolomeo Scala and the Scala Palace,” Renaissance Quarterly 42 (1989), 258–91.
See the letter to the Duke of Milan, Francesco Sforza, dated 6 December 1455 from the Milanese ambassadors Troilo di Muro and Orfeo Cenni in Dispaci Sforzeschi da Napoli, no. 120, 317: “E già fina hora havemo visto Castelnuovo quale, come debbe havere inteso la signoria vostra, tutte ha ratificato con bellissime muray e torre et barbacani, che è una cosa meravigliosa dela grosseza e ornamento dele mure in forteza et di bella dimostraione di fora. Ma dentro comprendemo non possa fare quelle cose conseguente alle mure di fora per el pocho spacio, come vostra signoria è informata, e in questo credemo vostra signoria vincerà, ma de le mura perderà; pure molto se sforza de cunciarlo più ornatamente che’l po’.” De Divitiis, “Alfonso I of Naples.”
Leostello, “Effemeridi,” 185; de Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 453.
Filangieri, Castel Nuovo, 80; de Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo.”
Bruschi, “Il teatro Capitolino.”
Maffei, “La villa di Poggioreale,” 165.
On the theater on the Capitoline Hill and the project for Via Laura, see note 4.
On the revival of the all’antica theater in Naples, see Benedetto Croce, I teatri di Napoli: Secoli XV–XVIII (Naples: Pierro, 1891), 7–29; Cristiana Addesso, Teatro e festività nella Napoli aragonese (Florence: Olschki, 2012); Vecce, Gli zibaldoni; Bianca de Divitiis, “Fra Giocondo nel Regno di Napoli: Dallo studio antiquario al progetto all’antica,” in Fra Giocondo architetto, umanista e antiquario, ed. Pierre Gros and Pier Nicola Pagliara (Venice: Marsilio, forthcoming).
De Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 468–69.
“Magistro Francisco senese architectore haveva ordinato palchi de ligname per videre molta gente come stavano li romani antiqui neli theatri.” Vitale, Ritualità monarchica, 44–45; de Divitiis, “Fra Giocondo.”
Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, Vat. Lat. 5632, fol. 101. See Johannis Burckardi liber notarum ab anno 1483 usque ad annum 1506, ed. Enrico Celani (Città di Castello: S. Lapi, 1907–10), 485–87. See also Maria Alasia Lombardo di Cumia, La topografia artistica del Duomo di Napoli (Naples: Paparo, 2011), 29, 269–70, fig. 5.
On thermal baths during the Renaissance, see David S. Chambers, “Spas in the Italian Renaissance,” in Individuals and Institutions in Renaissance Italy, ed. David S. Chambers (Aldershot, England: Variorum, 1998), 3–27. On bathing in Naples, see Giuliana Vitale, “I bagni a Napoli nel Medioevo tra pratiche igienico-sanitarie, industria, luoghi di piacere,” Archivio Storico per le Province Napoletane 123 (2005), 1–48.
For discussion of the relationship between Poggioreale and the Baths of Trajan, see Keller, “Die Zeichnung Uff. 363A,” 35. On Francesco di Giorgio’s drawing, see Howard Burns, “XX.17. UA327,” in Francesco di Giorgio architetto, ed. Francesco Paolo Fiore and Manfredo Tafuri (Milan: Electa, 1993), 340–41. Francesco di Giorgio was in Naples intermittently between 1491 and 1495 to work on the defensive system of the Kingdom of Naples. See Percopo, Nuovi documenti, 298–304; Hersey, Alfonso II, 73–74; Nicholas Adams, “L’architettura militare di Francesco di Giorgio,” in Fiore and Tafuri, Francesco di Giorgio architetto, 126–62.
Howard Burns, “XX.25. UA321 Av,” in Fiore and Tafuri, Francesco di Giorgio architetto, 346. On the relation between Pliny’s letter (chap. 5, bk. 6, 36) and Poggioreale, see Maffei, “La villa di Poggioreale,” 165, 176. For Pliny’s letter see Pliny the Younger, Complete Letters, ed. Peter G. Walsh (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006).
On the banquets in the Duchesca and in Poggioreale, see Leostello, “Effemeridi,” 223, 225–26, 235, 237–38, 240–42, 289, 342, 344, 346, 349, 351, 354–55, 357–58, 361, 363. For discussion of banquets with floodings at the Duchesca, see Leostello, “Effemeridi,” 343–44, 347. Paolo Giovio describes at the center of the Duchesca a “depressa cavedium cum pavimentis Signino et musivo opere vermiculatis, quadrata item septa porticu et nobili circa podium scamillorum peristylio.” From Giovio’s account it becomes clear that the flooding in Poggioreale did not take place in the main courtyard, as described by Sebastiano Serlio, but in a cenatio, an all’antica dining room that could be reached through the secret gardens. See the description by Paolo Giovio in Dialogus de viris et foeminis aetate nostra florentibus, analyzed in Maffei, “La villa di Poggioreale,” 165–66. See also Il terzo libro di Sebastiano Serlio bolognese, nel qual si figurano, e descrivono le antiquità di Roma, e le altre che sono in Italia, e fuori d’Italia (Venetia: Francesco Marcolino da Forlì, 1540), 121r–121v. For a different view, see Modesti, Le delizie ritrovate, 56–62, 93–96. Paola Modesti interestingly argues that the dining room in the garden should be attributed to Giuliano da Sangallo. Modesti, Le delizie ritrovate, 145. On banquets with water games in the Duchesca and Poggioreale, see George Hersey, “Water-Works and Water-Play in Renaissance Naples,” Fons Sapientiae: Renaissance Garden Fountains, ed. Elizabeth B. MacDougall (Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks, 1978), 59–93; Maffei, “La villa di Poggioreale,” 165.
Lorenzo de’ Medici, Simposio, vv. 46–57, in Tutte le Opere, ed. Paolo Orvieto (Rome: Salerno, 1922), 641–42. See Martelli, “I pensieri architettonici,” 109–10; Maffei, “La villa di Poggioreale,” 165–66.
Claus M. Kaufmann, The Baths of Pozzuoli (Oxford: Cassirer, 1959), 3–7.
Keller, “Die Zeichnung Uff. 363A,” 32.
On the guides to the baths, see Livio Petrucci, “Le fonti della topografia delle terme flegree dal XII al XV secolo,” Archivio Storico per le Province Napoletane 97 (1979), 99–129; Ioannis Ioviani Pontani Eclogae, ed. Liliana Monti Sabia (Naples: Liguori, 1973); Giovanni Gioviano Pontano, Baiae, ed. Rodney G. Dennis (Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press: 2006).
The original manuscript is lost, but twenty copies survive; ten of these are illustrated, and among these is the 1471 copy commissioned by Alfonso, now preserved in Milan (Biblioteca Ambrosiana 1.6, Inf.). See Kaufmann, Baths of Pozzuoli, 21–22; Fikret K. Yegül, “The Thermo-Mineral Complex at Baiae and De Balneis Puteolanis,” Art Bulletin 78 (1996), 138.
The manuscript is now preserved in the Edinburgh University Library (Ms. 176). See Kaufmann, Baths of Pozzuoli, 64, 83–86; Keller, “Die Zeichnung Uff. 363A,” 33; Yegül, “Thermo-Mineral Complex,” 155–56.
Howard Burns, “XX.21. U329 Av; XX.24. U331 Ar,” in Fiore and Tafuri, Francesco di Giorgio architetto, 342–43, 346.
On Jacopo Sannazaro’s guiding important foreign guests to the Campi Flegrei, see Vecce, Gli zibaldoni, 60; de Divitiis, “Fra Giocondo.”
Yegül, “Thermo-Mineral Complex.”
Alberti, De re aedificatoria, bk. 8, chap. 10, 768–77. On Alberti and thermal architecture, see Howard Burns, “Alberti,” in Storia dell’architettura italiana: Il Quattrocento, ed. Francesco Paolo Fiore (Milan: Electa, 1998), 126–29.
Vasari, “Vita di Giuliano.”
Hülsen, Il libro di Giuliano.
The Taccuino Senese, fol. 27, contains a plan of Battistero di San Giovanni, the Pisa Baptistery, that covers almost the entire page. Below the baptistery, Sangallo drew a centering for a hemispherical dome not related to the centralized structure. Giuliano’s drawing of the Colosseum depicts only four steps, each separated from the next by a fillet. However, it does include measurements. For example, he gives the width of the tread as 1 (braccio), that is, 58.3 centimeters. The height of each step is marked as ⅔, or 38.8 centimeters, and the height and tread of the fillet or footrest is ¼, or 14.5 centimeters. The sketch may correspond to the section of the scalaria positioned between the stepped theater seats that allowed spectators to reach their places, but it might also represent a study of the footrests that were placed behind the seats in such amphitheaters so that the spectators could rest their feet without disturbing those sitting in the row below them. A reference to this drawing is found in Hülsen, Il libro di Giuliano, LIV. While Hülsen mentions the baptistery and the centering, he does not discuss the amphitheater’s steps. Borsi also refers to this drawing, but he does not mention the steps. Borsi, Giuliano da Sangallo, 285.
See note 33.
Codice Barberiniano, fol. 67v: “Questa base è a San Pagholo di Napoli tempio anticho e ogni parte è meno 4/5 chel proprio, misurato apunto.” The remains of the temple were destroyed by an earthquake in 1688. Fulvio Lenzo, Architettura e antichità a Napoli dal XV al XVIII secolo: Le colonne del tempio dei Dioscuri e la chiesa di San Paolo Maggiore (Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider, 2011), 39–40.
Codice Barberiniano, fol. 8v: “Te[m]pio di Sibila Chumana / VIII lumi”; Uffizi UA 2045r: “I tempio apresso a Baia di Sibilla.” The drawing corresponds to a thermal complex known as the temple of Apollo. Amedeo Maiuri, I Campi Flegrei (Rome: Istituto Poligrafico e Zecca dello Stato, 1958), 157–60; Mario Pagano and Jacques Rougetet, “Le grandi terme dette ‘Tempio di Apollo’ sul lago di Averno,” Puteoli 12–13 (1988–89), 151–209. For a comparison of Giuliano’s drawing with the one of the same building made by Francesco di Giorgio, see Burns, “XX.20. U 329 Ar,” in Fiore and Tafuri, Francesco di Giorgio architetto, 342–43.
Maiuri, Campi Flegrei, 155–60.
Temple of Mercury and Temple of Venus in Baia (Codice Barberiniano, fol. 7; Taccuino Senese 26–26v); Temple of the Sybil on Lake Averno (Codice Barberiniano, fol. 8v; Uffizi UA 2045r); baths in Cuma (Codice Barberiniano, fol. 8v); baths of Tripergole (Codice Barberiniano, fol. 8; Taccuino Senese, fol. 16; Uffizi UA 2045v); Carceri Vecchie in Capua (Codice Barberiniano, fol. 8; Uffizi UA 2045v); octagonal temple in Capua Vetere (Uffizi UA 2045r); sepulcher of Lucius Munatius Plancus in Gaeta (Codice Barberiniano, fol. 7v); Varro’s study in Cassino (Uffizi UA 2045r).
Vasori, 28–31. See also Arnaldo Bruschi and Paola Zampa, “Giamberti Antonio, detto Antonio da Sangallo il Vecchio,” in DBI, vol. 54 (2000), 273–87.
On Tripergole see Kaufmann, Baths of Pozzuoli, 1–7; Yegül, “Thermo-Mineral Complex,” 150–51. On the Carceri Vecchie see Alfonso De Franciscis and Roberto Pane, Mausolei romani in Campania (Naples: Edizioni Scientifiche Italiane, 1957), 105.
Uffizi UA 2045r. Varro’s study in Cassino is indicated as “Istudio di Archo Varone apresso a Santo Giermano.” On the drawing of the Temple of the Sybil, see note 101. See also Howard Burns, “XX.II.10. U 322 Av,” in Fiore and Tafuri, Francesco di Giorgio architetto, 336–37.
Uffizi UA 2045r: “A Capoa vecia u[n] tenpio / Di Fura / Di Drento.” See De Franciscis and Pane, Mausolei, 105; Vasori, I monumenti antichi, 28–31.
Rosa Sabatino, “La ‘fravica dela ecclesia reale de Sancto Juanne a Carvonare’ in una pergamena del 1423: Nuove acquisizioni sul complesso eremitano napoletano,” Napoli Nobilissima, 5th ser., 3 (2002), 135–52.
De Divitiis, “Castel Nuovo,” 453–54.
Panormita recounts that during the siege of Gaeta in 1436 Alfonso I refused to construct new bombards in order to avoid a single stone being taken from Cicero’s villa. Antonii Panormitæ de dictis et factis Alphonsi regis Aragonum et Neapolis libri quatuor (Rostochii: Myliandrinis, 1589), 34. See Bianca de Divitiis, “I resoconti di guerra come fonte per la storia dell’architettura,” in La battaglia nel Rinascimento meridionale: Moduli narrativi tra parole e immagini, ed. Giancarlo Abbamonte et al. (Rome: Viella, 2011), 321–34. On Cicero’s villa, see Cairoli Giuliani and Marcello Guaitoli, “Il ninfeo minore della villa detta di Cicerone a Formia,” Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archaeologischen Instituts: Roemische Ableitung 79 (1972), 191–208. On the relevance of Cicero’s villa in Formia during the Renaissance, see also Adriano Ghisetti Giavarina, “Andrea Palladio e le antichità della Campania (II),” Napoli Nobilissima, 4th ser., 38 (1999), 10–11; Gros, “La domus romana,” 65–82.
Bianca de Divitiis, “New Evidence for Sculptures from Diomede Carafa’s Collection of Antiquities,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 70 (2007), 99–119.
De Divitiis, Architettura e committenza, 98–99.
Letter of 24 May 1488: “Il signor chonte di Benafri fa qui un palazzo, e vi s’è trovato un torsi d’una fighura, che mi pare delle buone chose siano in questo rengnio. Giuliano da San Ghallo lo veda. La sua signoria a questi g[i]orni m’à domandato che io li facci avere 2 tavole d’un pino, che Andrea Chanbini à fatto tagliare in sul tereno dela bad[i]a di San Germano. El prefacto signore la vorebbe per fare una tavola da ma[n]ggiare. Sarebbe bene che si li donasino, e che lla sua signoria donassi al magnifico Lorenzo quella fighura, ch’è cosa da stimarla. Se voi mi darete questa choesione, credo ridurvela a questo sengnio, e di già la sua signoria m’à detto che detta fighura insieme chon tutto lo stato suo, è al piacere del prefacto magnifico Lorenzo.” A letter dated 5 July 1488 shows that the torso referred to in the May letter had not yet been sent to Florence: “Perché Andrea Chanbini mette in lungha il dare quelle tavole al chonte di Benafri, non s’à quella fighura. Sarà bene ne faciate scrivere dal magnifico Lorenzo al detto Andrea che dia dette tavole, che sono una miseria.” Both letters are preserved in the Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale di Firenze, Carte Ginori Conti 29, ins. 101c, 56–57. See Laurie Fusco and Gino Corti, Lorenzo de’ Medici, collector and antiquarian (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 304–5, docs. 93, 96.
The palace of Scipione Pandone corresponds to the actual Conca palace in Piazza Bellini, and in 1488 it was being rebuilt. See Antonio Colombo, “Il palazzo dei principi di Conca nella strada di Santa Maria di Costantinopoli,” Napoli Nobilissima 9 (1900), 25–132, 172–75, 185–90.
Giuliano received his last payment in Naples in February 1488. Percopo, Nuovi documenti, 316; Fabriczy, “Giuliano da Sangallo,” 4. We know that Giuliano would have carried to Florence a letter written by Alfonso of Calabria to one Giovanni Strozzi in Florence with the ambiguous dating “1488 da Napoli e a dì 19 Aprile de dì viii di marzo.” See Francis William Kent, “Più superba di quella de Lorenzo: Courtly and Family Interest in the Building of Filippo Strozzi’s Palace,” Renaissance Quarterly 30 (1977), 322n43. According to a document published by Morselli and Corti (ASP, Patrimonio Ecclesiastico, Opera di S. M. delle Carceri, n. 1286, c. 35), on 5 May 1488 he was in Prato to work on the church of Santa Maria della Carceri. See Morselli and Corti, La chiesa di Santa Maria, 108.
Salvatore Settis, Laocoonte (Rome: Donzelli, 1999), 110–11.
According to Vasari, Giuliano had “stretta dimistichezza” with Gondi during the architect’s stay in Naples. Vasari, “Vita di Giuliano.” As we have seen, Giuliano Gondi was responsible for making the payments to Giuliano da Maiano on behalf of Duke Alfonso, and evidence that he still held a residence in Naples in 1494 is given in a letter sent by Bernardo Rucellai to the Dieci di Balia. Archivio di Stato di Firenze, Dieci di Balia, c. 81v. On Gondi, see Stefano Tabacchi, “Gondi, Giuliano,” in DBI, vol. 57 (2001), 656–59.
On Giuliano Gondi’s palace in Florence, see Andreas Tönnesmann, Der Palazzo Gondi in Florenz (Worms, Germany: Werner, 1983); Linda Pellecchia, “Untimely Death, Unwilling Heirs: The Early History of Giuliano da Sangallo’s Unfinished Palace for Giuliano Gondi,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Forenz 47(2003), 77–117. On the Gondi chapel in Florence, see Alessia Turrini, “La Cappella Gondi in Santa Maria Novella a Firenze” (PhD thesis, Università degli Studi di Firenze, 1995–96), 115–28.
On the external staircase of the Gondi palace as an outdated evocation of the archaic staircases in Palazzo Vecchio and in the Bargello, see Andreas Tönnesmann, “L’escalier du palais Gondi et la tradition Florentine,” in L’escalier dans l’architecture de la Renaissance (Paris: Picard, 1985), 133–34. Gondi’s staircase may be interpreted in the light of the contemporary fashion in the kingdom for similar staircases deriving from the Catalan models that had been imported by the Aragonese court, such as the ones in Castel Nuovo in Naples, in Onorato II Caetani’s palace in Fondi, and in the Antignano Palace in Capua, as well as the ones in the Petrucci and Marzano palaces in Carinola. See Giovanni Pesiri, “Il Palazzo Caetani a Fondi: Prime indagini,” in Scritti per Isa: Raccolta di studi offerti a Isa Lori Sanfilippo, ed. Antonella Mazzon (Rome: Istituto Storico Italiano per il Medio Evo, 2008), 747–74; Ciro Robotti, Palazzo Antignano e l’architettura rinascimentale a Capua (Naples: Ferraro, 1983); Massimo Rosi, Carinola, Pompei quattrocentesca (Naples: Società Editrice Napoletana, 1979), 94–118; Riccardo Filangieri, “La casa di Marino Marzano principe di Rossano in Carinola,” in Miscellànea Puig i Cadafalch (Barcelona: Institut d’Estudis Catalans, 1947–51), 1:37–40. In addition, the plan to place an ancient statue of the consul on the façade of the Gondi palace echoes the characteristic arrangement of ancient statues or busts on exterior walls typical in the Kingdom of Naples, as illustrated by the antique statue of a nymph placed in a niche surmounting the portal of Diomede Carafa’s palace. See Georg Satzinger, “Der ‘Konsul’ am Palazzo Gondi in Florenz: Zur öffentlichen Inszenierung antiker Statuen um 1500,” Römisches Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte 30 (1995), 153, 160–62; Settis, Laocoonte, 110–11; Fusco and Corti, Lorenzo de’ Medici, 64, 192, 313; de Divitiis, Architettura e committenza, 110. The lateral seats of Gondi’s chapel seem to draw on the late fifteenth-century fashion of the Neapolitan elite to have tombs designed as benches. Furthermore, the sequence of benches facing each other on the two sides of the main altar recalls the original arrangement of the Cappellone del Crocifisso in San Domenico Maggiore, where funerary monuments with benches belonging to the Carafa and other Neapolitan noble families were lined up against the walls, creating a veritable choir mausoleum, as is found in the Gondi chapel. See Francesco Caglioti, “Antonello Gagini e le tombe Carafa di Castelvetere,” in La Calabria del viceregno spagnolo, ed. Alessandra Anselmi (Rome: Gangemi, 2009), 337–85n80. On the Cappellone del Crocifisso, see de Divitiis, Architettura e committenza, 142–65.
On the Succorpo, see Pane, Il Rinascimento, 2:103–14; Diana Norman, “The Succorpo in the Cathedral of Naples: ‘Empress of All Chapels,’ ” Zeitschrift für Kunstgeschichte 49 (1986), 323–55; Daniela Del Pesco, “Oliviero Carafa e il Succorpo di San Gennaro nel Duomo di Napoli,” in Donato Bramante: Ricerche, proposte, riletture, ed. Francesco Paolo di Teodoro (Urbino: Accademia Raffaello, 2001), 143–205; Blunt, Architettura, 274; de Divitiis, Architettura e committenza, 171–81. On the Cappella Caracciolo di Vico, see Blunt, Architettura, 38–40, 274; Charlotte Nichols, “The Caracciolo di Vico Chapel in Naples and Early Cinquecento Architecture” (PhD diss., New York University, 1988); Angelamaria Aceto, “La Cappella Caracciolo di Vico in San Giovanni a Carbonara a Napoli (1514–1517) e il problema della sua attribuzione,” Bollettino d’arte 95 (2010), 47–80.
Fra Giocondo was surely in Naples from 5 July 1488 to revise the epigraphic sylloge intended for Lorenzo de’ Medici, but we cannot rule out that he might have been in the capital earlier. See Michael Koortbojian, “A Collection of Inscriptions for Lorenzo De’ Medici: Two Dedicatory Letters from Fra Giovanni Giocondo,” Papers of the British School at Rome 70 (2002), 297–98; de Divitiis, “Fra Giocondo.” On Fra Giocondo, see Pier Nicola Pagliara, “Giovanni Giocondo da Verona (Fra Giocondo),” in DBI, vol. 61 (2001), 326–38.
On Francesco di Giorgio in Naples, see note 83.
On Giuliano’s palace on Piazza Navona, affirmed by the drawing in the Uffizi UA 7949A, see Tafuri, Ricerca del Rinascimento, 97–115.
Vasari recounts that on Giuliano’s departure from Naples he refused payment for his work, receiving instead from Alfonso three “anticaglie,” which he presented in turn to Lorenzo. Vasari, “Vita di Giuliano”; Alessandro Parronchi, “Le tre ‘anticaglie’ portate da Napoli da Giuliano da Sangallo (1977),” in Opere Giovanili di Michelangelo, 3 vols. (Florence: Olschki, 1961), 3:27–37.