Two famous monks lived in the San Marco monastery. One was an angelic artist who helped usher in the renaissance. The other – a notorious politician, who almost brought the Renaissance down.
Our visit provided an intimate peak into the spiritual life of 15th-century Florence. Within, we saw the world’s best collection of paintings by the monk known as Fra Angelico. His radiant work fuses medieval faith with Renaissance realism. Then we got to explore the living quarters of the monastery – the cloister, the common rooms, and the bedrooms (or cells) of the monks who lived there. Finally, we got to see the rooms of the monastery’s most infamous resident – Savonarola.
Almost immediately upon entering, you can feel the spirituality of this place. It’s a cool respite form the intensity of modern Florence. The courtyard, or cloister, was where the monks would gather. They could get out of their tiny cells, socialize a bit, stretch their legs, and commune with nature.
The monastery welcomed in a community of Dominican monks. One of those monks was a promising artist who would soon revolutionize painting – Fra Angelico. In a side chamber called the Hospice, we find ourselves in a large room filled with Fra Angelico paintings. This room alone could be considered one of the world’s greatest museums of Fra Angelico’s art.
Christ has just been crucified. His sad followers gently lower his body from the cross. On the left are the grieving women, wearing golden haloes. On the right, the perplexed men. At the foot of the cross, Mary Magdalene kneels to tenderly kiss the toes of Jesus. The center of the painting is Christ’s body, stretched diagonally across the scene, uniting it all.
This paining is a great introduction to all of Fra Angelico’s art. For Fra Angelico, paining was a form of prayer. His art was meant for churches and monasteries, not palaces or museums. Fra Angelico creates an ethereal world: serene faces, golden halos, blue skies, pink robes, and no shadows. It’s filled with beautiful, meticulously painted details. He creates a mystical realm that seems to glow from within, like a stained-glass window.
This paining mixes both medieval and Renaissance elements. First, it’s a typical medieval altarpiece – divided into three parts, with a gold frame, and people with gold-plate haloes. And Christ’s stretched out body? – that’s hardly realistic. He’s posed symbolically, displayed like the “body of Christ” – the communion bread.
But Fra Angelico also knew the latest Renaissance techniques, like the revolution in 3-D. Look: There’s a clearly defined foreground – the kneeling man in red – and a background: the distant city and hills. In between , the middle ground is established with trees. Within that 3-D space, Fra Angelico places his figures. Fra Angelico also understood foreshortening. Look at the man in green, who’s lowering Christ’s body. He bends forward realistically, at an angle that’s very difficult to draw.
Fra Angelico brings this holy scene to life. He places it in our real world of grass, flowers, trees, and billowing clouds. It’s true that Fra Angelico was an ascetic monk in a medieval monastery. But there was one pleasure he refused to renounce – his joy in the natural beauty of God’s creation.
In the painting above (The Triptych of St. Peter Martyr), Mary and the Baby Jesus are flanked by saints. Notice how much bigger Mary is than the saints. That’s because she’s symbolically more important.
The saints are members of the Dominican order – as was Fra Angelico. When he joined the order, he had his head shaved in the same tonsured hairstyle these guys wear.
He donned the same white robes with black cape. He was given a nickname – “Fra Angelico” – that means “Angelic Brother”. He was now part of the brotherhood founded by St. Dominic… who stands at the far left. The Dominican order also included great scholars, like St. Thomas Aquinas… who is on the far right. The other monk – the one with the bloody red head – that’s Peter Martyr. He exemplifies the unbending Dominican spirit. You can see how he was martyred in the small scene high above him. He was hacked in the head by heretics. But he died still preaching, writing with his own blood; “Credo in Deum” – I believe in God.
These two panels (The Wedding and Funeral of the Virgin) were originally part of an altarpiece. They were the predella – that’s the scenes found below the main painting.
In the wedding scene, we find a bishop in green joining the hands of Mary and Joseph, while the wedding guests rejoice. Though very small, the scene is surprisingly realistic. As a teenager, Fra Angelico had been trained as a miniaturist. He learned how to paint the tiniest of details. That’s because that’s how monks illustrated manuscripts before the age of printing.
Admire the folds in Mary’s gracefully flowing robe. In fact, all of the wedding guests have fine clothes with gold-brocade hemlines. Each individual person is precisely outlined, as though etched in glass. Notice the Renaissance perspective tricks Fra Angelico was already exploring. He set the wedding in front of buildings that recede sharply into the distance.
Fra Angelico’s paintings affect us on two levels. The devout can contemplate them as spiritual visions. The rest can simply admire them for their sheer beauty.
The Last Judgement – Despite the advent of Renaissance humanism, Florence in the 1400s still had a medieval mindset. People feared the Last Judgment, when Christ would appear – there he is floating above it all, flanked by the blessed saints. The graves would open and everyone would be judged. On the left, the righteous play ring-around-the-rosy with angels. But on the right, sinners are damned to hell. Fra Angelico’s Hell is straight out of Dante’s Inferno. It’s a hierarchical barbeque where sinners are burned, boiled, and tortured by demons. At the bottom of the pit sits a minotaur-like-creature – Satan himself. Just to the left of hell, notice the crowd of big shots. Corrupt kings, bishops, and wicked priests are all being herded to hell. And in the very center of the painting, a row of open tombs stretches ominously to that final judgement… like a three-dimensional Highway to Hell.
Door Panels for a Cupboard of Silver – The nine scenes on this big panel tell the story of Christ’s boyhood. Fra Angelico tells it almost like a children’s book – fresh, simple, and straightforward.
That weird-looking wheel is the Wheel of Ezekiel. It shows the succession of kings that Jesus was descended from.
Next, to the right, is the Annunciation. The angel enters, kneels, fans his colorful wings, and announces to Mary that she’ll give birth. Annunciation scenes were a Fra Angelico specialty.
Up next, Jesus is born – a humble birth in a stable. Newborn Jesus glows, amazing his parents. The shepherds are almost too timid to look.
Moving down a line…Jesus is about to be circumcised by the high priest. Look how precocious Jesus is, like he already knows what’s happening. He just splays himself open and says “Okay. I’m ready.” Fra Angelico knows how to “show” through action, not just “telling” through symbols.
The next scene shows the Three Wise Men bringing gifts. One of the Magi Kneels, perfectly natural, to kiss the baby’s foot.
Next, showing baby Jesus in the temple, notice how tiny the baby is compared to the super tall priests. Fra Angelico tweaks reality to accentuate the baby’s vulnerability.
On the final row of scenes, the holy family has to flee to escape danger. Mary and the baby ride off peacefully… while Joseph is left carrying the luggage, all the way to Egypt.
The next scene shows what it is they’re escaping: back home, innocent babies are slaughtered in a jumble of gore, dramatic poses, and agonized faces. It’s a great dramatic climax by Fra Angelico, perfectly setting up the final scene.
Yes, the serenity of this epilogue is a complete contrast. It shows young Jesus, now twelve years old, preaching in the temple, astonishing the elders. He’s survived his tumultuous childhood and is now set to make history.
In these nine scenes, Fra Angelico shows us the miraculous, but it seems completely real – like it’s happening before our very eyes. Or as I see it: He shows us the beauty of everyday things, and makes that seem miraculous.
The Altarpiece of the Linen-Drapers – Here we see all the elements of a typical altarpiece: the main painting, predella paintings below, and side panels that could fold over and close. Check out the impressive size of this altarpiece – Fra Angelic was paid a lot of money. And the fine marble frame is by Ghiberti, of Baptistery-door fame. Though a monk, Fra Angelico collaborated with the other artists of his age and built a successful career.
In the main painting, Mary and Child are majestic and monumental, if a bit stiff in the traditional style. Notice how they are flanked by lush curtains. After all, this was paid for by the linen-drapers guild.
It’s in the predella panels below that Fra Angelico really showed off his Renaissance chops. With exacting realism, he brings haloed saints down to the real world. They mingle with actual well-dressed Florentines of the 1400s. And the scenes are shot on location – notice the actual Florentine cityscapes and landscapes.
The Annalena Altarpiece – Mary cradles baby Jesus on her lap. She’s flanked by three saints to the left, and three to the right. Behind them stretches a glorious golden curtain.
This scene, from around 1435, is considered Florence’s first true Sacred Conversation. Mary and the saints are supposedly “conversing” about holy matters. Fra Angelico virtually invented this type of scene, which was copies by so many others.
This first example of a Sacred Conversation is a bit crude. It’s rigid and unrealistic, still rooted in the medieval past. It has the traditional gold background – though in this case it’s a gold “curtain.” The saints stand in a straight line – either facing out or in profile – not the natural poses of a true crowd. There’s little eye contact. And there’s certainly no (quote-un-quote) “conversation.”
But it’s still a wonderful scene. Look at Mary and Jesus’s hands. They both grab Mary’s brooch, directing our eye to that tiny detail. This forms the center of the composition. Everything radiates out from this, in a series of circles: the brooch… then the circle suggested by Mary’s halo… then the canopy arch above her head. Radiating still wider, another circle enfolds the saints. All this is set inside the square frame of the painting. This circle-in-square composition, pioneered by Fra Angelico, is found in many other Sacred Conversations.
The San Marco Altarpiece – Cosmo the Elder commissioned this around 1440 for the debut of the monastery’s new chruch. Fra Angelico theatrically “opens the curtains”, as it were, to reveal the stars of the new church – Mary and the Babe, on a raised throne topped with a canopy. The whole scene is like a stage set, with trees as a backdrop, and two kneeling saints at the lip of the stage. Fra Angelico was learning how to breathe life into a stuffy altarpiece. He opens a window into a marvelous world where holy people mill about as naturally as mortals.
The Bosco ai Frati Altarpiece – This altarpiece, from around 1450, is Fra Angelico’s last great work. The master used every stylistic arrow in his quiver. It has the halos and gold backdrop of his formative medieval years. The detail work – like the frieze across the top of the marble backdrop – show his training as a miniaturist. And it has the monumental, naturally posed figures of the Renaissance.
See St. Francis on the left of Mary. Looks how he holds a book in one hand and turns out to gesture with the other, completely natural. He stands in a relaxed contrapposto – with his weight resting on one leg.
Notice how the floor tiles establish a strong 3-D perspective, leading to the beautiful trees and sky in the distance.
I love Fra Angelico’s colors. The gold backdrop harmonizes perfectly with the red and pink angels and Jesus’ pale skin. And Mary’s dress! – deep blue, with a gold hem, and green lining.
Fra Angelico creates an ideal world of his own. It’s perfectly lit, with no moody shadows. There’s never any dirt, frayed clothing, or imperfections. The faces are realistic enough, but they express no human emotion. These mortals, though sacrifice and meditation, have risen above petty passions and worldly concerns. They seem to have achieved a serenity that lights them from within.
Most know that today, a monastery is known to have only men, while a convent is for women nuns. But originally, it had nothing to do with gender.
A monastery – from the Greek word “monos,” or alone – meant a place where either men or women could withdraw completely from society. A convent – from the Latin word for “convene” – was a place to only partially withdraw, while still working in the everyday world. That’s why San Marco, though it housed only men, is often called a convent.
Lavabo e Refettorio – This big long room was the monk’s dining room, or refectory. The food was simple and portions small, to focus your attention away from worldly pleasures.
Notice the big painting at the end of the room. It shows the kind of scene you’d see in this hall – people at long tables sharing a meal. but these are saintly diners.
Kind of reminds one of Leonardo da Vinci’s famous Last Supper in Milan.
The central Christian sacrament – Communion – is based on Jesus’s last meal with his disciples. So having a painting like this in a monastery dining hall gave the monks a sense they were communing not just with each other, but with the heavenly world, as well.
Paintings by Fra Bartolomeo – The artist Fra Bartolomeo – or “brother Bartholomew” – lived in this monastery around the year 1500. That is, he was here a generation after Fra Angelico – “brother Angelic”.
The work above is titled Ecce Homo. Christ is curly-haired, creamy-faced, and dreamy-eyed. This was just the kind of Christ that young, idealistic Dominican monks could relate to . Like them, he was bearing the torments of the secular world with humble serenity.
Here’s Saint Dominic (or San Domenico), the founder of this order of monks.
St. Dominic holds a finger to his lips – “Shh! We have strict rules in my order.” Around the year 1200, Dominic found God. He’s shown here with the star of revelation over his head. Dominic became a friend of St. Francis of Assisi. They both preached a return to the simple, possession-free lifestyle of Jesus. He was so dedicated that – nearing 50 – Dominic traveled across Europe on a 3,400-mile preaching tour – all on foot.
St. Thomas Aquinas was the intellectual giant of the 13th-century – and a Dominican. He used the reasoning of a scholar and the ideas of Aristotle to defend and explain Christianity. He’s shown here with the sun of knowledge burning in his chest.
Throughout Europe, the Dominicans became known as fierce intellectual defenders of the faith. None was more fearless than the man who became head of the San Marco monastery.
This is the famous portrait of the infamous monk Savonarola. He’s shown in profile, wearing the Dominican hoodie. He has a big nose and clear eyes, gazing intently into the darkness. Savonarola took control of this monastery in the 1480s. A decade later, he took control of all Florence, putting the Renaissance in crisis mode. More on that later. Love the reflection of my camera in the picture.
Crucifixion with Saints, by Fra Angelico – Christ is crucified between two common criminals, silhouetted against a bleak background. This Crucifixion is only one of about 20 crucifixions in the monastery. It’s clear that Christ’s torture and execution were what monks were supposed to focus on day and night.
Scanning the crowd around the cross, you’ll see Dominic – he’s the guy kneeling at the foot of the cross. He wears the Dominican white robe and dark cape, with tonsured hair, and a star on his head.
Peter Martyr is in the right corner, kneeling, with his bloody head. Standing behind him is Thomas Aquinas, with jowls and the sun on his chest.
This is the original monastery bell. One night in 1498, this very bell rang out. The monks were trying to warn Savonarola that a mob was coming to arrest him.
This second cloister was a private one, where only monks were allowed. Today, this is still the domain of the Dominicans. 600 years after Fra Angelico, monks still run this place.
The Annunciation – Fra Angelico – The angel arrives and kneels before Mary. He spreads his colorful wings and delivers “the good news” to Mary – a very humble and accepting virgin. The wings actually glitter – the glitter was mixed into the fresco.
Looking down the corridor, you can see the monk’s cells lined up on both sides. That is, their bedrooms. This particular corridor housed the more senior monks. Novices and lay people had rooms elsewhere. Some of Fra Angelico’s best work is found in the 10 cells along the left-hand side.
This first bedroom shows Jesus on the morning of his Resurrection. He emerges from the tomb dressed in white, and strolls into the garden. His follower Mary Magdalene reaches out to embrace him. But Jesus gingerly sidesteps her and pronounces the famous words, “Noli me Tangere” – “Don’t touch me.”
See the flowers, the grass, the trees. It’s like the whole world is coming back to life. Enjoy it while you can… the next cells are more stark. The idea was to concentrate the monk’s focus on just the essential subject.
Christ has been crucified, and now he’s mourned by his followers.
It’s basically the same Lamentation we saw downstairs… but in reverse image. In this one, Christ’s body almost levitates, not really supported by the ladies laps. The colors are muted – gray, brown, pink. Dominic stands contemplating, just as the monk who lived here in this cell should do. As the monk meditated on Christ’s death, he’d be mentally transporting himself to this sad scene.
Cell 3 is another Annunciation. Notice the composition: Mary and the angel bend toward each other, forming an arch. Above them is a painted arch, and that’s echoed by this room’s actual arch. Peter Martyr stands in the background with his bloody head.
Think of the average monk’s lifestyle. Every day was the same: prayer, meditation, reading, bland meals, chopping wood, hauling water, translating Greek, attending Mass, then more prayer. After dark, the monk retired to one of these cells – these little barren rooms, lit only by a lamp. His only kind of “late-night TV” was programmed by the prior – namely, Fra Angelico. It came in the form of a fresco to meditate on before a few hours of sleep.
Cell 4 has another Crucifixion, and another Dominic. It’s clear that the dominant Dominican themes are crosses, Dominics, Peters, and Thomas Aquinas. But notice that each fresco shows them in a slightly different pose. Dominic might be kneeling, head bowed, hands folded, and so on. Monks actually copied these physical postures in order to attain a more spiritual state.
Cell 5 is the Birth of Jesus… and there’s another Peter.
Pondering Jesus’ humble birth, monks learned about how even the son of God was humble. In monastic life, everything was a form of prayer. Meditating upon scenes like these, monks delved into different aspects of worship; humility, adoration, reflection, and so on.
Cell 6 is the Transfiguration, where Jesus is caught up in a heavenly vision. Here, Fra Angelico sets aside Renaissance realism to emphasize the miraculous. In an aura of blinding light, Christ spreads his arms cross-like. It dazzles the three witnesses. Jesus is joined by disembodied heads. These are the prophets, all spinning in a circle.
Cell 7 goes from Renaissance realism to bizarre Salvador Dali Sur-realism.
This shows the Mocking of Christ. Dominic is reading about Christ’s last days, and it makes him imagine the events. He pictures Christ as a king, on a throne, with a globe and scepter. But the king of the Jews is now blindfolded, spit on, slapped, and clubbed. And his tortures are… well, disembodied heads and hands.
Cell 8 is The Empty Tomb. The women are worried. But they’re reassured by an angel who says “He is risen.” And Jesus has risen. He floats above them, seemingly invisible to them in his newly resurrected state.
Cell 9 – Mary Crowned. There she is, presiding triumphantly in heaven. To celebrate her glory, her faithful followers on earth prepare to exchange high-fives. Of course there is Dominic, Aquinas, Francis and Peter.
Cell 10 is the Presentation in the Temple. Baby Jesus is swaddled like a mummy, as he’s officially welcomed into his religious community.
Above and below are some of the possessions that help bring the legend of Girolamo Savonarola to life. Savonarola lived in the San Marco monastery during the 1480s and 90s. He wasn’t always the pious monk the world has come to know.
Savonarola started a brilliant intellectual on the fast track for a career in academia. Then his cozy world was suddenly rocked. He heard a sermon on repentance. He was so moved, he traded in his scholar’s robes for the cloak of a simple Dominican monk like the one seen above. He joined the San Marco brotherhood. He quickly became known for his extreme asceticism, his devotion, and his knowledge of the Bible. He was made prior of this monastery and gained many ardent followers. They rallied around the banner in the previous picture. It depicted a gruesome Crucifixion scene. The monks paraded it through the streets of Florence, reminding everyone that Christ paid for their decadence, their worldly Renaissance sins. By1490, Savonarola was becoming a celebrity in Florence.
These rooms were the actual cells in which Savonarola lived. The bust shows the man whose personal charisma and prophetic fervor led him from humble scholar to prior of San Marco.
This relief shows the exciting event when, in the year 1493, Savonarola is being made ruler of all Florence. He stands before the Florence city council, pledging allegiance to Florence’s constitution.
Savonarola would work at the desk above, seated on a simple folding chair. From here, he wrote letters to the movers and shakers of the age: the pope, the humanist Pico della Mirandola, even Lorenzo the Magnificent. And he would scour his Bible to prepare his next sermon.
Savonarola was a fiery and charismatic speaker. His words were electric. Packed houses heard him rail against sin. Guilt-stricken listeners went into fits of weeping and wailing. He talked of the end times, and pointed to ominous signs. The Medici banks were failing, Lorenzo the Magnificent died you, France invaded Italy – all as Savonarola seemed to prophesy. After his marathon sermons, it’s said that people were seen wandering the streets, dazed and speechless.
As Florentine politics descended into chaos and the Medici were exiled, Savonarola stepped into the vacuum of power. The masses turned to him, and he became the secular as well as religious leader of Florence.
In the picture above, we find a few pieces of Savonarola’s clothing. They were made of wool – the roughtest kind of wool, used by peasants.
Savonarola wore simple clothing even at the height of his power. It attests to his personal integrity, which was never questioned.
At first, Savonarola’s rule was just. He cut taxes, reduced street crime, and shifted power from the rich Medici elites to the citizens.
The rosary beads speak to his unquestioned faith. In fact, Savonarola is considered one of the first great Reformers. He spoke out against the corrupt Church and the pope’s stable of mistresses. He called it – and I’m quoting here – “the prostitute Church, the monster of abomination.” Savonarola’s courageous stand and focus on faith influenced Martin Luther and other Reformers to come.
But Savonarola could also be uncompromising, even fanatical. That’s what the relics here suggest. He wore the wool shirt to irritate his skin, as a constant act of penance. As a ruler, Savonarola began to force his own personal moral code on others. He passed strict laws against swearing, blasphemy, gambling, and even fancy clothes. These laws were enforced by gangs of thuggish teenagers who patrolled the streets of Florence. At the height of his power, during Lent of 1497, his followers gathered in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. They built a huge bonfire, called a “bonfire of vanities.” There they burned anything they deemed sinful – dice, wigs, carnival masks, playing cards, musical instruments – even some books and paintings.
Repressive tyrant of a brave champion of reform? He was certainly was a complex man living in turbulent times.
Savonarola’s rule became increasingly repressive. But the public was tiring of puritanism, and the tide began to turn. While his enemies plotted a coup, Savonarola sat here in these rooms, studying and praying for guidance.
As night fell, a rabid mob marched on the monastery of San Marco to take down Savonarola. They stormed into the cloister, while monks fought back with clubs and the church bells clanged. The mob then raced up the stairs and grabbed Savonarola. They led him away to the Palazzo Vecchio. There he was tortured, tried, and sentenced.
The painting above shows the climax of the story. On May 23rd, 1498, a huge crowd gathered in front of the Palazzo Vecchio. Savonarola was paraded out on a catwalk. He was publicly defrocked stripped of his powers as a monk.
That was the ultimate humiliation of the day. Then he was hanged from the scaffolding shown in teh painting. He dangled there, strangling, while teenage boys hooted and threw rocks.
Then the crowd lit a bonfire.
Above the rosary in an earlier picture, there is a little piece of wood on display. It’s an actual piece of wood from that bonfire.
This bonfire they lit was not to burn vanities. It was to burn Savonarola. The flames rose up. The crowd watched, spellbound by this man who had once so captivated their minds. The fire engulfed the body of Savonarola. Then suddenly… his arm shot upward! Was he somehow still alive? Was this a final blessing, or a final curse? The terrified crowd stampeded. Several were killed. But in fact, Savonarola was really dead. His ashes were thrown into the Arno River. And that was the end of Savonarola.
May 23rd, 1498…. and here I am visiting on the 525th anniversary. May 23rd, 2023. Surreal.
You might not get into San Marco as much as I did. But you will find somthing to appreciate and enjoy.