ART HISTORY:The Italian Renaissance is the template against which European art – and, in the case of Leonardo and Michelangelo, all art – is still measured

A New History of Italian Renaissance Art By Stephen J Campbell and Michael W Cole Thames & Hudson, 680pp. £45

MORE THAN ANY other clearly defined period in the evolution of art, the Italian Renaissance became, and remains, self- contained and exclusive, the template against which to explore and consider European art – and, in the case of Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo, all art. Suddenly, at the close of the 14th century, artists began to break free of the darkness of the Middle Ages and, by returning to the forms of classical Greek and Roman art, achieved something very new.

The human figure became central in sculpture and painting, but this new creative energy was also directed at architecture. The authors of this thoughtful, well-argued and plainly written survey, both art historians teaching at US universities, have approached their subject chronologically. Instead of focusing on individual artists, they have set out to explain not only what happened but why: “Artists in 15th-century Italy already recognised that they were doing something remarkable, and when they set out to say what it was, they frequently explained their accomplishments with reference to antiquity.”

Yet there was far more to it than that. Aside from improvements in technology, such as the introduction of oil and the use of canvas instead of wood, sculptors were commissioned to return to the large scale favoured during classical times. The public and private moods were more favourable to art. Artists were seen as exactly that, not as artisans providing a service, although for most of the Renaissance their work was dictated by paying clients.

This is a large book, offering more than 800 illustrations and photographs, yet it is not a coffee-table publication. The tone is serious and the presentation almost sombre, if always accessible. To read it is an education in itself, and such is its range that it helps explain why many historians sigh and shrug off the Renaissance as merely the story of two centuries of Italian art. Of course, at the time of this creative explosion, Italy did not exist. The territory was divided between the Holy Roman Empire, the papal states and the kingdom of Naples. Instead of a country, there were large city states, and the various forms of local government shaped the conventions of patronage that in turn enabled what was a cultural revolution in terms of productivity.

In Florence, attention had already turned to building, and the architecture of the Renaissance has endured.

Much of the patronage was private, yet it still resulted in public art. The first artist of influence was Giotto di Bondone, whose birth date is uncertain but tentatively given as 1267. He died in 1337, but, largely through his splendid wall frescoes, his influence continued through much of the period – or so it has been asserted. The authors are scrupulous and challenge easy theories: “The idea of one brilliant individual transforming the history of art makes for a compelling story; it is a key myth of the Renaissance. At best, Giotto was one of the more accomplished members of a wave of artists working in a range of styles around 1300, not all of whom were Tuscan.”

Giotto’s frescoes in the Arena Chapel in Padua are among the greater delights in a book that has many.

By 1400, Catholicism was Europe’s sole Christian religion. The head of that church was, as now, the pope, albeit the popes were of a very different type from the successors envisioned by St Peter. Whatever about the scandals, the wealth of the papacy would prove vital in supporting and sustaining artists. Building on Florence Cathedral began in 1296; Milan was slow to follow, but when it did, a local merchant sponsored a spire complete with a statue of St George.

Among the early figures to emerge in Florence was the sculptor Donatello. As the authors point out, Donatello’s David (1408-09) was not overly concerned with the Old Testament: “The statue, with its body-hugging leather, long neck, and apparent awareness of being seen, presages the sculptures of beautiful young men for which Donatello would become famous.” A nude variation dates from 1440-43.

Initially, architecture, memorial monuments and sculpture, not paintings, dominated the Renaissance, particularly in the rivalry between Florence and Milan. Beauty was uppermost for Donatello, as can be seen from a detail of his St George and the Dragon, from St George’s tabernacle.

As the most powerful states – Milan, Florence, Venice, Naples and the Holy See – did not permit their citizens to bear arms, mercenaries led by captains known as condottieri were hired. Interestingly, many of the equestrian statues dating from this time were in fact honouring professional warlords. The monument for Sir John Hawkwood by Paolo Uccello, executed as a fresco, was transferred to canvas and now hangs in Florence Cathedral. Throughout the early stages of the Renaissance a strong classical theme dominated, invariably mythological. This would later change, and religious images, particularly biblical scenes, were most popular.

A definite advantage of the chronological approach is that, as the study progresses, various artists emerge and remain present, at least for the duration of their careers. Several of them also move between the cities. It was the then pope, Nicholas V, who invited the Florentine painter Fra Angelico, a Dominican friar, to Rome to create works honouring the newly discovered remains of Sts Stephen and Lawrence; the frescoes in Nicholas V’s chapel in the Vatican Palace are reproduced in the book.

Central to the reinvention of Rome was a remarkable young painter from Padua, Andrea Mantegna. His style was radically different: he juxtaposed his human figures with towering architectural images. The court art of the day was complemented by lavish tapestries initially imported from Flanders but increasingly created within the city states. Looking at these paintings and sculptures, as well as the many photographs of churches and palaces, and seeing the extent of creative energy that flourished, it is easy to understand how Italian music would also influence the French and German baroque that would follow.

Andrea del Verrochio (circa 1435-1488), creator of the equestrian bronze to Bartolomeno Colleoni (circa 1481-95), was a gifted artist in his own right, and it was in his workshop that the young Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) got his start. One of Leonardo’s most gracious works, Annunciation (c1473), in the Uffizi Gallery, in Florence, is included in the book, as is his ambivalent The Adoration of the Magi (1481-82). The other giant whose presence runs through the book and beyond, of course, is Michelangelo: his sculpture, his innovative architectural designs and his heroic painting of the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel (though he was an artist who claimed not to be a painter).

Eventually tastes demanded that the human body be clothed, and drapery presented an artistic challenge to equal that of anatomy.

For all the book’s concentration on artistic activity, its authors include the sacking of Rome in 1527 and the plagues that devastated society. Did the Renaissance end with the bravado of Caravaggio? No, but the world changed and artists moved on, standing firmly on the shoulders of the Renaissance giants.

This is an informed, enlightened and useful book: its index, notes, sources and bibliography are valuable, while its chronological methodology will reinvigorate the teaching of art history.

Eileen Battersby is Literary Correspondent