One painting which portrays this scene, found in the National Gallery in London was, according to information from the catalogue, created for Cardinal Scipione Borghese, and may in all likelihood be regarded as the original[54]. There is a copy which is probably in Milan, and another replica is in the church of Notre-Dame in Bruges[55]; the former is very similar to that from Caravaggio’s studio, the latter is assumed to be the hand of a Flemish successor. The London painting demonstrates a delightful sweetness regarding the presence of the figures. The phrase “passion leads to art” also belonged to the gospel of the Carracci[56], but for them it was more a fancy for modelling the muscular physique than for the power of psychological expression. Here, the tone of the scene is reminiscent of the style of Caravaggio’s bambocciate, as the artist knew them. The painting depicts a group in a tavern, where the wine has clearly been flowing. Yet in other parts of the painting there is such nobility, a transcendence that shines through despite its material slant, and due solely to these shimmering, profane and supernatural creatures, the piece has a special charm. The tavern’s landlord, who himself appears in the scene, gives a sense of reality to this image of the miraculous. At the same time, the colouring is so intense that for this reason alone it should be recognised as one of the most balanced and enticing works produced by Caravaggio, who otherwise favoured dark tones. The picture trade, based on fast production, which he had run together with Prosperino delle Grottesche shortly before, seems to have been of such importance to him that he had guaranteed a certain freshness of invention[57].

 

The Supper at Emmaus is significant for the distance the painter allows himself to go: in the representation of Jesus appearing to the two disciples, Caravaggio chooses to humorously represent an innkeeper wearing his hat accompanied by a waitress, both of whom are dressed in 17th-century attire. This technique, which gives the scene a certain shift in time, had already been used by the painter in his first painting of Mary Magdalene. For the painting that can be seen in the Cesari chapel (The Conversion of Saint Paul), Caravaggio, ignoring the celestial vision, prefers to anchor the scene in the material reality of a horse-riding accident which symbolises the shock experienced by the apostle. Caravaggio, who in the paintings of Saint Matthew in the chapel in San Luigi dei Francesi had already tried to revolutionise and renew the fundamental laws of painting, outdid this monument to his recently-discovered style in an even more magnificent way in the paintings he carried out for the Cerasi for their chapel in Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome. On the right-hand wall of the chapel to the left of the nave, directly next to the choir[58], is The Conversion of Saint Paul, and on the left-hand wall The Crucifixion of Saint Peter. J. Burckhardt’s judgement of the works, in which his dislike of Caravaggio is clearly expressed, remains exaggerated and restricts access to the understanding of an important moment in the Baroque[59]. His reproach concerning the horse, from which the apostle has slid following his vision, which almost completely fills the picture on its own, seems unjustified given the mastery of the application of the paint in the forms and colours. On the contrary, it is the contrast between the struck-down animal and the divine messenger who is standing in the background which renders the impact even more significant. From a purely artistic point of view, this pushing of enormous corporeal masses into the foreground marks the point at which painting left its previous tendencies behind.

 

According to Baglione, Caravaggio also painted The Incredulity of Saint Thomas for Ciriaco Mattei, depicting the apostle as he touches the side of the Risen Christ with his finger[60]. Although J. Meyer mentions the disappearance of this work, which was once exhibited in the Palazzo Giustiniani, it has since been found and is now in the Schloss Sanssouci in Potsdam[61].

 

Contrary to decadent figurative compositions, in his work, Caravaggio never represented a god surrounded by clouds, nor a divine eye with almighty vision in the classic radiant triangle. The gazes of Caravaggio’s Madonnas, Saints, or Christs never turn towards heaven. Contrary to the ecstatic faces and eyes of the characters painted by Guido Reni or Carracci, the divinities of this realist painter never stray far from the terrestrial horizon in either thought or gaze. Certain paintings offer up a prayer to the Virgin (Madonna di Loreto; Madonna of the Rosary), but it is more an anxious supplication that worldly pain might cease than a conjuration against a mysterious and perpetual punishment, or an aspiration to the beatitudes of a hypothetical paradise. Only that which in the Christian religion symbolises the sanctification of human suffering seemed to have awakened a sincere sentimental impulse in Caravaggio. His authentic compassion for the weeping apostles surrounding the bed of the Virgin is convincing, as is his profound respect for the majestic sadness of Christ (Ecce Homo). Equally as convincing is his piety in depicting the suffering Christ tied to the column and whipped (The Flagellation of Christ at the Column), as is his admiration for the heroic torment of the mother, who envelops her son’s corpse with her love (The Entombment). The artist, attracted more by terrestrial life than by theological issues, seems not to have been compelled to constant religious practice. On the contrary, Michelangelo Merisi may have given credit to far-fetched beliefs and superstitious practices.