017

  • School of Athens, after the ca. 1509 fresco in the Vatican Stanze della Segnatura, Rome

  • 18th century
  • After Raphael (Sanzio) (Italian 1483-1520) by Joannes (Giovanni) Volpato (Italian 1735/1740-1803)
  • Engraving
  • 56.7 x 75.0 cm., 22-5/16 x 29-7/16" image
  • Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Edward Hoban, Paul A. Anderson Art History Collection, Augustana College 1997.27.18

Essay by Emil A. Kramer, Associate Professor of Classics

Augustana's image of Raphael's School of Athens is as much a product of eighteenth-century Rome as it is of Raphael's sixteenth-century Rome. What you are looking at is a print made from an eighteenth-century engraving by Giovanni Volpato, who based his engraving on a drawing of Raphael's fresco by Giuseppe Cades, a well known eighteenth-century Italian painter. Prints such as these were common souvenirs for eighteenth-century tourists, and it is likely that our piece started its journey to Augustana in just such a context (Wölfflin 62).

Dominating the fresco from its center, though they stand in the background, are Plato and Aristotle; both are identified by the books they hold: an elder Plato, on the left, holds his dialogue titled Timaeus, while his student Aristotle, on the right, holds a work titled Ethics. With what are these characters so passionately engaged? A simple answer can be given in one word: learning. But, I propose, the sort of learning depicted here is of a specific variety, and that variety of learning in fact explains both the design of the composition as a whole, and also its purpose: my argument is that the artist's design was inspired by Book 7 of Plato's Republic, a book which depicts education as a journey from the shadows of the Cave into the light of the Sun, with the caveat that those who have glimpsed the Sun must return to the Cave to assist those still trapped therein. Raphael's School of Athens is a fine example of mimetic art; that is, art that is meant to engender in its viewers what it depicts. The School of Athens depicts philosophers in intense and serious discussion for the sake of learning. By not naming any of the philosophers in the composition, the artist compels those studying his work to do exactly what those in the fresco are doing: to discuss and debate what, exactly, something is-in other words, to engage in dialectics. So, while it is impossible to identify with certainty all of the philosophers in the School of Athens, the artist wanted us to try. The School of Athens is like Plato's dialogues: it does not answer all of the questions it poses, but it compels us to think, and that is its point.