15/08/2026
Have you ever seen a Madonna this tender, resting her head on her son's shoulder?
It is rare to find a Virgin so human in this gesture of total surrender to Christ, reunited with him after the Assumption. I looked for it for a long time, ever since I spotted a panel in Montefalco announcing it, only to find it is no longer in Italy: it left the country after 1863, when the Monastero della Stella in Spoleto was expropriated, the Augustinian convent for which the Master of Cesi painted it in the late thirteenth century. This year I finally saw it again in Umbria, at the Giotto and the Trecento show at the Galleria Nazionale in Perugia: finding it in the first room, next to Giotto, made me forget for a moment the Florentine loans.
My clients - I who talk so much about art with them and so little about food and wine - often ask which work is my favourite. How do you explain to someone from the other side of the world an anonymous painter, Roman by birth, swept up in the building site of Assisi, the first "school of the world", where he looks at Cimabue but draws his strength from the humanity of Giotto?
That reclining head is not just an intimate pause: it hides a fascinating theological and literary meaning. The embrace runs from the shoulders down to the feet, turning the Assumption into a royal wedding. Marilyn Aronberg Lavin has even read sexual overtones in it, such as Mary's leg crossed over Christ's left thigh, a gesture that in an Austrian model book of 1213-1218 already stands for fruitful union in Christian marriage. A mystical and spousal union too, whose archetype Millard Meiss traces to the mosaic of Santa Maria in Trastevere (1240-43). And Mary's forehead against Christ's cheek echoes the Song of Songs: "Who is this coming up from the desert, leaning on her beloved?"
An archaic language opening up to the new, in that intensity of the faces Longhi called the "Passion of the Umbrians". The same gesture can still be glimpsed, badly damaged, in Cimabue's apse at Assisi, its illustrious precedent.
Today the work is at the Villa Île-de-France, once Villa Ephrussi, in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, where it was known as the "Door of Siena". Do you know why?