GABRIELE REINA AND THE ART OF HERALDRY
Gabriele Reina, SHA
I began drawing my first coats of arms at the age of five, influenced by reading and admiring Walter Scott’s books and their illustrations.
I was personally fortunate to study painting from that age with a great master, born way back in 1907. He taught me all the secrets of landscape and portrait painting, as was customary in the 19th century. For this reason, I try to combine all the techniques of great painting with heraldry, perhaps seeking new paths and new perspectives each time.
From an early age, however, I understood that learning to draw well is extremely difficult, because it requires great perseverance, dedication, and enormous commitment. It is like tending a vineyard; it must be cared for every day. Only by working, drawing continuously, practicing every day can the artist refine his eye, that essential sense which allows one to understand where and how a line should be drawn. I therefore have the artisanal concept of painting of the Italian Renaissance, when technical expertise was acquired through serious, loving, and tenacious application. Painting is first and foremost a craft: applying the rules learned from the Masters, trying again and again, improving through constant practice. As for finding genius, breathing life into the drawing on canvas, that’s another matter entirely.
I believe heraldry has an artistic dignity of its own. It often combines graphic perfection with the aesthetic enchantment of great painting. I am even convinced that if Picasso, Modigliani, and de Lempicka had known this art – perhaps too sophisticated (for the common man) and truly conceptual – we might have witnessed the blossoming of a new artistic movement, probably defined as “emblemism” rather than “heraldism.”
I tend to paint coats of arms almost exclusively for myself; I rarely receive commissions (I am more likely to be asked for portraits).
The coats of arms I paint are for me like registers of memories; that is, they summarize a monument I have visited, an episode or a historical figure I admire or care about; they symbolize a journey, celebrate a friend, or a discovery. So for me, drawing is a tool for knowledge.
My heraldic paintings, for example, are born in this way.
Some months ago, I rode my bicycle from my home on Lake Maggiore to Issogne Castle (about 120 km away) in the Aosta Valley. This castle was one of the residences of the famous Challant family, extinct for many centuries, the most important in the Aosta Valley. I was amazed by the frescoes in their castle and other romantic ruins of the Challants scattered throughout the valley, and in my travel sketchbooks I drew sketches and wrote historical notes. These sketchbooks are the basis of my paintings, and currently there are perhaps two hundred and fifty of them, containing perhaps twenty thousand drawings. Once at home, in the silence of my home, I delved into the history of the Challants through books and – again, for myself – I painted several large coats of arms that symbolized their history and, so to speak, summed up my emotions. I then began restoring a large chest, which I scraped, cleaned, sanded, then primed with rabbit skin glue and Bologna chalk, and then decorated in oil with the coats of arms of the Challants and their allied families. It took almost three months of work, and then it was requested by museums – but I will never sell it. Then I continued by painting a large damask standard with the Challant coat of arms, measuring 160 x 120 meters, and finally I painted a matching view of Issogne Castle.
So to paint a coat of arms, I must have a strong empathy for the subject.
For me, drawing has thus become a tool of knowledge.
As I was saying, I almost always paint coats of arms for myself. In this way, however, over the years, these works of mine have filled my old home, which is a monastery on Lake Maggiore, not far from the Borromean Islands.
I want to clarify that my works are not miniatures, but actual paintings. There will be approximately 1,200 hanging on the walls or suspended from the vault of the immense dining room. Many consider it the largest private heraldic collection in the world.
For this reason, it is considered a house-museum of heraldry, and people often ring the doorbell to visit.
My main technique is oil on canvas, but I also master tempera on panel, oil on damask, slate, and alabaster. I am also skilled with miniatures painted on parchment, gouache, watercolour, and glass painting. There are also large majolica plates painted by me with heraldic subjects, or coffered ceilings decorated with fabulous heraldic figures that combine aesthetic enchantment with graphic perfection.
So the walls of my house are literally filled with the coats of arms of families from all over Europe, from Russia to Portugal, from Scotland to Constantinople.
Personally, I love the genre of heraldic painting with light and shadow effects, with a volumetric rendering of space, and where a certain level of artistic skill stands out as much as possible. I dislike flat, depthless, and simple drawings that look like comics, but that is just my personal opinion, of course.
As a painter, the most important thing is that I look for the same love in my colleagues’ paintings that I try to pour into my own.
This is part of the Renaissance teachings that were instilled in me from childhood.
For this reason, I always look for the best in my fellow painters’ paintings and try to make this feeling useful for my own growth. I will always be as enthusiastic about the success of my fellow painters as I am about my own.
To grow artistically, it is very important to always maintain an open attitude toward another person’s point of view, holding firm to what I believe to be truthful and honest in art.