Sarcasm Alley

My introduction to Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (1571-1610) began at the celebrated world class Fort Worth small museum The Kimbell. There resides her most prized possession of her prized collection: Caravaggio's Cardsharps. I'm no analyst who can verbalize the whys and wherefores of an art object like author Andrew Graham-Dixon in his book on Caravaggio but I can tell you I immediately fell in love with this painting and own an oil reproduction of it.

We've all had moments of pure clarity, honest expressions we've allowed through our hearts and into the world. We are justly proud of those genius moments but such genius does not wholly define us. Caravaggio was a man who oscillated between the "sacred and profane" like we all do only his extremes were greater than most because his life was greater than most. When speaking of Caravaggio it's easy to parse out one side or the other, to speak only of his transcendent art or his destructive personal life. Graham-Dixon's book does justice to both.

Caravaggio was that most cursed and doomed of all entities: a free spirit. Never in the history of mankind has one lived to survive. His life was tumultuous from beginning to end, until finally in the end he found himself caged along with his art. The wounds of the world had caught up with him. So I tell a tale of two men. First, of Caravaggio the Teddy tough boy.

"You lookin' at me?"

- Travis Bickle, Taxi Driver (Director Scorsese admits to a heavy Caravaggio influence)

Conversion of St. Paul

The mean streets of Rome in the time of Caravaggio were full of angry, energetic young men with chips on their shoulders, looking to scuffle, drink and whore. Petty vendettas of "honor" ran through the tight avenues in an undercurrent of violence from the defacing of a door with feculence to the cutting of a person's face in recourse for "injury to reputation." Caravaggio fit right into the milieu. Struggling with his own identity as a person it's been conjectured he was everything from a raging homosexual to a pimp. Indeed, Caravaggio is an icon in the homosexual community today but like so many things surrounding his persona they became exaggerated with his larger than life existence.

Caravaggio knew he'd never be a pillar of the community thus he needed many protectors in his life. In his early days in Rome he dangerously carried a sword and dagger, items expressly forbidden or requiring a license. This put him always at the edge of the law with his Jim Morrison attitude towards the police but his high place protectors for whom he painted bailed him out time after time. In the nocturnal scrapping over territories Caravaggio developed bitter enemies and one in particular. This resulted in a highly illegal duel leaving one dead enemy and a fleeing Caravaggio.

For the remainder of his days Caravaggio would be on the run. He needed freedom. He saw lesser talents than he rewarded with gold chains and commissions by compromising their artistic integrity in lowly propaganda paintings. Caravaggio the man sought freedom in a world that would never grant it. Deep down he knew this and it fueled his violent nature. He'd been banned from Rome for the killing and in a symbolic quest he pursued the freedom to return to the center of the art world, the place most home to him.

"One thing I can tell you is you've got to be free!"

- John Lennon, "Come Together"

Calling of St Matthew - but which one is Matthew?

On the outside, Caravaggio achieved his ultimate success on the island of Malta, governed by an ultra-strict sect called the Knights of St. John. Like so many times before (and hence) he painted his way out of trouble and into the good graces of the powers that be. He was knighted, given his own gold chain - and then promptly got himself thrown into prison after insulting and breaking down the door of one of the knights much higher up the chain than he.

The author called this an act of self-sabotage but it was nothing of the sort. The acceptance of the knighthood, of it chaining him to that island - even by a golden chain - that was his true self-sabotage. The fracas that jailed him also freed him of his obligations to the suffocating rules and regulations he could never stomach. He escaped to Sicily, moved from town to town and finally got word of a potential pardon by the Pope to live and return to Rome.

But that was only a symbolic freedom. Caravaggio still had many enemies back there, stepped on too many toes in his lifetime and the walls were collapsing around him as he became further and further indebted to men who expected something in return for any help he received. Just before he was set to leave, a group of men ambushed Caravaggio, slashing his face and causing deep injury. Separated from the boat meant to return him, Caravaggio exhausted himself trying to catch up and died two days later from fever and still unhealed wounds. He died homeless but chainless.

"Forgive me, Majesty. I am a vulgar man! But I assure you, my music is not."

- Mozart in "Amadeus"

Emmaus

It was that lack of chains that caused him so much personal misfortune that also provided for his great legacy as an artist. Author Graham-Dixon does an excellent job of breaking down Caravaggio's paintings, contextualizing them and bringing them to life. The Renaissance was a time when color was finally bleeding back into the world from the Dark Ages but art was still controlled for the most part by the Pope and the cardinals and the religious hierarchy (who also had much legal authority). How does one paint another man's god and still be meaningful?

You don't. As the author quite correctly points out, Caravaggio was always painting himself, his inner turmoil, the encroaching darkness of his imperiled light and life. The magic of it was that the truth he put into his paintings made whatever Biblical story he had to tell all the more stronger and real, wildly pleasing his benefactors for the most part (sometimes he got too real for them). This is how he remained true to himself.

"It's better to burn out than fade away."

David with the head of Goliath.
Caravaggio used his own face for the dead heathen.

In his art Caravaggio sought atonement. For all the misdeeds and mayhem of his personal life, of his self-destructive betrayal to the truth of love, he hoped to ameliorate this with his paintings. The greater the guilt, the greater the drive. He knew he couldn't keep saying "Forgive me" with his paintbrush forever but he was never able to escape that cycle. Salvation in paint never brought him salvation in life. He knew better but couldn't do better.

Caravaggio's Cardsharps was a pioneer in genre painting at the time (in fact, creating its own genre widely duplicated). His use of light and dark was also revolutionary. A self-taught man, he could answer to no one but himself. He saw his only rival as that of his predecessor from whom he was named: Michelangelo. In his art Caravaggio created a dialog with the art of Michelangelo, giving his own take on renowned deeds of the great master, such as recreating Michelangelo's finger of God to Adam. Caravaggio's intelligence and mastery were not be underestimated.

Cover highlights one of the many self-portraits
Caravaggio worked into the background of his paintings

Graham-Dixon's book is finely researched citing papers that have only recently come to light in the past decade. When needed, I found his assertions and conjecture to have a ring of truth. At times, I did notice some hesitation on occasion, like a runner who fears to finish first. Still, this is a bold and grand step into Caravaggio's life and world and a must read for anyone interested in this great and troubled soul.

A few more for your viewing pleasure: