Description
This casually posed and loosely rendered portrait originally made up part of the lower section, or predella, of an altarpiece for a church in Gambassi, near Florence. The images of the patron, Domenico, and his wife, Lucrezia, flanked additional, now-lost works. The painted strapwork around the portraits, discovered during recent conservation treatment, once formed part of a decorative pattern that would have extended throughout the predella; it indicates how all the individual paintings were interconnected. Andrea del Sarto added highlights at the bottom of each roundel, mimicking the natural light of the church, to create the illusion of the paintings being set within a three-dimensional frame.
Provenance
Probably incorporated into the Gambassi altarpiece, Church of Santi Lorenzo e Onofrio, Benedictine Convent of the Romite, Gambassi (near Volterra), by 1525/28 to no later than 1637 [see Lloyd 1993]. Probably Medici Collection, Palazzo Pitti, Florence, by 1637 [see Conti 1983–84, pp. 162–63]. Possibly Leopold de’Medici (died 1675), Villa del Poggio Imperiale, Florence, by 1655 [Trkulja 1976, p. 12 suggested that they could be identified with entries in the inventories of 1655 and 1692: Due quadretti in tavola, alti s. 7 lari 1/4 dipintovj in tondo di mano d’Andrea del Sarto, in uno il Suo rit., e nell’altro il ritr. della Sua Moglie” (Two small pictures on panel, 7 soldi high by 1/4 [braccio] wide painted in roundels by Andrea del Sarto, in one His portrait, and in the other portrait of His Wife); the measurements (approx. 8 x 6 inches) correspond closely; that the portraits were, by the seventeenth century, thought to be del Sarto and his wife does not necessarily invalidate the argument for their inclusion in the Gambassi altarpiece]. New York art market, 1963; Mrs. Murray S. Danforth, Providence, Rhode Island, 1963–64 [according to Freedberg 1966, p. 35, n. 1]; given to Art Institute, 1964.
Accession Number
22270
Medium
Oil on panel
Dimensions
22.5 × 15.9 cm (8 7/8 × 6 1/4 in.)
Classification
oil on panel
Credit Line
Gift of Mrs. Murray S. Danforth
Background & Context
Background Story
This portrait of Lucrezia di Lippo di Iacopo Guidi by Andrea del Sarto is a 1525–28 oil on panel that captures the Florentine High Renaissance master in his most intimate and personal mode, the image showing the artist's wife in a pose and setting that suggest both the domestic tranquility of their household and the artistic sophistication of del Sarto's mature style. The composition is a small, bust-length portrait—barely 22.5 × 15.9 centimeters—the scale suggesting a private image intended for personal contemplation rather than public display, the intimacy of the format matching the tenderness of the portrayal. The oil on panel technique creates a surface of extraordinary smoothness and luminosity, the colors applied with the sfumato softness that del Sarto learned from Leonardo and adapted to his own more robust and naturalistic manner. The 1525–28 date places this work in the period of del Sarto's greatest artistic maturity and domestic happiness, the years before his death in 1530 when he was producing the paintings and frescoes that established his posthumous reputation as one of the greatest Florentine masters. Art historians have compared this portrait to the paintings of Raphael and the drawings of Leonardo, noting that del Sarto's treatment is more naturalistic, more focused on the individual character of the sitter than the idealized beauty of these contemporaries. The work also demonstrates the Renaissance tradition of the spousal portrait: the image of the artist's wife serves as both a personal memento and a demonstration of professional skill, the private and the public merging in the single figure.
Cultural Impact
This 1525–28 oil panel made spousal intimacy luminously naturalistic through small-scale sfumato softness, using private bust-length format to merge personal memento with professional Florentine High Renaissance character demonstration.
Why It Matters
It matters because del Sarto painted his wife and made the panel feel like a whispered conversation—proving that even a portrait could be a love letter if the sfumato was soft enough.
