“The Incredulity of Saint Thomas” by Caravaggio (1602). As a shock jock, he chose outrageous subjects for his paintings. When you turn to look at them now, he tiptoes behind you and shouts “BOO!” in your ears. Worse, he gets wildly and vividly anatomical in his art.
And just when you think you’ve had enough and are rushing for the exit, he grabs you with a chokehold and dunks you into his palette after making space for you on his canvas. Whether you like it or not, you are now one of his characters.
Your soul jumps out of your skin. You suffer a hermeneutical fracture. Caravaggio has boldly reordered reality for you without so much as asking your permission. Like an Old Testament prophet, he has boorishly elbowed you toward an alternative version of existence.
He’s done it to me many times: At London’s National Gallery with “ Salome receiving the […]
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