entry Jan. 2009
Palazzo Zevallos Stigliano & the Last Caravaggio
Palazzo
Zevallos, the
site of the main Intesa Bank on via Toledo has a
remarkable history, both architecturally and culturally.
You'd really need one of those H.G. Wells The Time Machine
time-lapse gizmos so you could watch a film of all 370
years of the existence of the building in a few minutes.
You'd see workers scurrying about in a blur to put up
the prolific Cosimo Fanzago's
original Baroque marvel back in 1639 — the ornate
facade, sumptuous portal in marble and piperno,
the tiered internal courtyard, etc.; then see
all the changes — the fires and reconstruction on two
occasions (Masaniello's Revolt
in 1647 and the 1799 Neapolitan
Republic) and see all the architectural add-ons
and take-aways as the building changed hands a dozen
times in all those years.
The most significant change was in the
1920s, when it became the property of the Banca
Commerciale
Italiana
(now Banca Intesa).
Architect Luigi Platania
adapted the building to its new function as a bank: the internal courtyard was transformed and made into a
public reception room; the mezzanine was opened up with
a series of art nouveau-style balconies, and the large
empty space was covered by a glass roof in the floral
style of the time. Outdoors became indoors. The only
part of the building that retains the 17th-century
Baroque characteristics of the original Fanzago design
is the splendid entrance (image, right). Recent work has
restored the 1920s remake of the interior: veined
marble, wood, explosive colors. There really is a soft
glow to the place as you walk in.
Culturally, the most important change
is that the piano
nobile of the building (no, not a royal musical
instrument, but rather the floor above the ground floor
in large old buildings in Italy, where the view was
better!) has been transformed into an art gallery. There
are significant works by Gaspar
van Wittel and landscapes by Pitloo of the Posillipo School; the
centerpiece of the collection, however, is the last work
of that unhappy and angry genius, Michelangelo Merisi,
known as Caravaggio.
Martyrdom of Saint Ursula
(detail)
The
work is Martyrdom of Saint Ursula,
done in 1610 in Naples. It depicts the brutal murder of
Ursula by the king of the Huns. The truly interesting
thing in the painting — that which draws the eye away
from even the central act and grisly theme of the
painting, itself — is that it contains another of
Caravaggio's self-portraits; he has gone from his
youthful rendition of himself as a delicate Bacchus, and
later as the severed head of Goliath, to this — witness
to a foul crime. He is one of only five figures in the
painting, seen standing behind Ursula with utter anguish
on his face, in torment to the point, perhaps, of only
wishing release from the travail that was, indeed, his
own life. That came to pass a short time later when he
died ill and alone on the way to Rome.
The painting ended up in the collection
of the Banca Intesa
after many years of wandering, indeed after many years
of debate over whether or not it was even a genuine
Caravaggio. As recently as 1963 it was displayed in
Naples with a question-marked ascription to Mattia Preti.
Scholarly opinion has now decided that it is the real
thing. (I'm not sure what the problem was; maybe Ursula
looks too serene —stunned but serene.) Restoration was
done in 2003/4 at the Istituto Centrale per il Restauro
in Rome. It confirmed the painting’s authenticity beyond
doubt and restored the original dimensions (modified by
an enlargement carried out probably in the 18th
century).
Martyrdom of Saint Ursula is on
permanent display in the Banca Intesa, but has toured to other
locations, notably the Borghese
Gallery of Rome, the National Gallery in London, the Museu
Nacional
d’Art
de Catalunya
in Barcelona, and the Rijksmuseum of Amsterdam.
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