Caravaggio's Last Painting
Martyrdom of St. Ursula
My recent trip to Naples gave me the opportunity to see three Caravaggio paintings. His paintings have a lot in common with the city of Naples—arresting, dramatic, and unforgettable. Perhaps the least well-known is the last painting completed months before his death in 1610, the Martyrdom of St. Ursula.
Palazzo Zevallos Stigliano houses the Gallerie d’Italia, a museum so unexpectedly modern with spacious, beautiful displays. When I approached a taxi stand to ask for a ride to the Gallerie d’Italia, a gaggle of drivers debated in Neapolitan to weigh in where this museum might be located. They agreed on a building near the crowded and busy Via Toledo; when I entered the Galleria, it was virtually empty of visitors. With a focus on seventeenth-century to modern Neapolitan art, Caravaggio was one of their stars but not the only one.
Caravaggio visited Naples twice while on the run from the law, after murdering a man in Rome. During his last stay, he painted St. Ursula for the Genoese patron Marc Antonio Doria. After murdering Ranuccio Tomassoni in 1606, he fled to Naples, then Malta, Sicily, then back to Naples, awaiting a papal pardon for his crime. Shortly before painting Ursala, he once again had a violent encounter. A group of men took an honor retaliation for Caravaggio’s attack on a knight in Malta. His face was violently slashed, disfiguring him. The wound may have led to his death months later.
This modestly sized painting is best viewed close-up. Figures emerge from a dark background devoid of landscape or setting. Ursala looks down, in disbelief, at an arrow in her chest. Her skin is pale. The King of the Huns stands to her left, having just released his arrow. He shows little emotion. Ursala and the Hun’s red robes unify the composition and entice the eye back and forth to each figure. Legend says she refused his hand in marriage, resulting in her murder, or that she, along with 11,000 virgins and the pope, were approaching Cologne when they were murdered by the Huns.
Caravaggio chose the moment when her death would be the most dramatic. Three other figures appear as onlookers. One accomplice wears armor with his back to the viewer. Another sees what has happened but has no emotion or expression in the center of the painting. A hand reaches out between Ursala and the King, but too late to stop the murder.
Caravaggio, Martyrdom of St. Ursula, 1610, Gallerie d'Italia, Naples, photos Gerriann Brower.
A bearded man just above Ursala’s shoulder looks up in horror, with his mouth agape. This is Caravaggio’s final self-portrait, the fifth time he places himself role-playing in religious paintings. An element of desperation or anguish prevails in his expression. He does not reveal the wounds on his face and appears almost dazed. His presence continues a theme of self-representation in religious scenes. Seven years earlier, he portrayed himself in the Betrayal of Christ. The composition closely resembled the Ursala painting, and he painted himself in a nearly identical upper right corner position, with his mouth ajar. However, in the Ursala painting, he looks older, thinner, and unwell.
A few themes emerge from his self-portrayals. Caravaggio’s lawlessness and violent behavior were well known. He appears as a sinner, interjected in a religious scene in acknowledgement of his misdeeds, asking for grace and redemption. In another sense, he portrays himself negatively, as a proud man who has sinned but appears without contrition. Remember when he painted himself as the headless Goliath with “humility kills pride” written on David’s sword?
Were these calculated performances for patrons? Was he looking for salvation or even care? One can surmise he had a complicated relationship with Christianity, the church, and sin. He never appears with compassion or grace. Humility is absent. His self-portraits raise questions about his motives and make his paintings very modern in their intentional self-reflection.
Sources
Hibbard, Howard. Caravaggio. Westview Press, 1983.
Puglisi, Catherine. Caravaggio. Phaidon, 2000.
Thomas, Troy. Caravaggio and the Creation of Modernity. Reaktion Books, 2016.
