Benozzo Gozzoli's Byzantine-Florentine Advent Calendar (Part 1)

Last Christmas I posted about Benozzo Gozzoli’s Journey of the Magi in Florence’s the Medici Chapel and the historical figures in the painting which reveal themselves one by one, almost like a Renaissance advent calendar. This year I want to return to that thought in a little more detail (in fact it will take several long posts).

The fresco adorns the walls of the Medici-Riccardi chapel, Cosimo de' Medici chose Benozzo Gozzoli to decorate the chapel and his younger son, Piero, was tasked with supervising the project.

When looking at the figures and interpreting the painting’s message it’s very easy to allow hindsight to cloud the modern eye. The work was completed through the spring and summer of 1459, so it is important to understand the Medici family context of this moment in time. 

Firstly, as mentioned, Piero (whom history would later dub ‘the Gouty’) was the younger son of Cosimo. His older brother, Giovanni, was Cosimo’s heir. If life had proceeded as expected from this moment, Giovanni would have managed the Medici banking empire and then passed it on to his young son Cosimino. Piero’s elder son, Lorenzo, may well have still made a name for himself but perhaps been less magnificent. Fate had other plans. Cosimino died later that year and Giovanni in 1463. So by the time Cosimo died in 1464, the Medici line of succession diverted onto Piero and Lorenzo’s branc h but only at this point, four years after the paint had dried on these walls. Commentary on the painting often places Lorenzo (and his brother Giuliano) into the centre of the piece but that would have made no sense at all at the time it was commissioned. 

On the surface, the picture tells the biblical story of the 3 wise men (or 3 kings) coming to view the new-born Christ child (the Adoration of the Child is depicted in the adjoining chancel). The procession extends across three walls, with a different king on each wall: first comes the old king, Melchior, and his retinue on the west wall. The middle king, Balthazar, is on the south wall and the young king, Caspar, comes last on the east wall. But as was common with art of the time, the biblical imagery is a vehicle for a contemporary message and the message here is the glorification of the Medici.

Perhaps the great international triumph of Cosimo’s life took place in 1439. An ecumenical council had been taking place in Ferrara between representatives of the Latin church and the Byzantine Emperor John VIII and representatives of the Greek church. With the Turks threatening to overrun the Byzantine empire once and for all, John had come to Italy to beg for help and would go so far as to end the Great Schism, unifying the divided church after almost 400 years. 

Like all the great ecumenical councils, it was marked by heated debate and dragged on. The Byzantine emperor had travelled with an entourage of 700 and by the summer of 1439, the Pope was struggling to pay for their keep. Smelling opportunity, Cosimo stepped in, underwriting the costs if the council shifted to Florence. On 15 February 1439 (the Sunday of carnevale) the Emperor made his entrance into Florence, with all the glamour that the ancient imperial title still imparted, however much his material wealth had waned. Cosimo had the money but his ‘rule’ of Florence was a grey-area of legitimacy by bringing the Emperor to town as his guest he was gaining incredible cudos. Again, context is important. Cosimo had fled Florence into exile only six years previously before a banking crisis (which he in-part promulgated) allowed his return the next year in 1434. It could be said that the Council of Florence was the moment Medici rule of the city was solidified (if not wholly legitimised). The Act of Union was signed in on 6th July, then officially proclaimed the union in the form of a bull, Laetentur Coeli which was read out in Greek by Bessarion and Latin by Cardinal cessarini from the pulpit of Florence Cathedral.

It is this triumph (in both senses of the word) which we see depicted in the Magi chapel. The procession in Gozzoli’s fresco commemorates the journey of the Byzantine delegation to Florence. When this is understood, the faces in the painting become much easier to interpret.

Of note also was Gozzoli’s link to the Council of Florence. In 1439 he was an apprentice to Fra Angelico, working on the painting of San Marco, which was where the Byzantine delegation was staying. Gozzoli had first hand experience of this event and the notable members of the delegation who he would later place into his masterpiece. 

Although twenty years had passed since the Council of Florence, it would still have hung like a phantom around Gozzoli in 1459 as he etched the faces onto the wall. Another council was taking place that year up the road at Mantua. Like the council of Ferrara-Florence, this one was also prompted by what might be termed ‘The Turk problem’. Signing the Act of Union had not spared Byzantium. Constantinople fell in 1453, sending a shockwave across Christendom. Pius II made reclaiming the Holy city the central tenet of his papacy and convened the Council at Mantua to try and get the princes of Europe to commit to a crusade.

Placed almost mid-way between Rome and Mantua, Florence would have seen a lot of dignitaries passing through it on their way to the council. We know for certain Sigismondo Malatesta met Pope Pius in Florence that April and both appear in the painting. Also there that April was Galeazzo Maria Sforza, heir to Milan, who wrote a letter about his two week stay and who appears in the painting alongside Malatesta.

The wings of the procession, to the right of the old king and left of the young, is a cavalcade of figures in contemporary renaissance dress and Gozzoli’s incredible skill here means the faces are identifiable portraits. Taking each wall in turn we can find a huge number of famous 15th century faces starting out from this incredible piece of art.