Judith and Holofernes (ca. 1612-13) by Artemisia GentileschiMuseo e Real Bosco di Capodimonte
Artemisia's Judith beheading Holofernes, about 1612-13, is a work of shockingly graphic violence.
In it, she not only places the gruesome details of the decapitation in the centre foreground, she also imagines the practicalities and physical effort involved in such a task.
She carefully considers the strength her heroine, Judith, has to put into working the sword across the neck of the Assyrian general, Holofernes.
As well as thinking about his surprise and agony.
Artemisia even pays attention to the ways the rivulets of blood might run across the bed sheets.
Many have sought to explain the violence in this painting in terms of Artemisia's own lived experience – that it was her revenge, in paint, for having been raped by the artist Agostino Tassi.
But this interpretation doesn't account for the fact that during the first four decades of the 17th century paintings depicting highly naturalistic scenes of violence were very popular among artists and patrons.
Why?
The Crowning with Thorns (1602/1604) by Michelangelo Merisi, called CaravaggioKunsthistorisches Museum Wien
A number of factors played a part in this upsurge of intensely dramatic imagery.
Over several decades, influential figures in the Catholic church had been calling for a form of religious art that would more successfully grab the attention of the faithful and stir their emotions to prayer.
There was also the enormous influence of an artist who rose to fame when he was living and working in Rome – the painter of this 1602–4 depiction of Christ being beaten – Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio.
Caravaggio gave his religious subjects a sense of captivating immediacy. Dramatic contrasts of light and shade and illusionistic painting gave his figures a three-dimensional presence. And by placing them close to the picture plane, he made it seem like the action was taking place right before the viewer’s eyes.
Caravaggio also painted his figures using everyday people as his models. He sometimes depicted them in contemporary dress, like the man in armour and plumed hat on the left here.
These aspects of Caravaggio’s work had a great impact on Artemisia’s father, Orazio Gentileschi, who taught his own daughter to always work from live models.
Salome receives the Head of John the Baptist (about 1609-10) by Michelangelo Merisi da CaravaggioThe National Gallery, London
It was Caravaggio more than any other who also created a taste for biblical scenes of disturbing violence. This Salome receives the Head of John the Baptist, about 1609–10, is a late version of a gruesome subject he painted more than once.
In it, a brutish executioner – modelled on a man Caravaggio may well have come across on the streets of Rome – places the decapitated head of Saint John Baptist on a dish.
Caravaggio shows the blood of the Baptist beginning to pool on the salver held out for us to see.
Caravaggio was himself a violent man. Most famously, he was forced to flee Rome in 1606 after fatally wounding an opponent in a brawl. But his paintings reflect the violence of the times he lived in as much as they do his troubled biography.
Soldiers Playing Cards and Dice (The Cheats) (c. 1618/1620) by Valentin de BoulogneNational Gallery of Art, Washington DC
Caravaggio and his many followers, including the artist of this gambling scene, Valentin de Boulogne, drew inspiration from the world around them. Rome – the city of Artemisia’s birth – was a particularly rowdy and dangerous place.
Criminality, drunkenness, fighting and prostitution were all part of the fabric of daily life.
While artists often frequented the courts and palaces of their illustrious clients, they were also firmly part of this rough and brutal world.
The Strappado (c. 1633) by Jacques CallotNational Gallery of Art, Washington DC
In addition to this daily violence, people across Europe also often witnessed public executions and judicial processes where the accused were questioned while being brutally tortured before a crowd.
This engraving by the French printmaker Jacques Callot depicts a very common form of judicial torture, the strappado.
The victim was hoisted high into the air by their arms, which were tied behind their back. It was not long before their shoulders dislocated.
Artemisia endured a similar judicial procedure when, during the trial of the man who had raped her, she had to answer questions under torture. She was subjected to the sibille; a relatively ‘mild’ form of torture which consisted of ropes being looped around each finger, which were then tightened using a running string. Possibly out of sympathy for her cause, the judge reminded the prison guard torturing her of Artemisia’s gender and young age (she was 18 at the time), as if cautioning restraint.
Judith and Holofernes (ca. 1612-13) by Artemisia GentileschiMuseo e Real Bosco di Capodimonte
Artemisia’s depiction of Judith beheading Holofernes couldn’t help but have its roots in her own experience. But her intensely dramatic, no-holds-barred approach to the subject – which became the inspiration for numerous artists – had a wider context.
What made her work unique at the time was the female perspective she brought to this well-known subject, showing the most violent of acts.
And the fearless way she was prepared to confront its horror.
Judith in the Tent of Holofernes (ca. 1624–1625) by Johann LissMuseum of Fine Arts, Budapest
Perhaps the ultimate expression of the taste for violent imagery can be found in this depiction of Judith by the German-born painter, Johann Liss.
This Judith in the Tent of Holofernes was painted in 1622, when Liss was working in Italy.
Adopting the intense lighting and powerful naturalism of Caravaggio, Liss depicts the beheading with visceral violence – rather like Artemisia herself did in her Judith beheading Holofernes.
The trunk of Holofernes’s body projects out of the picture towards us, blood pouring from his neck.
Judith stashes Holofernes’s head in a bag and looks over her shoulder at us, making us complicit.
Within a few decades the taste among artists and patrons for scenes of naturalistically depicted, graphic violence had waned, making way for a more idealised approach to storytelling.
