Masaccio, Pisanello, Kitaj

National Gallery, London, through January 13, 2002

The National Gallery, London, has yet again pulled off a remarkable coup, juxtaposing briefly, the Masaccio altarpiece, (until 11 November, see capsules, September) with a superb exhibition of the work of the painter Pisanello (c. 1395–1455). Pisanello, or Antonio di Pucci, (his real name) inhabited the sublime yet troubled society between the overlapping folds of the Gothic later Middle Ages, and the early Renaissance in Italy. This represents, as so always at the National Gallery, a carefully planned scholarly revision. Only four paintings by Pisanello actually remain today, and the National Gallery holds two of these. All four paintings are brought together in this exhibition, together with some 33 drawings loaned by the Louvre. Notably on display are a number of the early Renaissance portrait medallions, which Pisanello largely developed as a form of representation to meet the secular needs of this feudal society as it emerged into the more urbane Renaissance culture.

So it is indeed fortunate that, at the National Gallery, one can for a brief interval both see and compare the works of two masters – both from the same city of Pisa and both more or less contemporaneous. Masaccio’s altarpiece is dated 1426. But there is little more to find in common between the two. Pisanello still occupies a world of nature’s imagery – animals, wild flowers and with that the symbolic representation these facilitated during the mediaeval period. Masaccio has, by contrast, already embraced the new humanist manifestos of the Renaissance. Flowers were to be taken apart, bodies dissected, ruins deconstructed and then re-assembled with the enlightenment of new perspective techniques. But Pisanello had studied antiquity too.

Of the Louvre drawings, many seem to be sketched, and others seem to be preparatory to more formal representation, as in his most celebrated painting, The Vision of St Eustace. St Eustace is a knight on horseback, seen penetrating a dark wood to the apparent welcome of wild creatures. However, in the middle ground, a stag blocks his path ahead, standing erect with a crucifix figure, between his antlers, impeccably scaled down. All around are the painted flowers of the forest. The air is heady with symbolism. Over nearly six centuries, the tone of the wood has darkened, creating an even greater sense of mystery.

As the director, Neil MacGregor can claim, ‘Pisanello’s true subjects are … the glamour of aristocratic ideals, the heady beauty and variety of nature, and above all the enchantment of dreams’. Not the ‘heroic dramas of human and divine history’. These we will recognise, for subsequent ages, as our own. As if by reference to this age, and its tribulations, the National Gallery opens an exhibition of current works by the American artist Ron Kitaj on 6 November. This will be reviewed here during November. It should be said that this exhibition par excellence will bring to an end what has been a superb and memorable year at the National Gallery.