For a 6-week seminar I just finished, our final project was a presentation on a pre-assigned artwork in the Hispanic Society of America, a wonderful little museum in Spanish Harlem (and the subject of a post I’m working on). Rather than get immediately started on my work in the library, as midterms loom, I’d much rather post my own presentation on this blog! Read on…
El Greco, St. Jerome, c. 1600
Hispanic Society of America
At first glance, El Greco’s work seems bizarre, almost abstract. The elongated figures, turbulent colors, and stretching diagonals of his compositions are quite unlike the more conventionally realistic work of his contemporaries. But the iconography and aim of El Greco’s religious works are, by the standards of the Counter-Reformation, perfectly correct. One might even argue that they are more effective for El Greco’s contemporary viewers to study, because they demand serious contemplation of the religious subject and lead to true meditation on the relationship of the individual viewer to the life of Christ. This fact can be seen particularly well in this devotional painting of St. Jerome, from 1600.
Beginning as a painter of icons, El Greco was born in Crete and trained in the Byzantine style. The basis of his Byzantine style training, whose abstract decoration did not include the study of anatomy or architecture, combined with El Greco’s later move to Italy and subsequent influence of Renaissance masters, allowed for the painter to develop a truly original style. El Greco was most enamored by Titian, the Italian Renaissance artist with whom he was rumored to have studied. Regardless of whether or not this legend is true, the artist and his works had a profound influence on El Greco, and he praised Titian in the margins of his copy of Vasari’s art historical text. Because of the influence of Titian’s work on him, El Greco seems to have formed two ideas that shaped his life and career. First, El Greco adored Titian’s use of rich, saturated color, a technique that he deemed one of the most important aspects of creating art. This belief in the importance of color is clear with only a glance at a few of his paintings. Second, El Greco was greatly impressed by Titian’s status in Italy: that of the gentleman painter, one who not only lived well but was respected by his society. El Greco seems to have believed deeply that the artistic craft should be revered; but unfortunately, the artistic climate in Spain did not yet agree with his conviction.
El Greco moved to Spain after leaving both Crete and Italy to try to find his patronage, hoping for a career as great as Titian’s. Yet he ended up alienating himself from two potentially powerful patrons through his belief. He ardently fought against the tasación, or valuation, of artworks in Spain, a payment system in which both artist and patron would hire appraisers to determine the price of an artwork—after it had already been made. After fighting for two and a half years with the Cathedral of Toledo over his Disrobing of Christ, El Greco was forced to settle for a much lower price than he desired because of the tasación. Then, he annoyed King Philip II himself by giving his commission for The Martyrdom of St. Maurice and the Theban League an unconventional composition, in which the king’s desired subject seems merely an afterthought. Luckily for El Greco, one of his close friends was a young Spanish priest named Luis de Castilla, whose father was quite influential in the Spanish church. With their support, he was still able to secure large-scale commissions, though he never became a true “court painter.”
Perhaps this was for the better, because without a constant patron like the church or the king, El Greco was forced to find a more practical way to make a living. With the decrees of the Council of Trent now at the forefront of religious life in Spain, there was a high demand for devotional paintings among the masses. The ideals of the Counter-Reformation encouraged the public to turn inward, preaching the importance of individual prayer and a personal relationship with Christ to understand their faith. These devotional paintings by El Greco, which scholars agree are exceptionally executed, were meant to provide that individual incentive visually. El Greco’s devotional paintings were extremely popular, and it is said that he had a case of sample paintings in his studio, from which a buyer could pick and choose subject matter and composition.
St. Jerome is a particularly important figure in the iconography of the Counter-Reformation. A cardinal who was depicted both as a penitent and as a scholar, one might say that St. Jerome is the ideal “mascot” for the period. Portraits of Jerome as a scholar remind the viewer of the Counter-Reformation importance of individual study of the Catholic faith. Meanwhile, Jerome as a penitent, seeking forgiveness from God for his sins, reminds the viewer of the importance of the individual relationship between God and man. This twofold interpretation of the saint defines two of the Council of Trent’s primary aims for the religious education of the masses, and as such, it is no wonder that Jerome was a much-utilized subject by the church.
With this information, it is clear that El Greco’s devotional painting of the penitent saint, seen above us, is utterly masterful, and moreover, his unique style lends a religious intensity to the painting that surely would have incited any contemporary viewer into devout study. El Greco places the saint in the ambiguous space of a cave, surrounded by all the conventional attributes of Jerome: his books and papers, a skull, and the hourglass are arranged in a still life across a table, and his cardinal’s hat hangs at the cave’s edge. Beyond the cave, we can glimpse a swirling sky and a hint of foliage, giving us only the most general idea of the setting.
What is most important here is St. Jerome himself. Although an older man, Jerome is still muscular—showing El Greco’s adaptation of Michelangelo’s figures from his study in Italy—but all sinew and nerves, elongated and stretched from nose to beard to chest along the picture plane. The length of his body, modeled by blues and grays among the peach of his skin, is accentuated both by the long, wooden Crucifixion upon which he gazes so intently, and by the diagonals of the composition—the table and the cave’s edge. The velvety blackness of the cave frames Jerome, and the ambiguous light source highlights in frosty white the curves of his muscles and the bright magenta drapery of his cloak. This painting is characteristically and masterfully “El Greco”: from the elongated figure to the bright, confident use of color.
Moreover, El Greco highlights St. Jerome’s importance to the Catholic church and their new Tridentine policies in this devotional painting. His attributes remind us of St. Jerome’s scholarly pursuits, and thus also the importance of individual learning and understanding of faith in the Counter-Reformation. But what is most striking about the painting is the intensity of Jerome’s stare. Many of El Greco’s saints look upwards with huge eyes in spiritual epiphanies. Here, just as, if not more, poignantly, the solid, formidable figure of St. Jerome is completely engrossed by the wooden Crucifixon, gazing tenderly at Christ. The fact that we cannot see Christ’s face on the sculpture—we can barely make out the shadow of his head—only emphasizes the utter devotion of St. Jerome to his faith. Recalling the fact that the Counter-Reformation strongly advocated that the only mediator between the individual and God was Christ Himself, the focus on Jerome’s tender, intent gaze on the Crucifixion sculpture—a symbol for Christ—makes utter and complete sense.
El Greco created these devotional paintings in order to make enough money to live by, but his mastery shines through even in these mass-produced images. Informed by the religious doctrines of his time, the paintings display an image ideal for the purchaser’s individual devotion. But we can also sense El Greco’s own devotion in this painting—not only to the beliefs of the Counter-Reformation-era church, but also to the craft of painting, the art form he loved and revered most, on which he worked so diligently and innovatively, and for which he fought so ardently during his life.
Works Referenced
Brown, Jonathan. Painting in Spain 1500-1700. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998.
The Hispanic Society of America. El Greco in the Collection of The Hispanic Society of America. New York: The Hispanic Society of America, 1927.
Guidol, José. El Greco: 1541-1614. Barcelona: Ediciones Polgrafa, S.A.
Lopera, José Álvarez. El Greco: Identity and Transformation. SILEX: Spain, 1993.