The Course of Evolution

Throughout his career, Caravaggio would feel a need revert to certain themes. He was searching for suitable vocabulary, a personal language. Hence, it was through repetition of a subject - a subject vigorously pursued, scrutinized, and analyzed - that Caravaggio learned to bring out the most in himself as a painter
Supper at Emmaus,London, National Gallery.
Light is used for dramatic effect.
The food set out on the table shows that Caravaggio still enjoyed doing still lifes. Here, the crisply roasted chicken, the roll, the crumbs, the basket of fruit all participate in the artist's staging of a still life, his staging of colors. The red of Christ's robe matches the duller red of the innkeeper's tunic. Light is used for dramatic effect here: Christ's shadow is transformed into a halo in the negative in a manner that underscores this figure in the midst of the composition.
Supper at Emmaus, Milan, Pinacoteca di Brera
All trace of painterly self-indulgence has been erased.
Caravaggio took up this subject again in 1610, the year of his death. We see the same Christ, the same table, same still life, same associates. But this version is in an entitely different register. The table, built up out of horizontals, is handled anamorphically All trace of painterly self-indulgence has been erased with respect to what is shown on the table and the expressions on the various faces. The camieu (form of 'grisaille' of a single color but in varied tones) runs from olive green to sand, in a whole range of tones, including black. Nothing is added for effect. The only color is the bluish gray of Christ's robe. The economy of means found in this painting prepares the way for Caravaggism: it comprises all that the young Velasquez, Zurburan, George de la Tour, Le Nain, or Vermeer would take up.
Interestingly, Vermeer and Caravaggio both knew exactly how to make a camaieu of grays using a bright blue. One wonders whether Vermeer ever caught a glimpse of this painting? David with the Head of Goliath, Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum.
A sibylic gaze, the gaze of a prophet.
Illuminated by a shaft of supernatural light, David steps out from the night, his expression emptied of all content by a divine vision. He casts about a sibylic gaze, the gaze of a prophet. Holding the enormous and very human head of Goliath in his hand, David himself seems to be holding death in abeyance. Goliath seems on the verge of howling with anger and rage. Both faces - basking in light in somewhat similar fashion - form a staggering dialogue. The marvelously built up composition represents an iconographic reversal: David seems frail in the face of the enormity of Goliath's head, yet projects - in the horizontality granted to his arms, shoulders, and sword - restrained and decisive strength.

The most handsome face of David, carved out by the violent lighting full of shadow, is typical of this artist's clearly defined chiaroscuro. His apparel, a cloth drape, is almost absurdly chiselled out, too strongly. The opposition between black and white bestows a form of presence on David, a suit of armor so to speak. Did Caravaggio paint this work to produce certain effects? Detail of David's head, of Goliath.
The belt. Note the transition from white to ocher in the drape, the technical skill, the speed of the brush. Some of the brushstrokes, taken individually, foretell what would show up in the work of a Velasquez, a Franz Hals. Notice the freedom, the skillfulness of the brushstrokes.
David with the Head of Goliath, Rome, Galleria Borghese.
The dialogue here is between the youth of the living figure and the maturity of the dead one.
In this version, the expressions on the faces of David and Goliath are more problematic, tenser. David has triumphed, but is it really a triumph? He conveys pain and anguish in the face of Death, in the face of the mortal blow he just has dealt. Unlike the Vienna version, he is not at all triumphant here; he seems almost at a loss over the responsibility of taking someone's life. Tension-filled melancholy transpires. Chiaroscuro is taken to extremes. Note the visionary manner in which the body is handled, the way it has been deliberately distorted so that the figure seems even frailer. The expression on David's face shows commiseration, pity. Usually, David does triumph, but here he seems on the verge of crying over what he just did. Notice how the scene as a whole has been simplified. Everything has become more hieroglyphic. David has none of the allure shown in the preceding version. We are presented with meditative sadness, a total lack of setting, the immensity of the night, and a tautened dialogue between the youth of the living figure and the maturity of the dead head. Clearly, this version follows suit and perfects the preceding one. The cloth draping here, in black and white, is among the most beautiful ever achieved by Caravaggio.
Goliath is no longer a simply frightening mask: surprisingly, the expression on his face is more of resignation, as if he were expressing, from the realm of the dead, his acceptance of his own death. The details are so compelling that art historians tend to consider the head as a self-portait. Did Caravaggio actually wish to immortalize himself behind the features of Goliath, between the latter's great pain and the furious Medusa's terrible shriek of revolt? Be that as it may, one thing is sure: once one has seen this face, been captured by its gaze, it remains unforgettable.
Saint John the Baptist, Rome, Musei Capitolini. A St. John the Baptist reminiscent of a Greek shepherd.

Saint John the Baptist, Basel, Kunstmuseum, Provenance details not yet established.
Traditionally, John the Baptist is portrayed as an adolescent, accompanied by a lamb, prefiguring the Passion of Christ. This version is a far cry from the High Renaissance portraits in Florentine and Roman art, which present the saint as an ephebe in the Greek manner.
The young man shown here is typically 17th-century Italian, with a pallid complexion, handled with no concessions and devoid of the idealism imposed on art by preceding generations. John the Baptist is portrayed in the realist fashion that would become the signature style of Caravaggio.
What strikes our attention the most in this work is the way light is distributed. The background is plunged in total darkness. No hint of the setting: a site empty of any familiar objects, landscape, or grotto. It is as if a backdrop had been unfurled behind the figure, a backdrop representing night. In the midst of this dark brown, almost black night, the light aggressively makes certain elements stand out: the youth's shoulder, leg, and profile, together with the body of the lamb.
The technical term for this painting with light effects is "chiaroscuro". Caravaggio is the inventor of chiaroscuro used as the main agent of the drama the artist depicts on canvas. Saint John the Baptist, Rome, Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica, Palazzo Corsini.
A man in the street.
St. John the Baptist is portrayed as older here, a man in the street, whose facial features bespeak a closed and commonplace mind. The round neckline of his attire reveals traces of a tan. This version was found to be shocking at the time.
Saint John the Baptist, Rome, Galleria Borghese.
An ambiguous portrait.
The seductive allure of the first version has been completely abandoned here, but this time the face is surprising: it bears the empty expression of someone whose eyes never registered anything. As if he were in a stupor, in the word's etymological sense, but at the same time hollow, ready to resonate. This is an extremely ambiguous portrait. Saint John the Baptist, Kansas City, W. Rockhill Nelson Gallery, Atkins Museum.
Here, the figure's heroism is more marked, space is taken up in more definite fashion. The play of light and shadow allows the ambiguity of the saint to come through on his face. His face seems peaceful, but the clearcut demarcation between shadow and light lends it violence. It is as if the figure were sculpted out of shadow and light. This version is considered the most similar to Michelangelo in its monumentality. But unlike the latter's epic genius, the monumentalism in this work by Caravaggio takes place in silence. A work of total silence, total serenity, despite the dramatic effects of light and dark.