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Perseus and Medusa

Perseus and Medusa

Super Hero and #MeToo

After exploring prophets, sinners, and saints from the Biblical tradition, it’s time to turn back to the world of Greek mythology. Let’s start with two of its most iconic figures: Perseus and Medusa. Her story resonates today as a #MeToo narrative; his tale reads like the script of a modern superhero film. Greek myths may be older than the Bible, but the themes they carry, such as good versus evil, justice for the wronged, and the quest for hope, are timeless. So let’s dive in.

To give some context, I’ll introduce the two main characters, Perseus and Medusa, before following Perseus through his adventures, from his miraculous birth as the child of one of Zeus’ escapades to his dramatic wedding with Andromeda. The topics we’ll explore are:

The recurring theme: a busy life for our superhero and the eternal struggle between good and evil.

The Main Characters: Perseus and Medusa

Perseus is one of the prominent heroes in Greek mythology. Unlike some other Greek heroes, his strength did not rely solely on brute force but also on inner qualities like courage and determination. He was the son of Zeus, king of the gods, and Danaë, a mortal princess. Perseus is best remembered for slaying Medusa and for rescuing Andromeda from a sea monster.

Medusa, once a beautiful priestess in the temple of Athena, is one of the tragic figures in mythology. She was raped by Poseidon in Athena’s sacred temple. Because the act defiled a holy space, and possibly because Medusa had boasted of her beauty, Athena punished her by transforming her flowing hair into venomous snakes. And from that moment on, anyone who looked directly at Medusa would be turned to stone.

Poseidon, the rapist, went unpunished. It was the victim who bore the consequences. We do not know if Poseidon felt guilt or ever faced the weight of what he had done. What we do know is that Medusa became the embodiment of female suffering, even labeled a monster. Her transformation has come to symbolize the way women are punished or demonized. In today’s world, Medusa’s story is often reinterpreted through the lens of the #MeToo movement, challenging us to consider who the real monster truly was.

Perseus, Roman copy after a Greek original of the 5th century BCE, Marble, height 29cm, Centrale Montemartini, Musei Capitolini, Rome. Medusa (c.1646), Gian Lorenzo Bernini (Italian, 1598 – 1680), Marble, height 68cm, Musei Capitolini, Rome.

Danaë, Perseus’ mother; Zeus, his father

Perseus was born under remarkable and mysterious circumstances. His mother was Danaë, a mortal princess and daughter of Acrisius, the king of Argos. Acrisius, obsessed with control and fearful of fate, had received a chilling prophecy: one day, he would be killed by his own grandson. To stop this from happening, he locked Danaë in a bronze chamber, isolated high in a tower, where no man could reach her.

Danaë and the shower of gold (1527), Jan Gossaert (Flemish, c.1472 – 1532), Oli on panel, 114x95cm, Alte Pinakothek, München.

But the gods, as always in Greek myth, find a way. Zeus, king of the gods, saw Danaë and desired her. Taking the form of a shower of gold, he entered her prison and impregnated her. In time, Danaë gave birth to a son, whom she named Perseus.

Danaë and the shower of gold (c.1621), Orazio Gentileschi (Italian, 1563 – 1639), Oil on canvas, 162x227cm, Getty Center, Los Angeles.

When Acrisius discovered the child, he was furious and terrified. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill his own daughter and her infant directly. Instead, he sealed them in a wooden chest and cast them out to sea, leaving their survival to fate. But Zeus watched over them!

The sea carried Danaë and Perseus safely to the island of Seriphos, where a kind fisherman named Dictys took them in. Dictys raised Perseus as his own, and the boy grew into a brave and spirited young man.

Danaë and the little Perseus put in a chest by King Acrisius (c.470BCE), Stamnos (storage bowl), Attributed to the Deepdene Painter, produced in Attica (Greece), height 39cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

(A note from the future: many years later, when Perseus had grown into a man, he took part in the Olympic Games. During a discus throw, his aim went astray and struck down a spectator. That man was none other than King Acrisius, his own grandfather. The prophecy Acrisius was so afraid of was fulfilled, by a tragic accident. But that lies far ahead in the story. For now, we return to the adventures of Perseus as a youth.)

King Acrisius sending off Danaë and Perseus in a chest (c.470BCE), Lekythos (oil vessel), Attributed to the Providence Painter, height 41cm, Toledo Museum of Art, Toledo, OH.
Danaë and the little Perseus put in a chest by King Acrisius (c.490BCE), Hydria (water bowl), Attributed to the Gallatin Painter, produced in Attica (Greece), height: 42cm, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

As Perseus matured, he became fiercely protective of his mother. Her beauty had not faded, and it attracted the unwanted attention of many men, including the island’s ruler, King Polydectes. Polydectes was aggressive and arrogant, and he was determined to marry Danaë, whether she agreed or not. Perseus saw through him immediately and did everything he could to protect his mother.

Danaë locked in the tower, Perseus with his mother Danaë drifting away, the fisherman Dictys who found Perseus and his mother, and King Polydectes who will soon start harassing Danë.
Illustration (c.1470) from Raoul Lefèvre (French, 15th Century) “Recoeil des Histoires de Troyes”, 9x12cm, Koninklijke Bibliotheek KB 78 D 48, National Library of the Netherlands, The Hague. For the full page of the manuscript, with text and illustration, click here.

An impossible task: killing Medusa

Frustrated, Polydectes devised a plan to get Perseus out of the way. He announced he was marrying someone else and demanded that all his subjects bring him wedding gifts. Perseus, relieved that his mother wasn’t the bride, promised to give Polydectes whatever he wanted. The king seized the opportunity and asked for something outrageous: the head of Medusa, whose gaze could turn anyone to stone.

Perseus agreed, though he had no idea how he would complete such an impossible task.

Help from Athena and Hermes

To carry out the impossible task of killing Medusa, Perseus received crucial help from two gods: Athena, goddess of wisdom, and Hermes, the swift messenger of the gods.

Perseus Armed by Athena and Hermes (1604), engraver Jan Harmensz. Muller (Dutch, 1571 – 1628) after design by Bartholomeus Spranger (Flemish, 1546 – 1611), Engraving, 57x40cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

Athena gave Perseus a highly polished bronze shield. It would allow him to see Medusa’s reflection without looking directly at her. A pretty vital move, since anyone who met her gaze would instantly turn to stone. Hermes provided him with winged sandals, enabling him to fly, and a sharp curved sword.

Perseus Armed by Athena and Hermes (c.1550), Paris Bordone (Italian, 1500 – 1571), Oil on canvas, 104x153cm, Birmingham Museum of Art, Birmingham, AL.

With Athena’s guidance and Hermes’s gifts, Perseus was ready to face the deadly Medusa. He flew to her, used the mirror-like shield to watch her movements, and without ever meeting her eyes, struck with precision. In one swift motion, he cut off her head, snakes and all.

Perseus with the Head of Medusa (1554), Benvenuto Cellini (Italian, 1500 – 1571), Bronze, height 519cm, Loggia dei Lanzi, Piazza della Signoria, Florence.
Perseus about to kill Medusa with the the guidance of Athena (c.1636), engraver Cornelis Bloemaert (Dutch, c.1603 – 1692) after design by Abraham van Diepenbeeck (Dutch, 1596 – 1675), Illustration from Michel de Marolles “Temple des Muses” (Amsterdam, 1676), Engraving, 28x18cm, Heidelberg University Library, Heidelberg, Germany.
The Head of Medusa (1618), Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish, 1577 – 1640 Antwerpen), and the snakes by Frans Snyders (Flemish, 1579 – 1657), Oil on canvas, 69x118cm, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.
Perseus after cutting off Medusa’s head (c.460BCE), Hydria (water bowl), attributed to the Pan Painter, produced in Attica (Greece), excavated in Capua (Campania, Italy), height 34cm, British Museum, London.

Death of Medusa and the birth of Pegasus

As Perseus struck off Medusa’s head, something extraordinary happened. From the blood that poured from her neck, a winged horse sprang forth. This was Pegasus, who became Perseus’s loyal companion.

Perseus now carried two powerful tools. One was the head of Medusa, which still had the power to turn anyone who looked at it into stone. The other was Pegasus, the magical horse who could fly. With these, Perseus began his journey home. He planned to return to Seriphos, confront King Polydectes, and reunite with his mother Danaë.

Perseus on Pegasus, after slaying Medusa (1925), John Singer Sargent (American, 1856 – 1925), Oil on canvas, 348x318cm, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

But the way back would not be simple. Like many heroes, Perseus would face new challenges on the road. Each test would reveal more of his courage, his cleverness, and his sense of justice.

Atlas becomes a mountain

On his journey home, Perseus grew tired and stopped to rest in a distant land. This place was ruled by Atlas, a mighty giant who stood guard over a sacred garden. Perseus asked for shelter, explaining that he was the son of Zeus. But Atlas remembered a prophecy that warned him a son of Zeus would one day steal the golden apples from his garden. Fearing the prophecy, Atlas refused to let Perseus stay.

Atlas being transformed into a mountain range (1606), “Atlas ob inhospitalitatem in montem sui nominis” or “Atlas, because of his inhospitality, turned into a mountain of his own name” from Ovidius’ Metamorphoses, Antonio Tempesta (Italian, 1555 – 1630), Etching, 10x12cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

Perseus did not argue. Instead, he reached into his bag and pulled out the head of Medusa. When Atlas looked upon it, he was instantly turned to stone. His great body became part of the earth. His beard and hair turned into forests. His shoulders and arms became ridges and cliffs. His head rose into the sky as a high mountain. This, according to legend, is how the Atlas Mountains in Morocco originated and came to be named after the giant Atlas.

Perseus and Andromeda

As Perseus traveled home, riding the winged horse Pegasus, he flew over the coastline of ancient Ethiopia. There, he saw a young woman chained to the rocks at the edge of the sea. Her name was Andromeda. She had been left as a sacrifice to a sea monster, sent to punish the land for her mother’s pride. Her mother, Queen Cassiopeia, had once claimed that Andromeda was more beautiful than the sea spirits. This angered Poseidon, god of the sea. In revenge, he sent a terrifying monster to attack the coast. The only way to stop the destruction, the people believed, was to offer Andromeda to the creature.

Perseus and Andromeda (c.1592), Giuseppe Cesari (Italian, 1568-1640), Oli on slate, 71x55cm, Rhose Island School of Design Museum, Providence, RI.

Perseus was struck by Andromeda’s beauty, and he made a promise to save her. As the sea monster rose from the waves, Perseus flew into action. Riding Pegasus, he waited for the perfect moment. Then, at just the right time, he pulled Medusa’s head from his bag. The monster looked…, and instantly turned to stone.

Perseus releases Andromeda (c.1622), Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish, 1577 – 1640), Oil on canvas, 100x139cm, Hermitage, St. Petersburg.

Andromeda’s parents, the king and queen, were filled with gratitude. Perseus asked for Andromeda’s hand in marriage, and she agreed. Together, they would set off for his homeland. But their story was not over yet.

Wedding of Perseus and Andromeda, and Phineas as unwanted guest

After rescuing Andromeda, Perseus was welcomed as a hero. The wedding was quickly arranged, and the royal palace filled with celebration. But not everyone was pleased. At the height of the feast, an angry voice echoed through the hall. It was Phineus, Andromeda’s former fiancé. He stormed in with a group of armed men, furious that the bride had been given to another. He shouted that Andromeda had been promised to him, and that Perseus had stolen her. Tension rose. The joyful feast turned into chaos. Phineus and his followers attacked. Perseus tried to fight them off, but he was badly outnumbered.

Perseus turning Phineas and his followers to stone (c.1640), Luca Giordano (Italian, 1634 – 1705), Oil on canvas, 285×366cm, National Gallery, London.

Then, as a last resort, Perseus reached for the most fearsome weapon he had: the severed head of Medusa. Holding it aloft, he turned his gaze away. The attackers, caught mid-charge, had no time to look away. One by one, their bodies froze in place. Faces twisted in rage, weapons raised, they turned to cold, silent stone. The room fell quiet. Phineus was no more. The threat was over. The marriage of Perseus and Andromeda could finally begin in peace.


Perseus turns Phineas and companions into stone by showing them Medusa’s head (c.1605), Annibale Carracci (Italian, 1560 – 1609) and Domenichino (Italian, 1581 – 1641), fresco, c.500x200cm, Galleria dei Carracci, Palazzo Farnese, Rome.

Saving his mother Danaë, and confronting Polydectes

After his adventures abroad, Perseus returned home to the island where he had grown up. But all was not well there. His mother, Danaë, was still being harassed by King Polydectes, who had never given up his attempts to force her into marriage. She had taken refuge in the temple of Athena, hiding from the king’s relentless advances.

King Polydectes petrified by Medusa’s head (1676), illustration from Isaac De Benserade’s “Metamorphoses d’Ovide en rondeaux”, engraved by Sébastien Leclerc (French, 1637 – 1714), 8x10cm, Bibliothèque municipale de Lyon, France.

Perseus went straight to the palace and confronted Polydectes. Without a word, Perseus pulled the head of Medusa from his bag. Polydectes and his supporters, unprepared and arrogant, looked straight at it and turned to stone. With justice served and his mother finally safe, Perseus restored peace to the island.

Medusa’s head on Athena’s shield

After the sea monster was killed, Andromeda and his mother Danaë saved, and justice delivered, Perseus fulfilled one last promise. He returned the head of Medusa to Athena, the goddess who had guided him on his quest.

Perseus, Athena with the head of Medusa, and Hermes (c.395BCE), Krater (mixing bowl) by the so-called Tarporley Painter, produced in Apulia (Italy), height 31cm, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, MA.

Athena took the powerful object and placed it at the center of her shield. From then on, Medusa’s stony gaze would serve to protect. It would turn away evil, and remind all who saw it of the strength found in wisdom and courage.

Athena and her shield with Medusa’s Head (c.1585), engraver Jan Saenredam (Dutch, 1565 – 1607) after design by Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), Engraving, 21x14cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Medusa on a shield (1597), Caravaggio (Italian, 1571 – 1610), Oil on panel, 60x55cm, Le Gallerie degli Uffizi, Florence.

Closing Notes

So what do we make of Perseus? Like Daniel from the biblical tradition, he is not a hero of brute force but of cleverness, courage, and integrity. Both are young men who rise to great challenges with the help of higher powers, whether divine faith or Olympian favor. They confront arrogant rulers, monsters in both human and mythic form, and they stand up for those who cannot protect themselves.

The stories of Perseus are older than the Bible, mythological in form, but in essence they tell the same tale: that justice can prevail, and that even in dark times, there is hope for the oppressed. Daniel’s story, though biblical in origin, mirrors these ancient myths in spirit. Both narratives teach us that the powerful who act with pride and hubris will be humbled. Both reveal a world where integrity matters more than might. And both reassure us that in the end, with the help of God or the gods, peace can be restored.

Bonus: Versace!

Now from myth to Milan! The famous fashion house Versace uses the head of Medusa as its logo, a direct nod to Greek mythology. The choice wasn’t random. As children, the Versace siblings played among ancient ruins near Reggio Calabria in southern Italy. There, on an old mosaic floor, they encountered the image of Medusa.

Versace Medusa plate (1993), Rosenthal Porcelain, Ø30cm.

Gianni Versace chose Medusa as the brand’s emblem. In myth, those who looked at her were turned to stone. In fashion, he hoped those who looked at his designs would be equally spellbound and captivated. Unlike Perseus, who avoided her gaze, we are drawn to it willingly, mesmerized. Carefully of course, because style and beauty can petrify!

Cranach’s Adam and Eve united in a single frame

Cranach’s Adam and Eve united in a single frame

Lucas Cranach the Elder (German, 1472 – 1553)

Gallerie degli Uffizi, Florence

At the Uffizi in Florence, an important restoration has brought new life – and unity – to Lucas Cranach the Elder’s celebrated pair of panels Adam and Eve, together representing the Fall of Man. The Uffizi’s Adam and Eve were most likely created as two coordinated but independent panels, not as one painting later split. They are conceived together as a single composition, and the two works have now been united within a single ebony-style frame, visually and aesthetically restoring the harmony intended by the German master.

Adam and Eve (1528), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 - 1553), Oil on panel, 167x122cm, Galleria degli Uffiuzi, Florence.
After: Adam and Eve (1528), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 – 1553), Oil on panel, 167x122cm, Galleria degli Uffiuzi, Florence.

Cranach and his workshop painted over fifty versions of The Fall of Man. Within those, the Uffizi pair stands out for its design: the figures of Adam and Eve are clearly meant to be seen together and, as such, tell the story of the Fall of Man. Their expressions, gestures, and mutual gaze reveal a dynamic dialogue that is now fully restored. The new frame, inspired by the black ebony frames typical of Central and Northern European collections, enhances this interplay while also protecting the works with conservation glass.

Adam and Eve (1528), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 - 1553), Oil on panel, each 167x61cm, Galleria degli Uffiuzi, Florence.
Before: Adam and Eve (1528), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 – 1553), Oil on panel, each 167x61cm, Galleria degli Uffiuzi, Florence.

Lucas Cranach the Elder’s paintings of Adam and Eve were typically created as a matched pair, with each figure painted on a separate panel intended to be displayed side by side. Though not a single unified panel, the works were conceived as a visual pair, often mirroring each other in pose and scale to create that harmonious composition. This diptych format was popular in Cranach’s workshop, which produced multiple variations on the theme, all maintaining the balance and tension between the figures.

Here are a few other examples: the set from the Kunsthistorische Museum in Vienna; the set from the Norton Simon Museum during restaurantion; and a single panel variation from Würzburg. For an overview of all Cranach’s Adams and Eves, see the Corpus Cranach as supported by the Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg.

Adam (c.1510), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 - 1553), Oil on panel, 137x54cm, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.
Eve (c.1510), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 - 1553), Oil on panel, 137x54cm, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.
Adam and Eve (c.1510), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 – 1553), Oil on panel, each 137x54cm, Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.
Adam and Eve (c.1530), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 - 1553), Oil on panel, each 188x70cm, Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena, California.
The two panels from the Norton Simon Museum, put next to each other during the restauration.
Adam and Eve (c.1530), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 – 1553), Oil on panel, each 188x70cm, Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena, California.

Over the centuries, some of these paired panels were separated, sold individually, and now reside in different collections around the world. Where possible, museums have reunited them, while others display only one half of the original pairing. Though variations exist – including single-panel compositions featuring both figures – Cranach’s most attractive format is the two-panel set, a format emphasizing the duality of the narrative of the seducer and the one being seduced, and allowing for the visual interplay between Adam and Eve.

Adam and Eve (c.1513), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 - 1553), Oil on panel, 72x62cm, Museum für Franken, Würzburg.
Adam and Eve (c.1513), Lucas Cranach the Elder (1472 – 1553), Oil on panel, 72x62cm, Museum für Franken, Würzburg.

Within the visual and theological conventions of the Renaissance, Eve was often portrayed as the seducer, and Adam as the one being seduced. Lucas Cranach the Elder’s paintings reflect this interpretation. His depictions typically follow the traditional Christian narrative in which Eve is the first to take the forbidden fruit and then offers it to Adam, thus leading both into the Fall.

With the operation in Florence, the Uffizi has not only restored the original compositional intent but has also enhanced the storytelling power and visual impact of two masterpieces of the German Renaissance, now united as they were meant to be. The result is a more coherent and powerful narrative of the biblical story of temptation and the fall of humankind. This reframing marks a key addition to the Uffizi’s newly arranged rooms dedicated to Flemish and Northern European painting on the Gallery’s second floor. 

  • About the restoration on the Uffizi website, click here.
  • Some info about visiting the Uffizi in Florence, click here.
Villa Medicea di Poggio a Caiano (c.1500) and the Visitation by Pontormo (c.1528), Tuscany.

Villa Medicea di Poggio a Caiano (c.1500) and the Visitation by Pontormo (c.1528), Tuscany.

Pontormo (1494 – 1557)

Poggio a Caiano, Tuscany.

The Villa Medicea di Poggio a Caiano is located between Florence and Prato in Tuscany. It was commissioned by Lorenzo de’ Medici around 1485 and designed by Giuliano da Sangallo. The building is considered an early example of Renaissance villa architecture, with classical elements such as a symmetrical layout, a central loggia, and a raised platform. Its elevated platform, symmetrical structure, and central loggia reflect the ideals of Vitruvian proportion and balance, making it a model for later villas across Europe.

Villa Medicea di Poggio a Caiano, seen from the entrance and reception area.

The villa was used as a country residence by the Medici family. Pope Leo X (born Giovanni de’ Medici, Lorenzo de’ Medici’s son and the first Medici pope), stayed there regularly. In the 16th century, major decorative works were added, including frescoes in the main hall by Andrea del Sarto and Pontormo (a depiction of Vertumnus and Pomona), a.o. These works reflect Medici political ambitions and classical themes. The main hall and ceiling decoration is dedicated to Pope Leo X.

Villa Medicea di Poggio a Caiano, main hall ceiling, Pope Leo X coat of arms, a combination of the Papal and Medici symbols.

Later, the villa was used by the Habsburg-Lorraine dynasty and by the House of Savoy. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, it served as a royal residence. Today, it is a Unesco World Heritage Site and is open to the public.

The villa currently houses The Visitation by Pontormo, on temporary display while its original location – the church of Santi Michele e Francesco in Carmignano – is undergoing restoration. The painting, a key example of early Mannerism, remains accessible to the public during this period.

Visitation (c.1528), Pontormo (1494 - 1557), Oil on board, 202x156cm, San Michele e San Francesco, Carmignano, now on view in the Medici Villa of Poggio a Caiano, Italy.
Visitation (c.1528), Pontormo (1494 – 1557), Oil on board, 202x156cm, San Michele e San Francesco, Carmignano, now on view in the Medici Villa of Poggio a Caiano, Italy.

The villa also houses the Museo della Natura Morta, a museum dedicated to still-life painting, with works from the 17th to 18th centuries. The villa is surrounded by a historic park and gardens, with beautiful citrus trees and a Limonaia (Orangery).

  • The Villa Medicea di Poggio a Caiano is off the beaten track, outside Florence and absolutely worth a visit. Reservations are needed, for English or Italian tours. The villa can be visited free of charge from Tuesday to Sunday. Guided tours lasting about an hour with admission every hour from 8.30 to 15.30. No visit at 13.30. Reservations required on +39 055 877012 (just call them, they speak English and it’s very easy to book a slot).
  • For directions, click here. Bus 210 connect the station of Signa with the Villa, the stop is right in front of the Villa. For bus 210, just tap in and out with your bankcard.
Cain and Abel

Cain and Abel

“Destructive Power of Jealousy“

The tale of Cain and Abel is one of the earliest and most poignant stories from the Bible, illustrating themes of jealousy, moral choice, and justice.

Adam and Eve expelled from Paradise and Adam and Eve with their sons Cain and Abel (c.1450)
Miniature from Manuscript 0139, f.003v-004, Jean Mielot, Miroir de l’humaine salvation, parchment, leaf 40x30cm, Chantilly, Bibliothèque et Archives du Château, France.

The narrative begins with Adam and Eve, the first humans created by God, living in the Garden of Eden. This paradise was lost to them by eating the forbidden fruit, resulting in their expulsion. Driven from Eden, they were condemned to a life of toil and hardship. Adam, whose name means “man,” was cursed to work the ground and labor for his sustenance with great effort and sweat. Eve, whose name means “life,” was condemned to suffer pain in childbirth. These curses set the stage for their challenging life outside Eden.

After their expulsion from Eden, Adam and Eve started a new life and had two sons: Cain, the firstborn, and Abel. Cain became a farmer, working the soil, while Abel became a shepherd, tending to the flocks. Their professions set the stage for the fateful events that followed.

Cain and Abel Offering Gifts (c. 1365)
Master of Jean de Mandeville (French, active 1350 – 1370), Illuminated manuscript with tempera colors, gold, and ink, leaf 35x26cm, Getty, Los Angeles.

In time, both Cain and Abel made offerings to God. Cain offered fruits of the soil, while Abel brought fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock. God looked with favor upon Abel and his offering, but He did not look with favor upon Cain and his offering; see the two God-images on the manuscript illustration above. This divine preference sparked jealousy and anger in Cain.

Cain and Abel Offering Gifts and Cain killing Abel (c.1477)
from the Codex Palatinus Germanicus 16, Illustrated manuscript from the workshop of Ludwig Henfflin (German, 15th Century), 18x17cm, Universitätsbibliothek Heidelberg, Germany.

Consumed by envy and rage, Cain lured Abel into the fields and killed him, committing the first murder recorded in biblical history. When God inquired about Abel’s whereabouts, Cain famously responded, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” God, knowing what had transpired, cursed Cain to a life of wandering and hardship, and sends him away to a land East of Eden.

Cain slaying Abel (c.1608)
Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish, 1577 – 1640), 131x94cm, The Courtauld Gallery, London.

The story vividly illustrates the destructive power of jealousy. Cain’s envy of Abel’s favor with God drives him to commit a heinous act. This emotion blinds him to brotherly love and leads to tragic consequences.

Cain Killing Abel (1589)
Engraving by Jan Muller (Netherlandish, 1571 – 1628) after design by Cornelis Cornelisz van Haarlem (Netherlandish, 1562 – 1638), 33x42cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

After the murder, Cain expresses a form of regret when confronted by God. His infamous response, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” and later his concern about being killed in retribution, reflect his realization of the gravity of his actions. This regret, however, appears more self-centered than truly remorseful for Abel’s death. While the story does not explicitly mention forgiveness in the conventional sense, there is a form of divine clemency. God marks Cain to protect him from being killed by others, signifying that despite his grave sin, Cain is given a chance to live and possibly atone. This mark can be interpreted as a complex form of mercy, highlighting that even severe sinners are not beyond the reach of divine protection.

The Lamentation of Abel (1623) with on the right Abel’s flock of sheep, and two more children of Adam and Eve, one of them being Seth, the future ancestor of Noah.
Pieter Lastman (Netherlandish, 1583 – 1633), 68x95cm, The Rembrandt House Museum, Amsterdam.
Adam and Eve Lamenting over the Corpse of Abel (1604) with some scenes in the background: top right Cain and Abel offering, middle right Cain kills Abel, and middle left Cain sent away to the East of Eden.
from the series Adam and Eve, History of the First Parents of Man, engraving by Jan Pietersz Saenredam (Netherlandish, 1565 – 1607) after design by Abraham Bloemaert (Netherlandish, 1566 – 1651), 28x20cm cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
The Death of Abel (c.1539) and God cursing Cain and sending him away to the Land of Nod, East of Eden.
Michiel Coxcie (Flemish, 1499 – 1592), 151x125cm, Prado, Madrid.

Genesis 4:9 is a pivotal verse: “Then the Lord said to Cain, ‘Where is your brother Abel?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’”

This part holds significant moral implications, encapsulating themes of responsibility, guilt, and moral accountability. Here’s an analysis of its significance. By asking Cain about Abel’s whereabouts, God is not seeking information but providing Cain with an opportunity to confess his wrongdoing. This mirrors God’s approach to Adam and Eve in Genesis 3:9 when He asked, “Where are you?” after they sinned. It signifies God’s desire for honesty and repentance from humanity. The question “Where is your brother Abel?” underscores the expectation that humans should be aware of and care for one another, highlighting a fundamental ethical principle of communal responsibility.

Curse of Cain (1583) with few extra scenes: on the left Adam and Eve lamenting over the body of Abel, on the right Adam and Eve expelled from paradise and in top right corner the two offers made by Cain and Abel.
from the series Sinners of the Old Testament, engraving by Raphaël Sadeler I (Flemish, 1561 – 1628) after design by Maerten de Vos (Flemish, 1532 – 1603), 24x20cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

Cain’s reply, “I don’t know,” is a blatant lie, showcasing his unwillingness to accept responsibility for his actions. This reflects the depth of his moral failure, as he not only commits fratricide but also attempts to deceive God. “Am I my brother’s keeper?”: This rhetorical question is laden with irony and defiance. It encapsulates Cain’s attempt to evade responsibility and his failure to understand the moral duty of protecting and caring for his sibling. The phrase has since become synonymous with the idea of moral and social responsibility, questioning whether individuals are obligated to look after the welfare of others.

The passage underscores the teaching that individuals have a duty to one another. The concept of being one’s “brother’s keeper” implies that everyone has a responsibility to look out for and protect others, which is a cornerstone of ethical behavior in many religious and moral systems. The phrase “Am I my brother’s keeper?” challenges readers to reflect on their own responsibilities to their fellow human beings, making it a timeless and profound moral question.

The Story of Cain and Abel (1425 – 1452) in six scenes: top left Adam and Eve with their sons Cain and Abel, middle left Abel as shepherd, bottom left Cain as farmer, top right the offer of Cain and Abel and God giving more appreciation to one above the other, middle right Cain killing Abel, and bottom right God in conversation with Cain and sending him away to the land East of Eden.
Lorenzo Ghiberti (Italian, 1378 – 1455), panel from the Gates of Paradise, Opera del Duomo Museum, Florence.

The story of Cain and Abel has been a rich source of inspiration for artists throughout history. Ghiberti’s bronze relief on the Gates of Paradise in Florence captures the drama and emotion of the tale in six scenes with the crucial moments of their story. The story of Cain and Abel is not only a tale of sin and retribution but also an exploration of human emotions and relationships. It continues to be a significant cultural and religious reference, reminding us of the complexities of human nature and the consequences of our actions.

Cain and Abel, Genesis 4:1-16 (based on the New International Version Bible translation)

1 Adam made love to his wife Eve, and she became pregnant and gave birth to Cain. 2 Later she gave birth to his brother Abel. Now Abel became a shepherd and kept flocks, and Cain worked as a farmer.

3 In the course of time Cain brought some of the fruits of the soil as an offering to the Lord. 4 And Abel also brought an offering, fat portions from some of the firstborn of his flock. The Lord looked with favor on Abel and his offering, 5 but on Cain and his offering he did not look with favor. So Cain was very angry, and his face was downcast.

6 Then the Lord said to Cain, “Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? 7 If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you may rule over it.”

8 Now Cain said to his brother Abel, “Let’s go out to the field.” While they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him.

9 Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” “I don’t know,” he replied. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” 

10 The Lord said, “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground. 11 Now you are under a curse and driven from the ground, which opened its mouth to receive your brother’s blood from your hand. 12 When you work the ground, it will no longer yield its crops for you. You will be a restless wanderer on the earth.”

13 Cain said to the Lord, “My punishment is more than I can bear. 14 Today you are driving me from the land, and I will be hidden from your presence; I will be a restless wanderer on the earth, and whoever finds me will kill me.” 15 But the Lord said to him, “Not so; anyone who kills you, Cain, will suffer vengeance seven times over.” Then the Lord put a mark on Cain so that no one who found him would kill him.

16 So Cain went away from the Lord’s presence and lived in the Land of Nod, East of Eden.

Silenus and Bacchus (c.1572) shine again in the Uffizi.

Silenus and Bacchus (c.1572) shine again in the Uffizi.

Jacopo Del Duca aka Jacopo Siciliano (Italian, 1520 – 1604)

Le Gallerie degli Uffize, Florence

After a complex restoration which lasted over six months, the bronze sculpture and one of the leading lights of the Verone Corridor on the first floor of the Uffizi Gallery is glowing again: we are talking about the large statue of Silenus with Bacchus as a Child by the sixteenth-century artist Jacopo del Duca.

Silenus with Bacchus as a Child (c.1572), Jacopo Del Duca aka Jacopo Siciliano (Italian, 1520 – 1604), Bronze, height 187cm, Le Gallerie degli Uffizi, Florence.

The restoration has been the first recovery intervention carried out on the statue in modern times. It had become necessary because of the excessive darkening of the bronze caused by many retouchings and corrections made on the surface of the Silenus over the centuries. Also, its base needed to be reinforced because of the presence of microcracks in several points.

Silenus with the Infant Bacchus, marble statue created in Rome around 1st century AD after a Greek bronze original by Lysippos from around 300 BC, discovered in Rome in the Gardens of Sallustius around 1566, height 198cm, Louvre, Paris.

The subject derives from a marble statue, now preserved in the Louvre, which is a Roman copy from the Imperial era after a bronze dating back to the late 4th century BC allegedly by the Greek sculptor Lysippos. The Louvre Silenus (the so-called Borghese Silenus) was found in the second half of the sixteenth century in a garden in Rome. The bronze copy of the Uffizi, was commissioned by Ferdinando I de’ Medici. In 1588, the Grand Duke placed the sculpture inside the gallery of Villa Medici in Rome and later moved in front of the villa’s portico. In 1787, Silenus with Bacchus as a Child was brought to Florence and displayed in the Uffizi Gallery, where it’s still found today.

In Greek mythology, Silenus was a companion and tutor to the wine god Bacchus (or in Greek Dionysus). A notorious consumer of wine, he was usually drunk and had to be supported by satyrs or carried by a donkey. But Silenus was also wise prophet and the bearer of terrible wisdom; he was described as the oldest, wisest and most drunken of the followers of Bacchus.

Drunken Silenus (c.1620), Peter Paul Rubens (Flemish, 1577 – 1640), 212x215cm, Alte Pinakothek, München.

When Bacchus was born, Hermes – the messenger of the gods – took the infant and gave it to Silenus, then a minor forest god who loved getting drunk and making wine. Silenus took young Bacchus under his care and raised the child which grew to become one of the most important gods of Greek mythology. Eventually, Silenus, from a foster father became a follower of Bacchus and he became inextricably linked with the wine god.

The Thriumph of Silenus (c.1625), Gerrit van Honthorst (Netherlandish, 1590 – 1656), 209x272cm, Palais des Beaux-Arts, Lille, France.
  • More about the restoration, click here.
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Restoration of Masaccio’s Holy Trinity, Santa Maria Novella, Florence.

Restoration of Masaccio’s Holy Trinity, Santa Maria Novella, Florence.

Holy Trinity (c.1426), Masaccio (Italian, 1401 – 1428)

Basilica di Santa Maria Novella, Florence

During restoration work it will be possible to admire closely the great and wonderful Masaccio’s Holy Trinity up close for the first time ever and see the restorers at work!

Restoration Holy Trinity (c.1426), Basilica di Santa Maria Novella, Florence.

Tommaso Guidi, known as Masaccio, was born in San Giovanni Valdarno, a village between Arezzo and Florence, on 21 December 1401. Already by October of 1418 he was working as a painter and living in Florence. Since the oldest sources report that he died at twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age, the year of his death is probably 1428.

Around 1427 Masaccio won a prestigious commission to produce a Holy Trinity for the Dominican church of Santa Maria Novella in Florence. Probably the donor is represented to the left of the Virgin in the painting, while his wife is right of St. John the Evangelist. The fresco, considered by many to be Masaccio’s masterwork, is the earliest surviving painting to use systematic linear perspective, possibly devised by Masaccio with the assistance of Brunelleschi.

Holy Trinity (c.1426), Masaccio (Italian, 1401 – 1428), fresco, 667x317cm, Basilica di Santa Maria Novella, Florence.

Masaccio started by producing a rough drawing of the composition and perspective lines on the wall. The drawing was covered with fresh plaster for making the fresco. To ensure the precise transfer of the perspective lines from the sketch to the plaster, Masaccio inserted a nail in at the vanishing point under the base of the cross and attached strings to it, which he pressed in (or carved into) the plaster. The marks of the preparatory works are still visible.

The sacred figures and the donors are represented above an image of a skeleton lying on a sarcophagus. An inscription seemingly carved into the wall above the skeleton reads: “Io fui gia quel che voi siete e quel ch’io sono voi anco sarete” (I once was what now you are and what I am, you shall yet be). This skeleton is a reminder to viewers that their time on earth is transitory. It is only through faith in the Trinity, the fresco suggests, that one overcomes this death. The Holy Spirit is seen in the form of a dove, above Jesus.

In 1570 Giorgio Vasari covered the fresco with a stone altar and a painting. The Holy Trinity fresco was rediscovered in good condition during an 18th century restoration of the Church. It was removed from the wall and reassembled on the inner wall of the facade. When another restoration was undertaken in 1952 the skeleton painted by Masaccio at the bottom of the Holy Trinity fresco was discovered and then the Holy Trinity fresco was put back in its original place. 

Restoration work as on April 9, 2024; Holy Trinity (c.1426), Masaccio (Italian, 1401 – 1428), fresco, 667x317cm, Basilica di Santa Maria Novella, Florence.
  • For visiting the Basilica di Santa Maria Novella, Florence, click here.
  • The Basilica di Santa Maria Novella is located next to the Santa Maria Novella Station in Florence., Florence. Click here for directions.
Last Supper (1450), Andrea del Castagno, Florence, Italy.

Last Supper (1450), Andrea del Castagno, Florence, Italy.

Andrea del Castagno (Italian, 1420 – 1457)

Cenacolo di Sant’Apollonia, Florence

This Last Supper is a fresco by the Italian Renaissance artist Andrea del Castagno, located in the refectory of the convent of Sant’Apollonia, now the Museo di Cenacolo di Sant’Apollonia, and accessed through a door on Via Ventisette Aprile at the corner with Santa Reparata, in Florence. The painting depicts Jesus and the Apostles during the Last Supper, with Judas, unlike all the other apostles, sitting separately on the near side of the table, as is common in depictions of the Last Supper in Christian art.

Last Supper (1450), Andrea del Castagno (Italian, 1420 – 1457), fresco, 453x975cm, Museo di Cenacolo di Sant’Apollonia, Florence.

Sant’Apollonia was a Benedictine convent of cloistered nuns, and Castagno’s fresco was not publicly known until the convent was suppressed in 1866. Thus its exclusively female audience should be considered in analyzing the work. Castagno painted a large chamber with life-sized figures that confronted the nuns at every meal. The fresco would have served as a didactic image and an inspiration to meditation on their relationship with Jesus.

Although the Last Supper is described in all four Gospels, Castagno’s fresco seems most closely aligned with the account in the Gospel of John, in which eleven of the apostles are confused and the devil “enters” Judas when Jesus announces one of his followers will betray him. Saint John’s posture of innocent slumber neatly contrasts with Judas’s tense, upright pose and exaggeratedly pointed facial features. Except for Judas, Christ and his apostles, including the recumbent Saint John, all have a translucent disc of a halo above their heads.

Portrait of Andrea del Castagno, from the series “Serie degli Uomini i più illustri nella pittura, scultura e architettura” (c.1770), made by Giovanni Battista Cecchi, engraving, 17x12cm, British Museum, London.

Andrea del Castagno (1420 – 1457) was an Italian Renaissance painter in Florence, influenced chiefly by Masaccio and Giotto. In 1447 Castagno worked in the refectory of the Benedictine nuns at Sant’Apollonia in Florence, painting, in the lower part, a fresco of the Last Supper, accompanied above by other scenes portraying the Passion of Christ: the Crucifixion, Entombment, and Resurrection, which are now damaged. The fresco of the Last Supper is in an excellent state of conservation, in part because it remained behind a plaster wall for more than a century. Many important Florentine families had daughters in the convent at Sant’Apollonia, so painting there probably brought Andrea to Florentine fame. Del Castagno’s Last Supper may have been seen by Leonardo da Vinci before he painted his own Last Supper, about 50 years later. Castagno died of the plague in 1457. 

Museo di Cenacolo di Sant’Apollonia, Florence.
Last Supper (1525), Andrea del Sarto, Florence, Italy.

Last Supper (1525), Andrea del Sarto, Florence, Italy.

Andrea del Sarto (Italian, 1486 – 1531)

Cenacolo di Andrea del Sarto, Florence.

In the old refectory of the San Salvi monastery on the outskirts of Florence, Andrea del Sarto painted the life-like Last Supper. Initially, the artist painted the sub-arch, which took 18 days. Work was suspended for about fifteen years, and then he was called back to fresco the Last Supper properly and completed it in 46 days. During the siege of Florence it was one of the very few surviving works outside the walls of Florence, the only one of importance, and it seems that the imperial soldiers were so enchanted by its surprising modernity that they spared it. In 1534 the monastery became a female monastery and then a strict enclosure was introduced, which made the work de facto invisible until the monastery was suppressed. 

Last Supper (1525), Andrea del Sarto (Italian, 1486 – 1531), fresco, 468x871cm, Museo del Cenacolo di Andrea del Sarto, Florence.

At this Last Supper, the apostles are seated, shocked by the announcement of the betrayal just uttered by Jesus. Judas, as Leonardo already did in his Last Supper, is not separated from the table on this side as in so many other Last Suppers, but is at the right hand of Jesus, faithful to the Gospel text of John with his hand on his chest to demonstrate his disbelief, as he receives a piece of soaked bread from Jesus. Jesus had just told the group that one of them will betray him, the one he will rech out to with a piece of bread.

Selfportrait (1528), Andrea del Sarto (Italian, 1486 – 1531), fresco, 51x38cm, Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence.

Andrea del Sarto (1486 – 1530) was an Italian painter from Florence, whose career flourished during the High Renaissance and early Mannerism. Although highly regarded during his lifetime as an artist senza errori or without errors, his renown was eclipsed after his death by that of his contemporaries Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Raphael.

Museo del Cenacolo di Andrea del Sarto, Florence.
Jael, Judith, David and Samson. True Heroes!

Jael, Judith, David and Samson. True Heroes!

Jael, Samson, Judith and David are heroes from the Hebrew Bible and the Old Testament who risked their own lives to save their people from the enemy. They are unlikely but true heroes, charming, clever and cunning, and in the case of Samson fighting with physical strength. Paintings with these true heroes had often a political or moralising message. Their stories were associated with the underdog defeating an oppressor; a small country fighting victoriously against the big enemy. The four are commonly depicted as follows: Jael holds the hammer and peg with which she killed Sisera (Judges 4:17-23), Judith displays the head of Holofernes and holds the sword with which she decapitated him (Judith 13:6-10), David leans on the gigantic sword with which he cut off the head of Goliath (I Sam.17: 51), and finally Samson who holds the jawbone with which he slew a thousand Philistines (Judges 15:15-20).

Artemisia Gentileschi (Italian, 1593 – 1654), Jael and Sisera (1620), 93×128cm, Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest.

The topic of the canvas is the moment in which Jael is about to kill Sisera, a general of the enemy. Jael welcomed Sisera into her tent and covered him with a blanket. Sisera asked Jael for a drink of water; she gave him milk instead and comforted him so that he fell asleep in her lap. Quietly, Jael took a hammer and drove a tent peg through Sisera’s skull while he was sleeping, killing him instantly. Jael was the woman with the honour of defeating the enemy and their army.

Andrea Mantegna (Italian, c.1431 – 1506), Judith with the Head of Holofernes (c.1497), Tempera on Panel, 30x18cm, National Gallery of Art, Washington.

Besieged by the Assyrians, the beautiful Israelite widow Judith went into the enemy camp of Holofernes to win his confidence. During a great banquet Holofernes became drunk, and later in his tent Judith seized his sword and cut off his head. Often an elderly female servant is depicted taking away the head in a bag or basket. Look at the Mantegna painting, you can see Holofernes on the bed, just by way of one of his feet! Their leader gone; the enemy was soon defeated by the Israelites. This ancient heroine was understood in the Renaissance as a symbol of civic virtue, of intolerance of tyranny, and of a just cause triumphing over evil. The story of Judith and Holofernes comes from the “Book of Judith”, a text that’s part of the Old Testament of the Catholic Bible. The Book of Judith is excluded from the Hebrew and Protestant Bible, but still considered an important additional historical text.

Donatello or Donato di Niccolò di Betto Bardi (Italian, c.1386 – 1466), David (c.1440), bronze, 158cm, Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence, Italy.

This is the story of the Israelite boy David and the Philistine giant Goliath. The Israelites are fighting the Philistines, whose champion – Goliath – repeatedly offers to meet the Israelites’ best warrior in single combat to decide the whole battle. None of the trained Israelite soldiers is brave enough to fight Goliath, until David – a shepherd boy who is too young to be a soldier – accepts the challenge. The Israelite leader offers David armor and weapons, but the boy is untrained and refuses them. Instead, he goes out with his sling, and confronts the enemy. He hits Goliath in the head with a stone from his sling, knocking the giant down, and then grabs Goliath’s sword and cuts off his head. The Philistines withdraw and the Israelites are saved. David’s courage and faith illustrates the triumph of good over evil. Donatello’s bronze statue is famous as the first unsupported standing work of bronze cast during the Renaissance, and the first freestanding nude male sculpture made since antiquity. It depicts David with an enigmatic smile, posed with his foot on Goliath’s severed head just after defeating the giant. The youth is completely naked, apart from a laurel-topped hat and boots, and bears the sword of Goliath. The phrase “David and Goliath” has taken on a more popular meaning denoting an underdog situation, a contest wherein a smaller, weaker opponent faces a much bigger, stronger adversary.

Salomon de Bray (Dutch, 1597 – 1664), Samson with the Jawbone (1636), 64x52cm, Getty Center, Los Angeles.

The biblical account states that Samson was a Nazirite, and that he was given immense strength to aid him against his enemies and allow him to perform superhuman feats, including slaying a lion with his bare hands and massacring an entire enemy army of Philistines using only the jawbone of a donkey. Holding the jawbone as his attribute, Samson looks upward, perhaps to God. The great strongman just slew a thousand Philistines with that jawbone. Overcome by thirst, he then drank from the rock at Lechi, a name that also means “jawbone” in Hebrew. Due to a mistaken translation in the Dutch Bible, some artists, like Salomon de Bray on the paining above, depicted Samson with a jawbone and water dripping out of the bone, rather than the rock issuing water.

Jael, Judith, David and Samson are just a few of the many heroes depicted in art. These four are exceptionally brave. Through their courage their people found victory and freedom. The message these four send, is to be brave in difficult times. Keep hope, keep faith, and set a step when there is the opportunity. It can change history, for oneself, and maybe for the world!

Jael, Judith, David and Samson; a print series.

In 1588 Hendrick Goltzius designed a series of four Heroes and Heroines from the Old Testament, after which Jacob Matham made the engravings. The print series could refer to events during the Dutch Revolt or The Eighty Years’ War (1568 – 1648), an armed conflict between The Netherlands under the leadership of William of Orange (“The Silent”) and Spain under King Philips II, the sovereign of The Netherlands. An end was reached in 1648 with the Peace of Münster when Spain recognised the Dutch Republic as an independent country. It’s the unlikely hero and heroine fighting and defeating the enemy; a print series with stories from the old bible books, translated into a contemporary political message.

On the drawings and the corresponding prints Jael, Judit, David and Samson are all portrayed full-length, in the foreground, with their characteristic attributes, while in the background their heroic deed is depicted. Jael holds the hammer and peg with which she killed Sisera, Judith displays the head of Holofernes and holds the sword with which she decapitated him, David leans on the gigantic sword with which he cut off the head of Goliath, that he carries in his left hand, finally Samson who holds the jawbone with which he slew a thoudanss Philistines. The preparatory drawings all still exist and are in the collection of the Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam. Hereunder on the left the drawings by Goltzius and on the right the prints as engraved by Matham. Once engraved into a copper plate and after printing, the print becomes a “negative” of the original drawing.

Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), Jael (c.1588), drawing, 26×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Jacob Matham, engraver (Dutch, 1571 – 1631) after a drawing by Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), Jael with hammer and tent peg (c.1588), engraving, 27×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), Judith (c.1588), drawing, 26×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Jacob Matham, engraver (Dutch, 1571 – 1631) after a drawing by Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), Judith with Holofernes’ head and the sword (c.1588), engraving, 27×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), David (c.1588), drawing, 27×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Jacob Matham, engraver (Dutch, 1571 – 1631) after a drawing by Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), David with Goliath’s head (c.1588), engraving, 27×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), Samson (c.1588), drawing, 26×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.
Jacob Matham, engraver (Dutch, 1571 – 1631) after a drawing by Hendrick Goltzius (Dutch, 1558 – 1617), Samson with the jawbone (c.1588), engraving, 27×17cm, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam.

Hans Memling (1430 – 1494)

Hans Memling from Bruges, Belgium, died on this day August 11 in 1494. Besides producing the standard devotional paintings, he also became one of the most sought-after Netherlandish portrait painters. He invented an unique and totally new style of portrait, with a landscape in the background, as if the sitter is portrayed outside or in front of a window.

Hans Memling (1430 – 1494), “Portrait of a Man with a Letter” (c1485), 35x26cm, Oil on Panel, Le Gallerie Degli Uffizi, Florence, Italy.

Memling’s clientele was quite international. Bruges had many visitors from Florence, Tuscany, as the Italians and the Flemish were partners in textile trading and banking. The Medici family even had their permanent representatives in Bruges. These wealthy merchant guys with haircuts fashionable in Florence, asked to be portrayed against a Flemish background.

Hans Memling (1430 – 1494), “Portrait of a Young Man” (c1472), 38x27cm, Oil on Panel, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

The portraits were shipped to Florence and many of these are now in Italian museums. Already a few years after the first Memling portraits were sent home to Florence, painters from Tuscany started to use similar Flemish backgrounds in their own paintings. Memling is the perfect example of the influence of Netherlandish art on the Italian Renaissance. Memling revolutionized Italian painting.