Parma lies on a tributary of the Po River in the fertile Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, famed for its Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, prosciutto di Parma, and variety of handmade semolina wheat pastas. This is also the place to see the sculpture and paintings of two artists separated by over three centuries, but linked in both having executed the major works of their careers in this small city: Benedetto Antelami, a late twelfth-century sculptor, and Correggio, a sixteenth-century painter.

 

 

It is somewhat rare before the Renaissance period for an artist to sign his works. Instead, most labored in a craftsman's humble anonymity. But Antelami proudly carved his name on his religious sculpture in Parma, as above the north entrance of the Baptistery. He is thus one of the few sculptors of the medieval period for which we have a name, but unfortunately nothing else of his biography is known. His art has a doll-like innocence and sincerity that contrasts entirely with the paintings of the sensualist Correggio. Whereas Antelami's figures are thick and planted heavily on this earth, Correggio's are soft of flesh and float in ecstacy in the domes of the Duomo and church of San Giovanni Evangelista.

The Baptistery stands to one side of the Duomo, an octagonal confection of white and rose-colored marbles. The main entrance is carved with a scene of the Madonna and Child, flanked by the three Magi and the Archangel Gabriel bringing news of the birth to Joseph. It may surprise the traveler that the figures are painted, as we are more accustomed to the purity of unpigmented Greek and Roman statuary. But in fact, ancient sculpture was painted -- it's just that usually, after thousands of years, the paint has been lost. If you look in the arch curving just above the Virgin's head you will see Antelami's inscription, which declares that in the year 1200 minus four (1196), Benedetto the sculptor began this work. He was the master in charge of a band of stone carvers, and was likely the architect of the Baptistery as well.

Proceeding inside, Antelami's art decorates the semi-circular lunettes just above the level of the column capitals. Particularly lovely are the scenes of The Return from Egypt (northern lunette), The Presentation of Christ in the Temple (southern lunette), and King David Playing the Psalter with Musicians and Dancers (western lunette). Looking up one level higher, you will see the most endearing of Antelami's sculpture, a series depicting the Labors of the Months. This is a standard program in medieval church decoration in France , Italy and Spain , usually carved in low relief around an entrance portal. Here, however, Antelami has “blown up” the figures to virtually three-dimensions.

The year begins at the left with March, who blows a horn symbolic of the winds of that month. April is a king who holds a scepter of flowers, and May a figure on horseback about to cut food for his hungry animal. Spring follows, a young girl crowned with a wreath of flowers. The summer months in Italy bring labor in the fields, and this sweaty work is shown being done by barefoot peasants. The figure of June cuts sheaves of wheat, while July threshes the bounty. August make a wooden barrel to hold autumn's vintage. Next comes the figure of Winter (the seasons of Autumn and Summer were apparently never executed), now an old bleak man. September picks grapes, October sows seeds, November picks turnips, December prunes. January is shown as the two-headed figure of the Roman god Janus, and finally February digs into the cold, hard earth. Below the figures of the months, inset into the wall, are the signs of the zodiac.