Parky At the Pictures (11/11/2025)

(Review of Exhibition on Screen: Caravaggio)

For film folk whose touchstone on Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio is Derek Jarman's stylised 1986 biopic, co-directors David Bickerstaff and Phil Grabsky have a surprise in store in Caravaggio, the latest entry in the enduringly excellent Exhibition on Screen series, which took five years to complete.

Aboard a ship sailing from Sicily to Rome in 1610, Caravaggio (Jack Bannell) rages against his fate. Once the artistic star of the Eternal City, he has been brought low by the temperament with which God has cursed him. He had been born in Milan in 29 September 1591 and, over Pierre Mignard's `Saint Charles Borromeo Administering the Sacrament to Plague Victims' (1576), academics Helen Langdon and Fabio Scaletti speculate about the extent to which conditions within the city during Caravaggio's childhood shaped his tempestuous character. When the family sought sanctuary in the town of Caravaggio, his father and grandfather died on the same day. He was apprenticed to Simone Peterzano (`Adoration of the Shepherds', 1578-82), who claimed to be a disciple of Titian and this Venetian influence proved key to Caravaggio's developing style.

On reaching Rome, however, he had to settle for painting poppies in the works of more established artists and Letizia Treves from Christie's suggests that he hopped between workshops taking what employment and ideas he could. As we see `Boy Peeling a Fruit' (1592-93), Caravaggio complains about subsisting on salad with Pandolfo Pucci, the priest he lodged with. However, with Sixtus V determined to restore Rome to its former glories after being sacked by Charles V in 1527, there was plenty of work in churches and the various courts of the clergy and residing dignitaries and ambassadors.

Caravaggio was fortunate to find a place with Giuseppe Cesari (`The Annunciation'), even though he felt ill-suited to his Mannerist style. Artist Stephen Nelson notes, however, that the post allowed Caravaggio to develop his own approach in early works like `Boy With a Basket of Fruit' (c.1593) and `The Musicians' (c.1595). His output remained unconventional after he secured the patronage of Cardinal Francesco Maria del Monte and moved into his grand palace. Here, he created the likes of `The Fortune Teller' (c.1594) and `The Lute Player' (c.1596), which were filled with beautiful young men, which Nelson avers appealed to clerical clients who kept them in their boudoirs. He also painted himself in `Bacchus' (aka `Sick Bacchus', 1593-94) to hint at his own predilections, although he toned down the subject matter in `Bacchus' (c.1596) to comment on the perils of excess and the impermanence of beauty. Scaletti notes that Caravaggio liked to party and considers his dalliances with men and women before we come to the National Gallery to see `Boy Bitten By a Lizard' (1593-94), which Treves seeks to interpret while highlighting Caravaggio's tendency to paint from life and his flair for depicting light (as well as his liking for still lifes at a time when human figures were more highly prized).

Painted for the open market, works like this and `Medusa' (c.1597) point to Caravaggio's understanding of the darker side of Rome, with its largely male population and its thriving red light district (the Ortacchio). It was here that he met Fillide Melandron, the prostitute who posed for `Saint Catherine of Alexandria' (c.1598), which Langdon identifies as a landmark work because of the sexual tension introduced by the inclusion in a representation of a virginal saint of a duelling rapier. The love of the kind of lowlife taverns shown in `The Cardsharps' (c.1594) also led Caravaggio to Mario Minniti, the 16 year-old Sicilian artist who became a regular sitter and a close friend. The rundown parts of the city fascinated Caravaggio and he found it difficult to stay out of drunken brawls, as he confides to camera before joking about how much Fillide had enjoyed posing for `Judith Beheading Holofernes' (c.1598-99 or 1602). He tuts about the hours spent getting the angle of the head right and declares that such works brought a new truth to art at a time when the majority of commissions in Rome were for religious subjects.

But Caravaggio revealed that it was possible to tackle these in a new way, with the three pictures commissioned for the Contarelli Chapel in the church of San Luigi dei Francesi: `The Calling of Saint Matthew'; `The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew' (both 1599-1600); and `The Inspiration of Saint Matthew' (1602). Langdon claims this triptych brought a new gestural element to painting and introduced an ambiguity that still makes them feel so audacious. Having witnessed the burning of heretical Domenican friar, Giordano Bruno, he included himself in the martyrdom scene because he was aware he was a sinner, although Langdon insists that he also had a faith in the Christ who came to redeem the poor and overlooked.

Langdon explains how the Catholic Reformation sought to emphasise the drama of the biblical stories to highlight the cleansing reforms taking place. Two fine examples are `The Conversion of Saint Paul' (1600-01) and `The Crucifixion of Saint Peter' (c.1601-02), which overshadow Annibale Carracci's `Assumption of the Virgin Mary' (1600-01)

in the Cerasi Chapel in the Basilica di Santa Maria del Popolo. Nelson and Treves examine the use of light to stress revelation and suffering in the respective pictures, with those nailing Peter upside down to his cross straining with the effort of their task, The drama is less taxing, but equally compelling in `Supper At Emmaus' (c.1600-01), which finds a resurrectional companion in `The Incredulity of Saint Thomas' (c.1601). Treves shows how the composition of these images leaves room for the viewer and this inclusivity was very much a key trait.

Peering into the camera, Caravaggio informs us that he needed his rapier to stay safe from his enemies so that his brush could earn him favour with powerful patrons. He channels this sense of villainy into `The Taking of Christ' (c.1602), in which he appears as one of the onlookers as a reluctant Judas kisses a disappointed Jesus. Nelson notes that much of our knowledge about Caravaggio comes from police records, but he fails to see how a crude thug could have produced work of such beauty and insight. Langdon takes up this idea in indicating the sophistication of `Amor Vincit Omnia' (1601-02), while Treves claims him as a revolutionary in terms of form and content over `Saint John the Baptist' (1602).

Over `Deposition of Christ' (c.1603-04), Caravaggio agonises on his voyage back to Rome about whether he will be protected by those he has served, such as those for whom he painted `Madonna di Loreto' (c.1604-06) in the Cavalletti Chapel of the Church of Sant'Agostino. Holden marvels at the way in which Caravaggio deploys ordinary people in his works, with the pilgrims kneeling before Mary and her wriggling baby having dirty feet. He also likes the fact that he used neighbours for models, even in works as sanctified as `Ecce Homo' (c.1605). Yet, as Langdon attests, occasional items were rejected, with `Death of the Virgin' (1601-06) being turned down by the Carmelite church of Santa Maria della Scala because the subject ran contrary to the doctrine of the Assumption.

This was completed shortly before the skirmish that led to the death of Ranuccio Tommasoni, an enforcer for a wealthy family who demanded a death penalty for Caravaggio. He was able to hide with the Colonna family, who arranged for him to flee to Naples, where he was safe because papal law did not apply in Spanish territory. The throb of daily life, together with amount of work on offer, suited Caravaggio down to the ground and his response to his new home is evident in `The Seven Works of Mercy' (1606-07), which was created for the Pio Monte della Misericordia. Other important altarpieces, such as `The Flagellation of Christ' (1607) and `The Crucifixion of Saint Andrew' (1606-07), brought unparalleled fame in the city. Yet, he also captured the plight of the poor and made more enemies with his behaviour. Having queered his pitch, Caravaggio was forced to seek sanctuary with Alof de Wignacourt and the Knights of St John in Malta. We see `Portrait of Alof de Wignacourt and His Page' (1607-08), as Caravaggio reveals how the Frenchman tried to intercede for him in Rome and secure a pardon for Tommasoni's death. He also helped with the commission from St John's Co-Cathedral in Valetta for `The Beheading of Saint John the Baptist' (1607-08), which is his biggest picture and one of the few he signed.

Yet, he couldn't keep out of trouble and a contretemps with a fellow knight landed him in prison. He managed to escape and set sail for Sicily, where he was welcomed with open arms because the cathedral was being renovated and he was able to contribute The Burial of Saint Lucy' (1608) for the altar. As Langdon notes, this shared with `The Raising of Lazarus' (c.1609) an extensive area of darkness above the figures in the composition.

Along with `The Adoration of the Shepherds' (1609), this reflects his continuing empathy with the marginalised, but it also suggests the influence of the fear he felt for his life, having provoked so many important people.

Indeed, he couldn't remain on Sicily for long and was wounded in an attack in Naples. Laying low, he became obsessed with decapitations on `Salome With the Head of John the Baptist' (c.1609) and `David With the Head of Goliath' (1609-10), while the sombre mood extends into The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula' (1610), which turned out to be his final picture. He was travelling with items like `The Denial of Saint Peter' (1610) in the hope they would return him to favour with Cardinal Scipione Borghese in Rome after he had been pardoned. However, he never arrived, dying of an unknown cause on 18 July 1610 at Porto Ercole, near Grosseto in Tuscany. Caravaggio had lived just 36 years, nine months and 20 days. His remains have never been found, but his artistry lives on.

Having stated in opening captions that Caravaggio was not a man of letters, David Bickerstaff and Phil Grabsky decide to shroud their subject in trademark chiaroscuro lighting and let him address the audience directly. They are fortunate that Jack Bannell resembles the painter much more closely than Nigel Terry in Jarman's Caravaggio and Riccardo Scamarcio in Michele Placido's Caravaggio's Shadow (2022). But, while the conspiratorially charismatic Bannell reigns himself in when it comes to boastful bombast, the monologue's mix of the archaic and the anachronistic never quite gels. Moreover, the decision to shoot in full-facial close-up for the rhetorical set-up of a remark before cutting to a pay-off delivered with Bannell glancing back to the left proves resistibly mannered. Yet the one-man-show gambit works better than expected and complements the insights of the excellent talking-heads, who wear their expertise as lightly as their enthusiasm.

As ever, with an Exhibition on Screen excursion, the presentation of the artworks is impeccable, with the camera deftly conveying the scale and placement of the church pieces before closing in for telling details. Somewhat surprisingly, given the influence of Caravaggio's tenebrist style, little attention is devoted to his technique or his mode of studio working. More might also have been said in conclusion about the artists who were influenced by his use of light and shade and the reasons why he has avoided cancellation in spite of his rap sheet.

Where the film really excels, however, is in the way it places Caravaggio's concerns and career within the context of the Counter-Reformation and its revised religious ideology. The speakers also ably convey the sense of decline that Caravaggio witnessed in Milan and Rome, although they might have mentioned a few more contemporaries to give the viewer an idea of who he was competing against for commissions and just how much he towered over rivals who operated in a more conventional workshop environment and chose their models from more salubrious backgrounds. Bickerstaff and Grabsky wisely avoid getting bogged down in a discussion about Caravaggio's sexuality. But, given the centrality of police records in the piecing together of the artist's biography, a bit more on his bad boy antics might not have gone amiss.

As it is, this is yet another intelligent, informative, and engaging introduction to the life and work of a major figure in art history. May there be many more.