Caravaggio, part I

Michelangelo Merisi (or Amerighi) da Caravaggio, known as simply Caravaggio, was born on September 29, 1571 in Milan. His father was a household administrator and architect-decorator to the Marchese of Caravaggio, a town 35 km to the east of Milan. In order to escape a plague that ravaged the city, the Merisi family moved to Caravaggio in 1576. Caravaggio’s father and grandfather died the following year and his mother had to raise all of her five children in poverty. Young Caravaggio then probably grew up in his namesake town. Caravaggio’s mother died in 1584; the same year his older brother placed him in the workshop of the Milanese painter Simone Peterzano, where he spent four years as an apprentice. During these years, young Caravaggio became familiar with the art treasures of Milan, including Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper, and with the regional art of Lombardy, the larger region in which Milan is located. Italian art from Lombardy valued more simplicity and attention to naturalistic detail, and as such it was closer to the naturalism of the art of Germany (geographically closer to Lombardy) than to the stylization and grandiosity of the Mannerist art from Rome. Lionello Venturi (Italian historian and art critique, “Four steps toward modern art: Giorgione, Caravaggio, Manet, Cézanne”, 1956) stated that during his apprenticeship, Caravaggio was trained in the Mannerist technique. On the other hand, the ancient chronicler Giulio Mancini (“Considerazioni sulla pittura”, 1617-1621), said that young Caravaggio studied diligently for a period of about four years “although from time to time he did some extravagance caused by his heated and strong spirit”.

Boy peeling fruit, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, 1592-1593, 75.5 x 64.4 cm (Fondazione di Studi di Storia dell’Arte Roberto Longhi, Florence, Italy). This is the earliest known work by Caravaggio and it is believed to have been painted soon after his arrival in Rome in 1592. Boy Peeling a Fruit was apparently done for Caravaggio personal sale while he was working for Pandolfo Pucci. 

Next, hypotheses come about Caravaggio’s life. When he started working with Peterzano he was 12 years old. Mancini explained that he spent another four years there: making a total of 16. And the same author noted that when Caravaggio was 20 he was in Rome. What happened between 1588 and 1593? Some authors speculate that, during those years, he perfected his technique in Milan or Brescia, others —like Giovanni Pietro Bellori (“Le vite de’ pittori, scultori et architetti moderni”, 1672)— stated that he was in Venice. But these are, above all, old chroniclers. Today it seems accepted that around 1590 Caravaggio was already frequenting the Roman milieu. His precocity, in every way, could have passed off a 17-year-old boy for a 20-year-old.

Young Sick Bacchus, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1593, 67 x 53 cm (Galleria Borghese, Rome). Painted shortly after his arrival in Rome, this self-portrait as the God Bacchus was probably used to sell himself by demonstrating Caravaggio’s virtuosity in still-life and portraits. What it’s most striking in this painting though, is the take of Caravaggio on the figure of Bacchus: here he is no God, just a sickly young man who may be suffering from a hangover. Bacchus’ appearance is shocking rather than handsome: his face is unhealthy and his right shoulder is not that of a bronzed Adonis, as convention required at the time, but pale as in the case of any man who normally wears clothes.

In any case, we can easily imagine the art that young Caravaggio was exposed to during his stay in northern Italy before arriving in Rome. The region of Lombardy, although small in size, was important in artistic terms. Since the 15th century it had painters such as Vincenzo Foppa and Bergognone. And in the next century, with Lorenzo Lotto, Moretto da Brescia, Savoldo and Moroni who worked on the representation of less spectacular forms of religiosity and paid particular attention to the effects of light and shadow that foresaw paintings with scenes bathe in artificial lighting.

Boy with a Basket of Fruit, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1593, 70 x 67 cm (Galleria Borghese, Rome). This is another painting apparently aiming to demonstrate the artist’s ability to depict all kind of elements, from the boy’s skin to the fruits, the folds of the robe, the weave of the basket… Here, Caravaggio used as model his friend and companion, the Sicilian painter Mario Minniti, who was near 16 years old at the time. Here Caravaggio didn’t follow the tradition of painting a woman for this type of theme; instead, he chose a young boy and placed him right to the front of the picture plane. The boy thus seems to offer himself as well as the fruit basket to the spectator’s gaze. As a light source, Caravaggio used the diagonal ‘cellar’ light which became a hallmark of his style. Against a near-blank background, we focus our attention on the right side of the boy’s upper body, the classical drapery on his right arm and the marvelously composed fruit basket, bursting with succulent peaches, figs, apples, pears and bunches of grapes. 

An ancient chronicler tells that Caravaggio was involved in some “quarrels” and a police officer was wounded while he was in Milan. Although this information now seems to us to be part of the legend of the “cursed” painter, the truth is that Caravaggio’s life in Rome became a true picaresque novel. When he arrived, miserable, at the Eternal City, Caravaggio spent some period living among the lower depths of Roman society in the company of other exiles from Lombardy, all artists waiting for commissions. He then began to work for a rich prelate, a “beneficiary of Saint Peter” who had a Vatican “pension” named Pandolfo Pucci, whom the painter will later call “monsignor Insalata” (Monsignor Salad), given the lame vegetarian diet to which he was subjected. From there he passed under the tutelage of Lorenzo Siciliano, for whom he made “heads” for so many paintings (and it seems that he managed to make three a day). Later he collaborated with a Sienese friend of his, Antiveduto Gramatica, in whose workshop the demands were “half figures”. Caravaggio’s art was rising in quality, but always within the deepest poverty.

The Cardsharps, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1594, 94 x 131 cm (Kimbell Art Museum, Fort Worth, Texas). Caravaggio painted this canvas as an attempt of achieving independence as an artist after leaving the workshop of the Cavaliere Giuseppe Cesari d’Arpino. Behind a table that seems close to the spectator’s space, a young boy studies his cards, he is being observed by a sinister moustached middle-aged man, who send signals with his fingers to another young boy to the right of the painting and giving his back to us, he holds a five of hearts behind his back and carries a dagger at his waist. The subject-matter of this painting offered something new: a realistic scene of street life. We can highlight some beautifully executed details that Caravaggio offers to us: the gesture of the older man’s fingers, the anxious look of the cheater boy at his older colleague. 

Sick, he entered the hospice for the Poor of Consolation, and during his convalescence he painted some pictures that the prior will take later to his land. Now, that land —mentioned in an old document— is interpreted by some as Sicily and by others (Roberto Longhi) as Seville. That is why the great Italian historian wondered if one of the origins —20 years later— of the Sevillian painting school of Sánchez Cotán, Velázquez and Zurbarán, to mention a few, could not be seen in the early export of these works by Caravaggio. We are here in the field of speculation.

The Musicians, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1595, 92 x 118.5 cm (Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Cardinal Francesco Maria del Monte commissioned this painting to Caravaggio as he was himself very fond of music and musical instruments. The painting is supposed to represent an allegory to music as sustenance of love in the same way that, for example, food is the sustenance of life. The composition of the Musicians is one of the most challenging Caravaggio achieved during his life as he was able to harmoniously place four figures so close together in a very small space. The four young boys of the painting were painted from life. We see four boys wearing classical-style robes: three of them play a musical instrument or sing, while the fourth, to the left and dressed as Cupid, looks for some grapes. The music sheets are actually madrigals, short composition celebrating love, and we can notice that the eyes of the lutenist, the main central boy, are in tears. The violin placed in the foreground can imply the presence either of a fifth participant, thus including the viewer (?) or that the boy giving the back to us just left the violin to focus on the music sheet he’s holding. It seems that Caravaggio used two models for this painting: the central figure with the lute has been identified as Caravaggio’s friend Mario Minniti, and the boy next to him looking at the viewer is possibly a self-portrait. The ‘Cupid’-boy at the left looks similar to the boy in Boy Peeling Fruit painted ca. 3 years before.

Recovered, Caravaggio went to work with a painter more important than his previous patrons: Giuseppe Cesari, who was known by the title of Cavaliere d’Arpino, Pope Clement VIII’s favorite artist. He was perhaps an easy artist, but not a mere “manufacturer” as Caravaggio’s previous patrons were. Caravaggio stayed for a short time in that workshop, but it can be assumed that his two early paintings: Boy with a Basket of Fruit and the Young Sick Bacchus, both in Rome, must date from that time. Once free from the hands of the Cavaliere d’Arpino —who had the reputation of exploit talented young artists— Caravaggio found free lodging at the home of a prelate, Monsignor Fantin-Petrignani. At this point of the story, biographers begin to agree and acknowledge that Bacchus (Florence), The Fortune Teller (Louvre), Rest on the Flight into Egypt (Rome), Magdalene (Rome) and the Boy Bitten by a Lizard (London) were all painted in this period.

Boy Bitten by a Lizard, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, 1594-1596, 66 x 49.5 cm (National Gallery, London). Against a dark background, an effeminate boy with a white rose behind his ear is standing behind a stone slab with some cherries and a vase with a single rose and an orange blossom or jasmine. While reaching for some of the fruit, the boy is bitten by a lizard in his middle finger. In his fright, his shirt has slipped down off his right shoulder and his face shows pain and surprise. The rose behind the boy’s ear, the cherries, the third finger and the lizard probably have sexual connotations: is the boy shockingly aware of the pains of physical love (?). What was novel in this painting wasn’t much the subject-matter as its dramatic and instant treatment, like if it were a snapshot.
Boy Bitten by a Lizard (detail), oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, 1594-1596 (National Gallery, London). The ability to paint light reflecting in glass is one of the hallmarks of a virtuoso still-life artist. In this detail we can notice how unusually Caravaggio represented the round crystal-vase: he flattens it instead of making it spherical. He inverted the lighting source of the whole painting, by concentrating the light areas on the right side of the vase and the dark ones on the left.

The novelty of the art of Caravaggio was going to be exerted on several simultaneous planes. On the one hand, there was his choice of themes, or better —as Lionello Venturi said— of the “motifs”: Bacchus, yes, but desacralized. There is also a certain picturesqueness that Caravaggio is going to impose. In a title like ‘Boy Bitten by a Lizard’, we don’t see now the audacity, but there was then, and it was huge. At that time the works were announced as “heads”, “busts”, “half figures”: it was the format that distinguished them from each other. At the same time, these works by the young Caravaggio were not limited to displaying a novel name, but what was more important; they also carried a different way of approaching reality. Even half a century after his death, the current opinion considered that Caravaggio only painted what was despicable, what was found in the streets and, therefore, it was material that didn’t reach the accepted levels of “decency”. At that time, painting in Italy moved between two poles: on the one hand, there was the somber art that strictly followed the principles stated in the Council of Trent; on the other, there was the art displaying a superficial fantasy in the manner of Barocci or of the Cavalier d’Arpino himself.

Caravaggio also believed in the concept of “ritrarre dal naturale,” that is, painting from life, rather than using an idea or the imagination as inspiration. He often used as models people from everyday life instead of idealized figures from ancient models or his imagination. He usually assigned to his models roles that contradicted their physiognomy. In this sense, Caravaggio’s painting style wasn’t completely accepted by the elites, buyers, and fellow artists of the time. Caravaggio also painted straight on to his canvases without sketching first as it was customary.

The Lute Player, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1600, 94 x 119 cm (Hermitage Museum, Saint Petersburg, Russia). This is other of the works Caravaggio executed for his patron Cardinal Francesco Del Monte. The painting shows a boy with almost effeminate facial features and thick brown and wavy hair, he plays a lute while singing a madrigal about love as evident in the music sheet placed in front of him on a marble slab, together with a violin on the right (inviting the spectator to take part in a duet with the lutenist?) and a still life of flowers and fruit on the left. As typical of Caravaggio’s work, the still life is rendered in an extremely high quality. The model for the painting has been identified again as Caravaggio’s friend Mario Minniti. Here, Caravaggio masterfully resolved the problems of perspective when representing the lute and the violin, while the lighting is used as an aid to highlight the musician and his instruments as the main focus of the viewer’s attention, while the flower vase and the still life become a secondary focus.

On the other hand, the implacable lucidity of Caravaggio, that all-powerful eye and yet capable of unitary vision and not of mere curious detail, had to make it a brutal novelty, a fact that was difficult to admit by the contemporary Roman circles that commanded and influenced taste and artistic tendencies.

For example, paintings such as The Rest on the Flight into Egypt, The Fortune Teller, are transitional works and can be accepted without much resistance. In the first, although the composition had to seem “impossible”, with the angel from behind and in the central axis of the painting dividing it into two halves, the color and light are clear, diffuse and irresistibly suggest the works by Giorgione. In The Fortune Teller, the half figures express an action, but do they really express it? Actually, it is about two psychological studies placed in parallel and in the same painting. They are—according to Venturi’s phrase—two “moral” portraits that oppose each other under the pretext of a fortune teller. The great novelty must have resided, however (as in the contemporary Repentant Magdalene), in the neutral, indeterminate background, against which the characters were outlined.

Basket of Fruit, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1599, 46 × 64.5 cm (Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, Milan, Italy). In this still life, Caravaggio shows us a wicker basket bursting with summer fruits and leaves, and perched on the edge of what seems a ledge or a table. Opposite to the fashion of the day, the fruits and leaves are far from exhibit ‘perfect’ looks, but appear worm-eaten, insect-predated, and some of the leaves are wilted. It seems as if one of the painting’s purpose were to ponder about the fading beauty, and the natural decaying of all things. The basket seems to precariously sits barely on the edge of the picture-space (the ledge or edge of the table), as in danger of falling out and into the viewer’s space. Besides this, what it still catches attention to this painting up to this day, is the extraordinary quasi-photographic realism of its rendering, almost lingering with the illusory. From Caravaggio onwards, still-life was to be the most popular of genres. Caravaggio’s solution of placing the basket at eye level, juts out over the edge and into the real space of the spectator, renders an otherwise trivial object with an air of monumentality.

Great innovations with respect to the painting of the time were very soon displayed in Caravaggio’s art, and these at all levels. Take, for example, the case of the still life. Until then, this genre was considered in Italy as a simple curiosity imported from northern Europe. Caravaggio, who said that “it was as much work for him to make a good painting of flowers as it was of figures”, begins by placing —as in Bacchus or the Lute Player (Russia)—, next to a character in full life and engaged in action, a group of flowers and fruits in “stopped (still) life”. He later isolated this last sub-scene and ventured to present it alone: this was the case of the famous Basket of Fruits (Milan). At first, painters represented exquisite dishes and sweets, precious objects such as Murano glasses and Bohemian crystals. Caravaggio, from the start, had dared to immortalize the vulgar basket full of ordinary fruits, even including the chopped ones and some wilted leaves. And it was only because of the quality of his painting that he imposed his version of the reality of things, of all kind of things. There is something like a lesson in humility in his undertaking: all that is part of Creation has the right to be copied and even exalted. All beings and things from the Creation must be recorded, like the reflections of a mirror. And although the mirror puts “distance” between us and observed things, it indeed treat us all in the same way, reflecting things as they are. It’s a bit like Caravaggio’s attitude and, in that, it was extraordinarily modern. His approach was anti-Renaissance in the sense that he didn’t create an anthropocentric world but rather he considered our carnality and even our spirituality as “facts” given to him once and for all and which he refused to interpret in a philosophical or deeply intellectual way. Roberto Longhi spoke of this “instantaneous psychological reflex”: the boy bitten by the lizard pulls his hand away from him, frowns; a cry of surprise makes him open his mouth. As strange as it may seem to us, this was advanced for the people of the times, who weren’t used to that type of instantaneity and were reluctant to admit paintings “without a story behind”.

Bacchus, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1596, 95 × 85 cm (Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence, Italy). As another work painted for Cardinal Del Monte, the subject aimed to reflect the patron’s fondness of classical Greek mythology in order to emphasize his knowledge of art, music, and theater. The model seems to be, again, Caravaggio’s companion, Mario Minniti. The painting shows a youthful Bacchus with grapes and vine leaves in his hair. With his right hand he seems to loose the rope of his robe; while with his left hand he presents us a shallow goblet filled with wine, inviting us to join him. On a stone slab in front of him is a bowl of fruit and a large carafe of the same red wine he is offering to us. Though a mythological subject, Caravaggio’s revolutionary handling of it is evident:  this Bacchus is no longer depicted as an ancient god, but as an ordinary and effeminate youth dressed up as Bacchus, who turns his plump face towards us while offering wine from a goblet he holds with his fingers with grimy nails. It is indeed a sensual scene. The young boy barely tries to keep his robes on as he tempts the viewer to join him with a suggestive look in his eye.
Bacchus (detail), oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1596 (Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence, Italy).

From then on, everything changed with Caravaggio: Bacchus is an ordinary boy who poses for a few coins; the Magdalene will not be the sappy image of a woman of the world “doing the Magdalene”, but a weeping peasant woman withdrawn tearfully, deep on her own thoughts and with a large dark empty space around her, a space that we must interpret as a true “painted silence”. What he wanted to destroy in these works —that is, the anecdote— seems tempted in The Fortune Teller that we have already mentioned, although in it there is hardly an attempt at action. On the other hand, in The Cardsharps (Texas), Caravaggio seems to lose that same dispensable discretion and exaggerates the diabolism of the moustached character. It is a feat that he won’t repeat again.

Penitent Magdalene, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1594–1595, 122.5 × 98.5 cm (Galleria Doria Pamphilj, Rome). Commissioned most probably by Pietro Vittrice, the guardaroba (‘wardrobe’) of Pope Gregory XIII, this painting was unconventional for the time for the way Caravaggio took on the subject-matter with its contemporary realism and departure from the traditional iconography of the saint. Penitent Magdalene portrays her as a young repentant woman, bowed over in penitent sorrow, with her hands cradled in her lap as she leaves behind her material life, represented by some of her precious possessions abandoned beside her: a pearl necklace, clasps, a jar with a liquid, nearly three-quarters full… Magdalen’s gaze avoids that of the viewer, and her head turned downward recalls the position that was traditionally assigned to that of the crucified Jesus Christ. A single tear runs down one cheek close to her nose. Caravaggio was known to have used several prostitutes as models for his works, and art historians have speculated that one of them was portrayed in this painting. This could be the first religious painting ever completed by Caravaggio.

Until 1951-1952 it was assumed that all the vicissitudes of Caravaggio’s hectic life had happened to him in two or three years. Thanks to new documents, scholars are inclined to believe in a longer Roman period and that it would go from 1591 or 1593 (the year in which it appears inscribed in the Academy of Saint Luke, Accademia di San Luca, in Rome) until the year 1596, at which time he must have painted The Basket of Fruit (Milan). Caravaggio’s style is asserting itself, although that does not mean that it is well received everywhere. The painter continues to undersell his works until a professional reseller named Valentino introduces him to Cardinal Francesco Maria del Monte, one of the leading art connoisseurs in Rome. The material hardships of the painter will come to an end under the patronage of Cardinal del Monte: with a secure home and food, he can throw himself fully into painting as he understands it. For his protector he seems to have painted at that time the already mentioned Cardsharps and the Lute Player, plus the shield with the threatening face of the Medusa (Florence).

Rest on the Flight into Egypt, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1597, 135.5 × 166.5 cm (Galleria Doria Pamphilj, Rome). The ‘Flight into Egypt’ was a popular subject in art, but Caravaggio’s composition, with an angel playing the viol to the Holy Family, was novel as well as unusual. The artist used the figure of the angel playing the viol with his back to the viewer to divide the composition into two parts. On the right, in front of an autumnal river-front scene, we can see the sleeping Mary with a sleepy baby Jesus; on the left, Joseph sits while holding the musical score for the angel to perform, we can also see the donkey’s large eyes peeking out from under the brown foliage. This painting was the first large-scale work done by Caravaggio, and compositionally is more ambitious than The Musicians. This painting also includes a landscape, a subject very rare for Caravaggio who always painted within dark, close spaces. The figure of Mary seems to portray the same girl who appears as Mary Magdalen in Penitent Magdalene.

As important as this period was, so far we have not arrived at the two typical traits of Caravaggio in the face of traditional art history as it is told: his “realism” and his “tenebrism”. We are approaching the moment when they are both going to hatch. In 1951 important articles by J. Hess, Denis Mahon and Roberto Longhi appeared disputing the dates of the work for the Contarelli chapel in the Roman church of San Luigi dei Franchesi (Saint Louis of the French). That same year, Venturi, with the experience of his age and knowledge about Caravaggio, said: “When a painting is not dated by written sources, it can be classified stylistically in a given group, but specifying the years seems to me to be exaggerating”. We will abide by this call to prudence. Everything seems to indicate today that Caravaggio did not receive the commission for the French Church of Rome until the end of 1597 or the beginning of 1598. At that time, he was no longer only a protégé of Cardinal Del Monte, but also of Vincenzo Giustiniani, Ciriaco Mattei, the Barberinis and the Massimos, all powerful names in Rome.

Medusa, oil on canvas mounted on wood, by Caravaggio, 1597,
60 × 55 cm (Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence, Italy). Cardinal del Monte is again responsible for this commission to Caravaggio. In Greek mythology, the Gorgon Medusa is killed by the demigod Perseus. By the 16th century Medusa was a symbol of the triumph of reason over the senses; this may be the reason why Cardinal Del Monte commissioned Caravaggio to paint it. The artist chose to depict the severed head of Medusa right after the very moment of her decapitation; though the head is decapitated, it still appears conscious to us, with the painting capturing its final moments before death.

The history of the paintings for San Luigi dei Francesi is exemplary… in a bad way: the greatest scholars of our days fail to agree on almost any of the essential points. It is not a question here of restating these problems. Among the ancient chroniclers: Mancini, van Mander, Baglione and Bellori; and our contemporaries: those already mentioned, plus Arslan, Urbani and Friedländer, it can be said that if the issue has not been fully clarified, it at least gives us the impression of being, once and for all, circumscribed.

The Fortune Teller, oil on canvas, by Caravaggio, ca. 1595, 93 × 131 cm (Musée du Louvre, Paris). With this painting and The Cardsharps, Caravaggio introduced a subject unknown before in Italian painting that was known only in Netherlandish paintings: the so-called genre painting, depicting scenes of everyday life, but with a hidden or underlying meaning intending moral or social undertones. The painting shows a flamboyantly dressed boy that seems to have no experience in life but his own self. He is giving his right hand to a young gipsy girl, in order to have his future read. The boy looks pleased as he gazes into the girl’s face, while she returns his gaze gentle caressing his hand and thus captivating the handsome young fool. He is so charmed by the young girl that he fails to notice the girl is actually drawing his ring gently from his finger.

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Genre Painting: A term that refers to paintings depicting scenes of everyday life. In Europe, genre painting developed particularly in Holland in the 17th century. The most typical subjects were scenes of peasant life or drinking in taverns, and tended to be small in scale.

Still Life: A work of art depicting mostly inanimate subject matter, typically commonplace objects which are either natural (food, flowers, dead animals, plants, rocks, shells, etc.) or human-made (drinking glasses, books, vases, jewelry, coins, pipes, etc.). Originated in the Middle Ages and in the Ancient Greco-Roman art, still-life painting emerged as a distinct genre in Western painting by the late 16th century.