Visual formal analysis: methods and applications

Caravaggio's Calling of St. Matthew

Caravaggio's The Calling of St. Matthew dates from 1599-1600, in an extremely late phase of the Italian Renaissance. With the glories of Raphael and Michelangelo already belonging to a generation that had passed on, Caravaggio's style emerged out of the final trend of the Italian Renaissance in the sixteenth century, generally known (often derogatorily) as Mannerism. Mannerist art tends to emphasize the artifice of the painting itself, whether through trompe l'oeil or "fool the eye" style visual trickery or distortion of form in human figure in deliberately anti-classical ways in order to emphasize visual expressiveness and novelty. Caravaggio stands as a transitional figure between the Mannerist phase of the Renaissance, and the post-Renaissance movement of the Baroque: to a certain degree, he may be regarded as a late Renaissance school of painting unto himself. We may note, though, that despite Caravaggio's novelty of form, his handling of content in The Calling of Saint Matthew fulfills the standard goals of Renaissance art. Through a close examination of the painting, we may see how Caravaggio illustrates for the viewer a specific Biblical passage, but also follows the specific rules that had been established by the Catholic Church for what was appropriate for depiction in religious art at the turn of the seventeenth century.

It must be noted at the outset that Caravaggio himself -- whose life has been luridly depicted in biographies as one of homosexuality, espionage, and murder -- might seem an unlikely candidate for a Christian devotional painter. But The Calling of Saint Matthew was not only a commission from the Catholic Church, it was Caravaggio's first major commission: one may imagine, therefore, that the young painter would be on his guard to execute his first major job with special care. It is important however to situate Caravaggio's Christian message within its historical context. In 1599-1600, when Caravaggio worked on the canvas, the Reformation and its associated bloodshed had been happening nonstop since 1517 -- long enough for the Catholic Church to launch what historians of religion refer to as the "Counter-Reformation." The Catholic Church actually issued (as part of its Counter-Reformation policy changes) guidelines for religious art in 1563 at the Council of Trent. As a result, Caravaggio's style in religious painting for The Calling of Saint Matthew had to conform to a set of specific religious guidelines in 1599-1600, regardless of how louche his private life may or may not have been. These guidelines from the Council of Trent included such rules as "nothing profane," "nothing disorderly," "all lasciviousness be avoided," and "figures shall not be painted with a beauty exciting to lust." [footnoteRef:0] Most of these problems, however, are avoided because there are no women depicted in The Calling of Saint Matthew at all. Caravaggio instead creates a visual drama, drawing the viewer's eye into the depths of the scene depicted, to incite a sense of wonder and discovery rather than sexual desire. [0: The Council of Trent: The Twenty-Fifth Session, 1563. Translated by J. Waterworth. http://history.hanover.edu/texts/trent/ct25.html]

Caravaggio illustrates the description from the Gospel according to St. Matthew in Chapter 9, Verse 9 of Matthew's own "calling" as an apostle by Jesus: "Jesus saw a man named Matthew at his seat in the custom house, and said to him, "Follow me," and Matthew rose and followed him." According to Christian tradition, Matthew was a tax collector before following Jesus. This fact is, of course, central to understanding the scene that Caravaggio depicts. It is a worldly scene, from which Christ will call Matthew to pursue higher matters. Yet at the same time, it is worth recalling that Christ gave explicit instructions to his followers to pay their taxes ("Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, and render unto God that which is God's") so the wordly realm of Matthew's professional life before his calling by Jesus is not meant to be depicted as "profane" (which would, of course, violate the Church's artistic regulations). Instead, Caravaggio depicts the world of the tax-collectors in the custom house as an accurate representation of prosperity at the turn of the seventeenth century. Matthew himself wears a doublet of burgundy-colored crushed velvet, with piping in gold, and wears a large chapeau with a gold ornament upon it -- his beard suggests a Venetian grandee more than a first century Hebrew. An elderly accountant (or so he seems) peers through anachronistic spectacles; two of the attendant pageboys (more appropriate for Renaissance aristocrats than Judaean revenue collectors) wear outrageous ostrich plumes on their caps, and the one in the foreground wears what is recognizably a contemporary rapier. Christ himself, depicted in deep chiaroscuro on the far right of the canvas, seems to be wearing more traditional-looking robes, but is mostly obscured by a figure (presumably St. Peter) also wearing a toga-like garment. The disjunction, though, between the heavenly realm of Jesus and the worldly realm of Matthew and the tax-collectors is plainly indicated by the dress. The tax-collectors look like Caravaggio's rich contemporaries -- Jesus and St. Peter look like more traditional depictions of Biblical figures in Renaissance art (such as Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel freschi).

But it is the chiaroscuro that dramatizes the scene -- in some sense, the central fact of the painting is not the figures themselves, but in the large diagonal swath of light which cuts across the canvas from the upper right to the lower left, seemingly emanating from just above Christ's head and hand gesturing to Matthew. The action and energy that are captured by this strong central diagonal band, which represents the source of light -- and possibly also Christ's own divine father -- and which is the only illumination upon the figures depicted. Matthew does not seem blinded, like Saul on the road to Damascus -- but it is worth noting that the shaft of light illuminates his eyes, and the focus of his gaze upon Jesus, perfectly. Matthew's eyes are also perfectly mirrored by those of the pageboy directly to his right, who also gazes upon Jesus. This duplication of effect actually emphasizes the key difference: Matthew's hand pointing at himself (as though to make certain that Jesus is calling him, and not the boy to his right) which reproduces the motif Christ's own hand pointing dramatically at Matthew also. The sense of spiritual election in being called personally by Jesus to follow him is perfectly dramatized by the handling of the light in the painting, made all the more striking by the fact that the majority of the canvas depicts a vast and murky interior in which details (such as Christ's bare feet) are almost wholly obscured by deep shadow.