Upper Part of a Tabernacle for the Holy Sacrament 1461 - 1463

Curator: Standing before us is the "Upper Part of a Tabernacle for the Holy Sacrament" sculpted from marble between 1461 and 1463 by Isaia da Pisa. What’s your first take? Editor: Well, it has a strangely serene yet solemn mood about it. Those angels feel almost weightless, despite being carved from stone. Is it complete, though? Curator: Good question. No, this is only the upper part, once attached to a lower section in a church, designed to house the consecrated bread and wine. Pisa was quite prolific at the time creating various ecclesiastical ornamentations. Editor: It’s striking how the marble lends itself to the delicate drapery of their robes and the soft texture of their wings. But something about the composition feels, I don’t know, staged? Curator: I can see what you mean. Pisa was very much immersed in Early Renaissance classicism, you know, playing with form and idealism of line. So those rather graceful figures, rendered in high relief, give that impression of being very self-aware, almost conscious of the viewer. Editor: And the space? Or rather, lack thereof? The angels are almost pressed together, emphasizing a verticality and creating this, yes, rather compressed scene with so little depth between them. That doorway adds such visual gravity, creating a moment for holy interaction. It certainly changes your perspective on devotion. Curator: Interesting, very astute. Their proximity and expression do create an immersive sense of reverence. What also fascinates me is the fracture right through the door pediment and central figures: you can almost feel time itself has weighed down on the work itself as a witness. Editor: It’s interesting, that the damage almost enhances its spiritual resonance; it gives it a certain gravitas it might otherwise lack. Looking closer, their individual features have been exquisitely and deliberately realized, and there’s so much to read here. The artist's touch is palpable. I feel as if I've just walked into an eternal vigil. Curator: Beautifully said! It’s as though their silent watch has transcended mere materiality, revealing a space that invites contemplation across the ages.