Creative Writing #8

We walk quickly through the last few exhibits on the way to the exit. The modern paintings we pass are a blur of color on a black background as I rush past them in a hurry to leave and meet the rest of the group outside. All of them have the same theme: bright background with splashes of color that showed people and objects in supposedly natural scenes. I glance up between long strides to catch glimpses of these paintings that I have not seen before. Man on a horse. Women wearing flowing dresses. I know that if they are displayed in the Uffizi, they are probably significant works by important painters, but I do not have time to appreciate them for their artistry. I look back to see three other students hurrying past all of the paintings, almost sidestepping through the gallery so that they can quickly absorb all of the art that surrounds them. One more exhibit. One more room. Red “uscita” signs propel me forward through the museum. I pass through a small display of paintings and barely pause to look up. When I see it, I stop immediately. I step closer and almost laugh out loud.

I have stumbled upon a Caravaggio! Bacchus, with his glass of wine and headdress of leaves, looks up at me from the tiny canvas. I was drawn to this small painting on a small table because of the dark background that contrasts with all of the bright paintings around it. The main figure, a young man dressed in a white toga, is posing for a portrait. He is fair-skinned, but his cheeks and face are flushed, probably the result of his indulgence in the wine that he is holding. A bounty of fruits is placed on the table in front of him and he wears a headdress of leaves. His left hand lightly grips a large glass of red wine as he reclines slightly to his right. His youthful face shows no sign of distress or unhappiness. I look around the room and I am surprised to see another Caravaggio painting, this time with Medusa as his subject, on display behind me. I quickly scan this image, trying to record it in my memory, before turning back to Bacchus. I am most interested in how much he resembles a real human boy. He is a beautiful boy, but he does not have the idealized, mature face that I expect from an artist portraying a god. After my limited viewing of the painting, I conclude that the painting is a portrait of the god Bacchus who is enjoying himself, as usual, by partaking of wine and a bountiful selection of fruits.

My surprise at finding a Caravaggio has inspired me to learn more about this particular painting. Scholars have hailed this piece as a prime example of Caravaggio’s developing talent with realism. His Bacchus does not look like a romanticized ancient god, but instead is a vulgar, effeminate youth who offers the viewer wine from a shallow goblet. This portrayal of Bacchus as a young man dressed as the god is consistent with the theatricality and staging of all of Caravaggio’s paintings. In my analysis, I identified this unusual depiction of Bacchus as a young man, but I did not initially notice the prominent sensuality of the Bacchus figure. Perhaps this is because I assumed that the model’s body language and flushed face were painted to show his drunkenness, as Bacchus is the god of wine. I am pleased with my analysis, especially because I know that I could not possibly observe everything in the painting because of the limited time I had to study the painting.

I have seen many Caravaggio paintings, usually during art history classes in museums around Rome and Florence, and I have always been interested in learning about the subjects of the paintings and how the artist pioneered a new style in art. However, it is a completely different experience to stand in front of a painting by myself and write down everything that I observe. On my own, I can decide which parts of the painting I am drawn to instead of learning what scholars believe or even what the artist intended to paint. When I am forced to look at a painting by myself, I am free to interpret the art in a way that makes it personal and more intimate. This is how Bacchus introduced me to my Caravaggio.