Numerous legends have embellished the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt recorded in Matthew 2:13-15. Seventeenth-century artist Bartolommeo Guidobono’s depiction draws upon one of the most intriguing.
Tag Archives: Italian art
The Return from the Flight into Egypt
Oil on canvas, c. 1712
Giuseppe Bartolomeo Chiari
Roman, 1654-1727
Rome was for centuries the epicenter of culture, art, and religion. At the time of Giuseppe Chiari’s birth, it was also “the scene of a lively debate with a constantly varying interplay of influences, trends, fashions, specialized treatises, and, of course, great masterpieces” (Zuffi, p. 64). At the center of this debate were three artistic movements that Zuffi notes “succeeded one another in a sort of ideal relay race of artistic styles.” The stark naturalism of Caravaggio, the elegant classicism of Annibale Carracci, and the dramatic baroque sculptures and architecture of Gian Lorenzo Bernini would all play a part in making 17th-century Rome—well, Rome!
As president of the Roman Academy Carlo Maratta was keenly aware of these lively debates. Considered one of the most important painters in the latter half of the 17th century, he was much admired for his beautiful frescos and stunning portraits. Although his work evidenced a clear admiration for the classical tradition, several of his paintings also integrated elements of Caravaggio’s vigorous style. David Steel points out that Maratta often “managed to steer a middle course between these two dominant and often contrary trends of baroque painting” (Steel, p. 88).
Maratta was at the summit of his career in 1666 when 12-year-old Giuseppe Chiari entered the great master’s studio. Chiari soon became a star pupil. Over the years, his profound respect for Maratta’s tutelage would not only shape his artistic development but also ensure his future success in a highly competitive environment. When Maratta died in 1713, Chiari took up Maratta’s mantle and became the dominant Roman artist.
Like Maratta, Chiari broadened his appeal by becoming an astute observer and deft practitioner of integrating stylistic trends. Kathrine and William Wallace highlight this skill in their comparative analysis of Chiari’s Tedallini altarpiece with Caravaggio’s Madonna dei Pellegrini [figs. 1 and 2]:
“The statuesque pose of Chiari’s Madonna, the unusually high step on which she stands, the elongated form of the Christ child framed by a white swaddling cloth, and the overall right-triangular composition recall Caravaggio’s Madonna dei Pellegrini. Yet the suggestion is subtle: Chiari has reversed the composition, naturalized the pose of the Virgin, and substituted the more palatable, well-dressed saints for the dirty feet and common character of Caravaggio’s pilgrims. Although inspired by Caravaggio, Chiari’s altarpiece remains distinctly his own. Chiari’s Madonna looks like a person of warm flesh and blood rather than the marmoreal statue of Caravaggio’s Madonna; Christ is an attractive child of sweet disposition as opposed to the enormous and ungainly figure depicted by the older master. Instead of the muted and earthy colors of the Madonna dei Pellegrini, Chiari’s bright hues are immediately pleasing and a welcome contrast to the comparatively dark paintings found on so many Roman altars” (p. 4).
The Return from the Flight into Egypt provides another example of Chiari’s virtuosity and unique style. Here, however, he turns from echoing the past to adumbrating the future. The refined handling of the paint and elegant figural poses pay homage to the classical tradition; however, the playfulness, delicate coloration, and ornamental enrichment mark the transition into the sensuous, intimate style of the rococo movement which emerged in France and spread throughout Europe in the 18th century (Chilvers, 507).
M&G has two works by Chiari on this subject, one titled The Rest on the Flight into Egypt and this rendering titled The Return from the Flight into Egypt. Over the years scholars have found the less traditional title of this 1712 work problematic. However, “the light-hearted, almost celebratory mood” (echoed in the Rococo style) reinforce the idea that here, Chiari intends to highlight the family’s return from rather than flight into Egypt. Regardless of the debate, art experts like Christopher Johns note that this picture may be the best example of Chiari’s work in America.
Donnalynn Hess, M&G Director of Education
Resources:
Baroque Paintings from the Bob Jones University Collection by David H. Steel
Concise Dictionary of Art and Artists, 3rd edition by Ian Chilvers
“Giuseppe Bartolomeo Chiari,” The Art Bulletin, March, 1968, Vol. 50, No. 1 by Bernhard Kerber and Franciscono Renate
“Seeing Chiari Clearly,” Artibus Et Historiae, 2012, Vol. 33, No. 66 by Katherine M. Wallace and William Wallace
Published 2024
The Coronation of the Virgin
Antonio Checchi (called Guidaccio da Imola)
Below the image, click play to listen.
In this altarpiece featuring the Madonna and Christ child, the artist includes several details to embellish the scene, including a child playing a lute. Learn more about this popular Renaissance instrument HERE.
St. Anthony of Padua
Bolognese, 17th century
Below the image, click play to listen.
Christ the Redeemer
Oil on panel, c. 1545
Paris Bordone
Venetian, 1500-1571
Museums are filled with works of art of all shapes and sizes. Of course, the large paintings immediately grab a viewer’s attention. However, it is sometimes the small pieces that bring viewers in close and create intimate connections. One of these examples from the Museum & Gallery is a work called Christ the Redeemer. It is a half-length portrait of Christ holding a book, and with its frame it is only around 18 inches by 15 inches. Despite its somewhat simple subject matter and small stature, this painting draws you in and raises questions.
One question woven into the work is the identification of the artist. Various art historians confirm its sixteenth-century Venetian origins because of its color palette and brushwork. When the painting originally became part of the Museum collection in 1954, the artist attached to it was the Venetian Renaissance master Titian. Regarded by his contemporaries as “The Sun Amidst Small Stars,” Titian had a successful career throughout his life and his studio became one of the most influential of the Italian Renaissance. There are specific similarities between Titian’s other portraits of Christ and this Christ the Redeemer such as facial features, the treatment of the hands, as well as previous miniatures created by Titian—which seem to confirm the master’s authorship. However, more recent art historians claim that while the panel is certainly Titianesque, the more likely artist is another Venetian painter, Paris Bordone. Bordone studied under Titian and emulated the master’s style so well that many of Bordone’s works have been misattributed to Titian’s hand. He may not have had as glittering a career as Titian, but Bordone was a successful painter, earning respect and fame during his lifetime.
Another question is the iconography of the painting. The portrait of Christ with a book is not an uncommon one. It reflects the words from John 1:1, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” Since Early Christian art, Christ has been shown either enthroned in majesty or surrounded by various saints holding a book, which is more than likely the Gospels. What becomes interesting is this iconography continues in Eastern Orthodox art, but becomes rare in post-Medieval Western art. One reason Bordone may have included this iconography is because it was similar to another kind of portrait—a scholar. Portraits of scholarly gentlemen or philosophers were common across Italy. M&G includes an example of these portraits with Giambattista Tiepolo’s A Philosopher Holding a Book. Using a familiar portrait pose, viewers could relate to Christ in the context of the ultimate Rabbi and teacher.
Another reason Bordone may have chosen this pose and iconography is because of its size and purpose. Less than two feet on each side, this painting is a perfect example of a cabinet painting. From the fifteenth century on, wealthy patrons would purchase these small, detailed paintings to hang in small, intimate spaces in their vast homes. These spaces, called cabinets, functioned as small offices or sitting rooms. Because of its size, the cabinet painting draws the viewer in and creates an intimate connection. Knowing this, it is understandable why Bordone may have created Christ in such a pose. It allows the viewer an opportunity to sit one-on-one with the Master Rabbi.
No matter the reasoning of the iconography or even which artist created the work, Christ the Redeemer is an intriguing painting. Like its original purpose, the small panel captivates the viewer. Maybe it will also cause the viewer to ask questions. Maybe it will draw the viewer closer to Christ as the ultimate teacher and incarnate Word in flesh.
KC Christmas Beach, M&G summer educator
Published 2024
This intriguing 18th-century painting provides a valuable reminder for all of us to consider our choices in light of a coming eternity.
Crucifix
Tempera and gold on panel, c. 1380
Francesco di Vannuccio
Sienese, active c. 1356-1389
Among the many treasures in M&G’s collection hangs a unique and exemplary example of late fourteenth-century Italian art. In 1374, the Black Death struck the city of Siena and its surrounding countryside for the third time in twenty-six years. The return of the plague devastated the city, which was already struggling from political and economic instability. Tragically, most of the victims of this wave of the Black Death were children. In the wake of this period of grief, an unknown patron commissioned Sienese artist Francesco di Vannuccio to paint a crucifix or croce dipinta (painted cross) for his or her church. During the fourteenth century, large painted crucifixes were a fixture in Italian churches. They depicted Christ dead on the cross flanked by Mary and John the Evangelist and were often highly decorated in gold. Positioned above the altar, these crucifixes provided a focal point for worshippers.
Francesco’s patron included an unusual request: the image of Mary Magdalene facing out toward the worshipper with her hands raised in the ancient orans pose of prayer. Of the 214 surviving Italian fourteenth-century crucifixes, only fourteen have Mary Magdalene present. Of those, only one intact crucifix, M&G’s, features this extremely rare imagery of Mary Magdalene. With its unique depiction of a ministering female saint, Francesco’s crucifix was born out of the need for spiritual solace in the aftermath of the Black Death.
Little is known about Francesco di Vannuccio. Few of his paintings survive. He signed only one work, a double-sided panel now housed in Berlin’s Gemäldegalerie. Despite this small surviving body of work, all of Francesco’s paintings demonstrate that he possessed a keen eye for intricate decoration. He was also closely attuned to the religious concerns of his day. Francesco’s depictions of physical and emotional suffering made him stand out among his fellow artists. In his crucifix, Christ’s arms are pulled taut by the weight of His body. His fingers curl and His feet twist around the piercing nails. Blood spurts in a wide arc from the wound in His chest and drips from His head, hands, and feet. While other crucifixes show the mother of Christ serenely grieving, Francesco painted her face deeply lined in anguish. Poignantly, she reaches for her Son, something not seen in any other fourteenth-century crucifixes. Francesco’s Mary is a mother mourning the loss of her Child, a sight many worshippers would have personally related to following the third outbreak of the Black Death.
Beneath Christ’s feet, Mary Magdalene prays. Despite being one of the most popular female saints during the fourteenth century, Mary Magdalene’s presence in crucifixes is rare. Most depict her small in scale contemplating the cross. She does not directly engage with the worshipper as Francesco’s does. During the fourteenth century, Mary Magdalene was revered both as the “blessed sinner” (tradition combined her with the repentant sinful woman in Luke 7) and as the “apostle to the apostles” because of her encounter with the resurrected Christ and her role of spreading the news to His other followers. Painting the blood flowing down to her head and her bright red robes, Francesco depicted Mary Magdalene as being baptized in Christ’s blood. With her hands raised in the orans position and facing the worshipper, Francesco also depicted her as the “apostle to the apostles.” The ancient orans pose represented the worshipper’s openness to God’s grace and was a gestural expression of faith in Christ’s death and resurrection. By the fourteenth century, this prayer position was reserved solely for the clergy. Thus, Francesco’s Mary Magdalene is an apostle actively ministering to the worshippers.
Painting Mary Magdalene in this active role, Francesco and his patron were likely inspired by Catherine of Siena (1347-1380). Catherine was a writer and preacher who advocated spiritual reform. She was beloved for her piety and her healing the sick during the third wave of the Black Death. In her ministry, Catherine looked to Mary Magdalene as an example of religious devotion and service. Writing to her female followers, she urged them to “follow the Magdalen, that lovely woman in love, who never let go of the tree of the most holy cross. No, with perseverance she was bathed in the blood of God’s Son…she so filled her memory and heart and understanding with it that she became incapable of loving anything but Christ Jesus.” Mary Magdalene’s love for Christ drove her to brave the Roman soldiers guarding the tomb and proclaim the news of the Resurrection to anyone who would listen.
For worshippers living in the grief-filled years of the late fourteenth century, the sight of Mary Magdalene offered comfort both in the cleansing power of Christ’s sacrifice and His Resurrection. Almost six and a half centuries later, the message of Francesco di Vannuccio’s gleaming cross continues to resonate today.
Dr. Allison Wynne Raper, Adjunct Instructor at York Technical College
For further reading:
Ole J. Benedictow. The Complete History of the Black Death. Woodbridge, Suffolk: The Boydell Press, 2021.
Catherine of Siena. The Letters of Catherine of Siena. Translated by Suzanne Noffke, O.P. 4 Volumes. Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2000-2008.
Katherine Ludwig Janson. The Making of the Magdalene: Preaching and Popular Devotion in Late Medieval Italy. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2000.
Published 2024
