Along with Ribera and Velázquez, other great painters were part of the Spanish Golden Age of the 17th century. One of them was Francisco Ribalta (1565-1628). Catalan born in Solsona, he passed through Madrid before settling in Castellón and then in Valencia. Perhaps he went to Italy, and without being a tenebrist (rather a painter with a soft technique), in his canvases he took pleasure in the contrasts of light, focused mainly on mystical subjects and portrayals of friars, like his Saint Bruno (ca. 1625-1627).
The main altarpiece for the Charterhouse of Porta Coeli (in the Province of Valencia) consisted of at least 16 paintings, of which only 13 are now kept in the Museum of Fine Arts of Valencia. Ribalta’s workshop was involved in the execution of this massive altarpiece painted between 1625 and 1627. From this work, only four paintings can be attributed with certainty to the hand of Ribalta, between them Saint Bruno. The standing figure of Saint Bruno completely fills the painting. Ribalta depicted him with his right index finger in his mouth in an attitude of demanding silence according to the strict rules of the order he founded. Saint Bruno has been the most admired painting of this altarpiece. The reduced chromatic range used by Ribalta, the richness of the color tonality employed for the depiction of the saint’s white robe, the realism of the face and the light that falls from the side, all combined with what seems to be the ‘liquid’ brushstrokes by the artist, are all characteristics of Ribalta’s work, whose interest in the effects of light were influenced by Venetian painting. Ribalta was the first Spanish painter of the 17th century to abandon Mannerism to develop a new realistic style. His painting style is remarkable for its strong naturalism, with bold and free brushstrokes, so different from the polished smoothness used in the previous age (Renaissance). In his work, Ribalta sought expressiveness as well as beauty, and accentuated the sculptural modeling of his figures by contrasting light and shadows.
The main altarpiece of the Carthusian monastery of Porta-Coeli was likely preceded by the execution of Christ Embracing St. Bernard (ca. 1625-1627). This painting was located in the cell of one of the priors where it was praised as “the most beautiful, well-painted and expressive thing painted by Ribalta”. Here, Ribalta was able to explore the full potential of the naturalist style to communicate profound religious feelings. Against a background of brown shadows, which surrounds two angels in darkness, a powerful light source illuminates a muscular Christ, in the manner of those painted before by Sebastiano del Piombo, and the monk with gaunt figure and prominent cheekbones dressed in a white ivory habit. As Christ descends from the cross to meet him, St. Bernard’s body goes limp and needs to be supported by the Savior who embraces him. Despite the limited range of color, almost monochrome, the ‘liquid’ brushstrokes brake-up the color into multiple tones. The low point of view gives monumentality to the composition, with the main figures of Christ and Saint Bernard fused by the lateral light into a single block. By exercising superb control of the composition and modeling, Ribalta succeeded in externalizing a powerful religious experience, making it feel real though not common.
The Extremaduran Francisco de Zurbarán was born a year before Velázquez, in 1598, in Fuente de Cantos, and died in 1664, four years later than him, probably in Madrid. He can be considered Sevillian, since in Seville he spent his formative years in the workshop of Herrera the Elder. Still young, in 1631 he painted the Apotheosis of Saint Thomas Aquinas for the Dominican College of Saint Thomas in Seville. Although this composition followed the archaic medieval scheme, it contains a magnificent series of portraits like in El Greco’s “Burial of the Count of Orgaz” (1586-1588). The composition is divided in the earthly realm (the lower half of the painting) and the heavenly one (the upper half), with a background of clouds in blue and gold tones. The heavenly glory, in turn, includes two levels. The lower level—the core of the work—is centered on the tall and corpulent figure of Saint Thomas Aquinas raising his gaze to Heaven, wearing the Dominican religious habit, and prepared to write his Summa Theologica. He is surrounded by the four doctors of the Latin Church who engage in conversation about some texts they hold on their laps. From left to right they are Saint Ambrose and Pope Saint Gregory and Saint Jerome and Saint Augustine. On the uppermost level—directly above St. Thomas—the Holy Spirit appears in the form of a dove emanating rays that seem to be inspiring the writing of St. Thomas. Seated to the left are Christ and the Virgin Mary enthroned, while Saint Paul and Saint Dominic sit to the right.
The scene in the lower area is centered on a table covered with a sumptuous ruby velvet tablecloth, on which rests a still life that includes documents and books related to the founding bull of the school (including the date and signature of Zurbarán). Arranged at both sides of the table are eight men, kneeling in an attitude of devotion towards Saint Thomas at the top. The group on the right side is headed by Emperor Charles V and, behind him; three figures with doctoral attire, one of them a Dominican friar. The left group is led by Diego de Deza, the founder of the College, and three other Dominicans. In the background are buildings built on land donated by Charles V.
Zurbarán was brilliantly skilled in the use of the effects of color and light and in the vocation of religious anointing. For the numerous commissions he received from several convents, he painted portraits of great monastic figures from the Spain of his century, like those for the Convent of the Merced of Seville (1628), the Charterhouse of Jerez (1637-1639) or the Hieronymite monastery of Guadalupe (1638-1639). Dressed in loose, luminous habits, sitting at their desk or officiating, Carthusians, Mercedarians and Hieronymites were portrayed by Zurbarán with unparalleled dignity.
Saint Serapion (1628) was commissioned by the Mercedarian Order to hang in the De Profundis (funerary chapel) hall of their monastery of the Merced in Seville. St. Serapion of Algiers (1179-1240) was a Mercedarian friar who fought in the Third Crusade of 1196 and was later martyred by the Saracens. Zurbarán identified, signed and dated the painting on a cartouche located in the center-right. In this painting, the artist wanted to represent the horror of martyrdom without depicting a single drop of blood. The half-open mouth of St. Serapion is not a gesture of pain, but it seems it is trying to say, in a simple breath, that it is too much to continue living. Saint Serapion is depicted by Zurbarán in a quasi-crucified pose, standing with each hand bound by ropes and chain to an overhead horizontal pole. The strain placed on the saint’s arms is marvelously indicated by the heavy hanging folds of the drapes of his cloth. In this painting, Zurbarán made use of chiaroscuro in the best Spanish Tenebrist tradition of José de Ribera. The way in which Zurbarán described Serapion’s robe has long been praised by viewers and art scholars: while the dominance of the white paint creates a sense of tranquility, the tension of the painting per se relies on the dark shades created from the deep folds of the robe.
The Apotheosis of Saint Bruno (ca. 1638-1639) was originally commissioned for the main altarpiece of the charterhouse of Jerez de la Frontera. A harsh light bathes the white silhouette of Saint Bruno, who seems to be enveloped in a transparent atmosphere. Saint Bruno is standing, with his right hand raising a crucifix towards Heaven, while extending his left hand with palm opened in a praying attitude. His eyes rise towards Heaven and his open mouth denotes a state of ecstasy. Around Saint Bruno, some objects complete the reading of the canvas. On the right side, an armchair has been abandoned by Bruno. At his feet, to the left corner, the Episcopal miter and crosier both rejected by the future saint. On the left side on a table it’s a large open book resting on a skull. At the top, in a burst of glory, some angels make a wreath of flowers for Bruno. In the background, the light from Heaven illuminates a wide landscape, where we can see in the distance the buildings of the old Great Charterhouse.
To honor the historical memory of Fray Martín de Vizcaya, Zurbarán painted for the sacristy of the Hieronymite monastery of Guadalupe Fray Martín de Vizcaya Distributing Alms (1639). Fray Martín de Vizcaya, one of the 32 Hieronymite monks who founded the first community of the Royal Monastery of Santa María de Guadalupe in 1389, was the doorkeeper of the monastery. As porter-almoner, he exercised charity for those in need by daily distributing alms to the needy of Guadalupe and other places who approached the doors of the monastery daily for help. This is precisely how Zurbarán depicted Fray Martín in this painting, though its most admired element is the basket of bread. This is a beautiful still life, a simple bread basket bathed in a diaphanous light that turns it into a precious object.
Zurbarán also painted beautiful images of the Virgin as a little girl and ascetic visions. In these works, Zurbarán’s close affinity with popular culture was expressed in his amazing gift as a colorist. The pure, bright, intensive hues of his paintings, though most often dictated by Christian symbolism, came together in unexpected harmony.
The iconography of the life of the Virgin as a little girl was a great success in Spain during the Golden Age. The norms dictated by the Council of Trent called for treating this topic, not only with sweetness and candor, but also with discreet references to the Passion of Christ. Zurbarán’s art perfectly adapted to these norms. The Virgin Mary as a Child (1658-1660) represents Mary, about four or five years old, pausing from her sewing work to pray. In her lap there is a white cloth, identifiable with the shroud of Christ and with purity. The symbolic home elements are reduced here to a simple belfry chair and a greenish cushion, on which her abandoned sewing work rests. Zurbarán represented Mary as a child praying, with her little hands together, her face directed towards Heaven, all of her immersed in ecstasy. She wears a red suit, with beautiful embroidery on the collar and cuffs, and wears a blue cloak gathered on both arms. Here, the red of Mary’s dress signifies love and charity; the green, youth and the enclosed garden of paradise, one more symbol of her immaculacy. Zurbarán completed this work in Madrid a few years before his death.
At the age of 35 Zurbarán was named royal painter, but, according to Palomino (“El Museo pictórico y escala óptica” in 3 volumes, published in English as “An account of the lives and works of the most eminent Spanish painters, sculptors and architects”, 1715-1724), he didn’t go to Madrid until 1650, and even so because Velázquez insisted that he decorate a room in the Buen Retiro Palace. He returned to Seville, his adopted homeland, and after his death, his widow and children lived in a house they received from the city council.
Even though the most characteristic themes depicted by Zurbarán were monks and saints, he also painted some holy women in which he demonstrated his ability to capture on the canvas the feminine grace and beauty. Thus, paintings like Saint Apollonia (ca. 1636), Saint Elizabeth of Portugal (ca. 1635), Saint Rufina (ca. 1645-1650) and Saint Margaret of Antioch (1631) are, in general, classical types of Andalusian women dressed with extraordinary elegance and wealth.
Legend says that Saint Apollonia of Alexandria, a woman of mature age, was kidnapped, expecting her to blaspheme against Jesus Christ. As she didn’t, as a punishment, all her teeth were violently extracted (hence she is regarded as patron saint of dentists). Afterwards her executioners threatened to throw her into a bonfire if she didn’t apostatize, but she went ahead herself, entering the flames where she died. The Christians then gathered from the ashes what little remained of her. Her teeth were kept as relics, and later distributed among several churches. In his depiction of Saint Apollonia (ca. 1636), Zurbarán didn’t represent her as an old woman, but rather young. She is seen in full body and in profile, in a walking attitude, looking directly but fleetingly at the viewer. She wears a crown of flowers, and displays in her right hand a pincer with a tooth—attributes of her martyrdom—as well as the palm of her martyrdom in her left hand. Her face—oval in shape, large black eyes, small mouth, and rosy cheeks—was the ideal of Spanish feminine beauty at the time. The execution of the clothing is truly masterful, showing Zurbarán’s ability with coloring. Apollonia wears a dress of beautiful yellow color, tied with a sash of white fabric. On top of her dress wears an iridescent mauve pink over tunic, and a long green silk mantle, tied over her chest with another large bow. The painting was perhaps part of the high altar of San José in the church of the Discalced Fathers of Mercy in Seville. Although Renaissance artists clothed their saints in Classical draperies, 17th century artists like Caravaggio and Zurbarán dressed them in contemporary fashion.
Saint Elizabeth of Portugal, or Elizabeth of Aragon, was queen of Portugal between 1282 and 1325. Elizabeth dedicated much of her time to caring for those in need. According to legend, despite her husband’s prohibition, one day she carried a large amount of bread intended for charity hidden in her lap. Having been discovered by her husband, the bread turned into roses, despite it being winter. After the death of her husband, Isabel undertook a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela, where she offered her crown to the cathedral. Zurbarán’s Saint Elizabeth of Portugal (ca. 1635) has a courtly appearance and attire and wears a crown, perhaps alluding to her offering in Compostela. The saint is illuminated by an intense light, which makes her elegant figure stand out against a dark background and her own shadow on the ground. Both, the magnificent color and the opulence, volume and tactile quality of the clothing are typical features of Zurbarán’s works from the mid-1630s. Elizabeth wears a light brown-orange skirt over a dark green dress. On her torso, she wears a blue-green taffeta, which exposes her vermilion sleeves. From the top of her back hangs another lavish garment, golden-yellow in color, all the way to the floor. The character’s upper arms, shoulders and waist are girded with sumptuous chains, adorned with gems.
Rufina, born in Seville in 268, came from a family of Christians dedicated to pottery. According to her legend, she didn’t want to collaborate in a pagan festival, for which she was imprisoned and threatened with martyrdom. When she refused to apostatize, she suffered various torments. Later, Rufina was condemned to be killed by the beasts of the amphitheater. There a lion, however, simply licked her hands. The prefect then ordered her to be beheaded and her body burned. Despite the saint’s legend, Zurbarán didn’t depict Saint Rufina’s death, but rather he highlighted her dedication to pottery. We see again in Saint Rufina (ca. 1645-1650) the soft tones, the diffused treatment of light and the beautiful coloring typical of Zurbarán. Here, Saint Rufina is wearing a red dress, of which only the sleeves and the lower part are visible. Over it, she wears an elegant and loose ocher-colored garment, with a silky appearance. Around her right arm and over her shoulder she wears a green scarf. At her neckline she wears a very fine striped chiffon garment, and her waist is surrounded by a striped bow. In her left arm she carries two clay pots, reminiscent of the Still Life with Pots (1650) painted by Zurbarán in other of his canvases.
176 cm × 107,5 cm (National Gallery of Ireland, Dublin).
Margaret of Antioch, another Christian martyr, cared for her nurse’s flock of sheep and she was imprisoned and tortured for defending her virginity against the attempts of a Roman prefect. In his depiction of Saint Margaret of Antioch (1631), Zurbarán dressed her as an elegant Spanish shepherdess, with a very refined outfit. She holds the shepherd’s crook in her right hand and a woven shepherd’s bag hangs from her left forearm while she holds a Bible with her left hand. Behind her, the presence of a dragon alludes to the legend that tells of her imprisonment during which the devil in the form of a dragon appeared to tempt her and she managed to defeat him with the sign of the cross. Saint Margaret gazes at the spectator with a sweetly childish face. Zurbarán painted with great detail her clothing, the shepherd’s bag and the straw hat with curved brims that Margaret wears.
In all his paintings of saints, we marvel at Zurbarán’s pleasure in representing textiles: turquoise or violet satins, thick red velvets, rich embroidery, or the dense white fabrics of monks’ habits. All show us Zurbarán’s own interest in real-world objects. The flowers, fruits or books that appear on his large canvases were painted with the same interest as the faces of the characters he portrayed. Zurbarán’s still lifes are of great beauty and are the pride of this genre for the museums that own them. These are fruits, cups, plates and pots made of clay, which the artist painted with magical realism and with a balance in their arrangement that transmits to the viewer a lucid and profound contemplation of the world of objects.
Still Life with Pots (ca. 1650) is a simple but impeccable composition that includes as only protagonists six objects of traditional tableware and light. The tableware includes three pottery vessels (two white and a vase of reddish clay) and three metal pieces (a cup and two trays). Zurbarán placed all these objects on a table, well aligned, individualized, autonomous from each other and framed by a neutral background. In this apparently ‘simple’ painting, Zurbarán managed to balance the diverse shapes and few tones, while the diverse textures allowed him to experiment with the different ways each piece responds to lighting and reflections. The tenebrist style he used in this work, with strong contrasts of light and shadow, makes the objects stand out vividly on the deliberately chosen dark background. As viewers, we can see how light and color harmonize effortlessly, making silence the protagonist of this painting. This simple still life contrasts in its austerity with the opulent, almost oppressive, and full of elements Flemish still lifes of the same period.
Throughout his career, Zurbarán produced a good number of devotional works focused on Saint Francis, the founder of the Franciscan Order. In their stark simplicity and profound sense of spirituality, these paintings can today be considered amongst the most evocative and iconic sacred images produced within 17th-century Spain. In Saint Francis Contemplating a Skull (ca. 1635) the simplicity and directness of Zurbarán’s depiction of St. Francis was totally in line with the spirit of the Counter-Reformation, following the Council of Trent (1545-1563), which encouraged a new focus on devotional life and re-affirmed the importance of the veneration of images, a focus of controversy for the Reformers of the Church. This work was originally commissioned for one of the chapels of the Church of San Alberto (Seville).
Agnus Dei (Latin for ‘Lamb of God’, 1635) is the name of at least seven different versions of a same theme painted by Francisco de Zurbarán, all with very few variants. The ‘Lamb of God’ is an allusion to Christ’s title as recorded in John’s Gospel (John 1: 29) when John the Baptist describes Jesus as “The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the World”. The version of the Agnus Dei kept at the Museo del Prado (Madrid) is one of the best executed, painted during Zurbarán’s artistic peak. It is considered as one of the most elegant and substantive works of the Spanish Baroque by the virtuosity of its brushstrokes, and the quality and simplicity of the corkscrew curls of the lamb’s coat.
Virgin of the Carthusians (also known as the ‘Virgin of the Caves’ or the ‘Virgin of Mercy’, ca. 1655) was part of a series of three paintings commissioned for the sacristy of the Charterhouse of las Cuevas (Seville). The theme of the Virgin of Mercy protecting the devotees with her mantle was a theme of Cistercian origin described by Césaire de Heiterbach in his Dialogus Miraculorum (1230-1240), and it was soon adopted by other religious orders. This iconography, thus, was widely spread in the Middle Ages but wasn’t so popular during the Spanish Golden Age. Although it appears in El Greco’s “Madonna of Charity” from 1603-1605, it wasn’t a commonly commissioned theme by the end of the 17th century. Though medieval in origin and composition, Zurbarán here addressed the topic with great monumentality and naturalism. He depicted the volumes of the lighted portions of the scene using a careful gradient between light and dark, without the need for marked shadows.
Under the dove of the Holy Spirit, Mary stands, monumental, with wide open arms. She wears an imperial crown, her face expresses both tenderness and melancholy, and her outstretched cloak is held by an angel on either side. Her clothing has shades of pink for the tunic and blue for her mantle, embellished with an embroidered trimming of gold and pearls, and closed by a precious stone brooch over her chest. The monks appear static before the miracle, suggesting the silence of the Carthusian cloisters. Each monk is illuminated according to the place he occupies under the Virgin’s mantle, and their rigid habits are painted with what is known as the splendid “Zurbarán white”. The exquisite detail of roses and jasmines spread on the ground is possibly an allusion to the practice of the Rosary.
Another artist that Velázquez protected during his stay in Madrid was the painter and sculptor Alonso Cano, who we’ve mentioned before but as a talented architect and sculptor. Some of his paintings of the Virgin are beautiful, like the Virgin and Child (1642-1652), inspired by a print by Dürer, painted with gray and silver tones that show the influence of Velázquez. The religious paintings by Alonso Cano express both serenity and restfulness. In this work we can see clear evidences of the works by the masters of the time. We just mentioned that the composition is based on a well-known print by Dürer, the color palette employed by Cano resembles that used by Tiziano, and the figure of the Virgin is similar to those models made popular by Raphael.
He also painted excellent portraits, but he was too restless in the other arts he practiced (namely architecture and sculpture) to be able to elevate his painting to a greater perfection. Portraits attributed with certainty to Alonso Cano are very rare. Among them, two are of ecclesiastics. In this Portrait of an Ecclesiastic (ca. 1625-1630), Cano depicted the sitter holding a book with his finger marking a page. This motif was also employed before by El Greco in his famous “Portrait of Fray Hortensio Félix Paravicino” (ca. 1609). In this painting, the dignified figure of the young sitter fixes his penetrating stare at the viewer, while the sands run out in the hourglass he holds in his right hand.
Made to be seen from bottom to top, Ideal portrait of a Spanish King (ca. 1640) was part of a series on the Castilian-Leonese dynasty, painted by several artists, destined to decorate the king’s bedroom or ‘Room of the Furies’ of the Alcázar of Madrid. Not much is known about the source of inspiration for this painting. The King’s figure is designed to be seen from below, so the foreshortening is clearly accentuated, as is the illusionistic effect of placing him as if emerging from the painting itself. Also unique are the rich ornamentation and baroque style of the setting and the king’s costume, which appear medieval although they are not. All these aspects contribute to giving the painting a cartoonish and theatrical character. Alonso Cano was often inspired by engravings by other painters to create his own compositions. In fact, Ideal Portrait of a Spanish King was modeled after a painting by Rubens that represented a seated figure of Charles V.
St. John the Evangelist (1636) belonged to an altarpiece originally commissioned for the convent of Santa Paula in Seville. Here, Saint John appears in the attitude of expelling the demon from the chalice. His right hand is foreshortened, and his figure fits the compositional space perfectly, projecting his right leg and left arm towards the viewer, which accentuates the dynamism of his figure. As one of his Sevillian works, this painting by Cano appears to be influenced by a marked tenebrism, undoubtedly influenced by Ribera and Caravaggio.
(Musée du Louvre, Paris).
St. John the Evangelist on Pathmos (1646-1650) represents the moment when John the Evangelist, who had gone into exile on the island of Pathmos, has the vision that he narrates in the book of the Apocalypse, which he is there writing: “A great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, the moon under her feet and on her head a crown of twelve stars. She was pregnant and screamed in pain in the trance of childbirth, another sign appeared in the sky: an enormous red dragon, with seven heads and ten horns and seven turbans on its heads. With its tail it dragged a third of the stars in the sky and threw them to the earth”. In this painting, Cano represented the Evangelist as a youthful visionary in a characteristic Baroque, diagonal position. This pose will return, though not in Saints, but in the portraits of poets made during the Romantic period in the 19th century, as a way to represent the sacred moment of inspiration.
The Artistic Adventure of Mankind 