Paintings of Caravaggio Trivia Quiz

Answer: Sick

Caravaggio here, interestingly, portrays the god of wine and merriment in very human terms as a sick young man. He is recognizable by his crown of vine leaves (slightly withered) and classical drapery, but his skin is a sickly yellow in hue, and he gazes over his shoulder at the viewer with a wan half-smile on his lips.

In one hand, he clutches a bunch of grapes (a remedy against too much wine?). This painting contrasts sharply with Caravaggio's later painting of Bacchus (c. 1597), using another model, as the picture of blooming, voluptuous health, holding a brimming glass of wine and crowned with a splendid cockade of rather autumnal, but still vibrant vine leaves. Caravaggio's use of himself in his paintings is always interesting and somewhat revealing; in the "Sick Bacchus", he appears to beseech the viewer to pardon his human frailty.

Answer: The Rest on the Flight Into Egypt

The angel is playing a melody to sooth the sleeping Madonna and her Child. St. Joseph patiently holds the musical score for the angel to play from. The artist suggests the flowing melody by the graceful line of the flowing white drapery around the angel's otherwise nude form, making him almost resemble a treble clef. Note, in this painting, the rocky, barren ground under the feet of Joseph and the angel, whereas grass and vegetation bloom under the feet of Mary.

The angel's vertical form separates these two contrasting environments; for now, at any rate, Mary and her son can sleep in verdant comfort, whilst wakeful Joseph still inhabits the world of hardship and toil.

Answer: Medusa

Medusa was one of three sisters known as the Gorgons. Once a beautiful nymph, she profaned the temple of Athena and aroused the goddess's wrath. Athena turned her beautiful hair into hissing, deadly serpents and made her face so hideous that anyone who gazed upon it turned to stone. She was ultimately beheaded by the hero Perseus, who managed to avoid turning to stone by looking at her reflection in his shield. He presented her head to Athena, who placed it on her aegis.

Caravaggio's depiction was painted on a shield, appropriately enough, which was presented to the Grand Duke of Florence, who displayed it in his armory (it was, obviously, never intended to be used in combat). A precursor of the artist's many memorable depictions of scenes of violence, Caravaggio's "Medusa" eschews classical restraint; we can almost hear the death scream of the monstrous creature, and the horror of her staring eyes haunts the memory.

Answer: Prostitute

A beautiful woman from a respectable family in Siena, Fillide became a celebrated courtesan, whose lovers included some of the wealthiest and most powerful men in Italy. Caravaggio himself appears to have been enamoured of her, and it has been speculated that an argument over her may have precipitated the fateful brawl of 1606, in which the artist is said to have committed murder, and was subsequently banished from Rome. Caravaggio's portrait of her was painted at the bequest of Giulio Strozzi, whose mistress she was. His portrayal of her as the virgin martyr Catherine of Alexandria (c. 1599) may have raised a few eyebrows among those who knew of her reputation, but her depiction as the repentant Madgalene (c.1593) would have seemed more appropriate. According to tradition, the Magdalene was a wealthy courtesan who renounced the splendors of the world in order to follow Christ. Caravaggio touchingly depicts her seated on the floor, her cast off jewels lying beside her, her long hair hanging over one shoulder, in an attitude of sorrowful meditation.

Fillide herself was not inspired to any such acts of heroic renunciation; she acquired considerable position from her numerous "liaisons", and was quite as fiery in her own way as Caravaggio himself, once threatening a rival with a knife. Banished from Rome at one point at the behest of the family of Giulio Strozzi, who wished to prevent their marriage, she returned some years after Caravaggio's death and became one of the city's wealthiest citizens.

Answer: Judith Beheading Holofernes

The story of Judith appears in the apocryphal "Book of Judith". Judith was an attractive widow of the city of Bethulia, when it was besieged by the Assyrians. Judith seduced the Assyrian captain Holofernes, got him drunk, and beheaded him at night in his tent. Caravaggio's painting (c.1599) depicts Judith halfway through the act of beheading Holofernes. Blood spurts from his neck as he attempts to rise and to cry for help; his left hand convulsively grasping a corner of his bed sheet. Judith recoils from the violent act that she is committing and looks almost with pity at her victim. At her side, her elderly attendant watches with pitiless anticipation; a sack clutched in her hands ready to catch the head when it falls.

Although the word subtlety would scarcely seem to apply to this painting, it does have meaning far beyond its graphic depiction of violence. Judith here seems to be more victim than conqueror; her act of heroism is achieved at the expense of her human tenderness. Looking at her gentle, youthful features alongside the grim, remorseless face of the old woman beside her, one wonders if Judith's destiny is to become like her attendant, devoid of compassion and desirous only of revenge and self-preservation. There is also a purpose beyond the macabre in the artist's decision to depict the beheading at the halfway point; Judith has reached the point of no return; she may recoil, but cannot undo what she has begun.

Caravaggio's depiction of this scene is perhaps the best known of its many artistic incarnations, and almost certainly influenced at least one of Artemesia Gentileschi's depictions of the story of Judith; her 1620 painting is, in many respects, strikingly similar to Caravaggio's.

Answer: Matthew

The Contarelli chapel was named for the French Cardinal Matthieu Cointrel (or Matteo Contarelli, as he was known in Italy), who had purchased it in 1565 and dedicated it to his name saint. He had long wished to have the chapel decorated with scenes from St. Matthew's life, including his calling and martyrdom; his wish was not fulfilled until five years after his death, by Caravaggio.

Over the altar of the chapel hangs Caravaggio's depiction of St. Matthew writing his Gospel (the first book of the New Testament) inspired by an angel. To the left is the depiction of Christ calling Matthew to follow him as one of the chosen Twelve. According to Scripture Matthew, a tax collector, was in his counting-house when this occurred, but Caravaggio has him seated at what appears to be a gaming table, surrounded by rather louche (and, for the most part, much younger) companions. The extremely dim room (note the begrimed window at the back, through which no light can be seen) is suddenly illuminated by a shaft of light, emanating from just above Christ's head, and falling upon the men at table. Christ points to Matthew with a gesture recalling the life-giving hand of God as depicted by Michelangelo on the Sistine ceiling. Matthew points to himself incredulously, and Peter- with his back to us- echoes Christ's gesture questioningly. The classically draped figures of Christ and Peter contrast sharply with the others, who are dressed in the clothing of the artist's own day, emphasizing the contrast between timeless ideals and passing fashions.

The Martyrdom of St. Matthew, to the right of the altar, is another of Caravaggio's vivid depictions of violence and cruelty. According to tradition, Matthew was slain in Ethiopia while celebrating Mass, in retribution for having baptized and consecrated a young woman who had been the King's betrothed. Here, the assassin is dressed in the garb of a baptismal candidate, suggesting that he had posed as one in order to catch the saint unawares. Matthew has already been stabbed through the back (an act of cowardice as well as cruelty), and lies, mortally wounded, on the ground, his hand lifted in a gesture both defensive and forgiving. The assassin bends over the dying old man, seizing his raised hand, and readying his sword for another blow. As with "Judith and Holofernes", the action of this scene is so vivid that one can almost hear the savage invective pouring from the open mouth of the enraged assassin, as well as the cry of terror uttered by a fleeing acolyte at the right. Special points of interest in this painting are the candle flames on the altar just over the murderer's head (emphasizing the heat of his fury?), and a self-portrait of the artist himself at the rear, gazing in sadness over the killer's shoulder, as if reflecting upon his own violent nature.

Answer: false

There are at least two still-life paintings known to be the work of Caravaggio: the well-known "Basket of Fruit" (c. 1601) and the "Still-Life with Fruit" (c. 1605). An earlier painting entitled "Still-Life with Flowers and Fruit" has been attributed to Caravaggio, but this attribution has been seriously disputed. Taken side by side, the "Still Life" and "Basket of Fruit" illustrate the two aspects of Caravaggio's art.

The fruits depicted in the "Still Life" are gloriously ripe, spilling in abundance over the corner of the overflowing table; the quartered melons and the pumpkins and pomegranates bursting with ripeness practically beg to be savored. Only a few black spots on one of the apples suggests that the decay of this very ripeness is imminent.

In the earlier "Basket of Fruit", the subject is precariously perched on a ledge against the rather pitiless background of a bright yellow, plastered wall. The basket is a shallow one, and the fruits- with leaves and vines still attached- overflows it only slightly.

Much of the fruit (with the exception of a few green and decidedly under-ripe figs) is spotted with black and bears the marks made by worms and other insects, while the grapes are clearly on the verge of over-ripeness. Moreover the leaves and trailing vine stems bear the unmistakable marks of insect depredations and fungal diseases. These two quite different artistic treatments of similar subject matter display Caravaggio's ability, with equal skill and ease, to portray glorious beauty and wholesomeness, and its direct opposite.

Answer: The Conversion of St. Paul

The two versions of the "Conversion of St. Paul" were painted roughly a year apart; the first version in 1600, the second around 1601. Caravaggio painted a "Crucifixion of St. Peter" and a "Conversion of St. Paul" at the request of Cardinal Tiberio Cerasi for the chapel named for him in the church of Santa Maria del Popolo. Cerasi rejected both upon their completion, requesting that the artist submit another version of each. His reasons for doing so are unclear, but in the case of the "Conversion", the result was one of Caravaggio's finest works. The first version, though not without merit, is confused, crowded, and rather melodramatic. Saul, depicted as an elderly, bearded man, lies on the ground covering his eyes, which have been blinded by a sudden radiance. His startled horse is restrained (with difficulty) by an accompanying soldier. From the top right of the canvas, the figure of Christ seems to burst through the sky, as through a hole in a stage backdrop. Christ gestures dramatically(and rather pointlessly) to the blinded Saul. Saul's companion points a threatening spear at the vision, which seems to illustrate Christ's famous query "Why persecutest thou me?"

The second version, by contrast, is a marvel of simplicity and economy of means. There are only two human figures and the horse. The stricken Saul, a much younger man than in the first version, lies on his back and reaches blindly upward toward the voice that rebukes him. Saul/Paul's outstretched hands and closed eyes tell us that he has been struck blind, and the light which bathes his prostrate form is the only indication of the Divine presence. The riderless horse carefully steps over Saul's legs, guided by the elderly groom, who gazes at his stricken master with wonder and pity. In addition to its greater coherence, the second version is also more faithful to the Scriptural account: Saul did not actually see a vision, he was blinded by a sudden light and heard a loud voice. The decision to make him a younger man makes greater sense when one notes that Paul lived for another thirty years after his conversion, and accomplished a great deal before his martyrdom in about 65 A.D. His outstretched arms suggest the pose of the crucified Christ, calling to mind Paul's own, later words in his Epistle to the Galatians "...For by His cross the world is crucified to me, and I am crucified to the world." (Gal. 6:14).

Answer: The Death of the Virgin

Caravaggio was contracted to paint the "Death of the Virgin" for the church of Santa Maria de la Scala" in 1601 by the lawyer Laerzio Cherubini. The painting was completed in 1603, but was greeted with outrage by the church's resident Discalced Carmelite friars. They were shocked by the apparent lack of reverence in the depiction of the Virgin; Caravaggio depicts her lying on a wooden table, with disheveled hair and a swollen belly (swollen this time from disease rather than pregnancy). The Magdalene, who sits weeping at her feet, as she had sat at the feet of Christ, has been cleansing the body in preparation for burial, and the bare legs are exposed. Instead of the traditional virginal blue, Mary is clothed in bright red (Caravaggio came to favor this color for his paintings of the Virgin; he depicts her thus clothed also in the "Madonna dei Palafrenieri", c. 1606 and the "Adoration of the Shepherds", c. 1609). Most shocking of all was the fact that, as a model for the virgin, Caravaggio had used "...some dirty whore from the Ortaccio"; not Fillide this time, but another well-known courtesan with whom Caravaggio himself was currently involved.

The painting was removed, and a more conventional depiction by artist Carlo Saraceni was commissioned to replace it. It was later sold, and currently hangs in the Louvre where, free from the shortsightedness of Caravaggio's day, we may appreciate the work as a deeply moving portrayal of both grief and poverty. In his way, the artist even paid tribute to the Carmelite order; his depiction of Mary's bare feet indicates her oneness with the Discalced friars who, as their name suggests (discalced means "barefoot"), eschew the wearing of shoes in imitation of Christ's own poverty. The brown mantle over Mary's body recalls the scapular of Mount Carmel, which the Virgin herself promised would ensure that those who wore it would die in the state of grace. And, although Caravaggio does not shrink from depicting the realities of Mary's mortality, he depicts her face as still youthful, untouched by the ravages of age as, according to Church teaching, her soul had been preserved from the stain of original sin.

Answer: The Tooth Puller

"The Tooth Puller" is in the style of Caravaggio's later period, and contains a number of figures which have their counterparts in his earlier works. The stern looking elderly woman entering from the right recalls Judith's grim-faced elderly attendant; the man just underneath her, who watches disinterestedly with his head propped on one hand recalls the young man to the extreme left in the "Calling of St. Matthew", who ignores the beckoning figure of Christ and stares at the table. The central pairing of the dentist and his patient (victim?), whom he surprises from behind, in some respects recalls Judith's surprise attack on Holofernes (note the "patient" clutching the arm of his chair in agony, a gesture similar to Holofernes'). The cluster of men on the left recalls a similar grouping in Caravaggio's first depiction of the "Supper at Emmaus" (c. 1601), and the presence of a child watching with interest has several earlier counterparts.

Some have objected that Caravaggio had put off doing genre paintings such as this one early in his career (about 1599, when he painted the "Gypsy Fortune Teller"), whereas the "Tooth Puller" dates from much later. And it is true that Caravaggio had influenced a number of other artists (even the great Rembrandt seems to have been channeling Caravaggio in his depiction of the "Blinding of Samson"). However, most scholars are inclined to accept "The Tooth Puller" as the work of Caravaggio. As such, it presents a more light-hearted counterpart to the artist's many depictions of violence and brutality.