loosely based on one of Michelangelo’s ¿ gures on the Sistine ceiling, which
was then being painted next door to the rooms being decorated by Raphael.
There are more such portraits, but the center of the fresco is occupied by
two powerfully conceived men who walk toward us, framed by the receding
arches of the architecture. On the left is Plato, who is depicted with the
features of Leonardo da Vinci. On the right is Plato’s pupil Aristotle. Aristotle
points to the Earth, the source of his rational observations, while Plato points
to the heavens, the object of his metaphysical speculations. The receding
lines of the architectural perspective grid cross in an X-shaped design that
both unites and separates these two seminal philosophers. Perspective is
wedded to meaning and signi¿ cance by the artist.
When Raphael had ¿ nished the Stanza della Segnatura, with the aid of many
assistants, he moved on to the Room of Heliodorus (the Stanza d’Eliodoro).
Here he painted the Expulsion of Heliodorus (c. 1511–1512). Pope Julius
II is carried into the biblical scene on the left. The tale of Heliodorus, the
treasurer of King Antiochus who was sent to appropriate the temple treasure,
is related in the second book of Maccabees, an apocryphal book of the
Old Testament.
Raphael had designed the structure of the School of Athens to epitomize
rational control, an ordered composition centered on a pair of intellectual
giants from the Classical world. The structure of the Expulsion of Heliodorus
is an asymmetrical composition disrupted by a rush away from the center, a
design that threatens reason and order. An armed man on horseback appears,
accompanied by two avenging ¿ gures with scourges, and they ride down
Heliodorus and his soldiers as they try to leave with the temple treasure. The
treasure has been spilled beside Heliodorus. The cause of this miraculous
salvation was the prayer of the high priest, who kneels at an altar in the center
of the background. The center becomes a vacuum, while the violent assault at
the right attracts the viewer’s attention. This is not a modern observation; it
was shared by Vasari, a 16th-century artist and biographer, writing soon after
Raphael painted the fresco. Vasari focused on the group at the right, pointing
out that only Heliodorus could see the heavenly visitation that attacked him.