It may seem odd to think of reading a painting, but,in fact, unlike many modern pieces which are essentially visual "experiences," Renaissance paintings were meant to be read. There is a great deal of information encoded in all aspects of a work and knowing even a small part of what it says can greatly enhance your appreciation.
Domenico Veneziano's masterpiece the St. Lucy Altarpiece is rich in meaning and a good place to begin to learn to read a painting. (Do click on the impossibly tiny image to see a wonderfully enlarged one).This gorgeously colored work is one of the first examples of a sacra conversazione or sacred conversation, a conventional grouping of the Madonna and Infant Christ with saints arranged as if, you guessed it, they were engaged in a conversation. The viewer gazes on the formal arrangement of figures, who are linked with each other like actors on a stage. We are admitted to their presence, but are not invited to join them.
In medieval paintings, altarpieces were most often done in separate panels, known as polyptychs, but in the Renaissance a single panel was the fashion. Veneziano subtly refers to this earlier tradition by painting an arcade that is made up of three pointed Gothic arches like the panels of a triptych. The Madonna and Infant are framed by the central arch, and each pair of saints by one of the side arches.
Although he was probably born in Venice given his name, Veneziano spent nearly all of his life in Florence, and Florence and the Medicis are painted right into this lovely piece. The three main colors in this painting are red (and its offspring, pink), green, and white. Today, of course, these are the colors of the Italian flag, but then they were the colors of the Medici family.
The oranges in the background (in the first set of arches) were also a common emblem of the Medicis, very often found in Florentine paintings. Oranges resemble the golden balls on the Medici coat of arms, and the orange was sometimes known as the malus medicus or "medicinal apple"--making a pun on the family name. (see also The Medici Balls)
The pink, green and white colors of the painting are also the colors of the marble used on the facades of the two central religious buildings in Florence, the Duomo and the Baptistery. Further aspects of the work also point to these famous landmarks. The Duomo is in Gothic style, like the 
arcade where Mary is sitting. The alcove in the painting contains round-topped niches and is a half-octagon, and can be read as a reference to the octagonal Baptistery. This suggests that Veneziano is deliberately putting the work in a Florentine context, and this is further supported by the presence of Florence's two patron saints: John the Baptist on the left and Zenobius, an early bishop of the city on the right.
But who are those other two saints? In a grey, rather than the traditional brown, robe is St. Francis, reading a red book of his writings. Holding the palm of martyrdom in one hand and her attribute (the emblem that identifies a saint), a plate with two eyes, is St. Lucy.
The story of Lucy is that her Roman tutor was obsessed with the beauty of her eyes. Not wishing to lead him into temptation, she plucked them out and sent them to him. This, surprisingly, inspired him to become a Christian. Later, she was martyred for her faith. Notice how very white her skin is. That's because her name means "light." We also see bright white light streaming in and illuminating the scene, reminding us that this is the St. Lucy Altarpiece.
This is probably enough for one article (and for one painting). But the point is that nothing in Renaissance art was accidental: every aspect, every choice made by the artists had meaning and contributed to the experience of the viewer. It was a very different experience than ours, when even basic things like the saints' attributes--which everyone would have recognized in the past--are mysteries to most of us.
This is the sort of information I plan to discuss in the evenings, while we sip a glass of wine, the night before our tour groups visit the Uffizi and other art museums. Of course, it will be much more enlightening when you see the actual paintings up close, but I would love to know if this is what you'd like to know,if this is helpful to you. It's easy to leave a comment.
. So I did. And, frankly, I was not impressed. It's not a bad book, in fact, it's often quite entertaining, but it's pretty shallow and not particularly insightful or helpful. 
