Great Art Cities: Rome - Caravaggio, Bernini and Pozzo

Rome is the birthplace of Baroque,

the highly ornate and elaborate style
of architecture, art, and design

that flourished in Europe

in the 17th and first half
of the 18th century.

Unlike the Renaissance,

which was all about control
and perfect balance,

the era was famous for its dramatic flair
and sense of movement.

The Baroque style was also
the first global art form.

It spread from Rome
throughout Europe and to Asia.

The upside of the Roman Catholic Church's
immense wealth

has been its support
of hundreds of artists,

including the three
we are looking at in this video:

Michelangelo, Marisi de Caravaggio
Andrea Pozzo and Gian Lorenzo Bernini.

In this episode, Great Cities Explained
goes outside the galleries and museums,

and inside three Baroque churches

that still house their work today
and cost nothing to visit.

Caravaggio, Bernini and Pozzo
were born into a world

that had been shaken
by the Protestant Reformation,

which had significantly weakened

the CatholicChurch's influence
across Europe.

The Protestant Reformation began in 1517

when Martin Luther challenged
the Catholic church with his 95 thesis,

criticizing indulgences
and clerical corruption.

Rooted in disputes
over salvation and scripture,

it spread across Europe
via the printing press

and through other reformers.

The movement fractured Christianity,

eventually sparking religious wars

and reshaping Europe's religious
and political landscape.

One of the weapons the Catholic Church
used in the fight against protestantism

was art.

It's one thing for the church
to tell priests

what to teach and to write
new laws and new decrees,

but they also had
to transmit this information

to the everyday person on the street.

And to do that they put these ideas
in the place that people know best,

where they go to celebrate their faith
- on the walls of the churches.

The church's counter-reformation movement

demanded that art be used as a tool
to inspire faith, devotion,

and more importantly
to emotionally engage.

The Church would use powerful imagery
to reinforce Catholic Doctrine,

inspire faith, and counteract
the spread of Protestantism.

It decreed that art should be clear,
direct, emotional, and didactic,

conveying religious messages in a way

that was accessible to all,
including the illiterate

Baroque art was a direct result
of this need for works

that were characterized
by emotional intensity,

religious ecstasy, suffering, and triumph.

And Rome, the spiritual and cultural
capital of the Christian world,

became the epicentre of Baroque art,
architecture, and culture,

during the 17th century.

Many artists, as you know, are troubled,
difficult and sometimes problematic.

Caravaggio was someone who certainly
liked the seedy underbelly of life,

and is sometimes referred to
as "Baroque's bad boy",

in itself a problematic term.

He had over 40 police records,
mostly for violent activities,

and he was eventually condemned to death
after killing a man,

necessitating spending
most of his life as a fugitive.

This might make him
a terrible human being,

but in a period of complete uncertainty
about the sacraments,

about what part Saints played,

about what we believe and why,

it also made him the perfect artist
to express the incredible tension

that was so prevalent
in this period of the post-reformation.

He was also the best qualified artist
to portray the calling of a sinner.

By the late 1590s Caravaggio
was working in Rome,

trying to make a name for himself
in the competitive art scene.

Already known for his rebellious nature,
and rough temperament,

which often clashed
with his professional ambitions,

Caravaggio was struggling
to get commissions.

Then in 1599,
after another artist dropped out,

he was asked to create two scenes
from the life of St Matthew

for the Conterelli chapel

in the Baroque Church
of San Luigi de Francesi,

the National Church of France in Rome.

It is these paintings
more than any others,

that establish Caravaggio.

They marked the moment when the mannerist
conventions of the late 16th century:

rational, intellectual,
perhaps a little artificial,

give way to the Baroque.

The two huge paintings were to stand
either side of a statue of St Matthew

by Flemish artist Jakob Coebert,

but the clients rejected
the finished statue

and Caravaggio was asked
to create a third painting,

as a centrepiece above the altar,

showing St Matthew writing the Gospel
under the guidance of an angel.

The first painting in the trio
is the Calling of St Matthew,

which depicts the moment in the Bible
when Christ calls Matthew,

a tax collector, to follow him.

The scene is set
in a dimly lit Roman tavern,

the sort of dingy place Caravaggio
and his friends hung out in,

with figures dressed in the same type
of 17th century contemporary clothing

that the artist and his friends war.

In fact, Caravaggio often included
his friends in his paintings.

Here is the artist Mario Minitti,
who appears in several of his works

and like Caravaggio was part
of the seedy underbelly of Roman life.

But why does Caravaggio
show them in modern clothing?

It would be like walking
into a church today

and seeing a painting
with Christ contemporaries

in t-shirts, jeans, and sneakers.

Later on, Caravaggio will include
17th century armour

in another illustration
of the Gospel story.

It is a deliberate choice
to bridge the gap

between the biblical story
and the viewer's reality.

This anachronism, to our eyes

was totally understandable
to a 17th century audience,

and in line
with counter-reformation thinking.

It told the viewer
that the possibility of redemption

was as relevant in their present
as it was in Biblical times.

Christ and Peter in the painting, however,

are both barefoot and dressed
in the more familiar robes

we know from Biblical paintings,

to help distinguish
between the divine and the secular.

Christ gestures towards Matthew

who sits at a table counting coins
with other tax collectors.

The moment captures Matthew's surprise
and his inner conflict

as he realizes he is being chosen.

Structural composition serves
as the backbone of a painting

and plays a crucial role
in guiding the viewer's experience,

conveying meaning
and creating aesthetic harmony.

With so much going on
in all three paintings

the structure and the symmetry
is important.

This one is almost square.

And then within it, there are
a series of squares and rectangles,

giving it coherence.

It also has a series of diagonals
starting from the light behind Christ,

another diagonal follows
the young boy's sword,

another St Peter's leg,

and yet another the leg angle
of the boy on the left.

Matthew's call is shown through
the extreme sense of light and shadow

we know from Caravaggio's
signature use of chiaroscuro,

something I have discussed
in my other video on Caravaggio.

A beam of light comes
from behind the head of Christ

who stands to the right
partially obscured behind St Peter,

and the light illuminates the group

- but not through the window
that is visible,

but from an unseen supernatural source,

underscoring the idea of redemption

that even a sinner like a tax collector
in a den of sin,

can be transformed
into something extraordinary.

A large part of the painting
is blank space, or rather light.

And as I've discussed before,

light is used in religious art
as a metaphor for the presence of God,

divine intervention or,
in this case spiritual awakening.

The light hits all of the men
around the table

but a choice is being made
by each individual

whether or not to look into the light.

These two men are more engrossed
in material concerns

- counting coins -

and their indifference to Christ,
or their "spiritual blindness"

is there as a contrast
to Matthew's moment of recognition.

There is a lot less certainty than we see
in many other treatments of the theme.

Matthew himself is not sure
who is being called,

as indicated
by both his quizzical expression

and the way he points to himself
as if to ask: "Is it me?"

The rather undecided way
Christ points towards Matthew

adds to this ambiguity,

and as we see from this x-ray,

it was something Caravaggio
experimented with.

The hands of Christ, Peter, and Matthew
are strikingly similar.

Christ's hand pointing
towards Matthew is the highest,

followed by Peter's,
which emphasises Christ's selection,

and finally Matthew's.

All three share the same gesture,
with subtle variations,

adding to the symmetry of the composition.

It is no coincidence that Christ's gesture
echoes the hand of Adam

in Michelangelo's "Creation of Adam"
in the Sistine chapel,

perhaps emphasising
Christ's Divine Mission,

while subtly connecting
the act of calling Matthew

to the act of Creation itself,

suggesting that Christ is giving Matthew
a new life, a spiritual one.

Matthew and his friends clothing
is made from rich fabrics

— silks, velvets and brocades —

the most beautiful clothes
of the 17th century,

and along with the coins,
these luxuries all indicate

that should Matthew accept Christ calling,

there is a lot to be given up.

The martyrdom
on the facing wall of the chapel

tells us that it cost him everything.

The inspiration of St Matthew
is the centrepiece

and represents the moment
of Matthew's inspiration

to write the Gospel.

The first thing to notice
is the contrast between the two figures.

The angel comes down in a spiral
and looks like a beam of light,

while Matthew is projecting
heat and warmth,

as if he is on fire with inspiration
delivered from Heaven.

This was not the first version.

Caravaggio originally created
this image for the chapel

which was rejected by the church,

because it showed St Matthew

as an uneducated, unkempt
peasant with dirty feet.

The painting was destroyed
in the Second World War,

but this is an original photo
which is sometimes colorised.

Caravaggio's inclusion of dirty feet
into a sacred context

was radical, raw, and authentic,

a move away from the idealised
religious imagery,

and a message
that Holiness and Divinity

could be found in the lowliest
and most unexpected places.

He always used life models

and often used poor
or workingclass people,

beggars, street-walkers, criminals,
and manual labourers,

again emphasising realism
and the divine within the ordinary.

The use of lower class,
less than perfect models

to portray holy figures,

is sometimes interpreted as blasphemous
by modern writers,

but this is not true.

While there were critics
of Caravaggio at the time,

he was simply following
counter-reformation ideas.

By showing the physical
earthly realities of life,

the dirt and the clutter,

he emphasised the human,
humble nature of his subjects,

tapping into the church's aims
of appealing directly to the masses.

In this second version Caravaggio painted,

instead of being
fully controlled by the angel,

- as he appears in the first version,

it shows Matthew kneeling,
with a strong weathered appearance,

leaning forward as if deeply
immersed in the act of writing.

The angel above him

delicately encourages or inspires,

and counts on his hands

how many verses Matthew has completed
- rather than dictates.

The interaction
between the angel and Matthew,

deliberately fluid,

emphasises that this is

a collaborative process
of divine inspiration,

rather than one of full control
of an illiterate peasant.

Caravaggio connects
the two figures visually:

Matthew's bent right arm
matches the Angel's left,

and the curve of his left arm
matches the Angel's right,

their hands are close together,
their shoulders are parallel.

Both lean forward onto the right hand,

both raise their left leg,

and both stretch out their right leg.

Unlike in the previous version
of this episode,

the angel's wings are dark,

hard to make out against the background,

which gives the work a sense of drama,
tension, or foreboding of what is to come.

The angel feels strangely
grounded and tangible,

consistent with
Caravaggio's naturalistic style.

While not identical,
there is a visual echo

between the positioning
of Michelangelo's God,

and Caravaggio's angel.

Both figures lean towards
the human counterpart

in a gesture of divine
communication or intervention.

Additionally the drapery in both works
flows dynamically,

adding to the sense
of motion and divine energy.

The martyrdom is the last of the three.

According to tradition,

the saint was killed on the orders
of the king of Ethiopia,

while celebrating mass at the altar.

Caravaggio chooses the moment

when the murderer has already
stabbed Matthew once,

and is about to administer the fatal blow.

We can see splattered blood
from that first wound.

It is the sort of violence Caravaggio
himself was all too familiar with.

The artist is never really interested

in the physical environment
in his paintings,

and the altar
- so important in other versions -

is almost entirely obscured
by the angel's cloud.

The angel, with a head
of thick brown curls

and a muscular adolescent body,

is similar to that in "The Inspiration",

and almost certainly was the same model.

He seems to have been inspired
by this painting by Titian.

The martyrs are in identical
— but reversed - positions.

The assassin looms over the saint,
with one hand gripping his arm,

and the other raised with a weapon.

The nearby companion
recoils in panic and flees,

almost a mirror image.

And the angels reach out to the Saint
with a palm leaf, the symbol of martyrdom.

Caravaggio had never painted
such a large canvas,

nor one with so many figures,

and it seems to have caused him
considerable difficulty.

X-rays reveal two separate attempts
at the composition.

Originally it was
a much more crowded painting,

with some architectural features,

and many more characters.

By taking away these elements
and removing the architecture,

Caravaggio removes any distractions
from the main story.

Matthew's Martyrdom.

Each figure in the painting
— many in contemporary clothing —

is an individual,

the artist would have cast
from the streets of Rome,

each with a unique expression

ranging from indifference
to curiosity to fear.

The three men here, are in loin cloths,

so were waiting to be baptised by Matthew.

The Assassin himself is in a loin cloth,

suggesting he was pretending
to be one of those waiting to be baptised.

If we look at this figure here,
we see a self-portrait of Caravaggio,

a likeness we know
from his other paintings.

And if you look carefully,

Caravaggio's bare buttocks tell us
he is wearing a loin cloth,

suggesting he too
was about to be baptised,

but is now running away.

A comment perhaps, that he,
like the other people fleeing the scene,

would have lacked the courage
to help St Matthew.

In the case of "The Martyrdom",
the light source is coming from the left,

for "The Calling" it comes from the right

and for "The Inspiration", from above.

In other words, as if the light
from the Chapel's real window

extends into the three paintings.

He uses light to guide us
around the painting

and to pick out the most
important elements of the subject,

in much the same way a spotlight
picks out the action on a stage.

Our eyes are of course drawn
to the central figure,

the Assassin, who is also
the most brightly lit.

We follow his arm down to St Matthew,

who appears to be holding
his hand up for protection,

but is in fact reaching for the angel
(who only he can see),

who is in turn reaching down
to him with the palm.

This is not a painting about fear,

but rather a moment of Joy or ecstasy

- a common way martyrdom
was portrayed by Baroque artists -

as we shall see with Bernini.

Once again Caravaggio
uses mirror images and balance

to create symmetry,

and help guide the viewer's eyes
towards the key figures.

The Assassin and St Matthew
are positioned symmetrically,

and if we flip St Matthew up

we can see it is a mirror image.

St Matthew reaches out to the angel

passing him the palm of martydom

with both their arms
at a 90° angle to their bodies,

creating a vertical line straight
through the painting.

As with "The Inspiration of St Matthew",

their body positions
are almost identical:

Right arm reaching, left arm bent,

left leg outstretched,
right leg bent backwards out of view.

The movement and energy
in all three paintings is intense.

There is a real sense
of dialogue and motion.

Figures are in mid action,
capturing a specific moment

and emphasising the drama

that seems to be taking place
right here, right now.

His characters lean, twist, grimace

and gesture, bringing
biblical narratives to life

with unprecedented immediacy.

It is anachronistic, of course.

But there is a good reason
to call Caravaggio's art "cinematic",

three centuries
before cinema was invented.

His work had an immediate influence

on artists like Peter Paul Rubens,
Artemisia Gentileschi, and Bernini,

but in the 20th century

his influence extended to the art of cinema
and cinematography,

in the many films which were influenced
by the painter's visual style and themes.

His paintings of St Matthew
marked a turning point in his career,

and he became
the most celebrated painter in Rome.

But his success in that city
was short-lived.

On May 28th, 1606, Caravaggio
became involved in a deadly duel

with a man named Ranuccio Tomassoni,

likely over a dispute related to gambling,

a lover, or personal honour.

The fight took place
in the Campo Marzio District of Rome,

and Caravaggio fatally wounded Tomassoni.

In Rome at the time, murder was
a capital offence, punishable by death.

A "bando capitali", or a death warrant,
was issued,

meaning, anyone could legally
kill Caravaggio and claim a reward.

By 1610, the artist had been living
in exile for four years,

moving between Naples, Malta, and Sicily,

seeking protection
from powerful patrons

who would overlook
his criminal convictions,

as long as he continued
to paint masterpieces for them.

His work from this period often reflected

themes of guilt,
mortality, and redemption.

This image features him
as the defeated Goliath,

and his former assistant as David.

Caravaggio died in Porto Ercole
on July the 18th or 19th, 1610

at the age of 38.

The exact cause of death
remains uncertain.

His untimely - but some
might say unsurprising - death

brought a tragic end to his story,

but left behind
a legacy of revolutionary art

that changed the course
of Western painting.

In part two of great art cities: Rome,

I look at two more Baroque churches
containing great masterpieces.

One is an immense optical illusion,
painted onto a flat ceiling,

by a Jesuit brother, Andrea Pozzo.

And then he other shows the murder
of a Spanish Carmelite nun,

created by another troubled
and violent artist - Gian Lorenzo Bernini.

Transcript by Margarida Mariz (2025)