Caravaggio in Rome: From disreputable painter to star of the Holy Year

On May 27, 1606, a murder occurred in Rome. Caravaggio, alias Michelangelo da Merisi, killed Ranuccio Tommasoni during a ball game, with whom he was certainly not on friendly terms. There was no shortage of witnesses. However, a trial was not held. The Church, which ruled Rome at the time, intervened decisively. Pope Paul V, who had been elected Holy Father in May 1605, imposed the death penalty and made the painter fair game: Anyone who encountered Michelangelo da Merisi on Papal territory had the right to kill him.

The very next day, Caravaggio fled toward Naples, thanks to the help of Prince Filippo Colonna. But why was such a severe punishment imposed by the Pope himself? Hand-to-hand combat, often with fatal outcomes, was anything but uncommon in Rome at the time. Was Caravaggio a thorn in the side of the Church? And how is it that he is now the star of the Holy Year?

Although the "Caravaggio 2025" exhibition is not an initiative of the Vatican, but rather one of state museums, the Church welcomes the idea of ​​celebrating the Jubilee with Caravaggio. At least 700,000 visitors are expected at the Palazzo Barberini in Rome.

Michelangelo da Merisi came to Rome in 1595 at the age of 24. He had spent his apprenticeship in Milan under the painter Simone Peterzano. Now he wanted to seek his fortune in the Eternal City. However, he had neither friends nor mentors there. In his early years, he primarily painted still lifes, which were very popular at the time. But already in "Sick Bacchus," Caravaggio deviated from the genre and introduced himself into the picture.

The painting is considered his earliest self-portrait, one that would be followed by many others. The dramatic chiaroscuro that brought the painter fame and glory is already evident in its beginnings. He still looks ailing. Caravaggio was poor, moved in low society, and desperately sought to attract attention in a Rome where competition among painters was fierce.

The tide turned in 1598 when Cardinal Francesco Maria Del Monte became aware of him. He purchased several paintings and took the painter under his wing. Del Monte helped Caravaggio secure his first major commission for a church. He was to decorate the Contarelli Chapel in San Luigi de' Francesi with paintings based on the Gospel of Matthew, particularly the Calling and Martyrdom of Matthew.

Caravaggio dared not to paint the biblical events as a devotional image with gracious distance, but rather to stage them as dramatic moments of an evangelist living in the here and now. The present, the Rome of taverns and street vendors, formed a new, never-before-seen backdrop for the episodes of Holy Scripture. The Church was astonished, but it had to admit that it was precisely this naturalistic, humanistic, and so little pious depiction that deeply appealed to the faithful.

The next commission followed immediately. The Pope's treasurer, Tiberio Cerasi, wanted the Crucifixion of Peter and the Conversion of Paul for his chapel in Santa Maria del Popolo. It was a breakthrough. Caravaggio's dissolute lifestyle was forgiven and his association with prostitutes and courtesans—whose clients, after all, were not infrequently high-ranking church dignitaries—was approved. There was not even outrage when the city's well-known socialite, Maddalena Antonietti, served as the model for his Pilgrim Madonna for the Church of Sant'Agostino.

But then everything changed: Shortly thereafter, the beautiful Lena was to serve as the Virgin's model again. This time for a commission from the Archconfraternity of the Pope's Riding Grooms. On April 8, 1606, Caravaggio presented his work to the Palafrenieri. But it was only to hang above the altar for a few days. Caravaggio had gone a step too far.

It wasn't the busty Lena, who, together with the Christ Child, is dedicated to the task of defeating evil, that bothered the grooms. No, it was the depiction of Saint Anne, their patron saint: an old woman with bad teeth and a wrinkled neck, looking down rather skeptically at the efforts of her daughter and grandchild to crush the snake at her feet. On June 16, 1606, the confraternity sold the painting to Scipione Borghese.

Just a few weeks earlier, Caravaggio had been forced to flee Rome, condemned by Pope Paul V, the uncle of Scipione Borghese. The Church was clearly divided; the painter's work was too important to be overlooked, his lifestyle too disreputable to be turned a blind eye. Perhaps Paul V, whose hobbyhorse was jurisprudence, also wanted to set an example.

Caravaggio spent four years on the run, staying in Naples, Malta, and Sicily, finding new patrons everywhere who appreciated his revolutionary style. But he wanted to return to Rome. He hoped, not without reason, for the intercession of Scipione Borghese, who would persuade his uncle to pardon the painter. The Colonna family, who had once helped him escape, also put in a good word for him.

Full of hope, Caravaggio embarked on a felucca in June 1610, his luggage consisting of a few paintings for Scipione Borghese and the Pope. But it would be his last voyage. He was arrested in the port of Palo and released two days later, only the felucca had sailed on to Porto Ercole with his works. Caravaggio hurried after them overland, as they were the pledge of his mercy.

On July 18, his strength failed. His dream of seeing Rome again never came true. Yet he remains omnipresent there; his works have been among Rome's main attractions for decades. The "Caravaggio 2025" exhibition at the Palazzo Barberini suggests that the Church today considers his work an important message to the religious community. There is certainly no doubt about its popular appeal. Caravaggio has evidently been forgiven long ago.

“Caravaggio 2025”, Galleria Nazionale di Arte Antica – Palazzo Barberini, Rome, until July 6th. Catalog: 40 euros.