sions, a now lost Maestà painted twenty-two years later
for the Palazzo Pubblico in Siena.) Subsequently, fi nes
were imposed on Duccio for refusing to join a citizens’
militia raised to do battle in the Maremma, for being
absent from meetings of the town council, for refusing
to swear an oath to the ruling podestà, and possibly for
practicing witchcraft, since one fi ne originated from the
offi ce that was in charge of controlling sorcery. Still,
these charges cannot have been taken too seriously, for
Duccio continued to be employed by the state and ulti-
mately received the most exalted commission the city
could confer on an artist—an enormous Maestà for the
high altar of the cathedral (duomo) of Siena.
Only two of Duccio’s documented works survive, but
fortunately they are two of the most important. The fi rst
is the Rucellai Madonna and Child Enthroned, commis-
sioned in 1285 by the Confraternity of the Compagnia
dei Laudesi for its chapel in Santa Maria Novella in
Florence. (This work was transferred to the Rucellai
Chapel in the 1500s, and after 1937 it was removed to
the Uffi zi in Florence.) The other is the Maestà for the
cathedral of Siena, commissioned by the administrator
of the cathedral in October 1308 and brought to the high
altar there in June 1311. (Today most of the Maestà is in
the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena; but fragments
are scattered in many other collections worldwide).
Separated by some twenty-six years, these two works
set the standard for any additional attributions to Duccio
and give a clear idea of his stylistic development.
Because his biccherna covers are lost, Duccio’s ar-
tistic training and activity before the Rucellai Madonna
are shrouded in mystery. The very fact that early in his
career Duccio received such an important commission
for a monumental and luxurious altarpiece in one of the
largest churches in Florence—which was then Siena’s
archrival—has led to speculation. Some scholars suggest
that the Florentines, who were jealously protective of
their own civic accomplishments, would commission
only artists with connections to Florence, and therefore
that Duccio must at one time been have been a pupil of
or collaborator with the Florentine artist Cimabue. This
hypothesis is strengthened by the fact that until the twen-
tieth century the Rucellai Madonna was believed to have
been painted by Cimabue. However, the one surviving
work by Duccio that critics are unanimous in placing
before the Rucellai Madonna, the Crevole Madonna
(Siena, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, possibly 1280),
shows little relationship to Cimabue, at a time when
any such resemblance should have been strongest had
Duccio truly been apprenticed to Cimabue. The Crevole
Madonna demonstrates Duccio’s familiarity with the
work of later Duecento Sienese artists, such as Guido
da Siena, and his fundamental indebtedness to the art of
Byzantium. The format of the Madonna pointing to the
child as the pathway to salvation and the schematization
of the Madonna’s nose, eyes, and hands are derived from
these sources. But this apparently youthful work already
shows a refi ned, elegant, taut line; polished modeling;
and a warm humanity that herald a fresh interpretation
of an old tradition.
Duccio’s refi nement is seen again in the Rucellai
Madonna, perhaps the most opulent altarpiece of the
Duecento. Since it was recently restored, we can fully
appreciate the splendid effect of the fi elds of ptecious
lapis lazuli blue forming the Virgin’s gown, set like a
gem against a rich variety of tooled gold patterns and
delicate hues forming the throne and the shimmering
cloth of honor behind her. Everything about the panel
conveys ethereal grace and airiness. The gold hem of the
Madonna’s cloak trickles slowly down in a wandering,
sinuous line. Although the angels are kneeling, they
seem weightless, hovering one above another, and grasp-
ing the throne as if they might otherwise fl oat away into
space. The gold itself plays a role in creating this sense
of lightness, for every fi gure and form, including the
throne, is enveloped by gold as if in a bubble. Despite
its celestial airiness, the Rucellai Madonna is full of
details drawn from close analysis of nature. Duccio has
abandoned the schematic pattern of gold striation in the
Madonna’s cloak, which was still in use in Cimabue’s
Santa Trinita Maestà, and has taken great pains to model
the form of her body beneath her cloak. The Christ
child likewise sits believably on the Madonna’s lap and,
while giving his blessing, turns his gaze to something
at the side that has caught his attention. The accordion
folds of the cloth of honor are so carefully modeled that
they truly seem three-dimensional. This is an image of
exquisite, rarefi ed elegance, and it must have perfectly
fulfi lled its function, receiving the hymns of praise sung
to the Madonna by the Laudesi before their altar.
Although documents mention a Maestà, now lost,
painted for the chapel in the Palazzo Pubblico in Siena
in 1302, we have no sure example of Duccio’s activity
after the Rucellai Madonna until we reach his greatest
masterpiece, the Maestà of 1308–1311. Commissioned
for the holiest location in the city, the high altar of the
cathedral of Siena, the Maestà replaced a much vener-
ated image of the Madonna—the Madonna dagli Occhi
Grossi (Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Siena)—that was
believed to have produced the miraculous victory of
the Sienese over the Florentines at the famous battle of
Montaperti in 1260. Such an important location required
a new altarpiece of suitable grandeur; and while it was
still intact the Maestà was the largest and most complex
polyptych up to its day: 15 feet (4.5 meters) high by 16
feet (4.8 meters) long. The Maestà was painted on both
sides, the rear panel providing an extensive series of nar-
ratives for the devotional meditation of the monks seated
in the choir during the mass; the polyptych also had
narratives in a series of predella panels below the centralDUCCIO DI BUONINSEGNA