Having already sneaked two paintings from Belgrade into today’s stream of piffle, I might as well make it three. This is God the Father and Three Angels, a fifteenth-century tempera painting on a wooden panel attributed to the Sienese artist Giovanni di Paolo. God occupies nearly the entire composition, raising one hand in blessing while three angels attempt to fit into the remaining space. Two have secured reasonably prominent positions beside him, while the third has been allocated only enough room for a head at the bottom. I initially assumed that this rather solemn and not entirely realistic child was intended to be Jesus, but the title confirms that it is the third angel. Fifteenth-century artists were only gradually moving towards more naturalistic representations of children, and sacred figures were often idealised, with their importance conveyed through gold, halos and position rather than convincing childhood anatomy. The religious message mattered rather more than whether the artist had recently observed an actual toddler.
Giovanni di Paolo was active in Siena by 1417 and became rector of the city’s painters’ guild in 1441. He specialised in religious subjects, often using brilliant colours, patterned gold and slightly dreamlike figures rather than attempting strict realism. He was also commissioned to illustrate Dante’s Paradiso, producing dozens of images for a manuscript of the Divine Comedy. I hadn’t realised until now that Giovanni was responsible for the image above (from British Library Yates Thompson MS 36), which I have encountered numerous times. It accompanies Canto IX, where Folquet de Marseille condemns corruption among the clergy, and shows churchmen accepting riches directly from a devil. The symbolism of the abuses in the church was evidently not intended to be especially difficult to interpret.
The panel measures only around 54 by 27 centimetres, and its tapering shape suggests that it may once have occupied part of a larger religious arrangement. Whatever originally surrounded it has been lost, leaving this tightly packed gathering to survive independently in Belgrade. I rather liked the combination of splendour and mild overcrowding, particularly the lowest angel, who appears to have arrived late and is now peering over the edge to see what is happening.