The History of Painting in Italy, Vol. 4 (of 6) From the Period of the Revival of the Fine Arts to the End of the Eighteenth Century — Inside the Classic

Lanzi’s Dramatic Metaphor and Its Limits

Lanzi introduces a striking metaphor: the schools of Florence, Rome, Venice, and Bologna are like dramas with a consistent unity of place—the capital city—where principal actors remain in action. Lombardy, however, requires a different arrangement because its history involves multiple cities and a more diffuse set of influences. This metaphor is not merely decorative; it shapes how Lanzi organizes his material. He treats each school as a distinct narrative with its own epochs, but he also cross-references artists across schools, as when he discusses Giulio Campi’s borrowings from Raffaello, Coreggio, and Titian. The metaphor’s limits become apparent when Lanzi notes that in Lombardy, the “unity of place” is not preserved; instead, the reader must follow the art from Mantua to Modena to Parma and beyond. This structural choice reflects Lanzi’s conviction that Lombard painting cannot be understood through a single center.

Giulio Campi as a Case Study in Eclecticism

The excerpts devote considerable attention to Giulio Campi, a painter whose style Lanzi describes as partaking of “the manner of so many different artists.” Lanzi traces Campi’s development from preparatory studies and imitation of Raffaello and Coreggio to a mature style that could be mistaken for Titian or Pordenone. In the church of S. Margherita, Lanzi and an unnamed professor notice heads drawn after different models, leading Lanzi to compare Campi to the Caracci, in whom “one kind of taste prevails, and in another an opposite manner.” Lanzi also highlights Campi’s attention to nature, noting that he selected from life and inculcated this practice upon his brothers. The result is a distinctive local character: heads with ribbon-bound hair, as was customary in the city. Lanzi’s method here is to build a portrait of an artist through specific works—the S. Girolamo in Mantua, the Pentecost in Cremona, the labors of Hercules at Soragno—each demonstrating a different influence.

The Role of the Translator in Shaping Lanzi’s Voice

Thomas Roscoe’s translation, published in 1828, renders Lanzi’s Italian into a fluent, slightly formal English that preserves the author’s analytical tone. The excerpts show Roscoe handling technical terms with care: he writes of “foreshortening,” “distribution of colours,” and “the effects of lights and shadows.” He also retains Lanzi’s occasional first-person intrusions, as when Lanzi recalls visiting S. Margherita “in company with an able professor of the art.” These moments give the text a conversational, almost anecdotal quality that balances its scholarly weight. Roscoe’s choices affect the reader’s experience: his sentence structures are often periodic, building up layers of observation before arriving at a conclusion. This style suits Lanzi’s method of accumulating evidence from multiple works before pronouncing a judgment. The translation thus becomes an integral part of how Lanzi’s arguments are received by an English-speaking audience.

Readers approaching this volume should attend to Lanzi’s habit of comparing artists across schools and his use of specific works as evidence. The excerpts offer only fragments of his larger argument, but they reveal a historian who values precise observation over generalization. Pay attention to how Lanzi describes individual paintings—the details of composition, color, and influence—and how he weaves those details into a narrative about regional style. The translator’s voice is also worth noting: Roscoe’s English shapes the rhythm of Lanzi’s prose, making it accessible while retaining its scholarly character.