#agnola

[vampseraph]

may i request angellic npts ? or heaven npts ?

angelic ++ heaven npts!

names

angelo, malachi, azriel, cassiel, gabriel, michael, raphael, agnola, angelene, angelette, evangelina, evangeline, seraphim, seraphine, seraphina, saint, elysia, cher, cherub, celeste, celestina, celine, celina, eden, divinity, leilani, aura, diana, cordelia

2. pronouns

che/cher, hy/hymn, shy/hyr, lyre/lyres, belle/belles, bell/bells, wing/wings, plume/plumes, wing/wings, angel/angels, cloud/clouds, gold/golds, pure/pures, sky/skys, aur/auras, light/light, bless/blesses, flight/flights, di/divine

3. titles

prn who drifts among clouds, the seraph, the cherub, the angel, prn who resides in heaven, the arcangel, the ethereal saint, the eternal one, the merciful seraphim, prn who is as pure as the driven snow, the celestial one, prn who sings among the heavenly choir, the seraphic deity, prn who wields a halo, the winged one, prn who guards the pearly gates

other related npts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

[moyonote]

i think i killed my eyes by staring at this model for too long anyway her name's Agnola and she's just a silly angel

▼ CREDITS ▼

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[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Ficino Fam-jam Update

Five MILLION years later, I have the names of all of Ficino's siblings (I was just missing one sister at this point, but still).

Full list: Cherubino, Agnola, Daniello, Anselmo, Beatrice, Arcangelo

I've been mucking around on the digital archives of the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana for Reasons and stumbled across one of Ficino's compiled works that includes a letter to his siblings about parental obligations.

I'm working through a (very rough) translation and can happily inform all of you that even at the age of 21 Ficino was already Like That.

But Agnola! Agnola was the name I was missing. Hello Agnola it is nice to finally see you.

And confirming that everyone was alive at least as of 1455 (the year date in the detail is wrong, it's MCCCCLV not MCCCLV). The earliest sibling death I know of is in 1462 when Anselmo died.

Side note: 1462 is the same year that Cosimo buys a house near the hospital of S. Maria Nuova and donates it for the duration of their life to Marsilio and his mother. I'm so curious about the details around that whole deal. All of this is a year after Beatrice's marriage, which occurred circa 1461.

double side note:

Innocent student: did Marsilio study at the university of Bologna??

Beleaguered Ficinian scholar: We Do Not ask the Bologna question.

(Not unless you want the ghosts of Kristeller, Marcel, and Corsi to rise from the grave and fist fight each other. ...I mean could be fun.)

(just read the following:)

And here opens a particularly complex and delicate chapter of Ficino's biography concerning his stay at the University of Bologna to deepen his study of the Peripatetic philosophers and dedicate himself to medicine. The hypothesis, advanced by Corsi and taken up by Della Torre, was refuted by Kristeller and partially rehabilitated by Marcel.

[geckomeleon]

Agnola a water Flower. Her entire body is made of marble making her incredibly tough and durable. She can't bring her self to hunt Monruits since they seem to be drawn to her and she doesn't like the idea of taking advantage of that. Her partner usually hunts food for her. Other Flowers can get a bit distracted during combat as Agnola has a very unique way of moving through the battlefield and wielding her weapon and elemental powers.

[froggysimmer01]

ʚ [Welcome to heaven] ɞ

Don't be scared, Agnola and Gabriel are the best tour-guide twins!

[ochoislas]

LA NINFA DEL TÍBER

La húmeda crin de tiberina margen diosa en forma de ninfa burla o pisa, y porque arda de amor la onda amorosa, desnudo pie le tiende a tiernos besos.

En tanto una graciosa aura traviesa va volándole en torno, ramas hiere, y revolviendo los cabellos de oro presas les roba ricas y olorosas.

Toda la playa engalanada ríe con el feliz despojo, y honra nueva del vivo sol de su mirar recoge.

No toca yerba el pie que no florezca, ni hay flor que su alba mano no descoja, ni hoja que la dorada crin no dore.

*

LA NINFA TIBERINA Per la signora Agnola Vitelli Soderini.

Su la sponda del Tebro umida erbosa, diva in forma di ninfa or scherza or siede, e perch’arda d’amor l’onda amorosa, nudo le porge ai molli baci il piede.

Aura intanto lasciva, aura vezzosa, dolce intorno le vola e i rami fiede; e la chioma spargendo aurea pomposa, ricche ne tragge ed odorate prede.

Ride di liete e verdeggianti spoglie tutta adorna la piaggia, e novi onori dal vivo Sol de’ suoi begli occhi accoglie.

Non tocca erba il bel piè, che non s’infiori; fior la candida man, che non s’infoglie; foglia l’aurato crin, che non s’indori.

Giovan Battista Marino

di-versión©ochoislas

[luv-cece888]

An angel! :D

yes I know I haven’t posted much mha x Steven universe stuff lately, but the motivation has been down lately and all I’ve really been drawing is my own OC’s from my story XD

her name is Agnola btw, she’s just literally an angel

[xirivington]

Family Members.

Name: Kathelyn Agnola Rivington

Handle: x.com/_yo_oa

Face-Claim’s DOB: September 17, 1995

OC’s DOB: August 30, XXXX

Janardean Tsaqif Rivington

Handle: x.com/_jeonghaan

Face-Claim’s DOB: October 4, 1995

OC’s DOB: November 26, XXXX

Ammerhdad Neegan Rivington

Handle: x.com/minghaont

Face-Claim’s DOB: November 7, 1997

OC’s DOB: August 2, XXXX

Mathilda Rue Rivington

Handle: x.com/Jihwom

Face-Claim’s DOB: May 19, 1998

OC’s DOB: May 24, XXXX

Blake Reed Rivington

Handle: x.com/zunwokim

Face-Claim’s DOB: April 12, 2000

OC’s DOB: May 6, XXXX

Lucian Atkins Rivington

Handle: x.com/Jjonngseong

Face-Claim’s DOB: April 20, 2002

OC’s DOB: January 20, XXXX

Kayden Gregory Rivington

Handle: x.com/suughoonpark

Face-Claim’s DOB: December 8, 2002

OC’s DOB: February 7, XXXX

Blair Yvonne Rivington

Handle: x.com/yujinive

Face-Claim’s DOB: September 1, 2003

OC’s DOB: February 8, XXXX

Seraphina Hawara Rivington

Handle: x.com/ivenaorei

Face-Claim’s DOB: February 3, 2004

OC’s DOB: September 4, XXXX

Gracelynn Clinton Rivington

Handle: x.com/choiseobyn

Face-Claim’s DOB: November 27th, 2004

OC’s DOB: October 10, XXXX

Naomi Gwyneth Rivington

Handle: x.com/hakellyi 

Face-Claim’s DOB: June 16, 2006

OC’s DOB: June 23, XXXX

[spoilledmillk]

i completely understand this and agree, i have very few artists from this time period whose works i find personally influential and thought provoking. the european artistic renaissance is an interesting art period to me specifically because of important artistic techniques being developed and refined during this time period. outside of that that… it’s hard to connect.

that being said, if you’re ever interesting in some more “unique” renaissance painting here are some of my favorite artists from the time period (in no particular order):

- Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1653)

technically baroque but a nice breath of fresh air from what i think of when i think renaissance. her work is expressive, dark, and fluid which i truly love. her depiction of women in her paintings is also gorgeous.

Judith Slaying Holofernes (1620)

- Sandro Botticelli (1445-1510)

one of the great greats, every art history lover knows about this guy. i am absolutely enamored with his style and his use of color. look up who simonetta is, knowing after looking at his many paintings of her the florentine noble adds beautiful context. knowing his story is not needed to enjoy the art, i see it as a cherry on top.

La Bella Simonetta (1480)

- Agnola Bronzinso (1503-1572)

Allegory with Venus and Cupid (~1540)

poor quality image but i just cannot get over how magical the figures look in this painting. their skin is so bright and soft, their figures are flowing and seem so lightweight, like they’re floating.

hope i could provide some pretty art from this area to you! the renaissance is my least favorite period in art history to study because i find it boring and overrated. however, i’ve learned a lot looking at work from this time period, so i’ve learned to like it even if i don’t LOVE it…

Renaissance art is so boring on the surface. Like you have to DIG to find interesting stuff and I hate it. Maybe I’m just bad at deep dives idk but some of these artists are so boring

[thatsusernameistaken]

In the Shadow of Their Soul

A short story inspired by the short film in Notre Vaust.

It happens, that death seems appealing to find our freedom when we’re crushed under fragments, and even if we have enough strength left, we are exhausted to fight so many battles without seeing the light of the tunnel, until we meet the right people, the one others looked upon, or barely acknowledge, and we find ourselves within them, we find the flowers beauty stronger than we remembered, the Sun burning stronger, the wind colder, and the night as peaceful as we used to love it, even when no war is won, we are so close to the edge, thinking we have nothing left to lose, and we enjoy it twice as much, if not ten thousand times of galaxies stronger, because we don’t know when our cracks will be to open for our soul to repair.

She got out of the tramway, waiting for a friend, they’d be late yet again. A woman, out of nowhere, or maybe she was already there but she hadn’t paid attention. The woman was the most beautiful soul she had ever seen, she looked like an angel, her perfume was sweet, vanilla? Flowers? White roses, how Agnola loved when they wilted, watching them slowly falling apart only to stay in the forever of the love she could still see within them. And just like she appeared out of nowhere, her mouth was moving, her voice, calm and elegant, she wasn’t focused and the woman knew it, she waited for Agnola to come back to her.

‘Well, I really thought you weren’t going to return to me for a minute there angel.’  Every words sounded from her, like an infinite melody, an eternal sunlight shining upon her. ‘I was wondering, if you’d like to take a coffee with me. It’s on me’

Agnola knew she was waiting for her friend, but the woman was so appealing, her everything she wanted to hear more of it, more of her, it felt like she couldn’t get enough of her, and her words spoke for her before she could even think about them ‘I don’t like coffee’

The woman, surprised by the answer, she usually only received no, no matter how she tried to have them, they always said no, and thus, with a small smile on her face, she could only respond ‘it doesn’t have to be a bitter taste for the both of us, maybe tea, or hot chocolate would suit you better then?’

As if she had read her mind, she knew, it wasn’t hard to understand how one didn’t stand the odor of perfume of the little dark beans. She hummed, how could one say no to the woman she hadn’t even gotten the name of?

And so, with little to no arguments, to both of their surprised, their feet took them freely, without second thoughts, to wherever they were to find what they were going to share.

The time seemed to stopped, and the woman did not know how to react, Agnola had the mustache of her beverage, ‘let me just’ she whispered in the peace they were. Her gentle touch made her shiver, ‘what happened to your hands?’ Agnola managed to let out.

Flushed, no one ever noticed merely when she mentioned it. She smiled, this one was special, ‘my bike derailed’.

And just like that, she had her own darkness reflecting on her cheek, the thin careful finger had moved up to it, caressing it with care.

‘I can fix it if you want.’ Their lips advanced slowly close to each other, she liked it, how they were so easily able to, with no shame, not an ounce of it, fit just right.

The woman hummed, and here it was, the promise she could solely answer, ‘I can fix you, if that’s what you wish’  her voice breaking, and with only a last breath, they closed what was rest of the world around them. She knew she broke her own demons, the demon she was when she felt the past growing back on her back, when their bodies collided in Agnola’s bed, the passion of the unknown yet felt like they had always known each other, the love they had created in a couple of seconds, with just their eyes connecting so fast as their soul did in that exact moment.

And just like that, as rapidly as they met, when Agnola should’ve said no, when Agnola shoul’dve made a dumb useless wish but felt important to her when the woman came back to her in another moment of despair, when the woman should’ve watched it all end, it was only beginning for it wasn’t strong enough compared to the closeness they had felt in their heart, at the mere sight of the redhead, her eyes reflecting the sky she used to contemplate, she wouldn’t be alone ever again, not even if it stayed a memory.

And just like that, her past disappeared, leaving no trace, not a single one, affecting her at the core, she was reborn, and the woman, with her past regrowing so rapidly with pure agony and painful pleasure, had found her soul coming back, the soul she was persuaded she had lost.

She couldn’t remember her name, she hadn’t said it, only smiled graciously when they introduced and lead the way.

And just like that, the world returned, the way she had when they met, but this time, she was still waiting for her friend, the woman disappearing in the time, from her mind, she felt a longing, and a purpose in it, she’d find what she had forgotten, someday.

Even if it meant when she met her days, in her end she would meet her beginning, what should have not stopped, she would find the woman, the woman she knew existed, but had only the blur of a souvenir graved when she closed her eyes, how long had she waited for it to happen she could not remember, and what was supposed to happened years ago happened.

Even the woman felt it, tried, with despair to stop it, she could wait, but the moment she decided their paths would crossed, it was bound to happen. Only, she hadn’t want it no more, she wanted Agnola to live at her best abilities, with only happiness and success she could muster on her knees begging.

But it was too late, the moment she had left, she knew, hope can solely get you so far.

And like the roses Agnola watched died to live forever, she became one, in the arms of the once fallen angel’s arms.

They were the fruit of the sprint and the fall, the renaissance and the death, hope and despair, angel and demons, they were the dragon of the roses they let die in their due time, like nature had planned, wanted them to, they were the love they had carried forever, and the beginning of their end, they were free, and in peace, together.

Love doesn’t spare anyone, not even demons and shadows of soul.

In our depth we lay

Our love ever lasting

Even in death we’re breathing

Hope we used to be

And yet here we are barely

Able to see beauty we used to be

For sometimes we are the deads wilted white roses

[osservatoriometeoraffaelli]

Domenica 2 Settembre 2018 a Bargone in Comune di Casarza Ligure, inaugurazione lapide commemorativa Prof. Don Gian Carlo Raffaelli e Santa Messa dedicata a San Don Agostino Roscelli

Domenica 2 Settembre 2018 a Bargone in Comune di Casarza Ligure, inaugurazione lapide commemorativa Prof. Don Gian Carlo Raffaelli e Santa Messa dedicata a San Don Agostino Roscelli

#osservatorioraffaelli DOMENICA 02 SETTEMBRE si terrà a partire dalle ore 16:00 l’inaugurazione della lapide commemorativa per il centenario dalla morte del Prof. Don Gian Carlo Raffaelli avvenuta l’11 Agosto 1918.Grazie all’Amministrazione Comunale di Casarza Ligure per il contributo economico per la sua realizzazione, vogliamo ricordare questa figura molto importante per la comunità locale e…

[thestalkerbunny]

Sudden random desire to build upon Princess Imena's Royal Family predcessors.

-Every member of the Agnola Royal Family desended from the orginal King has been females.

-All men in the Royal family are married into the Agnola bloodline and made to live in Agnola-which is highly unsual for the midevil time period.

-The Queens are such savage? I feel like that should be a constant trend in Agnola or at least among monsters-that in a monarchy sense, the Queen plays more verstile roles and are the movers and shakers while the king can only move at a certain set pace. The King can rule, but it's the Queen that goes to conquer.

-Imena's mother isn't the first of the royal family to fuck a dragon. She isn't the first to FUCK A DRAGON. SHE IS NOT THE FIRST ONE TO FUCK A DRAGON.

-all of Imena's predcessors have very VERY lowkey dragon-esque features (very sharp teeth, sort of cat like slit eyes, some of them wore very long gloves to cover scaling and skin abnormalities.) and are all human passing enough to never really be noticed heavily by their spouses.

-The orginal king was apparently a army deserter turned Robber after he lost most of his arm and decided to climb a mountain in an attempt to steal from a dragon's horde. The Dragon-being super old decided he liked the Robber and decided to finally do something useful with his horde since his day of impressing ladies is long gone. (Dragons are like Bower Birds. Hordes impress the ladies.) He gave his horde to the Robber and told him to build a kingdom in the valley. The Orginal King is often refered to as The Robber King and those who don't have an exact fondness for Agnola call it 'A kingdom built by a thief.'

-Outsider kingdoms are mildly scared of Agnola?? Like the whole kingdom itself is encircled by all these immense mountains that sort of keep other people out and the mountains are just COVERED in witches roaming around, and the monarchs don't ever really want to visit and they do the thing where they go 'maybe' to nearly every invitation and never show up and when they do decide to show up, they're those akward wall flowers that eat all your pizza rolls and go. But outside of that, other kingdoms get nervous when they hear that a new heir is born to Agnola because that means SOMEONE'S Princeling/Princessling is gonna end up getting married to these weird royal recluses.

-Queen Tabitha (known more fondly as Queen Bits.) was struck by an illness which bound her to bed and her life was speculated to be short. Being immensely irrtated by this, she gave money to the Plauge Doctor's Guild who developed very early leg braces. She lived to 119.

-Queen Mivve was well known for being nearly assassinated 20 times before she turned 19 by her own husband. He 'Died' under 'Mysterious' Circumstances and Mivve married an monster of obscure species referred to as an All-Furred. The royal children at the time greatly preferred their step-monster to their orginal parent who tried to murder their mother and on one or two attempts-them. Mivve was also the last Queen to be married young-after Mivve, all Agnolaian Princesses were to wait until they were 21 to marry any Suitors.

-Queens Mag and Agnes were twin sisters. Nobody was quite sure which one was actually ruling because they constantly swapped and took turns. They took immense time to master and copy each other's personalities perfectly to the point where historians consantly debated on wheter or not they were one person with a severe personality disorder or two extremely clever people who figured out how to do twice the work with half the effort. It was a lovely mixture of both. Both Mag and Agnes had A.D.D.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Right now, Plato paces the room as Marsilio reads Timaeus. When someone borrows one of his people for a long duration, it feels as if a fibre of Marsilio’s soul has been severed and he must beg to have that person returned so he can restitch everything back together inside of himself. Plato-Timaeus has only recently come back to him, stolen away as he was by Angelo for many months. They must reacquaint themselves with each other. All friends do, when there has been a distance of time and space between them. Marsilio is all earnest, honest intention but the letter from his sister on the bedside table keeps attracting his attention. Tommaso left, she says, then he returned. Now he is ill. What is there between these lines that speaks to him? Some riddle, that is certain. Marsilio turns a page as he turns this over. There is a matter here worthy of digging into. There is a matter here that might be quite grave. ‘I would have you pay attention to my words,’ Plato begs. ‘I think my sister has need of me rather urgently.’ ‘I would have you reread what you pretended to just read now,’ Plato insists. ‘Tommaso left,’ Marsilio says. ‘Then he returned. But there was something beneath left that I wish to know.’ ‘I’m asking you kindly,’ Plato whispers. ‘I shall leave tomorrow. He could be ill, but I suspect there is something else wrong beyond simple illness. Why not turn to a local doctor? Florence is not short of good men who would do well by her son. No, no, the meat of the letter was when she said that she needed to explain things to me in person. That if she wrote it out, it would cause her despair. That is what this all turns on. And mark me, my dear Plato, it must be very wrong indeed if Agnola is writing to me about it.’ Plato sits on the trunk at the foot of Marsilio’s bed, his robes swathed about him with his craterous, well-worn face turned towards moonlight. Marsilio regards the old philosopher for a time before saying, ‘I am sorry, I do mean to pay attention when I visit with you.’ ‘It is no matter.’ ‘It is a matter or you would not be so put out. Come,’ Marsilio pats the edge of the bed near him. ‘I shall be serious about our conversation. Where was I? Oh yes, you were telling me about the creation of the world’s soul. This is one of my favourite parts.’ ‘Naturally, it deals in love.’ ‘My dear Plato, if there is a philosophy that holds no love then it is not a philosophy worth knowing.’

One of my favourite things about Marsilio is how he spoke of his books as if they were literal humans. I love that for him. Bless his little platonic heart.

Anyway, his sister Agnola has written him about some spooky things happening and home regarding her son and our Marsilio is On The Case.

[authornamelists]

December Holidays Aesthetic (M/F)

Adlai/Adnah (M)/ Adah (F) - (Heb) Ornament

Adena (F) - (Heb) Decoration

Agnolo (M)/ Agnola (F) - (Ital) Angel

Ahsan (M) - (Arab) Compassion

Aleeza/Alieza/Aliza (F) - (Heb) Joy

Alvar (M/F) - (OE) Army of Elves

Amal (M/F) - (Arab) Hope

Angel (M)/ Angela (F) - (Gk) Messenger from God

Annunciata - (Lat) Annunciation to Mary she would bear Jesus

Arella (F) - (Heb) Messenger from God

Balthazar (M) - (Gk) God save the King, historically one of the Wise Men

Beata (F) - (Lat) Blessed

Blessing (M/F) - (OE) Consecration

Bogdana (F) - (Pol) Gift from God

Caspar/Jasper (M) - (Pers) He guards treasure, historically one of the Wise Men

Charity (F) - (Lat) Brotherly Love

Charmian (F) - (Gk) Joy

Christmas (M/F) - (OE) Mass of Christ

Claus/Klaus (M) - (Gk) People of victory, diminutive of Nicholas

Concepcion (F) - (Span) Conception of Christ

Collins (M) - (Ir Gael) Holly

Crystal (F) - (Gk) Ice

Dora (F) - (Gk) Gift

Dulcie (F) - (Lat) Sweet

Eira (F) - (Welsh) Snow

Ercole (M) - (It) Splendid gift

Evangeline (F) - Good news

Gabriel (M)/ Gabrielle (F) - Angel that foretold the birth of Jesus

Glenys (F) - (Welsh) Holy

Gloria (F) - (Lat) Glory

Holly (F) - (OE) Popular December greenery with red berries

Immaculada (F) - (Span) Immaculate Conception of Christ

Jesus (M)/ Jesusa (F) - (Heb/Span) Reference to Jesus and The Virgin Mary

Karim (M)/ Karimah (F) - (Arab) Giving

Ketura (F) - (Heb) Incense

Mandisa (F) - (South Africa) Sweet

Melchior (M) - (Pol) A king, traditionally one of the Wise Men

Milagros (M/F) - (Sp) Miracles

Myra/Myrrh (F) - (Lat) Scented oil

Myron (M) - (Gk) Fragrant oil

Natal (M/F)/ Natalie (F) - (Lat) Birth of Christ

Natividad (F) - (Sp) Christmas

Neva/Nevada (F) - (Sp) Snowy

Nicholas (M) - (Gk) People of victory, Dutch Sinte Klaas gives us Santa Claus

Noel (M)/ Noelle (F) - (Fr) Christmas

Nunzia (F)/Nuncio (M) (It) Messenger, related to Annunciato

Salvador/Salvatore (M)/ Salvadora (F) - (Sp) Saviour

Tasha/Natasha (F) - (Rus) Christmas

Theophania/Tiffany (F) - (Gk) Appearance of God, Wise Men visit Jesus

Viridis (F) - (Lat) Green

Winter (M/F) - (OE) Winter

Yehudi (M) - (Heb) Praise

[arponfiles]

¿Por qué las pinturas extrañas de los manieristas merecen una segunda mirada?

¿Por qué las pinturas extrañas de los manieristas merecen una segunda mirada?

Francesco Mazzola, llamado parmigianino. Madonna … Galleria degli … Jackson Arn https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-mannerists-bizarre-paintings-deserve-second?utm_medium=email&utm_source=15232393-newsletter-editorial-weekly-11-27-18&utm_campaign=editorial&utm_content=st-S Agnola Bronzino, Retrato de Lodovico Capponi , 1550–55. Imagen a través de Wikimedia…

[caveartfair]

Why the Mannerists’ Bizarre Paintings Deserve a Second Look

Madonna with the Long Neck, 1534-1540. Francesco Mazzola, called Parmigianino Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence

Agnola Bronzino, Portrait of Lodovico Capponi, 1550–55. Image via Wikimedia Commons.

Among the thousands of un-babyish babies in Italian art—a group big and bizarre enough to merit its own Tumblr—there are none quite like the infant Jesus in Parmigianino’s Madonna and Child with Angels (1534–40). Though clearly a newborn, Jesus must be well over 2 feet tall, most of that height contained in his long, skinny torso. Then there’s the infant’s lazy, almost languorous pose. He dangles precariously off of his mother’s lap; judging from the slope of Mary’s thigh, baby Jesus is about to slide to the floor. Not many people notice this accident-in-the-making the first time they see Parmigianino’s painting, probably because they’re too busy gaping at an even more bizarre feature of the work, the one that gave it its informal, better-known title: Madonna with the Long Neck.

Learning about Mannerism—the movement that arose in Italy in the early 16th century, of which Madonna of the Long Neck is a favorite example—means stumbling upon unbridled weirdness in works of art that might seem dully conventional at first glance. No wonder Mannerism remains a contentious topic for academics: There seems to be some kind requirement that every essay on the term begin by acknowledging how fiendishly difficult it is to define. Many art historians see the movement as a transitional one, jammed uncomfortably between the High Renaissance achievements of Michelangelo, Leonardo, and Raphael at the end of the 15th century and the extravagances of the Baroque era at the start of the 17th. They break it down by its key members (Parmigianino, Agnolo Bronzino, Benvenuto Cellini, Jacopo da Pontormo, Rosso Fiorentino) and defining features: bright colors, contorted figures, indeterminate spaces, and an overpowering sense of artificiality.

It might be better to understand Mannerism by getting a sense of what it was like to be a young painter in Italy at the beginning of the 16th century. The masters of the preceding generation had produced works that represented, at that moment in time, the apex of dramatic, lifelike painting. The smothering greatness of their achievements ushered in what Susan Sontag called a “late moment” in culture—an era whose peaks are already past—“that presumes an endless discourse anterior to itself.” For the younger generation, making art in the shadows of these giants must have been intimidating, to say the least.

Suzanne et les vieillards (Susanna and the elders), . Alessandro Allori Musée Magnin

The Deposition, 1525-1528. Jacopo da Pontormo Santa Felicita, Florence

In our own late moment, already poised to be remembered as the “Age of the Remix,” some postmodern artists have problematized the concept of originality, choosing to reinterpret old styles and forms, rather than start from scratch. Something roughly similar could be said for the Mannerist painters who emerged in the 1520s: The High Renaissance was like an austere parent, one they imitated and occasionally parodied, but could not ignore. “The strongest impression left behind by a typical Mannerist painting,” art historian Eric Newton once wrote, “is that the artist has derived hardly anything direct from nature, but has absorbed, digested, and stylized the paintings of others.” That’s an apt way to characterize Madonna with the Long Neck: It’s as if Parmigianino is playing a pictorial version of the telephone game, copying endless copies of Renaissance masterpieces until the image has mutated into something wilder than Raphael could have ever imagined.

Much as some contemporary artists use humor to distance themselves from their historical precedents, the Italian Mannerists often presented their Renaissance homages in a lighthearted spirit. Over the centuries, many have confused this playfulness with slightness, interpreting it as a tacit admission that Mannerism was just a knockoff of what came before. Until well into the 20th century, in fact, Mannerist painters were by and large considered minor figures in the canon. More recently, art historians have tended to see inventiveness where others once saw stagnation. In a famous 1964 essay, Sontag found in Mannerism an ancestor of the modern Camp sensibility—“a love of the unnatural: of artifice and exaggeration,” she wrote. New Yorker critic Peter Schjeldahl echoed Sontag’s point when he wrote that “we are mostly Mannerists now. Art about art, and style for style’s sake.” Mannerists may not have surpassed Michelangelo, exactly, but they found freedom in subservience, taking pleasure in an ironic form of imitation that was part homage, part parody.

The problem with irony is that some people won’t recognize it. The Florentine painter Bronzino is an excellent case in point: His reputation has gone up and down over the centuries, and his works, like Mannerism itself, are often described as “cold”—technically brilliant, but emotionless. Bronzino’s portrait of Lodovico Capponi, completed between 1550 and 1555, shows its young subject—a page in the Medici court—standing against a green curtain, so that viewers have no idea where he really is. His long, clever fingers; slightly pursed lips; and narrowed eyes make him seem menacing and faintly revolting, like a 16th-century Italian Draco Malfoy.

Christ Carrying the Cross, ca. 1577–1587. El Greco The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Four Seasons in One Head, ca. 1590. Giuseppe Arcimboldo National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

Yet it’s simply wrong to say that this is a “cold” portrait. In a sense, Bronzino presents his viewers with a mask, the kind that many callow, insecure young men still wear today. But he also offers us a glimpse underneath that mask: Witness the medallion Lodovico carries in his right hand, which depicts a woman’s face. It’s crucial to know that at the time he sat for this portrait, Lodovico was having a passionate affair with a woman who’d already been chosen as a bride for a member of the Medici family. Historians have suggested that Bronzino knew about the affair when he painted the portrait, and in this way, the work’s apparent chilliness becomes a joke, even a rather sweet one: No matter how hard this kid tries to model himself off of older, haughtier courtiers, he remains, at heart, a starry-eyed softie.

In the past 50 years or so, Mannerism has made a major comeback, to the point where scholars are trying to claim certain radical 16th-century artists as Mannerists, even if their works traditionally haven’t been studied through such a lens. The delightful paintings of Guiseppe Arcimoldo, which depict human beings built out of fruits, books, flowers, and more, may not seem to have much in common with the excessively stylized works of Bronzino or Parmigianino, but their vivid colors and cheeky humor make them excellent candidates. For that matter, the notion of using old or inanimate fragments to build something lively and new almost sounds like a metaphor for the Mannerist aesthetic.

Then there’s El Greco, the notoriously unclassifiable, late-16th-century painter who lived in Spain for most of his adult life. Studying in Venice and Rome as a young man, he would have come across many of the key Mannerist works, and later on, he carried their influence—along with that of Byzantine icons and Michelangelo’s sculptures—with him to Toledo. The long, slender martyr in Christ Carrying the Cross (ca. 1577–87) bears a clear resemblance to Parmigianino’s figures—he’s like the man the baby in Madonna of the Long Neck grows up to be­—and yet, it would be hard to confuse Parmigianino’s paintings for El Greco’s. In the best Mannerist works, the emotional meaning has to be teased out, slowly and carefully; in El Greco’s, strong emotion soaks through every square inch of the canvas, and the force of the figures’ faith or suffering or joy threatens to tear them to bits. Mannerism’s gaze is fixed on the High Renaissance; even when he’s consciously imitating earlier artists, El Greco seems to be looking forward hundreds of years to Cubism, Expressionism, and even Abstract Expressionism.

But whether El Greco was or wasn’t a card-carrying Mannerist isn’t really the point: He studied Mannerism for years, and in the process of imitating this highly imitative movement, he happened upon a style all his own. His work—give it whatever label you like—proves that artists can mimic and be highly original at the same time. That’s the thesis to which the Mannerists devoted their careers, one that’s crucial to bear in mind when we look at their paintings today.

from Artsy News