While patronage is a well-known facet of Renaissance art, and out of hand the modern researcher might only consider it in passing as the necessary means for which many an artist found work and through which countless masterpieces were created. What has not always been considered—though ithas become increasingly researched over time, with various views and opinions emerging—is the exact nature of the relationship between patrons and artists, and how patronage affected Renaissance artwork. The questions of who or what really contributed to the mastery of a piece naturally arises, and scholars must consider just how limiting or freeing patronage really was for the Renaissance artist and their works.Patronage was, as said, a necessity in Renaissance art. Patrons provided the monetary means to producing costly works of art, and artists put to oil and marble the imaginings of their patrons (Kent 3). Patronage came in many ways—the Church was a common patron, contracting the construction of chapels, churches, altarpieces and frescoes; the clergy’s hand can be seen inpieces ranging from Bellini’s San Giovanni Crisostomo Altarpiece (Goffen 112), to Bregno and Montelupo’s Monument of Benedetto Pesaro in Venice (Goffen 64), to Michelangelo’s famous Sistine Chapel. Frequent patrons also lay in the wealthy, the nobility, and royalty, with many noteworthy examples,some which explored in greater detail later on, including Isabella d’Este, the Sforzas, Cosimo, and of course the ever-prominent de’ Medici. Guilds, too, played a part in patronage; many records still exist of contacts between artists from Bruni to Ghiberti with organizations such as the Cloth Guild (Chambers 47) and the Money-changers Guild (Chambers 42).No matter which form it took, patronage formed an integral part of Renaissance artistry, serving as the main means by which art of all kinds, from sculpture to painting to architecture, was produced. However, common practice or no, the essential idea behind it is still suspect to debate—the patron paid the artisan to produce what they asked for. How yielding a patronwas to suggestion, how much flexibility an artist was given, how much an artist need or need not defer to the patron—all lead to the questions of a patron’s influence in a particular work of art, and lead to questions as to the impact of patronage as a whole on the art created during the Renaissance.Considering patronage in a positive—or, at least, an advantageous one—lightis easy and automatic. Patrons poured money into all forms of art; music, literature, painting, sculpture—all flourished under the financial influences of countless patrons, be they wealthy dukes, nuns (King, Medieval 375), the “consorts of rulers” (King, Medieval 376), or famed Florentine bankers. Buildings such as the church of San Lorenzo and convent of San Marco rose under Cosimo de’ Medici (Kent 5), while renowned artisans such as Raphael found commissions in the painted panel Madonna del Baldacchio (Burke 80-81)—now in the Pitti Palace—and for observing the building of St. Peter’s Basilica (Chambers 30). Raphael himself writes of the luxurious income

provided for him by his Vatican patrons:I find myself present with possessions in Rome worth three thousand ducats […] because the Holiness of Our Lord has provided me with three hundred gold ducats […] I shall not lack for as long as I live, and I am sure I shall havemore from others (qtd. in Chambers: 30).Obviously, some artists were not lacking fiscally thanks to their patrons. And in some cases, it was actually the patron themselves that found greater difficulties in the patron-artist relationship than did the artist.A series of letters between Isabella d’Este and Giovanni Bellini reveal a five-year quest by d’Este to have Bellini create her an allegorical painting to then be hung beside that of Bellini’s brother-in-law. The painting was changed from an allegorical painting to a nativity scene as per Bellini’s reluctance to paint an allegory, and thereafter, following a suggestion of Bellini’s that St. John the Baptist would look out of place in a nativity scene—as d’Este wished—the painting finally settled on a picture of John the Baptist with Mary, “the infant Christ” (qtd. in Chambers: 129), and another saint. More than three years after the subject of the painting had been settled, d’Este was finally delivered her much-changed painting, and while Bellini’s pay for the commission had been much reduced, this one example illustrates that the patron was not always the one in charge.Another example of this seemingly atypical dynamic can briefly be read in a letter by Filippo Lippi to a private Florentine patron; Lippi had been paid to decorate a family chapel, but wrote to the man in 1489, essentially abandoning the project for three years in favor of a much more profitable commission in Rome (Chambers 14). While it can be argued that Bellini was able to have more flexibility with his patronage under d’Este, a woman—it was difficult for a woman to sue an artist for defaulting on a commission, if a particular woman even had the freedom to commission an artist at all (King, Renaissance Women 79)—the presence of other examples of artists having an upper hand in the process of a patron-paid art piece demonstrates that not every artist, at least, was subject to their patron. What is more, some artists spoke very plainly to even the patrons they actually completed work for; Paul McClean cites several examples of the informal address and language used between artists and their patrons, sometimes even speaking more familiarly with the de’ Medici themselves (73).When considering a patron’s overall role in helping to create the myriad of Renaissance art, there are also more concrete, visual means to judge them as largely a minor background influence. While the patron may occasionally appear in the art itself—either as a self-portrait, such as in Lippi’s Double Portrait of Piero del Pugliese and Filippino Lippi (Burke 86), or cast in the role of a saint, as seen in Piero di Cosimo’s Virgin and Child with Saint Nicholas, John the Baptist, Peter, and Dominic and Adoration of the Magi, where the Medici appear as the magi in this altarpiece by Botticelli (Burke 112)—by and

large, the patrons behind the countless works of Renaissance art go largely unknown. The artists themselves, of course, usually seal their work with a signature, sometimes cleverly hidden within the painting itself, as seen in Lotto’s Christ’s Farewell to His Mother (Matthew 616) and Savoldo’s Man With Flute (Matthew 637), and sometimes struck boldly across the work itself—a common practice amongst sculptors and seen in works like Michelangelo’s celebrated Pietà (The Agony and the Ecstasy). And an artist’s claim over their works did not end at their signature; whereas it is often common and easily gained knowledge as to the artist of a particular work of the Renaissance, Renaissance patrons are not only infrequently credited (as one might say is understandable), but they are also often difficult to trace; rarely is it easy to link a patron to any particular art pieces they may have purchased (Gilbert 393).Taking all this into consideration—from the wealth lavished on some artists, to the freedoms others exhibited in choosing their commissions and how they approached them, to the artist’s prominent placement in their art versus the almost non-existence acknowledgement to the patron’s benefaction—of the two most obvious sides as to the question over a patron’s influence in the art of the Renaissance, this one is clear: the patrons purchased the art. Nothing more, nothing less. The patrons may have tried tothrow their weight around, and occasionally succeed, but in the end, the master, and only master, behind their works of art.In contrast to the multiple arguments for the Renaissance artist’s freedom in their patron-artist relationship, there are equally many arguments to support the idea that patrons had a much heavier hand in Renaissance art, and by reflecting on the powers a patron could wield, the question as to who the realmind behind some of the great works of the Renaissance surfaces. As the Renaissance patron was often more learned than the typical artist, even as artist’s position in society of the time rose, led them more easily able to dictate religious and symbolic art, and with the money and, often, power to back up their visions, its little wonder that patrons can be seen holding muchof the power in the relationship between themselves and their artists.As mentioned previously, the exact details of the relationship between artist and patron varied from person to person, and indeed, “from commission to commission” (McGrath 298), though concurrent with every patron was the fact that they had some particular demand, opinion, or detail they wanted done—meaning, from the start, the artwork would (if kept to what the patron requested) be fully the original work of the artist. Some patrons—Isabella d’Este being a noteworthy example—were more detailed in their descriptionsof precisely what they wanted; d’Este often goes on to elaborate on clothing (Chambers 150), character and age (Chambers 147), and even, at times, intoexcruciating, minute detail over each individual character and their meaning and significance, such as seen in her letter to Perugino, discussing The Battle

of Love and Chastity (Chambers 136-137), wherein almost everything d’Este described is what Perugino painted, right down to her description of “And Pallas should seem to have almost vanquished Cupid, having broken his golden arrow and cast his silver bow underfoot” (qtd. in Chambers: 136).Other patrons were not necessarily quite so rigorous in their attention to detail, but that does not mean these artists still did not have their work dictated to them. Creighton E. Gilbert quotes a contract between Stefano di Giovanni and the friars of Saint Francesco (McGrath 298), where Giovanni must paint “those stories and figures as specified to him by the priors and friars” (397), and where Giovanni is “held to and must” (qtd. in Gilbert: 397) paint the stories and figures indicated to him in the precise locations, positions, and appearances the friars specified (McGrath 298). It is supposed that further detailing as to how a commissioned piece should look was sometimes discussed in person rather than written out in contract, apparently if it was an idea more difficult to describe on paper, such as the colors a patron wanted an artist to use (McGrath 299). Patrons would also sometimes make small sketches for the artist, to better convey the patron’s intent, or else the artist would draw either a rough or finished drawings that were submitted for the patron’s review. D’Este included a drawing in her letter to Perugino (Chambers 137), and Ghirlandaio fashioned a monochromatic drawing for his 1485 contract, Adoration of the Magi (McGrath 300).Frequently, a patron would dictate the materials to be used, or—in the case of the list of Pope Nicholas V’s plans for altering the appearance of Rome in order to emphasize Rome’s permanence as the location of the “papal court” (Chambers 18) and the popes’ legacies as the successors to Roman emperors—a series of materials to be used as well as other, more minor commissions; the list touches down on the expenditures allotted for everything up until and including “glass for windows in the palace”, “all sortsof paintings”, and “buying bricks, roof tiles, gutters, painted floor bricks and stone” (qtd. in Chambers: 18-19). Indeed, listing off the materials to be used was one of the most common forms of patronage, alongside that of dictating the subject the artist was to paint (McGrath 298). So, even amongst the patrons more willing to allow the artists free range, there was always at leasta small aspect of the patron’s desires in the artist’s product; the relationship between patron and artist was not a charitable one, nor was it even necessarily a relationship forged for the act of creating art for the sake of theartwork itself. It was a business relationship, and as the one with the money to pay both the artist and for the materials the artist used, the patron, ultimately, remained in control.There are countless examples of patron’s having a hand in the artist’s work, either by helping to create it or to hinder its creation. Girolamo Terzi drew up a multitude of designs for Lorenzo Lotto’s thirty-two colored Old Testament

drawings, while the Bishop of Trent rejected Dosso Dossi’s the Sack of Rome fresco, citing it as expensive and “diplomatically awkward” (Gilbert 433). Sometimes, it was not the patron themselves intervening, but one of their advisors; Dale Kent reacts negatively towards the way “learned advisors” arepresented in the patron-artist relationship (331), but they are none the less afrequently occurring aspect in exchanges between patron and artist. Usually, the advisor would either dictate the wishes of the patron to the artist, or would convey to the patron any opinions or difficulties of the artist. Through their advisors, patrons were able to take part in a piece they were not even around to observe the production of—the advisors interacted with the artist, relaying messages, while the patron went about their daily lives back home. Even from another city or country, patrons still found a way to have some sort of presence in the creation of the artwork they had commissioned.And so, two debates emerge from the study of Renaissance patronage. On the one hand, patrons would sometimes merely provide money and little else; depending on the relationship between artist and patron, the exchange may not have been one of “uncomprehending or hostile strangers” (Kent 331). Artists could be well paid, and with the luxury of income an artist mightbe allowed to be more selective as to the commissions they took, and from which patrons. In this, patrons are generally at a disadvantage, as patrons could deduct from an artist’s pay, and sue if an artist defaulted, patrons generally were left at the whims of whenever the artist chose to begin working on and complete their commissioned piece. By all intents and purposes, more than appearing as a more-or-less even-footed relationship, one could say the patron might be the one most at the disadvantage.In the end, however, patrons had money—and while an artist might abandon a project and patron that did not interest them either financially or thematically, artists would still have to bow to the wishes of the more powerful and wealthy patrons. And the Church, of course, was not a patron many artisans could resist, much as artists like Michelangelo may have tried.Be it for casting the subject in a positive or negative light, the two major sides of the debate surrounding Renaissance patronage is evenly split—the artist had times when they could exercise freedom and follow their own whims, and there were other times when the artist could do nothing but default to the patron. It does seem, however, like there is more validity in theargument of the power a patron wielded—if only because, from the very beginning, a patron would have some part in shaping the piece. The artist may render it, but the patron commissioned it, provided the materials; whether or not they elucidated further their exact imaginings for their commissioned piece, the patron was still the one determining everything from the medium to the artist to, typically, the subject matter.In conclusion, while most patrons have been forgotten in the annals of history, one can not help but look on any piece from that time period and

consider the influence the patron might have had over that piece, how they determined it to be a commissioned work of marble or oil painting or decorations on a ceiling, how that patron chose that particular artist and the artist produced the result modern viewers see today. Whether one believes the patrons to be a hindrance or a help, whether one believes artists to have had a good, productive relationship with their patron or one ever-dominated by the patron’s whims, that question, that wonder, remains, and a modern researcher can not study the relationship of artist and patron—can not learn of the debates surrounding this still-emerging field of study, can not be presented with the tantalizing idea of how much the Renaissance patron did or did not influence the great works we see today—and not be made to consider, when presented with works from that time, just where the mastery of the art of the time lies—what is the artist? What is the patron?

Works CitedThe Agony and the Ecstasy. Dr. Carol Reed. Perf. Charlton Heston, Rex Harrison, and DianeCilento. 20th Century Fox, 1965.Burke, Jill. Changing Patrons: Social Identity and the Visual Arts in Renaissance Florence.Pennsylvania: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2004.Chambers, D.S., ed. Patrons and Artists in the Italian Renaissance. Columbia: University ofSouth Carolina Press, 1971.Gilbert, Creighton E. “What Did the Renaissance Patron Buy?” Renaissance Quarterly 51.2(1998): 392-450.Goffen, Rona. Piety and Patronage in Renaissance Venice: Bellini, Titian, and the Franciscans.New Haven: Yale University Press, 1986.Kent, Dale. Cosimo de’ Medici and the Florentine Renaissance: the Patron’s Oeuvre. NewHaven: Yale University Press, 2000.King, Catherine E. “Medieval and Renaissance Matrons, Italian-Style.” Zeitschrift fürKunstgeschichte 55.3 (1992): 372-393.---. Renaissance Women Patrons. Manchester: Manchester-St. Martin’s, 1998.Matthew, Louisa C. “The Painter’s Presence: Signatures in Venetian Renaissance Pictures.” TheArt Bulletin 80.4 (1998): 616-648.McGrath, Thomas. “Color and the Exchange of Ideas Between Patron and Artist in Renaissance

Italy.” The Art Bulletin 82.2 (2000): 298-308.McLean, Paul D. “A Frame Analysis of Favor Seeking in the Renaissance: Agency, Networks,and Political Culture.” The American Journal of Sociology 104.1 (1998): 51-91.