Art Throb #2: The Entombement of Christ by Caravaggio
Caravaggio: The Entombment of Christ (1602-3), Pinacoteca Vaticana, Vatican City
To be honest, it could have been any Caravaggio - I love them all - but I chose this one because of the impact it had on me and my husband. It was August 2009; we'd been Caravaggio-hunting in Rome and had already seen plenty in the church of Santa Maria del Popolo and the Borghese gallery. We weren't expecting to see this, but while on a tour of the Vatican we were walking through the museums - rooms and rooms of statues, sculpture, paintings, frescoes, tombs, tapestries, maps and ceramics by all the great artists past and present, leading to the Sistine Chapel. It was turning out to be a long hot day and I was starting to suffer from art overload as piece after priceless piece slid past my eyes in a blur. But then we walked into a small room and saw this.
At 300 cm × 203 cm, this is a big painting (the body of Christ is over seven feet long). Meant for a large space - a chapel - and to be seen by a large congregation, its positioning in this small Vatican room forced a unique interaction between painting and viewer. Staring out of the painting, the central figure Nicodemus breaks the fourth wall, thus making the viewer an active participant in its drama. In fact, part of the genius of this painting is, I feel, that it makes viewers feel as if they are actually present at this monumental moment in history. The way Nicodemus looks at you - his gleaming brow hinting at the physical exertion of the task - makes you want to apologise for walking in on this sacred moment.
In the Gospels, Christ's body is said to have been begged from Pilate by Joseph of Arimathea, who wrapped it it in a shroud and laid it in a tomb, which he sealed with a large stone. Matthew and Mark say Mary Magdalene and Mary the Mother of Jesus were also present, while John also includes Nicodemus, who anointed Jesus' body with spices. This painting however brings together three Marys, who feature left to right - Mary the Mother of Jesus (here looking quite old), Mary Magdalene (with bare shoulders) and Mary Cleophas (whose outstretched arms recall the pose of the crucifixion). The male figure holding Christ around the shoulders on the left, and with his fingers in his wound as if feeling the texture of his blood, is St John, while Nicodemus, standing perilously close to the edge of the stone, helps lower Christ in. This stone juts out three-dimensionally almost out of the painting into the space beyond the frame.
The fan-like composition of the characters across the canvas is exquisite, but must have been difficult for Caravaggio's models to hold for very long. This too is part of what there is to marvel at (I wonder if there was originally meant to be an additional character above St John, as there is a strange shadowy shape that looks like it may have been brushed out). I also love the realism of the characters, particularly Nicodemus - that sweaty, lined face and heavy legs bulging with veins. The fact that Caravaggio dressed his Biblical figures in clothes which were contemporary to him was also revolutionary, and quite shocking in a time when Biblical figures were supposed to be remote and distant. Here he brings them smack-bang into his present.
I don't think I've ever been so affected by a painting as I was that day when we bumped into this one. Not so much a painting as a confrontation, it was like being punched in the stomach. We stood gawping at it for so long the rest of the party had to come looking for us. I never knew a painting could do so much.
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