Judith Beheading Holofernes

I stumbled upon a Caravaggio. I never really thought I would. Wouldn’t I know ahead of time if there was going to be a Caravaggio where I was going? These are masterpieces; they wouldn’t be hiding just anywhere so that I might happen upon one. But stumble upon one I did.

I walked into the room, one of the apartments of Taddeo Barberini and Anna Colonna, and that was the first painting that caught my attention. Judith and Holofernes. For half a second (a half second that I am ashamed of), I thought, this can’t be right, I saw this in the Uffizi. That was the Artemisia Gentileschi painting of the same subject. I only had a brief glimpse of that one, enough to recognize it before I dashed off in search of leather. It’s a tough choice in Florence. The choice between leather and art.

Here, the blood spurts from Holofernes’ neck, but Judith doesn’t seem particularly frightened or enraged, as I was so certain she would be. She seems intent, as though concentrating very hard, but managing to look beautiful without spilling a drop of blood on her pristine dress. The nurse (I assume she’s a nurse; at any rate, the older woman in the picture) looks more emotionally involved, as she holds Judith’s skirt back for her, hands clenched over the folds of fabric.

Holofernes’ expression is one that I find hard to place. But when you think about it, how do you expect someone to look when their head is being cut off? I like to think that he knows what is about to happen, just before Judith acts. I dreg the depths of my memory in an attempt to recall the whole story. Why is Judith killing him? I come up empty, remembering only that Holofernes was evil, which in itself says very little.

The lighting makes the entire painting into a scene from a drama. As if these are characters playing out their parts on a stage, but that blood is real. This is no school children’s play. As I read more about the story, this rings true again and again.

Judith, cunning woman that she is, plots to kill the evil Holofernes by getting him drunk, and then beheading him. This is the classic tale of virtue overcoming evil, and we see this in the contrast between Holofernes’ violent body spasm and the inaudible scream that we know issued from his lips before he died, and Judith, distant and elegant. She is committing murder but it is justified because Holofernes is evil and she is saving us from him.

I keep thinking about the painting long after I leave Palazzo Barberini. More than the gruesomeness of Holofernes’ semi-attached head, I am impressed by Judith’s stalwart, yet elegant look. Her calm countenance in the midst of chaos is comforting. She remains resilient.