Ancient Temple

 

 

Vestibule of an Ancient Temple [...] (Vestibolo d'antico Tempio [...]), Part One of “Architecture and Perspectives,” Plate 13, c. 1742, Etching on wove paper, Sheet/Page (trimmed) 25.56 H x 35.56 W cm (10 1/16 H x 14 W in), Gift from the Trustees of the Corcoran Gallery of Art (Bequest of Frank B. Bristow), GW Collection (CGA.68.26.700)

 

By Elizabeth Damon

Though classically trained in printmaking, Giovanni Battista Piranesi always considered himself an architect, depicting monumental architecture and invented spaces. His fascination with ancient civilizations, especially Rome, found expression in varied depictions of Ancient Roman society: recreated plans of archaic engineering, strikingly accurate captures of crumbling ruins, and grand structures that were borne entirely of his imagination. The “pleasure of ruins” was spreading around Europe like wildfire, a wave that Piranesi rode with the art he was developing. One of his earliest series, Prima Parte di Architettura, e Prospettive, is primarily composed of imagined spaces on a grand scale. His time spent studying and reproducing the likenesses of ruins in Rome allowed him to greatly hone his skills in realistic depictions, but he felt that simply showing the crumbling buildings did not do justice to all that they had once been. His imagination is captured in an iconic quote: “I need to produce great ideas, and I believe that if I were commissioned to design a new universe, I would be mad enough to undertake it.” Piranesi’s etchings of potential great spaces reflect this deep inspiration.

The most immediately noticeable aspect of Vestibule of an Ancient Temple is the precise detail with which it is rendered. The entire image is only 33.7 centimeters tall and 49.4 centimeters wide, yet Piranesi managed to pack every aspect of the composition with embellishments that bring the temple to life. This massive shrine is rendered in one-point perspective; the technique has a single vanishing point on the horizon where all lines converge, making this etching on the two-dimensional sheet seem to recede in the distance. The vanishing point falls at the top of the farthest arch in the distance, which draws attention to the main altar as the focal point of both the temple’s ritual use and the image itself.

Elaborate Corinthian columns tower over each of the three gaping cellae, supporting a thick frieze which runs the perimeter of each room, only interrupted by an arched entry to the next room. These arches have immense diameters that dramatically rise up over each doorway and emphasize the colossal scale of the temple. Support for the temple’s soaring ceiling is aided by three different shapes of coffers, carved out to lighten the load of the roof. Square coffers arc along each passageway, octagonal ones line the ceiling, and diamond-shaped coffers weave up towards a dome in the central room. Though a product of Piranesi’s imagination, this grandiose structure follows realistic constraints and is depicted in such depth that the viewer could imagine it as a snapshot of history.

Even when illustrating real spaces, Piranesi brought an illusionistic eye to each etching. His work became more popular than any previous images of Rome because he embraced the hallmarks of Renaissance art, which included dramatic, dynamic compositions and starkly contrasted the elements of light and shadow. The influence of Raphael’s School of Athens can be clearly seen in this piece as well. The large, arching ceiling receding into the back echoes the vast space depicted in the infamous fresco. Though empty, the halls of Piranesi’s etching beckon massive presences like those seen in Raphael’s painting. Through Piranesi’s depiction of a temple fit for great minds like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, he expertly pays homage not only to a great artist of Renaissance painting but also to the ideological implications of humanism.

Contrary to Raphael’s bustling paintings, Piranesi departed from this style by rendering structures with minimal use of human figures. Piranesi’s artistic attention to detail presented itself in the form of architectural embellishments, which created just as much movement and emotion as a human face did in other artists’ works. To accentuate the drama of his pieces even more, Piranesi toyed with the perspective from which a space was drawn. Vestibolo d’antico Templo offers a rather low perspective, though still higher than a human would have viewed the space. Another one of his works from Vedute di Roma, depicting the Pantheon, is from a high vantage point overlooking the massive cella, with columns obscuring the view of the room unfolding in the distance, creating the illusion that it was drawn from an aerial view. 

 

Inscription in Italian

Vestibolo & antico Tempio, oltre il quale 3 entra nella Cella, per cui si gira all intorno con tre Navate principali Si scuopre pure un lontano la gran Cappella ove sta situata l'Area principale per Sacrifizi.

English Translation by Andrew Gibson:

Vestibule of an ancient Temple, beyond which you enter the Cella, through which you round the three main Naves. One can also see in the distance the large Chapel in which the main sacrificial Altar is located. 

 

Bibliography

 

Piranesi, Giovanni Battista, and Gillian Furlong. “The Ruins of Rome, Seen through 18th-Century Eyes.” In Treasures from UCL, 1st ed., 112–13. UCL Press, 2015. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt1g69xrh.39.

 

Thompson, Wendy. “Giovanni Battista Piranesi (1720–1778).” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000–. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/pira/hd_pira.htm (October 2003).

 

Zucker, Paul. “Ruins. An Aesthetic Hybrid.” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 20, no. 2 (1961): 119–30. https://doi.org/10.2307/427461.