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Negroli, Burgonet

Met curator Stuart Pyhrr on virtuoso craftsmanship in Filippo Negroli’s Burgonet, 1543.

This masterpiece of Renaissance metalwork is signed on the browplate by Filippo Negroli, whose embossed armor was praised by sixteenth-century writers as "miraculous" and deserving "immortal merit." Formed of one plate of steel and patinated to look like bronze, the bowl is raised in high relief with motifs inspired by classical art. The graceful mermaidlike siren forming the helmet's comb holds a grimacing head of Medusa by the hair. The sides of the helmet are covered with acanthus scrolls inhabited by putti, a motif ultimately derived from ancient Roman sculpture and wall paintings.

View this work on metmuseum.org.

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Video transcript

The Negroli helmet is an object that appeals on so many different levels. Presumably this was specially made for a man of power, entering a city as a conqueror for example. But it was ultimately a piece of intimate examination. You have to imagine Renaissance courtiers discussing these pieces. They understood the nature of armor and they appreciated the quality. This is of course a piece apart. The helmet is made of a single plate of medium carbon steel. And the relief is so dense that the steel body of the helmet virtually disappears. You have a sense of an independent sculpture. Formed by hammering--first from the inside, pushing the metal outward--then turning the helmet round and working on the exterior surface with chisels and fine punches. The design is of classical inspiration. The siren’s tail descends to the back of the helmet, splits into two and curls up on each side into a very thick acanthus scroll with tendrils and leaves swirling around and intertwining. But it ends in a flower, out of which pops a little winged cherub. There’s a harmony to the design, an interconnection. Even the mask at the very back, it seems to emerge out of the acanthus of the tail: a grotesque face that sticks its tongue out at you. A parting shot, so to speak, and it softens the whole effect. The Negroli helmet is for me emblematic of objects that transcend their initial use to become symbols the culture from which they come, at the same time virtuoso demonstrations of the skill of the armorer, the originality of his design; and his ability to translate, in this case, classical motifs, into a work of decidedly sixteenth-century taste. Filippo was so bold as to put his name across the brow: an audacious assertion of authorship. We have to imagine that the owner accepted Filipo as an artist of stature and of virtuoso craftsmanship.