Sea monster

Before Leo Planiscig’s discovery in 1935 of Severo da Ravenna’s signed Sea-Monster, the model for these hybrid creatures, and Severo’s oeuvre more generally, had been attributed to Bellano and Riccio.[1] Planiscig was the first to identify a series of bronze marine monsters, some independent and others with Neptune atop, designating them as the work of a third Paduan master, the anonymous “Master of the Dragons,”[2] until his fortuitous encounter with the signature O.SEVERI.RA a decade later in Robert Mayer’s collection in Vienna. Now at the Frick, the autograph Sea-Monster is widely considered to be the finest surviving example and the archetype for all subsequent models (fig. 36a).[3] More than a dozen versions of this composition exist, varying in detail and quality of execution, but they conform to the basic formula of a serpentine body, froglike front limbs, and a human visage framed by a foliate beard.[4] Apart from the Frick exemplar, John Pope-Hennessy identified the best versions of the standalone monster as those in the V&A and the Kunsthistorisches Museum.[5]

Of the two Met casts, the Linsky bronze is clearly of higher quality. With its furrowed brows, sorrowful eyes, and contorting grimace, it retains the anguish of the Frick prototype, in contrast to the Mills beast’s lack of expression. Its dense scales were mainly incised in the wax, then later sharpened through chasing to create a more vibrant surface, which scatters light at odd angles. Juxtaposed against this textural roughness is the smooth slickness of its tulip-shaped caudal fin. As the sinuous tail curls into a spiral, one gets a palpable sense of the powerful muscle beneath its writhing surface. A black patina, typical of most Paduan bronzes, was applied to the cast bronze and appears to have worn off in spots over time.[6] The warm brown patina, most visible in the middle of its trunk, appears to be the result of natural oxidization. James David Draper first published this bronze when it entered The Met as part of the Linsky bequest, connecting the monster to its counterpart in a Neptune group in the Bargello.[7] Judging from its lively handling and close resemblance to the Frick Sea-Monster, the Linsky bronze should be considered one of the more accomplished workshop casts of this widespread composition. Lacking a screwed insert, it was probably a decorative object kept in a cabinet, or used as a paperweight.

On the other hand, the Mills bronze is a late workshop production, far removed from Severo’s direct involvement, that exemplifies how a celebrated model can become a conventional utilitarian object, debased in quality. Lacking the graphic animation of the Linsky bronze, it has an inert surface, is lazily tooled, and possesses less defined, shorter fins; its droopy tail appears disconnected from the main body. The cockleshell most likely held blotting sand rather than ink, which tended to be stored in a narrower receptacle to minimize evaporation.[8] A tapered screw mount on the lower half of its back indicates a missing vessel, perhaps an inkpot. Severo and his workshop characteristically employed screws like these to affix functional elements on figures. However, the shell integrally cast with the monster’s front limbs suggests a departure from his working methods, and thus indicates a later date. A sea monster sold at Sotheby’s in 2016, similar to the Mills bronze in its modeling of the head and scales, comes with an inkwell and provides an image of what the Mills cast might have looked like originally.[9] Based on its function and flattened pose, this beached marine monster would have sat within arm’s reach on a desk in a scholar’s study. The Mills bronze was exhibited and first published in a small exhibition on Severo da Ravenna at the Frick in 1978.[10] The show was significant for being the first time radiographic examinations of Severo’s bronzes were conducted and discussed, which allowed scholars to further distinguish his works on a technical level.[11]

Facing rising demand for such implements from the scholarly community in Padua and, as the century progressed, throughout Italy, Severo systematically employed piece-molds of his wax models and plaster cores to facilitate his designs’ reproduction in bronze, which thus enabled his workshop to remain remarkably prolific decades after his death.[12] His shop generally cast in less costly brass, which was found in most of The Met examples, including our Sea Monsters. He was also well-known for using threaded screws to attach assorted prefabricated parts onto his bronzetti, which permitted figural sculpture to be adapted for different functions.[13] As Richard Stone has observed, production of these squamate creatures is perhaps best understood by conceptualizing them as reliefs, rather than as three-dimensional sculptures, because they are open underneath.[14] Consequently, Severo’s marine monsters were much easier and quicker to produce than figures in the round. This composition was so well-received that it spurred imitations and variants at other Paduan foundries, which might explain why, out of Severo’s entire oeuvre, the Sea Monster survives in the greatest number.[15]

Severo’s invention derives from the bridled beast on the far left in Andrea Mantegna’s engraving of the Battle of the Sea Gods,[16] but could also refer to the ketos or pistrix, the monster Perseus vanquished to rescue Andromeda.[17] Severo’s monster, however, is no leviathan: the agony on its face recalls the features of the suffering Trojan priest of the Laocoön marble group.[18] For a Renaissance patron, the bronze would have embodied the conflict between the noble and the bestial in human nature.[19] More a marvel than a menace, the Sea Monster and its immense popularity reflect the early modern fascination with fantastic beasts, recounted in the ancient tales of Apollodorus of Athens and in contemporary travel accounts.[20] The wide disparity in quality between The Met’s two bronzes testifies to the longevity of Severo’s creation. Together, they bespeak the enduring Renaissance interest in “the swarming monsters found beneath the surface of the marbled sea.”[21]
-AF

Footnotes
(For key to shortened references see bibliography in Allen, Italian Renaissance and Baroque Bronzes in The Metropolitan Museum of Art. NY: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2022.)


1. Planiscig 1935. For attributions to or after Bellano, see Morelli 1884, p. 71 (identifying the beast as a crocodile); Bode 1907–12, vol. 1, pl. XXIV; Bode 1910, vol. 1, p. xii, pls. XVI–XVIII; Bode 1922, p. 26. For attributions to Riccio, see Bode 1922, p. 25. See Padua 2001, pp. 135–39, for Jeremy Warren’s comprehensive examination of Severo da Ravenna’s critical fortune with additional references.
2. Planiscig 1924, pp. 15–17; Planiscig 1927, pp. 105–13, figs. 106–16.
3. Planiscig 1935, p. 79. Planiscig attributes all versions of the sea monster to the sculptor’s studio, but Pope-Hennessy 1965, p. 22 n. 43, demurs, given the difference in quality of the many variants vis-à-vis the Frick bronze. For a general overview, see Davidson 1997, p. 15.
4. De Winter 1986, p. 132 n. 43, offers a preliminary but detailed list of about seventeen or so related examples of the sea monster, including both Met bronzes, but there are certainly more workshop copies in private collections.
5. Pope-Hennessy 1970, p. 130. V&A, A.15-1967 (Motture 2019, p. 160, pl. 5.27); KHM, KK 5901 (Leithe-Jasper 1976, p. 105, cat. 139).
6. Stone 2010, pp. 107–8.
7. Draper notes that the Bargello group (inv. bronzi 1879 n. 106) is less vigorous than those in the Frick (1916.2.12) and the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. (1942.9.104); Linsky 1984, p. 147. See Rago 2010–11, fig. 10, for the Bargello Neptune on the Sea Monster.
8. Davidson 1997, p. 13.
9. Sotheby’s, London, July 5, 2016, lot 66; see Scalini and Tartuferi 2001, p. 70, cat. 51, pl. 26. 10. Munhall 1978, no. 8.
11. Warren in Padua 2001, p. 137.
12. Stone 2006, p. 813.
13. Ibid., p. 818.
14. Ibid., p. 815.
15. Motture 2019, pp. 159–61. For instance, see the sea monster with a female figure above (possibly Andromeda) in Planiscig 1935, p. 80, no. 42, and the reversed pose of the sea monster in the Civici Musei di Arte e Storia di Brescia (BR 40) in Beck and Bol 1985, pp. 519–20, cat. 234, and Motture 2012, pp. 284–85, no. VII/16.
16. MMA, 1984.1201.4.
17. Jacopo de’ Barbari’s woodcut View of Venice (1500) also features a Mantegnesque Neptune astride a watery creature. See Davidson 1997, pp. 16–18, and Luchs 2010, pp. 159–61, for specific examples of sea monsters with which Severo would have been familiar.
18. De Winter 1986, p. 94.
19. Luchs 2010, pp. 160–61.
20. Davidson 1997, p. 24; De Winter 1986, pp. 92–98.
21. Aeneid VI.729, as cited in Davidson 1997, p. 21.
22. ESDA/OF contain correspondence between Denise Lenore Jones and Sotheby’s London to ascertain if the Linsky bronze was lot 117 sold in December 1956, but it remains uncertain as the auction house does not have photographs of the sold lot.