http://www.telegraph.co.uk/art/what-to-see/charles-saatchis-great-masterpiecesa-sharp-serene-vision-battle/
Triumphant: Judith with the Head of Holofernes (detail) by Lucas Cranach the Elder, 1530
Adam and Eve by Lucas Cranach the Elder
Judith with the Head of Holofernes, 1530, by Lucas Cranach the Elder
Lucas Cranach the Elder was a pre-eminent German painter, a canny businessman, and a public relations maestro, who bestowed his own luxury-brand logo on all his works in the symbol of a serpent.
He lived at a time when depicting religious subjects required treading a thin line. Art had become central to the prevailing spiritual unrest spreading throughout Europe in the early 16th century. Waves of ferocious anti-Catholic feeling resulted in many altars and church frescoes being destroyed as idolatrous. Art was repurposed, with a newly austere visual language that was intended as a tool for publicising protestant values.
As a close friend of Martin Luther, the founder of Protestantism, Cranach was at the heart of this movement. His paintings of religious scenes and his portraits of the mighty became fundamental in establishing a new vision of Christianity that provided a direct representation of the gospel, doing away with what its followers saw as heretical Catholic ostentation.
Cranach was also instrumental in flooding Europe with imposing portraits of Luther himself, and produced engravings for the front of the theologian’s pamphlets. Cranach was trained in engraving, and had recently seen it grow in stature following the invention of the printing press. He thought carefully about how to execute such images, given that they would be reproduced many times.
Cranach’s woodcut illustrations of Christ and his apostles as impoverished prophets were deliberately set against the pomp and materialism of the Pope. It was a swingeing, incendiary attack on the Catholic Church, and widely distributed across many nations.
Luther was a valuable friend for an artist at the time. His doctrine made depictions of holy subjects acceptable, provided it was emphasised that these were just images, and not objects of worship in themselves.
He lived at a time when depicting religious subjects required treading a thin line. Art had become central to the prevailing spiritual unrest spreading throughout Europe in the early 16th century. Waves of ferocious anti-Catholic feeling resulted in many altars and church frescoes being destroyed as idolatrous. Art was repurposed, with a newly austere visual language that was intended as a tool for publicising protestant values.
As a close friend of Martin Luther, the founder of Protestantism, Cranach was at the heart of this movement. His paintings of religious scenes and his portraits of the mighty became fundamental in establishing a new vision of Christianity that provided a direct representation of the gospel, doing away with what its followers saw as heretical Catholic ostentation.
Cranach was also instrumental in flooding Europe with imposing portraits of Luther himself, and produced engravings for the front of the theologian’s pamphlets. Cranach was trained in engraving, and had recently seen it grow in stature following the invention of the printing press. He thought carefully about how to execute such images, given that they would be reproduced many times.
Cranach’s woodcut illustrations of Christ and his apostles as impoverished prophets were deliberately set against the pomp and materialism of the Pope. It was a swingeing, incendiary attack on the Catholic Church, and widely distributed across many nations.
Luther was a valuable friend for an artist at the time. His doctrine made depictions of holy subjects acceptable, provided it was emphasised that these were just images, and not objects of worship in themselves.
Cranach soon began to paint religious pictures for Protestant clients; however, he shrewdly managed to maintain his Catholic customer base, and even made an altarpiece for the cathedral of Luther’s chief adversary, Cardinal Albrecht, Archbishop of Mainz.
With this in mind, is his Judith with the Head of Holofernes, from 1530, a Catholic image, or a Protestant one? The ancient tale of Judith and Holofernes is certainly titillating, the ultimate biblical battle of the sexes.
The story begins with the Jewish city of Bethulia facing attack by the formidable army of the Assyrian King, Nebuchadnezzar, led by General Holofernes. The city’s leaders agreed to surrender the city to their enemies unless God helped them within five days. But Judith, an attractive widow, was dismayed by this plan to test the Almighty and decided to take matters into her own hands. Stealing out of town, she approached the surrounding Assyrians and, spinning a web of supposedly vital military secrets, offered Holofernes detailed information about the Israelite defences. Holofernes, captivated by her beauty, invited her into his tent. Having plied him with compliments and wine, when he passed out, intoxicated, she beheaded him. Returning to her people a heroine, she led a surprise attack on the Assyrians, roundly defeating them.
With this in mind, is his Judith with the Head of Holofernes, from 1530, a Catholic image, or a Protestant one? The ancient tale of Judith and Holofernes is certainly titillating, the ultimate biblical battle of the sexes.
The story begins with the Jewish city of Bethulia facing attack by the formidable army of the Assyrian King, Nebuchadnezzar, led by General Holofernes. The city’s leaders agreed to surrender the city to their enemies unless God helped them within five days. But Judith, an attractive widow, was dismayed by this plan to test the Almighty and decided to take matters into her own hands. Stealing out of town, she approached the surrounding Assyrians and, spinning a web of supposedly vital military secrets, offered Holofernes detailed information about the Israelite defences. Holofernes, captivated by her beauty, invited her into his tent. Having plied him with compliments and wine, when he passed out, intoxicated, she beheaded him. Returning to her people a heroine, she led a surprise attack on the Assyrians, roundly defeating them.
Judith with the Head of Holofernes, 1530, by Lucas Cranach the Elder
The story is one of a number of religious tales in which a woman lies to defeat an enemy. Lying may be a sin, but when employed by a seductive woman, with God’s blessing, it is clearly a persuasive tool. For Protestants, the example of the smaller Israelite state defeating the power of the Assyrian forces was seen as mirroring the embryonic Protestant movement in its conflict with the mighty Catholic empire.
The subject has been portrayed differently over time. Early versions showed Judith as a figure evoking the Virgin Mary. In Caravaggio’s moodily cinematic depiction of 1602, Judith appears as a femme fatale, violently severing the screaming Holofernes’s head from his body. Lit in characteristically dramatic fashion, a red jet of blood squirts out in the manner of a samurai movie. Caravaggio also adds a haggard crone standing beside the beautiful Judith, a cynical comment on the fragility of feminine charm.
In contrast, Cranach’s painting offers a more restrained and metaphysical vision of the story. Captured in the moment after the beheading, Judith poses for the viewer in satisfied triumph, as if standing on a podium.
The subject has been portrayed differently over time. Early versions showed Judith as a figure evoking the Virgin Mary. In Caravaggio’s moodily cinematic depiction of 1602, Judith appears as a femme fatale, violently severing the screaming Holofernes’s head from his body. Lit in characteristically dramatic fashion, a red jet of blood squirts out in the manner of a samurai movie. Caravaggio also adds a haggard crone standing beside the beautiful Judith, a cynical comment on the fragility of feminine charm.
In contrast, Cranach’s painting offers a more restrained and metaphysical vision of the story. Captured in the moment after the beheading, Judith poses for the viewer in satisfied triumph, as if standing on a podium.
Luther viewed the picture as a poetic, allegorical passion play. Consequently, Judith is calm and composed, suggesting that she was possessed by God in order to perform the act. She is fully clothed, decorous, and bejewelled, all modesty firmly intact – but her material sumptuousness, and cinched-in corseted waist, renders her slightly less than virginal.
Clearly, something in the story obsessed Cranach, because he made 18 different versions of this picture. In each of his paintings, Judith is a courtly presence. Sometimes her hair flows down her shoulders coquettishly; in others it is tied back. The positioning of Holofernes’s head changes a little, as if Cranach is searching for the perfect vision of female allure triumphing over its enemy. Perhaps he was responding to growing demands for depictions of the scene.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York notes that its version of the painting, seen here, employs “typical systematic methods used by the artist, which were designed to facilitate rapid manufacture and ease of reproduction”. The singular brilliance of this work is perhaps somewhat undermined by this statement.
In truth, Cranach’s studio was churning out paintings for the nobility across Europe, alongside heraldic devices for tournaments, table ornaments for banquets, shields and crests for ducal coaches and banners.
Nonetheless, Cranach’s magnificent portrayal of Judith is best understood as having been created in times of both restraint, and religious fervour. It towers majestically astride theological iconography, a sensualist vision of female erotic power.
Clearly, something in the story obsessed Cranach, because he made 18 different versions of this picture. In each of his paintings, Judith is a courtly presence. Sometimes her hair flows down her shoulders coquettishly; in others it is tied back. The positioning of Holofernes’s head changes a little, as if Cranach is searching for the perfect vision of female allure triumphing over its enemy. Perhaps he was responding to growing demands for depictions of the scene.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York notes that its version of the painting, seen here, employs “typical systematic methods used by the artist, which were designed to facilitate rapid manufacture and ease of reproduction”. The singular brilliance of this work is perhaps somewhat undermined by this statement.
In truth, Cranach’s studio was churning out paintings for the nobility across Europe, alongside heraldic devices for tournaments, table ornaments for banquets, shields and crests for ducal coaches and banners.
Nonetheless, Cranach’s magnificent portrayal of Judith is best understood as having been created in times of both restraint, and religious fervour. It towers majestically astride theological iconography, a sensualist vision of female erotic power.
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