Christ and Saint Peter; the Resurrection; Christ and Mary Magdalen

The Artist: One of the leading painters in mid-fourteenth century Italy, Giovanni da Milano was trained in Lombardy, where he developed a style of soft delicacy and precise observation of the natural world. It was his great achievement to combine these traits with the rigorous sense of structure we associate with painting in Florence, where much of his activity was centered. Mid-century Florentine art was dominated by the sculptor-painter Andrea di Cione, better known as Orcagna. He rejected the fluid space and deep humanity found in the work of Giotto in favor of a more constricted, cubic space inhabited by stern figures. This style has been described as ritualistic and authoritarian—a revival of a medieval world view. However, there can be no denying that a more rigorous pictorial unity was achieved: austere and abstract, but possessing an almost tactile physicality. Giovanni da Milano brings to this austere art a subtle use of color and a feeling for sensuous beauty that have reminded some critics of the work of Simone Martini, and an acute observation of nature: "a harmony between sacred and profane poetics" (Roberto Longhi, the greatest twentieth-century critic of Italian art).

Giovanni da Milano’s life is not well documented. He was from Caversaccio, near Como, and probably moved from Lombardy to Florence a few years before 1346, when the name of "Johannes Jacobi de Commo" is listed together with other foreign artists liable to be expelled from Florence. As "da Milano" he was recorded in the matriculations of the Arte dei Medici e Speziali, between 1358 and 1363, and in a third document from 1363, when he owned three plots of land in the surroundings of Florence. In 1366, he and his sons became Florentine citizens. Together with other Florentine painters, in 1369 Giovanni was appointed to work in the Vatican; his work there does not survive (see Alberto Lenza, "Appendice documentaria su Giovanni a Milano," in Giovanni da Milano, exh. cat., Florence, 2008, pp. 297–306).

Giovanni signed only two works: a polyptych for the Spedale della Misericordia in Prato (now in the local museum), probably dateable shortly after 1355; and the Pietà from the church of San Girolamo alla Costa (but perhaps originaly for the nearby church of San Giorgio alla Costa), of 1365 (now in the Gallerie dell’Accademia, Florence).

The Painting: The picture depicts three episodes from the life of Christ. At the center is the Resurrection, with Christ standing on the lid of the sealed tomb, the top of which is sharply foreshortened. In one hand he holds a banner of victory while he raises the other in benediction. Around the tomb, their poses wonderfully varied, are the sleeping soldiers who had been charged to guard his sepulcher. This scene is set off from the other two by trees that reach the full height of the picture field. On the left we see Christ, his face wearing an expression of compassionate forgiveness, bending toward Saint Peter, who kneels, averting his gaze. Christ’s firm gesture confers a formal, liturgical quality on the scene, in which he charges Saint Peter to attend to the faithful ("Feed my sheep"). His ritualistic gesture is contrasted with the rich cascade of drapery, the edges of the cloaks being picked out in gold. The right hand scene describes an encounter of a very different kind. Mary Magdalen kneels before Christ, extending her hands as though to touch him. He withdraws, but turns toward her, his face showing great tenderness, his hand raised in a gesture of admonition ("Noli me tangere": Do not cling to me). The subtext of this tripartite scene would seem to be touch and sight as a means of spiritual apprehension. The depiction of Christ and Saint Peter—in which sight is averted and touch affirmed—is obviously the counterpoint to Christ and Mary Magdalen—in which there is a meaningful exchange of glances but touch is denied. Again, the two hands resting on the lid of the sarcophagus would seem to reinforce this theme, which in fact was a theological issue (see below, under Possible Theological Significance).

The combination of the three scenes in a single picture field is highly unusual, if not unique. Indeed, so unusual is the scene of Christ and Saint Peter that it has been interpreted both as Christ saving the apostle from drowning (though there is no water) and as Christ conferring his authority on the apostle. This emphasis of Christ’s authority may reinforce the hypothesis that the altarpiece came from a church dedicated to Christ the Savior—San Salvatore—such as the Florentine foundations at Settimo and Camaldoli (for this provenance see Bernacchioni 2008 and Parenti 2008). Strehlke (2008) has suggested as a possible location the chapel of the archbishop of Florence.

Reconstruction of the Altarpiece: Marabottini (1950) was the first to consider the panel of Christ Enthroned (Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan) as the center of a polyptych that had on the left hand a panel with eleven saints (Galleria Sabauda, Turin); the right hand panel is still missing. Davies (The Earlier Italian Schools, London, 1961) identified three pinnacle panels respectively depicting the Virgin, Christ of the Apocalypse, and John the Baptist (all in the National Gallery, London), and Boskovits (1966) tentatively connected all these paintings to two predella panels formerly in the Bacri collection (that is, the present panel and the scene of Christ and the apostles with Saint Thomas who places his finger in the wound in Christ’s side, now in the Alana collection (see Travi 2014). This suggestion was later supported by Mina Gregori (1972) and by all the other scholars who have written about this work (see fig. 1 above). A previously unknown fragment of the third scene of the predella was sold at Sotheby’s, New York (January 29, 2015, lot 1), and is now in the Alana collection. It shows Christ’s descent into Limbo, with his hand grasping an Old Testament patriarch. This recent discovery has made clear the original sequence of the three predella panels, which showed, left to right, the Descent into Limbo, the Resurrection, and the Doubting of Saint Thomas, thus confirming the hypothesis of Parenti (2008).

Possible Theological Significance: What unites the three scenes of the predella are the themes of sight and, especially, touch as a means of recognizing Christ. Regarding this it is worth citing the following, long passages from Saint Augustine’s Tractates on the Gospel of John: Tractate 121, relating to John 20:10–29 (translated by John Gibb, from Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, First Series, vol. 7, ed. Philip Schaff, Buffalo, N.Y., Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1888; revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight: http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/1701121.htm):

"1. Mary Magdalene had brought the news to His disciples, Peter and John, that the Lord was taken away from the sepulchre; and they, when they came there, found only the linen clothes wherewith the body had been shrouded; and what else could they believe but what she had told them, and what she had herself also believed? ‘Then the disciples went away again unto their own’ (home); that is to say, where they were dwelling, and from which they had run to the sepulchre. ‘But Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping.’ For while the men returned, the weaker sex was fastened to the place by a stronger affection. And the eyes, which had sought the Lord and had not found Him, had now nothing else to do but weep, deeper in their sorrow that He had been taken away from the sepulchre than that He had been slain on the tree; seeing that in the case even of such a Master, when His living presence was withdrawn from their eyes, His remembrance also had ceased to remain. Such grief, therefore, now kept the woman at the sepulchre. ‘And as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre.’ Why she did so I know not. For she was not ignorant that He whom she sought was no longer there, since she had herself also carried word to the disciples that He had been taken from thence; while they, too, had come to the sepulchre, and had sought the Lord's body, not merely by looking, but also by entering, and had not found it. What then does it mean, that, as she wept, she stooped down, and looked again into the sepulchre? Was it that her grief was so excessive that she hardly thought she could believe either their eyes or her own? Or was it rather by some divine impulse that her mind led her to look within? For look she did, ‘and saw two angels in white, sitting, the one at the head and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain.’ Why is it that one was sitting at the head, and the other at the feet? Was it, since those who in Greek are called angels are in Latin nuntii [news-bearers], that in this way they signified that the gospel of Christ was to be preached from head to foot, from the beginning even to the end? ‘They say to her, Woman, why do you weep? She says unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid Him.’ The angels forbade her tears: for by such a position what else did they announce, but that which in some way or other was a future joy? For they put the question, ‘Why do you weep?’ as if they had said, Weep not. But she, supposing they had put the question from ignorance, unfolded the cause of her tears. ‘Because,’ she said, ‘they have taken away my Lord:’ calling her Lord's inanimate body her Lord, meaning a part for the whole; just as all of us acknowledge that Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, our Lord, who of course is at once both the Word and soul and flesh, was nevertheless crucified and buried, while it was only His flesh that was laid in the sepulchre. ‘And I know not,’ she added, ‘where they have laid Him.’ This was the greater cause of sorrow, because she knew not where to go to mitigate her grief. But the hour had now come when the joy, in some measure announced by the angels, who forbade her tears, was to succeed the weeping.

2. Lastly, ‘when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus says unto her, Woman, why do you weep? Whom do you seek? She, supposing Him to be the gardener, says unto Him, Sir, If you have borne Him hence, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away. Jesus says unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and says unto Him, Rabboni, which is to say, Master.’ Let no one speak ill of the woman because she called the gardener, Sir (domine), and Jesus, Master. For there she was asking, here she was recognizing; there she was showing respect to a person of whom she was asking a favor, here she was recalling the Teacher of whom she was learning to discern things human and divine. She called one lord (sir), whose handmaid she was not, in order by him to get at the Lord to whom she belonged. In one sense, therefore, she used the word Lord when she said, ‘They have taken away my Lord; and in another, when she said, Sir (lord), if you have borne Him hence.’ For the prophet also called those lords who were mere men, but in a different sense from Him of whom it is written, ‘The Lord is His name.’ But how was it that this woman, who had already turned herself back to see Jesus, when she supposed Him to be the gardener, and was actually talking with Him, is said to have again turned herself, in order to say unto Him ‘Rabboni,’ but just because, when she then turned herself in body, she supposed Him to be what He was not, while now, when turned in heart, she recognized Him to be what He was.

3. ‘Jesus says unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; to my God, and your God.’ There are points in these words which we must examine with brevity indeed, but with somewhat more than ordinary attention. For Jesus was giving a lesson in faith to the woman, who had recognized Him as her Master, and called Him so in her reply; and this gardener was sowing in her heart, as in His own garden, the grain of mustard seed. What then is meant by ‘Touch me not’? And just as if the reason of such a prohibition would be sought, He added, ‘for I am not yet ascended to my Father.’ What does this mean? If, while standing on earth, He is not to be touched, how could He be touched by men when sitting in heaven? For certainly, before He ascended, He presented Himself to the touch of the disciples, when He said, as testified by the evangelist Luke, ‘Handle me, and see; for a spirit has not flesh and bones, as you see me have;’ [Luke 24:39] or when He said to Thomas the disciple, ‘Reach hither your finger, and behold my hands; and put forth your hand, and thrust it into my side.’ And who could be so absurd as to affirm that He was willing indeed to be touched by the disciples before He ascended to the Father, but refused it in the case of women till after His ascension? But no one, even had any the will, was to be allowed to run into such folly. For we read that women also, after His resurrection and before His ascension to the Father, touched Jesus, among whom was Mary Magdalene herself; for it is related by Matthew that Jesus met them, and said, ‘All hail. And they approached, and held Him by the feet, and worshipped Him.’ [Matthew 28:9] This was passed over by John, but declared as the truth by Matthew. It remains, therefore, that some sacred mystery must lie concealed in these words; and whether we discover it or utterly fail to do so, yet we ought to be in no doubt as to its actual existence. Accordingly, either the words, ‘Touch me not, for I am not yet ascended to my Father,’ had this meaning, that by this woman the Church of the Gentiles was symbolized, which did not believe in Christ till He had actually ascended to the Father, or that in this way Christ wished Himself to be believed on; in other words, to be touched spiritually, that He and the Father are one. For He has in a manner ascended to the Father, to the inward perception of him who has made such progress in the knowledge of Christ that he acknowledges Him as equal with the Father: in any other way He is not rightly touched, that is to say, in any other way He is not rightly believed on. But Mary might have still so believed as to account Him unequal with the Father, and this certainly is forbidden her by the words, ‘Touch me not;’ that is, Believe not thus on me according to your present notions; let not your thoughts stretch outwards to what I have been made in your behalf, without passing beyond to that whereby you have yourself been made. For how could it be otherwise than carnally that she still believed on Him whom she was weeping over as a man? ‘For I am not yet ascended,’ He says, ‘to my Father:’ there shall you touch me, when you believe me to be God, in no wise unequal with the Father. ‘But go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father.’ He says not, Our Father: in one sense, therefore, is He mine, in another sense, yours; by nature mine, by grace yours. ‘And my God, and your God.’ Nor did He say here, Our God: here, therefore, also is He in one sense mine, in another sense yours: my God; under whom I also am as man; your God, between whom and you I am mediator.

4. ‘Mary Magdalene came and told the disciples, I have seen the Lord, and He has spoken these things unto me. Then the same day at evening, being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jesus, and stood in the midst, and says unto them, Peace be unto you. And when He had so said, He showed unto them His hands and His side.’ For nails had pierced His hands, a spear had laid open His side: and there the marks of the wounds are preserved for healing the hearts of the doubting. But the shutting of doors presented no obstacle to the matter of His body, wherein Godhead resided. He indeed could enter without their being opened, by whose birth the virginity of His mother remained inviolate, ‘Then were the disciples glad when they saw the Lord. Then said He unto them again, Peace be unto you.’ Reiteration is confirmation; for He Himself gives by the prophet a promised peace upon peace. ‘As the Father has sent me,’ He adds, ‘even so send I you.’ We know the Son to be equal to the Father; but here we recognize the words of the Mediator. For He exhibits Himself as occupying a middle position when He says, He me, and I you. ‘And when He had said this, He breathed on them, and said unto them, Receive the Holy Ghost.’ By breathing on them He signified that the Holy Spirit was the Spirit, not of the Father alone, but likewise His own. ‘Whose soever sins,’ He continues, ‘ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever ye retain, they are retained.’ The Church's love, which is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Spirit, discharges the sins of all who are partakers with itself, but retains the sins of those who have no participation therein. Therefore it is, that after saying ‘Receive the Holy Ghost,’ He straightway added this regarding the remission and retention of sins.

5. ‘But Thomas, one of the twelve, who is called Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said unto him, We have seen the Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe. And after eight days, again His disciples were within, and Thomas with them. Then came Jesus, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, Peace be unto you. Then says He to Thomas, Reach hither your finger, and behold my hands; and reach hither your hand, and put it into my side: and be not faithless, but believing. Thomas answered and said unto Him, My Lord and my God.’ He saw and touched the man, and acknowledged the God whom he neither saw nor touched; but by the means of what he saw and touched, he now put far away from him every doubt, and believed the other. ‘Jesus says unto him, Because you have seen me, you have believed.’ He says not, You have touched me, but, ‘You have seen me,’ because sight is a kind of general sense. For sight is also habitually named in connection with the other four senses: as when we say, Listen, and see how well it sounds; smell it, and see how well it smells; taste it, and see how well it savors; touch it, and see how hot it is. Everywhere has the word, See, made itself heard, although sight, properly speaking, is allowed to belong only to the eyes. Hence here also the Lord Himself says, ‘Reach hither your finger, and behold my hands:’ and what else does He mean but, Touch and see? And yet he had no eyes in his finger. Whether therefore it was by looking, or also by touching, ‘Because you have seen me,’ He says, ‘you have believed.’ Although it may be affirmed that the disciple dared not so to touch, when He offered Himself for the purpose; for it is not written, And Thomas touched Him. But whether it was by gazing only, or also by touching that he saw and believed, what follows rather proclaims and commends the faith of the Gentiles: ‘Blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.’ He made use of words in the past tense, as One who, in His predestinating purpose, knew what was future, as if it had already taken place. But the present discourse must be kept from the charge of prolixity: the Lord will give us the opportunity to discourse at another time on the topics that remain."

Saint Augustine continues this theme in his discussion of Christ’s charge to Saint Peter, found in John 20:30–21:11 (Tractate 122):

"1. After telling us of the incident in connection with which the disciple Thomas had offered to his touch the places of the wounds in Christ's body, and saw what he would not believe, and believed, the evangelist John interposes these words, and says: ‘And many other signs truly did Jesus in the presence of His disciples, which are not written in this book: but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye may have life through His name.’ This paragraph indicates, as it were, the end of the book; but there is afterwards related how the Lord manifested Himself at the sea of Tiberias, and in the draught of fishes made special reference to the mystery of the Church, as regards its future character, in the final resurrection of the dead. I think, therefore, it is fitted to give special prominence thereto, that there has been thus interposed, as it were, an end of the book, and that there should be also a kind of preface to the narrative that was to follow, in order in some measure to give it a position of greater eminence. The narrative itself begins in this way: ‘After these things Jesus showed Himself again to the disciples at the sea of Tiberias; and on this wise showed He (Himself). There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas called Didymus, and Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the sons of Zebedee, and two other of His disciples. Simon Peter says unto them, I go a fishing. They say unto him, We also go with you.’

2. The inquiry is usually made in connection with this fishing of the disciples, why Peter and the sons of Zebedee returned to what they were before being called by the Lord; for they were fishers when He said to them, ‘Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.’ [Matthew 4:19] And they put such reality into their following of Him then, that they left all in order to cleave to Him as their Master: so much so, that when the rich man went away from Him in sorrow, because of His saying to him, ‘Go sell that you have, and give to the poor, and you shall have treasure in heaven, and come follow me,’ Peter said unto Him, ‘Lo, we have forsaken all, and followed You.’ Why is it then that now, by the abandonment as it were of their apostleship, they become what they were, and seek again what they had forsaken, as if forgetful of the words they had once listened to, ‘No man, putting his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of heaven’? [Luke 9:62] Had they done so when Jesus was lying in the grave, before He rose from the dead—which of course they could not have done, as the day whereon He was crucified kept them all in closest attention till His burial, which took place before evening; while the next day was the Sabbath, when it was unlawful for those who observed the ancestral custom to work at all; and on the third day the Lord rose again, and recalled them to the hope which they had not yet begun to entertain regarding Him—yet had they then done so, we might suppose it had been done under the influence of that despair which had taken possession of their minds. But now, after His restoration to them alive from the tomb, after the most evident truth of His revivified flesh offered to their eyes and hands, not only to be seen, but also to be touched and handled; after inspecting the very marks of the wounds, even to the confession of the Apostle Thomas, who had previously declared that he would not otherwise believe; after the reception by His breathing on them of the Holy Spirit, and after the words poured from His lips into their ears, "As the Father has sent me, even so send I you: whose so ever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever ye retain, they are retained:’ they suddenly become again what they had been, fishers, not of men, but of fishes."

Keith Christiansen and Mattia Vinco 2017

George Sutherland-Leveson-Gower, 5th Duke of Sutherland, Stafford House, London (until 1927; sale, Christie's, London, July 8, 1927, no. 57A, as "The Resurrection; and The Incredulity of St. Thomas, Two portions of a Predella—a pair," for £1522.10.0 to Bacri); [Bacri Frères, Paris, 1927–at least 1958]; private collection, Paris (in 2008); Mr. and Mrs. J. Tomilson Hill, New York (from 2009)

Milan. Palazzo Reale. "Arte lombarda dai Visconti agli Sforza," April 1–June 30, 1958, no. 59 (as "Noli me tangere e Resurrezione," by Giovanni da Milano, lent by J. Bacri, Paris).

Florence. Galleria dell'Accademia. "Giovanni da Milano: capolavori del gotico fra Lombardia e Toscana," June 10–November 2, 2008, no. 27d (with companion panel; lent by a private collection, Paris).

Bernardo Berenson. "Quadri senza casa: il Trecento fiorentino, II." Dedalo 11 (1931), pp. 1065–66, ill. p. 1061, illustrates it with its companion panel depicting the incredulity of Saint Thomas (now in the Alana collection, Newark, Delaware), attributing both to Giovanni di Milano and noting that they formed part of the same predella.

Alessandro Marabottini. Giovanni da Milano. Florence, 1950, pp. 88–89, pl. XVIIIb, attributes it to the workshop, after a design by the master; finds the companion panel superior, but also showing workshop participation in the right-hand figures; relates the composition of the companion panel to the fresco in the last bay of the central nave of the Viboldone Abbey.

Franco Russoli in Arte lombarda dai Visconti agli Sforza. Exh. cat., Palazzo Reale. Milan, 1958, pp. 23–24, no. 59, pl. XXIX (with companion panel).

Bernard Berenson. Italian Pictures of the Renaissance: Florentine School. London, 1963, vol. 1, p. 90.

A[lessandro]. Marabottini. "Una crocifissione di Giovanni da Milano e i soggiorni del pittore in Toscana e in Lombardia." Commentari, n.s., 16 (January–June 1965), p. 31, includes both panels in a group of pictures that he dates between about 1363 and 1369, and suggests that they may have originally formed part of the same altarpiece as the Christ in the Contini collection (now Pinacoteca di Brera, Milan).

Miklós Boskovits. Giovanni da Milano. Florence, 1966, p. 26, associates three pinnacles in the National Gallery, London, with the Christ Enthroned in Milan and a panel depicting eleven saints in the Galleria Sabauda, Turin; is uncertain that the two predella panels belonged to the same altarpiece, although finding them stylistically similar and dating from the same period.

"Il Cristo Giudice di Giovanni da Milano per la Pinacoteca di Brera." Bollettino dell'Associazione degli Amici di Brera e dei Musei Milanesi (October 1970–January 1971), p. 7, cites the opinion of Mina Gregori that the polyptych is probably to be identified with the one commissioned by Piero del Pelagio for the altar of the chapter house of the Camaldolese convent of Santa Maria degli Angeli in Florence, noting that the first mass is recorded as having been celebrated there on Christmas day 1371.

Miklos Boskovits. "Notes sur Giovanni da Milano." Revue de l'art no. 11 (1971), pp. 57–58 n. 9, includes the two predella panels in the same altarpiece as the panels in London, Milan, and Turin; dates this altarpiece about 1364–66, toward the end of Giovanni's Florentine period, along with a polyptych split between Paris, Pisa, and Williamstown; a Pietà in the Accademia, Florence; and frescoes in the Rinuccini chapel, Santa Croce, Florence.

Franco Mazzini in Restauri in Piemonte 1968/1971. Exh. cat., Galleria Sabauda. Turin, 1971, p. 37, under no. 1.

Mina Gregori. "Giovanni da Milano: storia di un polittico." Paragone 23 (March 1972), p. 3, mentions the two predella panels as probably part of the Milan/Turin/London altarpiece.

Miklòs Boskovits. Pittura fiorentina alla vigilia del Rinascimento, 1370–1400. Florence, 1975, p. 204 n. 124.

Luigi Cavadini in Giovanni da Milano. Ed. Luigi Cavadini. Valmorea, Italy, 1980, pp. 90–99, no. 12F, ill., reconstructs the altarpiece with the pinnacles in London, the two predella panels, and five main panels (Milan, Turin, and three unidentified); dates it 1365–71; notes that whereas Gregori (see Bollettino 1970–71) suggested identifying the altarpiece with one commissioned for Santa Maria degli Angeli in Florence, Marcucci ("Gallerie nationali di Firenze: i dipinti toscani del secolo XIV," Rome, 1965, p. 85) identified the Milan and Turin panels with the altarpiece made for Santa Croce mentioned by Vasari; interprets the scene at left as Christ giving the keys to Saint Peter.

Paolo Venturoli in Giovanni da Milano. Ed. Luigi Cavadini. Valmorea, Italy, 1980, p. 111, believes that the Milan panel shows a knowledge of Giotto's Stefaneschi triptych (Pinacoteca Vaticana), which would date the altarpiece after Giovanni da Milano's visit to Rome in 1369.

Carlo Volpe. "Il lungo percorso del 'dipingere dolcissimo e tanto unito'." Storia dell'arte italiana. Vol. 5, pt. 2, v. 1, Turin, 1983, p. 299.

Martin Davies and Dillian Gordon. The Early Italian Schools Before 1400. London, 1988, pp. 36–37, under no. 579A, are skeptical of identifying the altarpiece with either the one for Santa Croce mentioned by Vasari or the one for Santa Maria degli Angeli (see Cavadini 1980); dismiss the possibility that there may have been five main panels rather than three; discuss the apocalyptic iconography of the altarpiece, especially the three pinnacles; consider a date of about 1364–66 likely; interpret the scene at left as Saint Peter walking on water.

Carla Travi in Pinacoteca di Brera: scuole lombarda e piemontese, 1300–1535. Milan, 1988, p. 65, under no. 68.

M[ina]. Gregori in Enciclopedia dell'arte medievale. Vol. 6, Rome, 1995, p. 737.

Liana Castelfranchi Vegas. "I pittori lombardi di Viboldone." Un monastero alle porte della città. Milan, 1999, p. 273.

V[alerio]. Ascani in Dizionario biografico degli italiani. Vol. 56, Rome, 2001, p. 90, without specifically mentioning the predella panels, states that the Milan/Turin/London altarpiece was probably made for Santa Maria degli Angeli (see Bollettino 1970–71).

Paola Strada in Per Brera: collezionisti e doni alla Pinacoteca dal 1882 al 2000. Ed. Marco Cresseri. Florence, 2004, pp. 134, 136.

C. E. Travi Caspani in Allgemeines Künstlerlexikon: die bildenden Künstler aller Zeiten und Völker. Vol. 55, Munich, 2007, p. 42.

Daniela Parenti in Giovanni da Milano: capolavori del gotico fra Lombardia e Toscana. Ed. Daniela Parenti. Exh. cat., Galleria dell'Accademia. Florence, 2008, pp. 242–49, no. 27d, ill. (color, overall and altarpiece reconstruction), dates the altarpiece 1365–69; interprets the scene at the left of this panel as Jesus consigning care of his flock to Peter during his appearance to his disciples at the lake of Tiberias (Sea of Galilee) after his Resurrection (John 21:1–17).

Carl Brandon Strehlke. "Giovanni da Milano; Giotto and His Heirs: Florence." Burlington Magazine 150 (October 2008), p. 713, disagrees with the exhibition reconstruction, which places this panel in the center of the predella and the Doubting Thomas at right, arguing that this panel was probably at the left, the Doubting Thomas at center, and the missing third panel, possibly an Ascension, at right.

Annamaria Bernacchioni in Giovanni da Milano: capolavori del gotico fra Lombardia e Toscana. Ed. Daniela Parenti. Exh. cat., Galleria dell'Accademia. Florence, 2008, pp. 99–100, suggests that the altarpiece was made for a church dedicated to the Savior, mentioning the monastery of San Salvatore di Camaldoli at Florence, the Cistercian monastery of San Salvatore at Settimo, and especially the bishop's church of San Salvatore, Florence, where it would have been commissioned by Pietro Corsini, bishop of Florence from 1362 until 1369.

Dillian Gordon. The Italian Paintings Before 1400. London, 2011, pp. 251–54 nn. 16, 21, figs. 1, 14 (color, overall and altarpiece reconstruction), places this panel in the center of the predella and the Doubting Thomas on the right, discussing the possible subject of the missing third panel; finds a strong possibility that the altarpiece was painted for the chapel of the bishop of Florence (see Bernacchioni 2008).

Sonia Chiodo. A Critical and Historical Corpus of Florentine Painting. Ed. Miklós Boskovits. Vol. 9, section 4, Painters in Florence after the "Black Death": The Master of the Misericordia and Matteo di Pacino. Florence, 2011, pp. 370–72, proposes that the altarpiece was made for the high altar of the church of the Cistercian monastery of San Salvatore at Badia a Settimo (see also Bernacchioni 2008).

Carla Travi in The Alana Collection. Ed. Sonia Chiodo and Serena Padovani. Vol. 3, Italian Paintings from the 14th to 16th Century. Florence, 2014, pp. 136, 139–40, 142 nn. 3, 4, 7, p. 143 nn. 10, 30, 31, figs. 19a–b (overall and altarpiece reconstruction), in the catalogue entry for the companion predella panel, agrees that the altarpiece was most likely a triptych and that this panel was in the center of the predella; suggests that the missing predella panel may have depicted the Harrowing of Hell or the Crucifixion; suggests that the altarpiece may have been commissioned by the Tribunale della Mercanzia of Florence for an altar recorded in 1359 in an upper room of the Palazzo della Mercanzia; dates the altarpiece between 1363 and 1365; states that the two predella panels remained in the Bacri collection in Paris until this one was sold in 2009.

Master Paintings: Part I. Sotheby's, New York. January 29, 2015, p. 10, fig. 1 (color, altarpiece reconstruction), under no. 1, mentions it in connection with a fragment from a Descent into Limbo, possibly part of the missing third predella panel.

Keith Christiansen in Regards sur les primitifs: Mélanges en l'honneur de Dominique Thiébaut. Paris, 2018, pp. 66, 69–70, 72–73, figs. 2, 4 (color, altarpiece reconstruction and overall), proposes an Augustinian interpretation of the altarpiece.