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拍品专文
This view of Venice’s iconic Rialto Bridge, which extends on the left from the Fondamenta del Vin to the Rialto bridge and the corner of the Palazzo dei Camerlenghi, is unique in Canaletto’s work and can be dated to the period around 1740 on stylistic grounds. Canaletto was at this moment the unquestioned master of Venetian views. Rather than transcribe indiscriminately the structures along this part of the Grand Canal, Canaletto removed several undistinguished houses on the Fondamenta del Ferro on the right, the lottery booths in front of them, two sections of the facades between the Palazzo Dolfin-Manin and the Rialto and moving the campanile of the church of San Bartolomeo. This enabled the artist to retain the imposing architecture of the Palazzo Dolfin-Manin by Jacopo Sansovino and turn it and the Rialto Bridge into foils for the events at the center of the composition. These changes are particularly evident when the present painting is compared with a similar view in the Musée Jacquemart-André, Paris (fig. 1).
It has traditionally been suggested that the painting records the visit to Venice of Prince Frederick Christian of Saxony, son of Frederick Augustus III, the Elector of Saxony and King of Poland. The seventeen-year-old Prince’s visit, which began with his arrival at the end of December 1739 and ended 10 June 1740, was an exceptional event in the life of Venice’s residents. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689-1762), wife of Mr. Edward Wortley Montagu (1678-1761), chronicled the Prince’s time in Venice in a series of letters penned in the final months of 1739. Writing to Lady Pomfret in November or December 1739, she noted that ‘The Prince of Saxony is expected here in a few days, and has taken a place exactly over against my house’. In another letter dated 25 December 1740 and written to her husband shortly after the Prince’s arrival, she discussed the state of affairs in greater detail: ‘The Electoral Prince of Saxony is here in public, and makes a prodigious expense. His governor (tutor) is Count Wackerbart…The Prince…stays till the second of May; in the meantime, there are entertainments given him almost every day of one sort or another, and a regatta preparing, which is expected by all strangers with good impatience. He went to see the Arsenal three days ago, waited on by a numerous nobility of both sexes; the Bucentaur was adorned and launched, a magnificent collation given, and we sailed a little way in it…’ (Lord Wharncliffe, ed., The Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, London, 1898, pp. 53ff). The regatta proved to be one of the most memorable of its time. Lady Mary mentions how the regatta was ‘a race of boats: they are accompanied by vessels which they call Poites, and Bichones, that are built at the expenses of the nobles and strangers that have a mind to display their magnificence’ (op. cit.).
The gilded peote that feature in this painting are similar to those that appear in Luca Carlevarijs’ Arrival of the German Ambassador, Count Colloredo, at the Ducal Palace of 1726 (fig. 2; Gemäldegalerie, Dresden), while the red, blue and white livery and headdresses of the gondoliers are distinctive. A letter dated 4 September 1740 from Lady Mary’s correspondent, Lady Ponfret, indicates what an exceptional occasion Lady Mary was witnessing: such a regatta ‘has not been seen for near forty years, and is never performed but on the visit of a sovereign prince (op. cit., pp. 19-23). The lavish spectacle would not have been lost on contemporary viewers. Conspicuous displays of wealth were not allowed among Venetian citizens, with an edict of 1633 expressly forbidding the use of anything but black gondolas. The sumptuary laws, however, allowed foreigners to use any colors and materials.
More recently, the identification of the event depicted in Canaletto’s painting has come into question. In 2017, Peter Kerber (loc. cit.) pointed out that the teenage heir was handicapped and therefore unable to walk without assistance due to what was described at the time as ‘palsy’. His ailment meant that he needed to be supported while standing up and transported through the city in a sedan chair. Kerber suggests instead that the view does not portray Friedrich Christian ‘but an ambassador and his retinue who, having walked through the Merceria after receiving a response from the Senate, are about to board their parade gondolas at the Rialto Bridge’ (op. cit., p. 48). Though unable to provide a conclusive reidentification of the subject, Kerber suggests the painting may instead depict either the official entry of Charles François de Froulay (1673-1744), French ambassador to Venice from October 1733 to February 1743, on 21 April 1738 or an embarkation of Pio di Savoia, the imperial ambassador from June 1732 to December 1743, after receiving a response to an inquiry made to the Senate. The red and blue liveries in the painting would have been appropriate for both the French and imperial ambassadors’ gondoliers. Similarly, the gondolas broadly comport with what was known of Pio da Savoia’s retinue, with the exception of the third gondola’s roof, which is described as being covered in green velvet though here has a gold color. The report describing Froulay’s official entry is unfortunately not preserved, though the most noteworthy vessel used by Froulay’s successor, Gergy, had a red lacquer hull. No such boat appears in this painting, though it is possible the gondola was refurbished or replaced in the interim.
It has traditionally been suggested that the painting records the visit to Venice of Prince Frederick Christian of Saxony, son of Frederick Augustus III, the Elector of Saxony and King of Poland. The seventeen-year-old Prince’s visit, which began with his arrival at the end of December 1739 and ended 10 June 1740, was an exceptional event in the life of Venice’s residents. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689-1762), wife of Mr. Edward Wortley Montagu (1678-1761), chronicled the Prince’s time in Venice in a series of letters penned in the final months of 1739. Writing to Lady Pomfret in November or December 1739, she noted that ‘The Prince of Saxony is expected here in a few days, and has taken a place exactly over against my house’. In another letter dated 25 December 1740 and written to her husband shortly after the Prince’s arrival, she discussed the state of affairs in greater detail: ‘The Electoral Prince of Saxony is here in public, and makes a prodigious expense. His governor (tutor) is Count Wackerbart…The Prince…stays till the second of May; in the meantime, there are entertainments given him almost every day of one sort or another, and a regatta preparing, which is expected by all strangers with good impatience. He went to see the Arsenal three days ago, waited on by a numerous nobility of both sexes; the Bucentaur was adorned and launched, a magnificent collation given, and we sailed a little way in it…’ (Lord Wharncliffe, ed., The Letters and Works of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, London, 1898, pp. 53ff). The regatta proved to be one of the most memorable of its time. Lady Mary mentions how the regatta was ‘a race of boats: they are accompanied by vessels which they call Poites, and Bichones, that are built at the expenses of the nobles and strangers that have a mind to display their magnificence’ (op. cit.).
The gilded peote that feature in this painting are similar to those that appear in Luca Carlevarijs’ Arrival of the German Ambassador, Count Colloredo, at the Ducal Palace of 1726 (fig. 2; Gemäldegalerie, Dresden), while the red, blue and white livery and headdresses of the gondoliers are distinctive. A letter dated 4 September 1740 from Lady Mary’s correspondent, Lady Ponfret, indicates what an exceptional occasion Lady Mary was witnessing: such a regatta ‘has not been seen for near forty years, and is never performed but on the visit of a sovereign prince (op. cit., pp. 19-23). The lavish spectacle would not have been lost on contemporary viewers. Conspicuous displays of wealth were not allowed among Venetian citizens, with an edict of 1633 expressly forbidding the use of anything but black gondolas. The sumptuary laws, however, allowed foreigners to use any colors and materials.
More recently, the identification of the event depicted in Canaletto’s painting has come into question. In 2017, Peter Kerber (loc. cit.) pointed out that the teenage heir was handicapped and therefore unable to walk without assistance due to what was described at the time as ‘palsy’. His ailment meant that he needed to be supported while standing up and transported through the city in a sedan chair. Kerber suggests instead that the view does not portray Friedrich Christian ‘but an ambassador and his retinue who, having walked through the Merceria after receiving a response from the Senate, are about to board their parade gondolas at the Rialto Bridge’ (op. cit., p. 48). Though unable to provide a conclusive reidentification of the subject, Kerber suggests the painting may instead depict either the official entry of Charles François de Froulay (1673-1744), French ambassador to Venice from October 1733 to February 1743, on 21 April 1738 or an embarkation of Pio di Savoia, the imperial ambassador from June 1732 to December 1743, after receiving a response to an inquiry made to the Senate. The red and blue liveries in the painting would have been appropriate for both the French and imperial ambassadors’ gondoliers. Similarly, the gondolas broadly comport with what was known of Pio da Savoia’s retinue, with the exception of the third gondola’s roof, which is described as being covered in green velvet though here has a gold color. The report describing Froulay’s official entry is unfortunately not preserved, though the most noteworthy vessel used by Froulay’s successor, Gergy, had a red lacquer hull. No such boat appears in this painting, though it is possible the gondola was refurbished or replaced in the interim.