probably an eminent associate of the painter, possibly Cardinal Barberini, the Cavalier Marino, or even Alof de Wignacourt, though we cannot be sure. He even painted a Trinity – now lost – representing two men sitting on a seat under which a pigeon seeks refuge, men who he probably rubbed shoulders with in the inn. By liberating himself from the conventions of religious iconography, his work was a decisive turning point in the representation of the stories of the saints and biblical figures, characters to whom he gave realism and humanity.
Judith Beheading Holofernes, c. 1598–1599.
Oil on canvas, 145 × 195 cm.
Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica di Palazzo Barberini, Rome.
The First Roman Works and the Church of San Luigi dei Francesi
The First Roman Works
Judith Beheading Holofernes (detail), 1598–1599.
Oil on canvas, 145 × 195 cm.
Galleria Nazionale d’Arte Antica di Palazzo Barberini, Rome.
Caravaggio’s response to the imposing ambitions of the Roman Baroque was becoming more and more purposeful. Thus, soon after he arrived in Rome he proved capable of tasks of a greater style. Many remarkable paintings date from this time, notably The Fortune Teller, Rest on the Flight into Egypt, Penitent Magdalene and Martha and Mary Magdalene. Caravaggio worked on the lighting in these paintings, of which The Fortune Teller, according to Baglione, was painted for the Cardinal del Monte, the best copy of which is in the Capitolinian collection (there is a replica in the Louvre),[37] and Saint John the Baptist, sometimes known as Youth with a Ram, found in the Galleria Doria Pamphilj in Rome (with a replica likely in Pommersfelden Castle near Bamberg, Germany).[38] The subject of the first of these paintings, which was created for his patron, was taken up by Manfredi and Strozzi in slightly lighter colours.
Saint John the Baptist shows the model of a young boy from the Ciociaria region of Italy, near the Campagna Romana, which he later liked to use to represent an Arcadian atmosphere. Half sitting, his right arm draped around the neck of the ram, the bucolic young shepherd turns his head towards the observer. The seat on which he is lounging is covered with a fur, and red and white cloths. The background is dark, with just a few tufts of grass in the foreground to mark the scene. The painting is of dull red and yellow tones and is strongly reminiscent of the frescos of the Cavalier d’Arpino, even if the strength of the scene deviates from the conventional tendencies of his Roman teacher.
Closely relating to this piece is the Cupido a sedere (Amor Victorious), which is in the Gemäldegalerie in Berlin. According to Baglione, it was commissioned by the Marchese Giustiniani. The copy that went from the Giustiniani Collection to the gallery in Berlin is the best of the known versions, one of which is kept in the museum in Dijon.[39] Cupid, who is depicted as a young boy with the customary arrows in his right hand, is accompanied by a still life arranged in brilliant disorder, made up of musical instruments, armour, and a musical score. His legs are akimbo, the left resting on a stool covered by a white cloth. It is the same boy model as that of the shepherd in the Galleria Doria Pamphilj, only more elegantly posed and even more strikingly three-dimensional. The colouring shows the last vestiges of the warm Venetian tones, though the image is already lit from above and slightly to the side, reflecting the lateral lighting which was becoming more and more common in Roman Baroque architecture. There is a companion to this piece, which is mentioned by Baglione. It depicts Cupid appearing in the guise of a mortal, and is the counterpart to Cupido a sedere.[40] As with the Archangel Michael, “divine love” has captured the high-spirited Eros, lured by the god of the underworld, and who is now lying helplessly on the ground. Not treated in such an interesting fashion as its counterpart, this painting shows the same characteristics of style with an even cooler overall attitude. These paintings of sacred and profane love do not appear to have been intended as counterparts as such, demonstrated by the fact that they were destined for different owners. While the former was painted for the Marchese Vincenzo Giustiniani, Baglione claims that the latter was amongst the pieces that Caravaggio painted for Cardinal del Monte. He also produced the head of a Medusa for the Cardinal, which the latter gave as a present to the Grand Duke Ferdinand of Tuscany. The painting has remained in Florence until this day.[41] In hindsight, J. Burckhardt’s assessment of this painting now seems too harsh,[42] writing: “Always eager to capture the instantaneous expression, he therefore neglects the deeper expression, painting a female head on the verge of decapitation exactly as he would paint her when a tooth is being extracted.” In view of the principles of style inherent in Renaissance art, Caravaggio had to make the expression so pronounced as to maintain the balance as a whole; the three-dimensionality, created with the help of exquisite means of reproduction, moves from the pictorial habits of his previous works towards the incredible. No painting from the Roman School of that time gives such a magnificent effect. Thus, the great deeds of his Roman period seem understandable.
The fact that Caravaggio was equally interested in bambocciate, though in a more dignified form than the traditional small depictions of everyday life, obviously induced him to try to make use of drawing techniques, although he did not choose engraving with a dry needle, but etching. As an authority on techniques in the field of painting, he may have been attracted to it because of its artistic effect.
Saint John the Baptist, c. 1597–1598.
Oil on canvas, 169 × 112 cm.
Museo Tesoro Catedralicio, Toledo.
Martha and Mary Magdalene, c. 1598.
Oil and tempera on canvas, 100 × 134.5 cm.
The Detroit Institute of Arts, Detroit.
Medusa, 1591–1592.
Oil on canvas mounted on a poplar wood shield, 60 × 55 cm.
Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence.
We have one of his etchings from the days when he was the pupil of the Cavalier d’Arpino, the subject of which indicates that it was made during his period of genre painting. In this etching, which is dedicated to his teacher and signed MA. I. F., we see again the motif of the Bohemian woman that he used in the painting in the Musei Capitolini, but here more elaborate. It is possible that the monochromatic work gave him the idea. It depicts a gypsy telling a young man his fortune, while between them an old man appears as an independent witness and to the left is a boy, who is pulling a purse out of the youth’s suit, with which the young man must pay the woman whose advice he requests. In the top left-hand corner are words filled with resignation: Fur. Demon. Mundus senex fraude. (A thief. The devil. The world at the hand of an old man’s ruse).
The best-known of Caravaggio’s bambocciate, though not mentioned by his biographers, is that of The Cardsharps in the Kimbell Art Museum in Texas.[43] The demonic terror within the subject, so obviously highlighted in this work, matters less than the strength of expression of the figures, which Caravaggio seems to have almost sculpted, foregoing the depiction of any surroundings. The painting, on a coarse canvas and of a relatively small size, shows half-length figures. It demonstrates a vital change in the evolution of the artist’s work, which took place following progress in Baroque art in Rome, forcing him to move beyond his Venetian experiences. Despite the fact that his earlier techniques can be seen in the fine colouring and the sweetness of the young faces, the neutral background of dark green and black, as well as the attempt to highlight the forms with light, indicate strongly the new direction that Caravaggio’s work would take.
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