tiles. There was a chapel beyond, dedicated to St John the Almsgiver. Raikes stood at the entrance and peered in. The light was not good here, but almost at once he saw the two broad cupboards against the wall. Surmounting them and on the floor around was a miscellaneous debris of cardboard boxes and files. Finding the sacristy too crowded, the sacristan had lugged the things in here. No wonder he had cursed. As Raikes had hoped, he had not bothered, after such exertions, to lock the papers up again. Presumably he would, before long. Clearly, speed was of the essence. However, there was nothing to be done for the time being.
Turning to retrace his steps he was disagreeably surprised to find the sacristan watching him, standing where he himself had stood before, beside the marble Pietà. Raikes nodded and said buon giorno , and with some confused idea of giving his activities a more natural look he stopped to talk again to Signor Benedetti on the way out. The architect was voluble and Raikes had difficulty in following the rapid Italian. It seemed that the task of re-laying the floor had been complicated by the discovery of an earlier floor in red and yellow terracotta, destroyed some time in the nineteenth century to make way for the marble slabs. There were of course, Benedetti explained, remains of still earlier floors, one of Venetian terrazza, crushed stone laid in concrete. Three floors at least, then, and the whole mass sinking as the tides go on scooping underneath. They would have to lay gravel down to a depth of some forty-five centimetres, to try to distribute the water evenly. It was going to be a long job, Benedetti said, smiling cheerfully.
The sacristan was now nowhere to be seen. Presumably he had returned to his post near the chancel. Raikes returned Benedetti’s smile, wished him buon lavoro and made his way out of the church.
It was not until early that evening that the obvious solution came to him. He had got back to the apartment fairly early and almost at once started on the day’s diary entry. Sitting at his table near the window, he wrote eagerly:
The Madonna has had nearly three days’ spraying now – something like twenty hours of it. A very fine jet was used, and warm water – not too hot, about 25 degrees. Of course this must not be mixed with soap or detergents of any kind, the calcium carbonate would combine with it and you would get a water-resistant coating on the stone which would simply attract more dirt. Like covering the whole surface of the statue with fly-paper.
Some particles of carbon came away, but the general appearance remains unchanged. It is unlikely that the spraying will do much to remove the corrosion – I never expected it to. The purpose is to soften the encrusted area, making things easier when it comes to the actual abrasion of the surface. I intend to make a start on this as soon as she is dried out. In fact I am aiming to begin on March 25th, the day after tomorrow. This is the date of the Feast of the Annunciation, so it seems appropriate – perhaps it will be a good augury. Just at present working hours are curtailed by loss of light in the early evening, a situation which has been made rather worse by the enclosure of plastic sheeting Signor Biagi installed for me – he is proving most co-operative. I am going to ask him if he can provide me with a good strong light to work by – perhaps he can take a cable up there.
I was thinking again about what Steadman said about the artist. There is no reason to think he came from Lombardy except that there was an influx of Lombard artists in the early part of the fifteenth century. He could just as easily be a native Venetian who had spent periods of his life elsewhere. He was influenced by International Gothic, that is certain, not so much in the draperies but in the setting of the Madonna’s hair and the headdress. Perhaps he worked in Milan at some time, on the Cathedral.
Raikes paused. He felt physically tired
Turning to retrace his steps he was disagreeably surprised to find the sacristan watching him, standing where he himself had stood before, beside the marble Pietà. Raikes nodded and said buon giorno , and with some confused idea of giving his activities a more natural look he stopped to talk again to Signor Benedetti on the way out. The architect was voluble and Raikes had difficulty in following the rapid Italian. It seemed that the task of re-laying the floor had been complicated by the discovery of an earlier floor in red and yellow terracotta, destroyed some time in the nineteenth century to make way for the marble slabs. There were of course, Benedetti explained, remains of still earlier floors, one of Venetian terrazza, crushed stone laid in concrete. Three floors at least, then, and the whole mass sinking as the tides go on scooping underneath. They would have to lay gravel down to a depth of some forty-five centimetres, to try to distribute the water evenly. It was going to be a long job, Benedetti said, smiling cheerfully.
The sacristan was now nowhere to be seen. Presumably he had returned to his post near the chancel. Raikes returned Benedetti’s smile, wished him buon lavoro and made his way out of the church.
It was not until early that evening that the obvious solution came to him. He had got back to the apartment fairly early and almost at once started on the day’s diary entry. Sitting at his table near the window, he wrote eagerly:
The Madonna has had nearly three days’ spraying now – something like twenty hours of it. A very fine jet was used, and warm water – not too hot, about 25 degrees. Of course this must not be mixed with soap or detergents of any kind, the calcium carbonate would combine with it and you would get a water-resistant coating on the stone which would simply attract more dirt. Like covering the whole surface of the statue with fly-paper.
Some particles of carbon came away, but the general appearance remains unchanged. It is unlikely that the spraying will do much to remove the corrosion – I never expected it to. The purpose is to soften the encrusted area, making things easier when it comes to the actual abrasion of the surface. I intend to make a start on this as soon as she is dried out. In fact I am aiming to begin on March 25th, the day after tomorrow. This is the date of the Feast of the Annunciation, so it seems appropriate – perhaps it will be a good augury. Just at present working hours are curtailed by loss of light in the early evening, a situation which has been made rather worse by the enclosure of plastic sheeting Signor Biagi installed for me – he is proving most co-operative. I am going to ask him if he can provide me with a good strong light to work by – perhaps he can take a cable up there.
I was thinking again about what Steadman said about the artist. There is no reason to think he came from Lombardy except that there was an influx of Lombard artists in the early part of the fifteenth century. He could just as easily be a native Venetian who had spent periods of his life elsewhere. He was influenced by International Gothic, that is certain, not so much in the draperies but in the setting of the Madonna’s hair and the headdress. Perhaps he worked in Milan at some time, on the Cathedral.
Raikes paused. He felt physically tired
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