However, neither painting is an archetypal example of Italian Mannerism, although they incorporate many of that style's most salient characteristics. In each case the artist (Tintoretto and El Greco) forged a highly individual and expressive method of painting that defies generalized categorization. Further, while these paintings were produced during the initial decades of the Counter-Reformation, and indeed illustrate biblical themes that affirm religious tenets espoused by the Catholic church, in terms of style and composition they do not comply with the rigid requisites stipulated as a result of the deliberations of the Council of Trent, resulting in the establishment of the Baroque style. These two works, therefore, should be examined with the broader context of Mannerism, and against the historical and emotional background of the Counter-Reformation, but not as archetypal exponents of either the style or the religious movement.

Let us begin by describing the origins and salient characteristics of Mannerism, and specifically of the Venetian version of Mannerism, and then examine the paintings individually.

The origin of the expression "mannerism" lies in the Italian word maniera, which can be translated in all cases into the English word "style." The word maniera was borrowed from the literature of social manners, in which the term referred to a quality of human deportment very desirable in the 16th century: a courtly grace characterized by effortless accomplishment, sophistication and savoir-faire.

Maniera, as applied to an artistic movement, implies overt stylization and an obsession with artificial conventions. In the 16th century virtuosity, then equated with great facility of execution, and the overcoming of complex and difficult problems, was highly prized in the arts, in literature, as well as in human decorum. An obsession with virtuosity and elegance, then, was the guiding force of mannerism, essentially an artificial, anti-naturalistic style. To repeat a much-quoted phrase, Mannerism is a 'stylish' style. Because it transgressed moderation, Mannerism appealed to an elite class of connoisseurs, not to the general populace.

Mannerism as a distinct and distinguishable style first appeared in Rome in about 1520; it was transported to Florence in about 1522-23 and to other Italian cities in that same decade. Mannerism, by now an international fashion, was transplanted to Fontainebleau in 1530, where it was put to service in the creation of French court art. Mannerism ran its erratic course until about 1590, by which time it had been substantially supplanted by the clearer and more uniform ideals of the early Baroque. And while we are primarily concerned with painting here, we should bear in mind that for a good part of the 16th century Mannerism was also the prevailing trend in architecture, sculpture, literature, and music.

The notion of mannerism as a separate style sandwiched in between the dying High Renaissance and the dynamic Baroque era is a relatively recent phenomenon. Certainly a 16th century artist was not aware that he was living in a designated time period or working in a designated style, in the same way that 20th century artists are aware. Most art criticism from the 17th to the 19th centuries perceived such a divergence, however, and generally discounted this interim period as decadent and perverse. Only around 1920 was such a sweeping condemnation reversed, and the merits and complexities of this neglected period studied and appreciated. The name Mannerism is really an umbrella term that attempts to consolidate its many facets, since so many different centers of artistic production, conflicting trends, varieties of patrons, and individual idioms are involved.

Various and contradictory definitions and interpretations have been proposed for Mannerism. It has been construed as a reaction against the ideals of the High Renaissance, as an expression of the spiritual crisis of the time, or as a sophisticated art created solely for art's sake, exemplifying the aesthetic theories of the 16th century. In fact, all of these theories are valid, presenting parallel, rather than incompatible, explanations of the many manifestations of this consciously ambiguous means of expression.

The Protestant reformation officially started when Martin Luther nailed up his theses in 1517; the Catholic Counter-Reformation opposition began with the convening of the Council of Trent in 1545. As the zeal for reform gathered momentum, it produced deep-rooted reaction within the Catholic church, largely the outcome of the deliberations of the Council of Trent, in an attempt to win back the faithful and reaffirm its spiritual and secular authority. Although it began as a religious movement, the Reformation had wide-spread political impact throughout Europe. The continent of Europe was divided into two camps, Protestant and Catholic, as the various political entities aligned themselves with one side or the other, obliging their subjects to adhere to the chosen religion.

Every aspect of life was destined to undergo re-examination and fundamental change, including a view of human beings within a much larger sphere than was previously imagined. With the discovery of the New World, the Christian West could no longer see itself as the center of the earth, but only as a small area within an immeasurable and still largely unexplored whole. In 1543 Copernicus published his book On the Revolution of Planets and Their Orbits, a work destined to change the conception of the cosmos from an earth-centered to a sun-centered universe. As inhabitants of a minor planet whirling through space, people began to realize that they were no longer the center of creation. The combined effects of these and other discoveries began to weaken the belief in divine intervention in human affairs.

The influence of classics on art and literature, so marked in the Renaissance, was waning. By 1600 humanism as a point of view was no longer a leading influence in European life. Other ideas (and systems)—capitalism, absolutism and national self-consciousness—continued to grow in strength.

The art of the 16th century as a whole reflects deep doubts over the classical principles, normative proportions and lucid space of the High Renaissance. Living in the shadow of such unrivaled masters of the immediate past as Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo and Raphael created a dilemma for the younger generation of painters. They were very much aware that a golden age had preceded them and that there was no possibility of improving on the craftsmanship of their famous predecessors. The long-standing problems of linear and atmospheric perspective, mathematical principles of foreshortening, correct anatomical rendering, and the proportions and relationships of figures to their surrounding spaces had been solved and perfected.

While some less inventive artists reduced the ideas and techniques of their predecessors to workable formulas and repetitive compositions, others branched out in the only direction possible—by purposefully breaking the established rules and by violating Renaissance assumptions for sheer shock effect. Naturalism gave way to the free play of the imagination. Classical composure yielded to nervous movement. Clear definition of space became a jumble of picture planes crowded with twisted figures. Symmetry and focus on the central figure were replaced by off-balance diagonals that made it difficult to find the protagonists of the drama amid the numerous directional lines. Backgrounds, formerly intended as a credible context for the subject, were now vaguely defined or even nonexistent. The norms of body proportions were distorted by the unnatural elongation of figures. Chiaroscuro no longer served to model figures but to create optical illusions, violent contrasts and theatrical lighting effects. Strong pure tonalities gave way to insipid pastel hues or to unnatural, even acidic colors. The Renaissance realm of clarity and order was consciously disrupted, to be replaced by tension and ambiguity.

In 1548 the aesthetic theorist Benedetto Varchi defined artistic creativity as "an artificial imitation of nature," expressing not an original idea but a widely-held belief. This pronouncement indicates how far art had come to deviate from the attempt on the part of early Renaissance artists, such as Masaccio, to faithfully reproduce the natural world around them.

Many of the tendencies we categorize as Mannerist were already incipient in the Renaissance. The highly prized quality of stylishness, which encompassed virtuosity, fluency and refinement, was to be found in the antique statues then most admired, and in the works of Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo and proclaimed in aesthetic theories of the 16th century. However, the crucial example of Mannerism in germination is to be found in the Sistine Ceiling, completed by Michelangelo between 1508 and 1512, which provided an immediate and lasting impact on every artist who saw it. The giant-sized nudes, Prophets and Sibyls sit in contrived, twisted poses, forced into impossibly shallow spaces. When he returned to the Sistine Chapel to paint the Last Judgment in 1534, Michelangelo abandoned all spatial cohesion—juggling crowded spaces and bare areas, while the masses of disproportionate figures emerge without intelligible relationship to one another. The recent cleaning of the Sistine Chapel frescoes has revealed the original colors Michelangelo used: strong, strident, at times almost psychedelic tonalities.

1. Movement
   The desire to display several aspects of the figure at once led to the optical suggestion of movement. In sculpture, this inspired the creation of single figures or groups of figures that can be viewed from all sides, rather than from a single viewpoint; the figure seems to be in perpetual movement, so the spectator is encouraged to keep moving around it. Giorgio Vasari coined the term figura serpentinata (serpentine line) to describe this concept. This form developed from the classical contrapposto, in which the turn of the head opposes that of the hips, and one leg is weight-bearing and straight while the other is flexed and free, all asymmetries being reconciled in a final balance. The Mannerist derivation is fluid and expressive, more torsion than balance. In a two-dimensional depiction, the figure is composed in an S-curve, so the head faces the opposite direction as the feet, the hips uniting the opposing members by means of a sinuous curve.
2. Distortion of figures
   In tune with the Mannerist predilection for the depiction of the abnormal, the distortion of the human figure, often with the object of making it more expressive, was of primary importance. Proportions could be imposed arbitrarily. In Florentine painting in particular, figures were often elongated, while the heads remained relatively small. This anti-classical approach to the human figure also occurred in central and northern Italy, and the Venetian-trained painter El Greco was especially influenced.
3. Manipulation of Space
   In both architecture and painting, Renaissance space is clearly defined on all sides. In Mannerist compositions, space is unevenly filled. The picture plane was no longer constrained by the rules of perspective, and its logical boundaries were blurred or ignored. Sometimes there is only a neutral background, providing no comprehensible environment. In other compositions, the background seems to stretch into infinity, interspersed with auxiliary scenes apparently not related the main theme. An analogous feature occurred in architecture: the idea of centralized plan, that contained space rationally and systematically, was abandoned in favor of tan elongated axes that prolonged space indefinitely, culminating in the concept of the long gallery building (such as the Uffizi in Florence, designed by Giorgio Vasari).

   In many instances the space in two-dimensional compositions is compressed, forcing figures and other elements to inhabit a shallow area uncomfortably close to the foreground limits. Other common Mannerist tactics are asymmetrical composition, off-center diagonals, and figures that are cut off, not fully contained by the picture plane. The consistent result is a composition that is deliberately confusing, fabricating tension in the viewer's perception.

4. Light
   Just as they manipulated space and proportions to attain jarring effects , Mannerist artists also manipulated light for dramatic impact. No longer were the elements of a pictorial composition illuminated from a single light source, seemingly arriving from a logical point outside the painting. Now light was imposed arbitrarily, sometimes emanating from a source within the composition, such as a halo; sometimes coming from diverse directions, lighting elements at odd angles and casting impossible shadows. Light signified divinity and could be used to transform a commonplace setting into a heavenly realm.
5. Spiritual intensity
   Especially in the field of painting, Mannerism demonstrated a high pitch of religious fervor, and its practitioners developed a new way of distinguishing between the earthly and the divine. This new potential was most fully realized in scenes of apparitions, saintly visions and New Testament miracles, in which events taking place in this world were transposed into the divine realm. A new painterly concept was necessary for representing the spiritual. The primacy of line gave way to the emotional immediacy of color. Forms became less tangible and clearly defined, sometimes becoming focal points of vibrant, irrational hues. Brushstrokes could be broken or sketchy. Both the descriptive value of light and the focus on movement were effective tools that Mannerist artists utilized to concoct credible portrayals of transcendental themes.

The great wealth and autonomy that characterized the Venetian state is reflected in the independent course that Venetian painting took throughout its Renaissance and Mannerist phases. Much of Venetian art is public art, on a monumental scale. Venetian art was lavish, always grand, and therefore served as a transition, rather than a rupture, between the High Renaissance and Baroque. But it also could be introspective and was never mundane.

Venetian Mannerism never fully attained the precious, over-refined and self-conscious quality exhibited by the style in other fashion-setting centers, such as Florence and Rome, but maintained a dynamic and heroic energy. One reason may be that Mannerism could not function as a courtly art in Venice because the republic did not have a hereditary monarch and stratified aristocracy, and therefore had no princely court. Wealth was not principally in the hands of the nobility, a quite small and immutable number of citizens, but in those of the merchant class.

Yet the independence of Venetian Mannerism can be largely explained by the fact that painting remained for virtually decades under the sway of the overwhelming personality of Titian, whose extremely long and productive career ended only with his death in 1576. Although Titian occasionally experimented with Mannerist forms, his painting methods and ideology remained rooted in the naturalistic tradition, which impeded some of the decorative trends of Mannerism that flourished elsewhere.

Due to the damp climate of this water-bound city, frescoes were seldom attempted. Thus Venetian painters had little feeling for the opaque nature of tempera. Venetian color was particularly rich and vibrant, exploiting the maximum possibilities of oil pigments and their ability to produce saturated color and reflective light. Venetian painters developed a technique called alla prima, which involved the rapid application of paint over a preceding layer of paint before it had dried, resulting in a mixing of color directly on the canvas. Rather than precisely recording every detail of a figure, a few bold brushstrokes are used to describe them.

Venice was a crossroads of ideas as well as of trade, and Venetian innovations in architecture and music as well as in painting fanned out in all directions, eagerly adopted in the Church and court circles of Spain and France, where both the Church hierarchy and the aristocracy sought the impressive of the arts to enhance their exalted positions. In Venetian art they found the richest expression of this ideal

CONCLUSION
It has been stressed that Mannerism cannot be equated with Counter-Reformation art. Mannerism, as it was practiced in the latter 16th century, did not fulfill the artistic requirements of Counter-Reformation propaganda—it lacked clarity, stark realism, and most of all, a coherent message. It is only about 1580 and onwards, or roughly twenty years after the decrees issued by the Council of Trent established an official policy governing the creation of religious art, that we begin to discern Counter-Reformational art on a broad basis. The Counter Reformation rejected the exclusiveness of Mannerist taste because the Catholic church's primary aim in art was luring back broad sectors of the populace. A new style had to be formulated, and to accomplish this, a reform movement in art itself had to come about. The seemingly conflicting approaches espoused by the Carracci and Caravaggio would coalesce to meet this challenge.

How then, to reconcile this detachment with the starkly didactic themes of resurrection of the dead and cleansing of the church, so in tune with the Counter-Reformation messages, that we encounter in these two paintings? We can best do this by regarding subject matter as distinct from the style in which it is depicted. In each case, the painting is the unrestrained product of a unique temperament, the individual response of the artist to a spiritual theme. At least in the case of Tintoretto, his canvases are revelations of his deep personal religious commitment, and in the case of El Greco, then living in Rome, he was interpreting a standard religious theme sanctioned by the Papacy. The tenor of these paintings resounds with the initial reforming spirit of the early phase of the Counter Reformation, yet in execution they are still untamed and unregulated. The Church was telling artists what and what not to paint, but could not tell artists how. These two paintings, then, represent a brief but brilliant phase of uncertainty in the history of art, the half-way point between Renaissance and Baroque.

Fleming, William, Arts and Ideas, Seventh Edition. New York, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1986, Part I, Chapter 13.

The Dictionary of Art (ed. Jane Turner). London, McMillan, 1996, vol. 20.

Specialized discussions:
Hauser, Arnold, Mannerism: The Crisis of the Renaissance and the Origin of Modern Art, Cambridge, Mass. And London, Harvard University Press, 1986.

Shearman, John, Mannerism, Penguin Books, 1967.

The MIA painting is one of two signed versions. It is signed on the step at left center in Greek capitals: "Domenikos Teotokaopoulos Kres E Poiei"-"Domenikos Theotokopoulos the Cretan made this." The exact date of this painting continues to be the subject of conjecture, but the consensus seems to be in favor of a date immediately following El Greco's arrival in Rome, while he was still influenced by Venetian trends of composition but also inspired by Roman accomplishments, notably Raphael's. The painting, therefore, has special value as an illustration of El Greco's work during a transitional phase in his development, before he took up residence in Spain and developed his later better-known style. This work is considered to be the most important work to survive from El Greco's years in Rome. But because it was painted when his style most clearly exhibited traits of Venetian Mannerism absorbed in the years immediately preceding, we can consider it to be a Mannerist painting of the Venetian school.

This violent scene was pre-figured in the Old Testament by the "Chastisement of Heliodorus," who was expelled by flagellant angels from the Temple of Jerusalem, whose treasures he was attempting to steal.

The depiction of the Expulsion was promoted by the Council of Trent and remained popular during the Counter Reformation. The Catholic Church interpreted this biblical event as symbolic of the purification of the church accomplished by its own internal reform movement

Christ is seen against an archway opening upon a Renaissance city view. The Temple portico is classical in style and resembles a gallery. Two men are seen in a dimly lit chamber to the upper right.

In the lower right-hand corner, El Greco pays homage to the four Italian artists who most influenced him-Titian, Michelangelo, Giulio Clovio, and Raphael-by including recognizable portraits of all of them. This is the only version of this subject in which El Greco included his fellow artists in this manner.¹These portrait heads occupy a separate section of canvas, and the join to the larger canvas can be seen by the naked eye. It has been suggested that this of four upright figures was not part of the original design, but was added by El Greco in attempt to stabilize the composition, which was swinging too far to the left. Presumably it replaced a less successful element, which he cut out.

As in the case of Tintoretto, El Greco freely appropriated sources from other sources. The major Raphael source for the panel is his School of Athens (in the Vatican Stanze) from which the general setting is largely derived, as well as the pose and placement of several figures. El Greco, however, has compacted Raphael's expansive and airy composition into a single spatial plane. The monumental reclining female is derived from a Roman statue in the Vatican, The Sleeping Ariadne. Some traditional symbolic motifs have been injected, however incongruous, such as the cage of doves—here symbols not of peace but probably of carnal love.

Many aspects of the painting are deliberately incongruous. The biblical scene, which took place in the Temple in Jerusalem, is set in what appears to be a Roman basilica. Venice is in the background. We would expect that the figures surrounding Christ would all be contemporaries of Christ, but El Greco has placed himself in the crowd (he is the tall man in the turban) as well as some of his contemporaries. The child with the wine glass on the right of the canvas suggests the image of Bacchus, but why is it included? Doves are a symbol of Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. Should we associate the woman with the birdcage with the Greek goddess? What are classical deities and 16th-century artists doing in a biblical painting? In the distant region of the corridor at the right are unidentified figures having the substance of phantasms, reminiscent of those in the landscape background of the Tintoretto painting. These inconsistencies, the asymmetrical composition, visual distortions, and jarring colors all contribute to convey El Greco's view of a disrupted world.

El Greco's choice of colors enhances the sense of chaos he has already accomplished with line and composition. Notice how jarring and vivid the colors are compared to the more stable reds and blues in the Portrait of a Cardinal in his Study attributed to Lorenzo Costa. In place of the solid block of red with its carefully blended shades that we see in the cardinal's red robe, El Greco has chosen to use many different tints of red (which range from light pink to deep maroons) within the robes of the figures (for example the robe of Christ and dress of the woman with doves) and many tints of blue and green in other parts of the clothing

Distortion of Figures
Not only are the figures massed together, but they are posed in highly awkward positions. Their bodies are twisted and contorted into positions that would be nearly impossible to assume or to maintain. The resultant sense of confusion is further reinforced by the unnatural proportions of several figures. For example, notice the distorted leg muscles of the man who recoils from Christ's whip. In addition, the woman with the doves in the left foreground would be extremely tall if she were to stand up. The length of her thigh is excessively long while the longer portion of her leg is shortened. Her head is also very small in proportion to the rest of her body. Also notice the manner in which the artist placed her hand upon her chest. This position is not a naturalistic one, but one common to Mannerist painting. (The same gesture may be observed in the figure of Mary in the Tintoretto.)

Manipulation of Space
Tintoretto has used monumental architecture to define the setting of a vast temple, yet he confines the crowd of figures to a space far too narrow to accommodate both them and the massive pillars. There are two conflicting vanishing points: one presumably in the horizon behind Christ's head, and another in the depths of the corridor at right. The figure on the extreme left border is cut off, while the grouping of four artists in the lower right are even more radically cut off; they appear to rest in bust form on the pavement.

Light
The surfaces of the fabrics blaze with reflected light, reinforcing the feeling of anger. The light that spotlights Christ and the figures surrounding him does not have a logical source. The sunset we see in the background bears no relationship to the light which falls on these figures. They seem to be lit by a stream of light from the right, for which there is no plausible source.

Spiritual Intensity
The atmosphere of intense anger that El Greco achieves in this painting is a foretaste of the surreal vision that we associate with El Greco that evolved later on during his years in Spain. At this point in his career, however, he is still depicting tangible, weighty human beings and he is still emphasizing the human nature of Christ. Later his paintings become incandescent visions of transcendental experiences, in which illusionism and rational relationships are abandoned.

This painting, therefore, has special value as an illustration of El Greco's work during a transitional phase in his development, before he took up residence in Spain and developed his mature style for which he is better known. At this time, he was inspired by Raphael, but greatly influenced by Venetian painting. Notice the similarities in style between this work and the painting by Tintoretto. The paint is applied in undisguised brushstrokes using resonant, at times unnatural colors. El Greco's mastery of Venetian brushwork is also evident: note the virtuoso indications of shadow in the draperies and the brushed contours of limbs, making them project. The focal point is off-center.

It is believed that El Greco left his home in about 1560 to study in Venice with Titian. From that great master, he derived his brilliant use of color and love for incorporating architecture into his compositions. In 1570, he traveled to Rome where he was befriended by the mannerist Giulio Clovio, and profoundly inspired by the intense spiritualism and dramatic fervor of Michelangelo's late works.

Between 1575 and 1577, El Greco settled permanently in Toledo, Spain, which was the acknowledged center of the Catholic Church's Counter-Reformation movement. In Spain, he concentrated on painting religious subjects and soon received several commissions which assured his artistic success. It was in Spain that his style took on the more extreme characteristics associated with his later works.

THE FRAME
This frame is Italian, made about 1600. It was selected from the museum's frame collection for this painting, because it corresponds closely to the date of the painting. Panels were added to the sides to enlarge the frame to fit this canvas.

Fleming, William, Arts and Ideas, New York, 1963.

Golden Age of Spanish Painting, Royal Academy of Arts, 1976, #6.

The Minneapolis Institute of Arts Bulletin, XIII, February 1924, pp. 10-13.

The Minneapolis Institute of Arts Bulletin, XXX, June 7, 1941, pp. 110-113.

Murray, Linda, The High Renaissance and Mannerism.

Spetsieri-Beschi, Katerina, Domenikos Theotokopoulous - El Greco.

Trapier, Elizabeth Du Gue, El Greco in the Farnese Palace, Rome.

Further Bibliography:
Waterhouse, E. K., "El Greco's Italian Period," Art Studies, Vol. 8, Part I, Cambridge, 1930.

Eisler, Colin, Paintings from the Samuel H. Kress Collection: European Schools Excluding Italian. Oxford, Phaidon, 1977, pp. 191-193.

El Greco of Toledo, The Toledo Museum of Art; Museo del Prado, Madrid; The National Gallery of Art, Wash., DC; The Dallas Museum of Fine Arts, Dallas, Texas. 1982/83. Exhibition catalogue no. 3, p. 277 (New York Graphic Society and Little Brown & Co.,
Boston).

The Dictionary of Art, vol. 13, pp.339-345.

Birth/ Death Dates of Artists

• European Art (14th through 18th centuries)
  
• Highlights of the Museum's Collection
  
• Visual Choices
  
• Spirituality and Art

Compare this painting to The Portrait of a Cardinal in His Study, attributed to Costa, to identify the major characteristics of Renaissance and Mannerist art.

1. El Greco was greatly influenced in his use of color and loose brushstroke by Titian (compare to Titian's The Temptation of Christ.) The two figures on a severe diagonal at the left recall the youth in Michelangelo's ceiling fresco of the Sistine Chapel near the depiction of the Sacrifice of Noah. Clovio was El Greco's friend and protector in Rome, who recommended him as an excellent painter to Cardinal Farnese. In addition, it is said that El Greco's handling of perspective was derived from Clovio's miniatures. Raphael's influence is noticeable in the painting's architectural setting.