Around 1440, a Florentine sculptor named Luca della Robbia found a new use for clay. Until then, clay was for pots and rough trial versions. Serious sculpture meant stone or bronze. Luca coated his clay in a shiny glaze, white figures on blue, and made it fine art. His nephew then did it better. The nephew's son added color. A small show at the Met, just 16 objects, tells the family story.
The Journal's Arts in Review editor, Eric Gibson, calls Rediscovering Della Robbia at the Met a gem of a show. No U.S. museum holds more Della Robbias than the Met, which has around 30. A recent gift set the show in motion. Dick Wolf, the producer behind Law & Order, gave the museum Giovanni della Robbia's Mystic Mandorla (c. 1515). In it, four angels carry an almond-shaped frame up into a cloudy blue sky. Visitors can also see conservation work in progress on The Marquand Altarpiece (c. 1485). It's roughly 10 feet by 7 feet, pieced together from 66 parts, each shaped and fired on its own.
In his own time, people ranked Luca with Donatello. His Madonna and Child with a Scroll (c. 1455) makes clay pass for soft skin and flowing cloth. Still, Gibson says the nephew, Andrea, outdid his teacher. Andrea's Lehman Madonna (c. 1470-75) is a relief, white figures on blue. His blue is so pure and deep that it seems to build the figures. His surfaces are smoother and more lifelike than Luca's. In his hands, a paper-thin strip of clay becomes a hem that seems to flutter.
Each generation enlarged it
For Gibson, the dynasty's greatness shows in how each new generation stretched the family style. Giovanni stretched it furthest. He dropped the two colors and filled his work with lime green, chrome yellow, ultramarine and sienna brown. Even the angels' wings have stripes. Where his elders were solemn, he's lively and bold. Three generations of innovative masters in one family, Gibson writes, was “nothing short of extraordinary,” even in Florence. The show runs at the Met Fifth Avenue through Jan. 17, 2028.
Our read
This is an Estate story, and a Career one. A Renaissance workshop was also a family business, and this one passed down twice and kept getting better. That's rare. An old saying holds that the first generation builds a business, the second runs it and the third loses it. The della Robbias beat that pattern. The review doesn't say how. The art hints at one reason. Each heir took the family technique and changed it. Andrea made the surfaces smoother. Giovanni threw out the two-color rule. Each one had room to make the work his own, and that may be rarer than talent.
If you own a family business, this touches your succession plan. If it lives only in your head, that's the first gap. This week, pull out your buy-sell agreement, the contract that says who takes over an owner's share. Check that it names the buyer, sets how the price is figured and says where the money comes from. Then ask whether your heir will get real say while you're still around to teach. A plan that only preserves the founder's way is Luca's white and blue forever. You find the umbrella before the sky turns, and you name the successor while you can still teach them the glaze. Bring the agreement to a review if you'd like a second read.