Adoration of the Shepherds

A typical example of Gargiulo’s output, this painting depicts a subject to which the painter turned with a certain frequency. Of the artist’s several interpretations of this passage from the Gospel of Luke in which the newborn baby Jesus is visited by the shepherds (Lk 2:7-10), all of them painted at a later date than this one, particularly noteworthy for its elaborate and monumental scenic structure is the version now in the picture gallery of the Certosa di San Martino in Naples (fig. 1) from the historical collections of that monastery¹, the setting for most of the artist’s activity. Equally important, for its critical and exhibition history, is a version in the Molinari Pradelli Collection paired with a Circumcision²; and the same subject also peopleshis only known attempt at large-figure domestic painting (to the best of our current knowledge): an initialled canvas now in the Limentani Collection (fig. 2)³, where one can clearly detect an interest in certain “classical” examples of the “pastoral” genre that made inroads into naturalistic painting in Naples from the 1630s onwards, specifically in the circle dominated by Jusepe de Ribera, and whose most typical expression is found in the work of the so-called Master of the Annunciation to the Shepherds⁴. Equally exceptional in this latter painting is the adoption of such a rustic style as that of the anonymous master, when Gargiulo’s more typical features are the lightness of touch and openness of vision even in the most dramatic scenes in his repertoire as a chronicler of tragic events in 17th century Naples.

The painting under discussion here, which is well-known to scholarship, belongs, on the other hand, to an earlier moment in Gargiulo’s career, a moment closely linked in its delicate brushwork to the painterly sensitivity of the younger Bernardo Cavallino. Indeed, it is no mere coincidence that the Adoration of the Shepherds was initially attributed to Cavallino by as sharp a connoisseur as Carlo Volpe, albeit only orally⁵, and that in a recent monographic work on Cavallino the picture is used to illustrate the Neapolitan circle that surrounded that sophisticated petit-maître⁶.

The philological rediscovery of Cavallino’s artistic personality, which essentially began in the 1920s on the basis of a trace in De Dominici’s Lives, has been accompanied by an overestimation of the artist’s historical merits. It is common knowledge, for instance, that, aside from his only surviving altarpiece, a St. Cecilia from Sant’Antoniello delle Monache now in Capodimonte (inv. Q 1795), the remainder of Cavallino’s output enjoyed only private circulation. Yet caught up in the enthusiasm of his rediscovery, undoubtedly supported by the beauty of his best work, critics have ended up attributing to him every example of the graceful, tender sentimentalism that was a feature of a large part of Neapolitan painting in the second quarter of the 17th century – particularly in work designed for domestic use – with all the attributive errors that that has triggered⁷. Yet if we examine De Dominici’s work with greater care, by comparison with the more reclusive Cavallino, Gargiulo acquires the stature of a veritable leading master capable with his teaching of influencing the direction and taste of a substantial network of followers and pupils, and he could quite easily have shared that delicate touch rather than simply imitating it.

Thus, there can be no doubt concerning the painting’s attribution. The cut of the figures, the vibrant landscape and, above all, the architectural setting of the crib testifying to his familiarity with quadraturista Viviano Codazzi who was in Naples from 1634 to 1648 and who frequently collaborated with him, are all unmistakable. This kind of background is precisely Gargiulo’s most recognisable contribution to the figurative culture of his day, indeed so much so that his “landscapes” also complete a number of what we might call “hybrid” paintings that emerged from Artemisia Gentileschi’s workshop in Naples, such as the companion pieces depicting the Triumph of David and Bathsheba at her Bath now in the John and Mable Ringling Museum of Art in Sarasota⁸.

It is common knowledge that the flourishing workshop that Artemisia set up in Naples constitutes a very intricate historiographical problem. According to the sources and to the evidence gleaned from her output, the brilliant artist collaborated – or at least, to put it in more nuanced terms, interacted – with some of the best local artists, such as Massimo Stanzione, Paolo Finoglio, Andrea Vaccaro, Onofrio Palumbo, Gargiulo and Cavallino. In fact, contact between the latter two painters appears to have consolidated thanks precisely to Artemisia’s mediation, specifically in such pictures as the monumental Susannah now in a private collection in London⁹, possibly the same painting as the one that De Dominici saw in the home of Luigi Romeo, in which, under Artemisia’s guiding hand, it appears possible also to detect the ‘specialist’ work of two artists, Gargiulo for the landscape and Cavallino for the figures of two old men.

We know nothing of the provenance of the Adoration of the Shepherds prior to its appearance on the market in 1978, nor (like most of Gargiulo’s easel paintings) can it be linked to any definite documentary evidence allowing us to determine its origin or date. As things stand today, the only evidence compatible in some way with the work under discussion here – based essentially on its dimensions, although such dimensions are shared by many other paintings – is the mention of a picture «4 and 3 palms» in size depicting the «Nativity of Our Lord», recorded under Gargiulo’s name – along with an «Our Lord in Emmaus Breaking Bread» – in the collection of the Duchess Isabella Coppola, the widow of Gaetano Coppola, Duke of Canzano and Prince of Montefalcone, in 1724¹⁰.

In stylistic terms, the picture appears to date from roughly the same period as, or shortly after, an Adoration of the Magi initialled “DG” and also close to Cavallino in style¹¹, which, in relation both to its iconography and to its size, could well stand beside our canvas in an ideal diptych. For a more specific chronological reference, however, we need to look at the large Last Supper painted for the church of Santa Maria della Sapienza in Naples and recorded in 1641¹², in which show facial types very similar to that of Saint Joseph in the Adoration.

The connection with a later sketch of a shepherd with a lamb now in the Staatliche Museen in Berlin¹³, occasionally (and mechanically) alluded to in literature, appears, on closer inspection, to be devoid of any substance, not least on account of the chronological gap separating the two works.