Christmas is such a wonderful time of the year. (I think that’s from a song…) Commercial enterprises have certainly made the most of it, perhaps one could say, even exploited that “feeling.” But that’s because there really is a specialness to the season, and when I laid eyes on the beautiful Renaissance nativity in Matera, I knew that it had always been the case.
ORIGINS OF THE NATIVITY
What is accepted to be the first pictorial nativity scene dates from the 3rd century and can be found in Rome’s Catacombs of Priscilla. The fresco depicts Mary with Jesus in her arms and a prophet beside her pointing to a star, the symbol of Christ’s coming to earth. In the same underground Early Christian cemetery, there is also an image of the Adoration of the Magi amidst numerous other Old and New Testament representations.
Pictorial Nativity from the 3rd century, Catacombs of Priscilla in Rome (Courtesy KAI40, Wikimedia CC BY-SA 3.0)
The first sculptured nativity is on a Roman tomb from the 4th century. The marble Sarcophagus of Adelphia was discovered in the Catacombs of San Giovanni in Siracusa, and today can be found in the city’s archeological museum. Amongst the images from both the Old and New Testaments, the section on the upper right shows the three kings following the star, an ox and donkey, Jesus in the manger, a shepherd and Mary. At the bottom in the center under the portrait of the couple, presumed to be Adelphia, a noble Roman, and her husband, the carving portrays the Magi bringing gifts to Baby Jesus on Mary’s lap.
Sarcophagus of Adelphia, 4th century Roman marble tomb with nativity images (courtesy Davide Mauro, Wikimedia CC BY-SA 3.0)
In 1223, St. Francis of Assisi is accredited with staging the first live nativity in the Sanctuary of Greccio, near Rieti in the center of Italy.
Grotto of the first live nativity at the Sanctuary of Greccio, Province of Rieti (Courtesy of Christopher John SSF, Wikimedia CC BY 2.0)
The great masters from Giotto through the Renaissance depicted the nativity in paintings, and three-dimensional representations began to be created for churches in this period, with the practice eventually spreading outside Italian soil. The nativity proliferated in the 1700s, with cities such as Naples, Genoa and Bologna developing their unique traditions and styles. In the 1800s, the practice moved into homes. Today, there’s no limit to the creativity and individuality of the nativity scene. Yet we still hearken back. Beautiful examples of antique Neapolitan nativity scenes even grace our American museums during Christmastime, such as the elaborate Baroque tableau that attracts visitors every year to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.
One of the many beautiful 18th-century Neapolitan nativity figures at the Metropolitan Museum of Art
RENAISSANCE NATIVITY SCENES IN BASILICATA AND PUGLIA
Gazing on older representations of the nativity puts you in the shoes of the people of the time. The Basilicata region, nestled between Campania, Puglia and Calabria in the instep of the Italian boot, boasts two beautiful crèches carved from stone by Renaissance sculptor Altobello Persio (1507 – 1593), who hailed from Montescaglioso, just south of Matera on the border with Puglia. Persio began sculpting for the abbey in his hometown and subsequent works can be found throughout Basilicata, most notably in Ferrandina, Lagonegro, Matera, Miglionico, Oppido Lucano and Tursi.
Persio is said to have taken inspiration from Stefano da Putignano (1470-1539), a sculptor and architect from Putignano, very close by in Puglia, and whose work is found in churches in both regions. This is his presepe (nativity scene) in painted, local stone from 1530, created for Carmine Church in Grottaglie, Province of Taranto in Puglia.
Nativity by Stefano da Putignano in Grottaglie (courtesy Gianluca Ferrulli, Wikimedia CC BY-SA 4.0)
RENAISSANCE NATIVITY IN TURSI, BASILICATA
Viewed in their entirety, these large tableaus make quite an impression, but perhaps more so upon closer inspection. In the recently renovated Cattedrale dell’Annunziata in Tursi, a town in the Province of Matera, the nativity scene won’t jump out at you, as you need to go down to the crypt level to see it. And back in a dusty corner, there’s this little gem, sculpted in 1550 by Altobello Persio.
Nativity scene in Tursi’s cathedral
Ironically, this beautiful crèche in Tursi is in the old historic center, referred to as Rabatana, from the Arabic signifying a fortified village. Traces of the Saracens’ architecture and language are still present in Tursi today, dating back from the period of their dominance in the second half of the 9th century. This medieval nucleus, surrounded dramatically on all sides by plunging cliffs, is largely abandoned, with the present town occupying land a bit more accessible for our modern needs.
RENAISSANCE NATIVITY IN MATERA
In 1534, several years prior to the Tursi nativity, Persio carved a beautiful representation of the first Christmas for the good people of Matera (with the assistance of a Sannazaro di Alessiano about whom very little is known). This remarkable presepe adorns the end of the elongated left arm of the transept in the city’s cathedral, a magnificent structure that dominates Matera’s skyline. An entrance ticket was initiated a few years ago, so the nativity is actually the first thing you see upon entering the sanctuary at the back of the Cattedrale della Madonna della Bruna e di Sant’Eustachio, to use its full name.
Renaissance nativity scene in the Cathedral
As in Tursi, the display features two levels. Prominence is given to the Holy Family with physically larger figures lower down in the line of vision. The crèche’s natural stone grotto lends warmth and peace to the wholesome faces of both humans and animals. A beautiful, serene Mary, a robust baby, and an older, more concentrated Joseph appear unaware of the activity bustling above them, the pursuits of kings and shepherds portrayed on the upper level.
Tableau by Altobello Persio
The donkey and ox are absorbed in the moment. Curiously, the ox is not only a local breed, but the artist used real bovine horn for the tips. Similar detail can be found in the sheep, also local breeds of both long-haired and curly varieties.
RENAISSANCE MUSICIANS IN HISTORIC CRÈCHE
The angel-musicians are eminently fascinating. The tableau is like a dictionary of musical instruments of the time, and the seraphim’s elaborate, pleated clothing, puffed out at the shoulders, lends a courtly elegance to the angelic figures, who have come down from heaven for this most special of serenades.
To Mary’s left, the timeless tambourine is quickly recognizable. The colorfully dressed companion, however, appears to be doing double duty, managing to play a recorder with the left hand, while at the same time, bowing a psaltery with the other. The bow is missing, but the right-hand position is unmistakable. Perhaps even back in the Renaissance, musicians had neck straps to accomplish the quasi-impossible, as holding up that four-stringed psaltery and managing to cover the upper recorder holes when called into play would be a formidable task. Any way you look at it, this is one talented angel.
Angels playing tambourine and bowed psaltry with recorder
The large-winged angel next to Joseph strums a small guitar-like instrument.
Angel playing guitar
In the back of the grotto, there is a lyre player between the donkey and ox,
Angel playing a lyre
as well as angels playing a hurdy-gurdy and viol.
Angels playing a hurdy-gurdy and a viol
On the upper level of the tableau and clearly from a different social class, there is a bagpiper-shepherd with holes in his britches…
Shepherd playing the zampogna or bagpipes
And a bellringer.
Angel bell ringer
And a character who is either enjoying his lunch out of two bowls or engaging with a drum of some sort.
What is this shepherd doing?
NATIVITY IN MATERA
The bucolic image of a flock of sheep with shepherds and dogs dominates the foreground of the upper level. Three kings on horseback parade behind with their golden crowns and gifts. Other details include a camel and an elephant, a noble mansion, and a castle at the very top, perhaps a stylized version of Matera’s Tramontana Castle.
Detail of nativity scene with sheep, dogs, kings and castle
Altobello Persio presents a spectacular slice of 16th-century life in simple, painted stone. At its heart, this Renaissance nativity scene is of the people, portraying devotion and celebration, both earthly and divine, reflecting the time and place.
Interestingly and on a much grander scale, Matera hosts the largest presepe vivente (live nativity) in the world. The Sassi themselves become the backdrop – the perfect, immense grotto setting for the annual event. Inside the cathedral, however, visitors find a more intimate grotto, open year-round, perhaps not the raison d’être for their pilgrimage, but a delightful surprise amongst the city’s many humble jewels from the past.
Buon Natale – Merry Christmas!
See this beautiful Renaissance nativity in Matera on my BASILICATA TOUR!
Read all about the fascinating Basilicata region in my book Basilicata: Authentic Italy, “recommended to readers who appreciate all things Italian” by the Library Journal, and explore Basilicata’s southern neighbor in my book Calabria: The Other Italy, described by Publisher’s Weekly as “an intoxicating blend of humor, joy, and reverence for this area in Italy’s deep south.”
Follow me on social media: Basilicata Facebook page, Calabria: The Other Italy’s Facebook page, Karen’s Instagram and Karen’s Twitter for beautiful pictures and information.
Sign up below to receive the next blog post directly to your email for free.
Comments 6
Thank you so much for these terrific pictures and astute commentary! I love the bagpipe-playing shepherd in particular, with the holes in his knees, but his dog and the ewe nursing her lamb are close seconds. As many of your readers probably know, bagpipes are still played throughout Europe, not just in Scotland and Ireland. As for the double-threat seraph, that kind of recorder has only one set of holes for one hand. In England it was often paired with a little drum, a tabor (a “pipe and tabor”), and played by street musicians who also might dance as well as play. Clearly, it had only a limited range, though I believe a skilled player could probably jump up an octave by adjusting their fingering and embouchure (breath & lips). You can almost hear the music!
Author
As always, thank you for your informative contribution to my blog. Funny thing that in the US, we tend to associate bagpipes principally with Scotland. In Southern Italy, they appear at the drop of a hat for holidays and festivities. I do think, though, that the artist was a bit overenthusiastic with the recorder’s finger holes, as it appears he has chiseled six on the front of this instrument.
What an informative and lovely post!
Thank you for sharing –
Happy Holidays!
Author
Buone feste!
I always learn so much history from your posts! Wishing you a marvelous 2024.
Author
And also to you!