Discoveries in early modern history

Frescos, Palazzo Ducale, Urbino

Madonna and child by Michele di Giovanni da Fiesole, Palazzo Ducale, Urbino, c. 1455

I've always wanted to visit Urbino, the stronghold of the successful condottiere and art patron Duke Federico da Montefeltro since reading Geoffrey Trease's Horsemen on the Hills (1971) as a child. In Italy, his 'pink palace' (actually more of a light-coloured red brick) is famous:

But it's bloody difficult to get to on your own steam - flight to Bologna, two trains and a bus ride from Pesaro. So I booked a tour with like-minded individuals receptive to the opportunity for the explosion of art and architecture this would provide.

He was a focused and ruthless man, an illegitimate son, who made a name for himself as a condottiere, then gained the Dukedom after the death of his half-brother - there is some suspicion he may have been implicated. The famous nose shown in the painting by Piero della Francesca was not natural - he lost an eye in a jousting accident and then ordered surgeons to remove the bridge so he could see better in battle with the one remaining eye. This just shows what a single-minded man he was.

The palace at Urbino is stamped with his personality, via his personal emblems, as is the rather beautiful renaissance palace at Gubbio where he was born. The order of the garter, which he received from King Edward IV, is everywhere.

He was buried in the Church of San Bernardino, just outside Urbino, which was constructed in a similar style to the palace at Gubbio, according to his wishes.

Federico was a great patron of Piero della Francesca, but this altarpiece at the church was looted by Napoleon and ended up in Milan.

Other della Francesca works associated with Federico are no longer at Urbino, having made their way to the Uffizi and other places, but some remain, including the Flagellation of Christ, which is said to refelct (and perhaps atone for) the murder of his brother Oddantonio who is the Christ figure in the painting.

The Madonna di Senigallia is also a star attraction, but impossible to study too closely due to the volume of Italian schoolchildren surrounding it. The Christ child wears coral for its protective qualities.

There is also a rather wonderful portrait by Raphael, known as 'La Muta' because she looks like she wants to say something, but can't:

All Saints Hillesden in Buckinghamshire has everything: a door pockmarked from a civil war siege, which the church survived, while the manor house was burned down by Oliver Cromwell's troops, and (it is said) thirty foreign mercenaries summarily executed. Despite this, quite a bit of old glass survives, including this rather wonderful piece of sixteenth-century Flemish glass telling the story of St Nicholas.

It captures all the bizarre details of the St Nicholas legends, with wonderfully expressive details:

There is a good explanation of what they represent here. Apparently this one above is the devil strangling a boy, who is then revived by St Nicholas.

I'm not sure whether this window was in the church when it was besieged, as another window is testimony to the destruction then wrought:

The 'Hillesden miracle' is the stain behind this statue of the Virgin Mary, which is said to represent the Virgin itself and be irremovable by scrubbing or painting. Rather a nice testimony for a church which is a great survivor.

I'm a great fan of small museums - the variety and value of the objects often impresses. Here you find Roman statuary, giant fossils (of course), medieval artefacts, items relating to social history like this set of stocks and memorabilia of local celebrity, the wonderful Victorian dialect poet the Rev. William Barnes.

But you have to pay attention: I almost missed this delightful late-seventeenth-century stumpwork box, had not a postcard of it caught my attention, followed by the chief curator showing me exactly where to find it, concealed under a cover. It was hard to photograph under a glass case, but I did my best, but postcards taken in optimal conditions still have their place!

I've seen plenty of 18th century chinoiserie in my time, but this room is sometime else - a marrying of the rococo style of the house with vivid European fantasies about China.

I've been to many Palladian mansions in my time, but none matches Stowe. I thought it would be comparable to Stourhead, but its about three times the size: you couldn't really cover it in less than a whole day. The gardens are dotted with all sorts of follies, from the many Greek temples, to the famous Temple of Worthies, to a gothic folly.

You had to buy tickets for the house separately but I'm so glad I did because it is equally stunning. I wanted to go after reading T.B. White's Mistress Masham's Repose which is partly inspired by the grounds. In the book they are secretly occupied by the last remnants of the civilisation of Lilliput and I can see why they would have thought the gardens a country in themselves, requiring treks of several days for little people to explore. When White was writing Stowe was one of many stately homes which had been put up for sale, becoming a school in the early 20th century, and the house White describes is in a sorry state of repair. Not so today when much effort continues to restore it to its former glories.

I wonder whether those schoolboys appreciate it! Spare a thought though for the ordinary people driven from the land for this vast 18th century vanity project - the church was left with no parishioners.

The only women who gets a look-in at the Temple of Worthies.

Amongst several witchcraft charges against Margaret and Gwenllian David of Llangadock in 1656, Margaret was said to have cured sheep with water and earth from Jerusalem and a magic bone, while reciting a charm.

Gwenllian Owen testified that when her face was black and blue from her husband's abuse, Margaret said that, given a band-string or point from his cod-piece, she could make an end of him. Gwenllian refused the offer because he was the father of her six children.

In my last post I complained about the exclusion of anything by women from a book of 100 great portraits. To rectify this, here are some great portraits by women, all of them of women.

The Game of Chess by Sofonisba Anguissola (1555)

This is unusual in depicting women not as sex objects or mothers, but simply having fun, playing a game more usually played by elite men.

Two Women Sewing, Five Feminine Occupations, by Geertruydt Roghman, 1640-1657

An unvarnished series of depictions of women's work, with women often shown from behind.

Elizabeth Murray, Countess of Dysart with her first husband and sister, Joan Carlile, 1648

This painting is at Ham House. The National Trust describes the composition as awkward and 'experimental' but I rather like it, the way the family are depicted with a sense of movement, the resemblance between the sisters, and the shimmering fabrics.

Ragazza con pappagallo, Rosalba Carriera, c. 1730

Female artists often seem to have succeeded in a man's world by carving a specialist niche for themselves. Rosalba Carrera, a Venetian artist, was known as the 'Queen of pastels' which were bought by young men on the grand tour.

Julie as Flora, Roman Goddess Of Flowers by Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun, c. 1799

Le Brun was famous for her portraits of women, of domestic affection between mothers and children, including Maria Antoinette and her family.

In the Loge, by Mary Cassatt, 1878

This painting famously subverts all the conventions of the masculine gaze in art.

Jour d'été, Berthe Morisot, 1879

As the recent exhibition at the Dulwich Picture Gallery revealed, Morisot is a truly great artist, who took the tools of impressionism, and used them to say something quite different than her male contemporaries, about the limitations of women's position in 19th century society. You have to see the paintings in person because much of her greatness lies in her brush-strokes.

Fine Feathers, by Laura Knight, 1939