The Business of Being A Renaissance Artist

In addition to painting, Perugino, Raphael, and Tintoretto managed their businesses, money, patrons, and careers. They were creators, as well as human resource managers, marketers, chief executive and chief financial officer. As entrepreneurs, artists forged their way in competitive environments and created their own brands to self-fashion their identities. No two artists took the same path constructing their business model; no one model worked for all. Some cared a lot about money and watched their investments carefully (Michelangelo) while some were more relaxed about their financial affairs (Leonardo). Some thrived managing a large workshop (Raphael, Bernini), others preferred to work independently (Caravaggio).

Artist’s status changed from craftspeople in the 1300s to semi-independent creatives by the time Michelangelo died in the late sixteenth century and in the next century when Bernini finished St. Peter’s colonnade. There were many ways to manage their livelihoods, money, and how they positioned their creative skills. Their management skills built their careers--or hindered their growth.

Jacopo Robusti (Tintoretto), Last Judgement detail, Madonna dell’Orto, 1558-60, Venice, Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

Pietro Perugino (1446-1523) was an elite artist who worked in the Vatican for Popes Sixtus IV and Julius II, for high-end patrons such as Lorenzo de’ Medici, and Isabella d’Este. He ran a large workshop in Urbino and worked in Umbria, Florence, and Rome. His religious paintings were in great demand, so much so that he privileged production over innovation and faced devastating criticism from his peers.

He reconstituted poses in paintings by reusing cartoons (full-size drawings). One way to transfer cartoons to the damp plaster wall for fresco is by pricking the cartoon with tiny holes along the edges. When placed against the wall and pounced with an ash-like substance, an outline of the figures appears on the plaster. Perugino standardized components of his paintings by re-using the cartoons, flipping them over to create a mirror image, or using them for a different painting. This technique saved time and allowed for increased production. It also gave the figures a static and predictable quality. Many of his paintings have similar poses and gestures. Instead of spending time on research and development, creating new expressions and activating his figures, he sided on more production, repeating formulas that had been proven successful.

Perugino worked in an era of artistic innovation but did not embrace the new, preferring to repeat what had worked in the past. Michelangelo had recently finished his monumental David, and Leonardo had completed the Last Supper and had started the Mona Lisa. Perugino experienced ridicule and derision when his Assumption of the Virgin altarpiece for the Florentine church Santissima Annunziata was unveiled in 1507. Raphael, Michelangelo, and Leonardo witnessed the event. Michelangelo publicly stated Perugino was “clumsy in his trade” and was “harshly attacked by all the young artisans,” especially because Pietro had re-used figures which he had placed in his works on other occasions.”* 

Pietro Perugino, Assumption of the Virgin, 1506, Santissima Annunziata Altarpiece, Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

Perugino’s neatly symmetrical composition consists of two groups on earth looking upwards towards the Virgin Mary as she is assumed into heaven. Angels accompany her divine mandorla to paradise, where musicians await her. With few exceptions, the angels and earthbound groups appear as mirror images, almost identical, like an inkblot. Particularly noticeable are the upturned heads crooked to the side, similar facial features, and figures with weight distributed on one leg. The two angels are most likely from the same reversed cartoon. Compared to works from his Florentine peers, the Assumption looks dated, slightly old-fashioned, and out of touch.

Perugino seemed perplexed. He admitted re-using elements, but since it had worked in the past, why not continue? He was by no means the only artist to do this, as Sandro Botticelli and Piero della Francesca also re-cycled parts of their cartoons.

Times and tastes were shifting. Artists were keenly aware of production, patrons, and the market. They were not working in silos. Artistic standards changed, and Perugino did not. The altarpiece was his last commission in Florence. Shortly after, he moved to Umbria, where he failed to secure additional important commissions.

Raphael Sanzio's (1483-1520) breakthrough moment came painting Pope Julius II’s private apartments in the Vatican with his masterpiece, the School of Athens. He quickly gained favor with the next pope, Leo X. In less than a decade he went from apprentice to Perugino to architect of St. Peter's, designer of tapestries, portrait painter, and collaborating with printers. Raphael was not interested in grinding out look-alike copies of portraits or religious paintings.

Raphael, School of Athens, begun 1508, Stanza della Segnatura, Vatican, Rome, photo Gerriann Brower.

He ran a large business enterprise and was interested in aligning the right artists with their expertise. His approach was unique and, from what we know, quite different from other masters.  Instead of a cadre of assistants trained only to imitate the master, he carefully assembled specialized teams of artists. Raphael looked to his team to work through and respond to problems that arose in developing poses, compositions, and lighting. They contributed solutions to bring the idea to life. If he was not knowledgeable in a technique, he found someone who was. It was the only way to move forward with large-scale commissions for tapestries, architectural projects, and fresco cycles.

As Raphael’s commissions and demands on his time grew, he reallocated resources from being a manufacturer of art to managing innovation. In modern terms, his business focus started out as a producer and shifted to research and development. He wasn’t alone in this trend, as Leonardo and Michelangelo also focused on research and development. Research and development meant a great deal of preparatory drawings and sketches, individualizing poses, gestures, expressions, colors, lighting, and composition specific to the scene and patron. In other words, innovating. Customizing the artwork became necessary to make one’s mark in the sixteenth century.

Raphael scaled up his process to create artwork on a massive level for his patrons. His response to increased demand was to employ bespoke artists to fit the needs of the commission. Leonardo and Michelangelo had artists who imitated and absorbed their approaches and style, but they had no desire to create a Raphael-like academy to produce artwork. Not every work Raphael was involved with was as brilliant as the Vatican School of Athens in the Stanza della Segnatura, or his portraits of the popes. Some figures in other large-scale frescoes are less refined and appear ungainly because of workshop involvement. His assistants were well-paid, more so than usual for young men in workshops. Some set up their own studios.

Marcantonio Raimondi, after Raphael, Adam and Eve Flanked by Two Trees, 1512-14, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, open access. 

Raphael innovated by allowing and encouraging prints to be made of his artwork. This was cutting-edge for the sixteenth century. Some artists, like Michelangelo, hated having prints made of his artwork, as he wished to maintain creative control. Raphael saw the advantage in the mass distribution of his artwork.

Engraver Marcantonio Raimondi became Raphael’s printing partner. They were both in the right place at the right time and ready to take a chance with printing. Marcantonio started this collaboration by making engravings after Raphael's drawings. They worked closely together for ten years. They both benefited from the ability to disseminate and reproduce Raphael’s visual vocabulary. Raimondi engraved Adam and Eve at the height of their collaboration. Raphael designed some compositions only for engraving, while Raimondi also made engravings after Raphael’s paintings. Prints of his artwork circulated widely in Western Europe and increased his visibility.

By self-publishing his artwork, he gained creative control. There was no need for a patron, only the engraver, printers, and merchants to sell and distribute. This was an enviable position. Production costs and time were minimal compared to fresco or oil painting. Engraving and printmaking had the ability for endless reproduction as the sixteenth-century equivalent to photography.

Tintoretto

Everything about Jacopo Robusti was different. Jacopo competed in a crowded international art market dominated by Titian. Born in Venice, his father was a dyer, a tintore, and from his profession, the artist earned his name, Tintoretto, the little dyer boy. He never traveled to Florence or Rome and never cultivated an elite patronage of dukes, princes, or popes. Venetian at heart, his greatest patrons were lay confraternities, established Venetian nobility, and the Venetian Republic. He left Venice only once in his life.

Tintoretto’s business model and method of painting sent a message to the Venetian art world—to succeed, do it differently from everyone else. Tintoretto promoted he was self-taught, which was partially true since he lacked a mentor. His marketing plan was unique. It was difficult to make one’s mark within the confines of the Venetian islands and he found it helpful to buck tradition.

Tintoretto held true to two tenets of his business model throughout his career. One was to undercut on price, and the other to paint quickly. Biographers remarked on how he would underestimate pricing for patrons. He even frescoed exteriors for little or no cost to gain visibility in the city, gave away paintings to gain access to elite clients, and took on large-scale painting for the cost of supplies.

Tintoretto aggressively pursued commissions, leaving no stone unturned. His abrupt personality and painting style did not please everyone; nevertheless, he won commissions. His style of painting fast with loose brushstrokes was initially career-limiting. Most of his paintings contain an element of controlled chaos. Tintoretto is not particularly interested in balanced compositions or in representing correct linear or atmospheric perspective. It’s all about the characters in the scene and the drama they bring to the story. He preferred compositions with striking diagonals, placing the viewer off-center. Darker tonalities prevail, often with crowded scenes.

Jacopo Robusti (Tintoretto), Last Judgement and Making of the Golden Calf, Madonna dell’Orto, 1558-60, Venice, Wikimedia Commons, public domain.

Tintoretto resorted to a pro bono proposition in order to get additional commissions, something other Venetian painters did not need or want to do. He made an unbelievable proposal to the church leaders of Madonna dell’Orto. He would paint two huge, forty-seven feet tall canvases in his neighborhood church in return for materials. They agreed, not willing to pass up such a bargain, and paid him one hundred ducats for the paintings. The payment equaled to a year’s wages for a seasoned teacher or notary. His motive was to get noticed as the most daring painter in the world.

The monumental paintings of the Last Judgement and the Making of the Golden Calf are maturing works where he continues to refine compositional elements. The Last Judgement is the less successful of the two. His dark ground over gesso makes it difficult to distinguish individual figures. Seen in person, it is hard to tell apart the multitude of bodies tumbling up or down. The Golden Calf allows for fewer figures and dramatic lighting to feature key figures. The magnitude of the canvas paintings brought him positive attention.

As commissions mounted, he established a Robusti studio with his son, daughter, and other artists. The studio was well-run and organized. As he grew older, he became the CEO, negotiating terms and obtaining commissions as the frontman. Tintoretto would draft out a basic composition, but the studio artists were the worker bees. On important commissions, he would paint the faces or key elements, but left the rest to his helpers. Quality suffered. Neither his family nor assistants could convey Tintoretto’s dynamic energy.

He spent a lifetime building his artistic legacy. After he died, the Robusti studio carried on for nearly forty years, but as a second-rate studio, producing paintings that were less creative and more focused on production. Without Tintoretto’s direct involvement, the artwork lost market share and value. His brand depended on his personality and connection to the community.

By the time Jacopo Robusti died, Italian painting was on the verge of a major transformation. A young and equally brash artist named Caravaggio entered the Roman art scene. Six years later, Caravaggio’s modern canvases took Rome by storm. His canvases in the S. Luigi dei Francesi Contarelli Chapel and Santa Maria del Popolo changed the art world. He took painting in a different direction with dramatic chiaroscuro lighting, fewer figures, and a heightened sense of drama. Working alone, often on the run from the law, he never established a workshop. He hardly lacked for patrons and died young with many imitators and followers, but no direct heirs.

Sources

Echols, Robert and Frederick Ilchman. Tintoretto: Artist of Renaissance Venice. Yale University Press, 2018.

O’Malley, Michelle. “Quality, Demand, and the Pressures of Reputation: Rethinking Perugino.” The Art Bulletin, vol. 89, no. 4, 2007, pp 674-93.

Shearman, John. “The Organization of Raphael’s Workshop.” The Art Institute of Chicago Museum Studies, vol. 10, 1983, 41-57.

Talvacchia, Bette. “Raphael's Workshop and the Development of a Managerial Style.” Marcia Hall, editor, The Cambridge Companion to Raphael, Cambridge University Press, 2005, 167-186.

Vasari, Giorgio. The Lives of the Artists. Translated by Julia Conaway Bondanella and Peter Bondanella. Oxford University Press, 1991.

*Vasari, 264-65