Madonna and Child with Saints Catherine of Alexandria, Leonard, Augustine, and Apollonia c. 1520

Madonna and Child with Saints Catherine of Alexandria, Leonard, Augustine, and Apollonia

Girolamo dai Libri 

Italian, Verona 1474-1555 Verona 

Tempera and oil on canvas

1520

Upon entering the Robert Lehman Wing, you are presented with a stunning masterpiece in the shape of an arc, hugged by a 17th century-style gold frame. This painting, originally created for the Augustine Church of San Leonardo in the 15th century, has an unmatched presence that only justifies its original home. The frame’s close attention to detail mirrors the transcendence of the meticulous Roman Catholic-style architecture. The piece’s unusual setting, however, leaves its audience wondering what fascinating story is captured between these immense, gold frames. Most works produced during this time, specifically ones made for religious purposes, were typically set inside the church, or in homes. The few paintings that did happen to capture any greenery, however, were rarely produced, as Roman Catholic art from this period primarily focused on the religious subjects. In other cases, backgrounds were monotonous to accentuate and direct the viewer’s attention to the painting's larger significance: the Church. Yet in Girolamo dai Libri’s Madonna and Child with Saints Catherine of Alexandria, Leonard, Augustine, and Apollonia, we are faced with quite the opposite. Interestingly enough, more than half of this painting reveals the botanic nature of the background. The lack of architectural background only supports its detailed foreground. Each saint depicted in the piece has a deeper connection to the Italian working class. They epitomize several jobs, educational roles, and the quotidian European lifestyle. This connection is visually represented by the curved path connecting the saints and the Catholic people of the town located in the upper left corner. I would now like to bring your attention to the middle of the piece, past the child, and past Madonna. If you look closer, you begin to realize that what you thought was a disconfigured tree, is actually two separate plants. A bush and a branch. Here, the branch serves as the home for the colorful bird. Traditionally, peacocks are a symbolic representation of immortality, which led me to wonder if the juxtaposition between the dead branch that the bird is so peacefully perched on, and the lively bush, too, had religious significance. Death and Resurrection, possibly. This new insight now justifies just how abundant the background of this piece is. The background is equally as important as the foreground, if not even more. One saint, however, caught my attention; Saint Apollonia, the patron saint of dentistry. Her obvious relationship to Apollo and Greek mythology is what reeled me in, but her story is what kept me fascinated. Because of her unique history and role in the Catholic religion, many Italian women were granted the beauty of the name. 

〜

When Michael Corleone returned to Sicily, he met a girl with the name Apollonia. What makes this segment of the film so special, is its ability to pull its audience into the perspective of someone who has never been more infatuated with a woman until now. As the frames play along our screen, we slowly begin to understand her lamb-like innocence that is so universally adored, simultaneously with Michael. Details like the rose of her cheeks or the sparkle of her eye are revealed as Michael begins to fall deeply in love. 

Later scenes illustrate the eternal love that blossoms between Apollonia and Michael through both traditional and Catholic representations of Italian romance. The architecture, the score, even down to the haze of the lens used in this portion of Stanley Kubrick’s “The Godfather” are all details captured centuries earlier, in Girolamo dai Libri’s Madonna and Child with Saints Catherine of Alexandria, Leonard, Augustine, and Apollonia.

〜

Saint Apollonia, draped in a crimson-colored robe and forest green underdress, holds a pair of pincers. Apollonia is commonly illustrated with a tooth held by a pair of pincers to remind viewers of her traumatic end. Tortured by the Romans, Saint Apollonia was taken and had nonconsensually gotten her teeth extracted. Although subtle, the pain in her facial expression pairs perfectly with the symbolic objects she was painted with. As she looks away from Madonna and her child, she insinuates discomfort with any religious ceremony as it is only a reminder to her life on Earth. A similar facial expression can be seen on Saint Catherine of Alexandria. The two female saints sharing the same feelings allude to a deeper meaning and possible connection between them. Saint Catherine, however, seems to be focused on something in the lower left. Clearly, her focus is not on Madonna or her child, but on an entity down below. The word left in Latin is sinister, a word affiliated to the devil or satanic ideas. Her protective role as a saint is important to note here, as in this painting, she is positioned between the devil and the child, actively shielding the child from sudden death. Saint Leonard can be seen standing on Catherine’s right side, admiring the angels down below. Because he is the patron saint of women in labor, his admiration for the angels, the guardians of Madonna and her child, is upheld by his facial expression towards them. The fourth saint, Saint Augustine is the only one of the 9 subjects that make up this piece that keeps direct eye contact with his audience. Saint Augustine is said to be one of the most important Catholic thinkers after Saint Paul. His intelligence is masterfully depicted through this eye contact that can be felt by his audience. His gaze indicates an unfathomable sense of knowledge- as if he knows something we don’t and never will. 

Every detail in Madonna and Child with Saints Catherine of Alexandria, Leonard, Augustine, and Apollonia unlocks a new layer of fantasy and insight into Girolamo dai Libri’s defining perspective on Roman Catholicism.