And in the red corner… Amsterdam's comparison between Rembrandt and Caravaggio demonstrates how different these two great artists are, argues Samson Spanier

Apollo, May, 2006 by Samson Spanier

When in 1629 Constantijn Huygens, secretary of the Stadholder Frederik Hendrik and a champion of the arts, visited Rembrandt and Jan Lievens in their studio, he advised them to travel to Italy to complete their educations. The artists replied, however, that they could see plenty of Italian pictures in the Netherlands. Many of those pictures were works then ascribed to Caravaggio. To those pictures could be added those of Dutch followers of Caravaggio, who had seen his works in Italy.

The Van Gogh Museum's enjoyable exhibition comparing Rembrandt with Caravaggio appropriately opens with an eloquent demonstration that the inspiration for Rembrandt's chiaroscuro and unidealised models, for instance in his St Paul Writing (1630), can be traced back through the Dutch Caravaggisti, such as Hornthorst's Mocking of Christ, to Caravaggio, whose Martyrdom of St Andrew (1607) shows the saint with a sunburnt neck in a raking fight that casts deep shadows over his ribcage. The influence is emphasised in the catalogue, where Volker Manuth publishes a new reference to Caravaggios in 17th-century Dutch auctions, taking the known total to 22.

The great benefit of this exhibition, however, is the demonstration that Rembrandt and Caravaggio used light, colour and spatial construction completely differently, so undermining the comparisons between the two artists that began when Count Francesco Algarotti described Caravaggio as 'il Rembrandte dell'Italia' in 1762. This is achieved by hanging side by side a work by each artist, allowing close comparison, in conjunction with Ernst van der Wetering's and Margriet van Eikema-Hommes's catalogue essay. For example, Caravaggio's Judith and Holofernes (1599-1600) has a dark background, and every surface is modelled with maximum relief, with maximum colour saturation in the highlights. The figures exist in one plane. It is paired with Rembrandt's Blinding of Samson, (c. 1635) which, by contrast, has a medium-dark background, and models every object within a narrow tonal range chosen to push it forward or back according to its distance from the picture plane. The man with the halberd is dark so as to lift him from the background.

The catalogue instead occasionally mentions a genuine similarity between the artists: their common Italian heritage. Both their paintings of the Holy Family are Italianate in their colours and pyramidal structure. Rembrandt's Flora (1635) was inspired by Titian's, which was probably then in Amsterdam. Most revealing is the observation that Michelangelo's Rape of Ganymede provided both the composition for Rembrandt's version of the subject, and the figure of the boy in Caravaggio's Omnia Vincit Amor (1602). However, the catalogue does not mention that Rembrandt owned numerous Italian prints and paintings, that he drew copies of Leonardo's Last Supper, that Vasari and Castiglione were translated into Dutch during his life, and that he digested much Italian art via Rubens. The absence of a catalogue essay on this subject, coupled with the format of a single entry covering each pair of works, leads to the assertion of some exaggerated similarities. Of Rembrandt's Belshazzar's Feast (c. 1635) and Caravaggio's London Supper at Emmaus (1601): 'Each artist has recognised that the essential dement in each story is concerned with gesture'. Should it not be mentioned that both artists were influenced by Leonardo's Last Supper, in which a dinner is interrupted by an event to which every figure reacts with emphatic gestures?

However, the catalogue tightly states that there is a point of close comparison in the ambiguity of their figures. Rembrandt's Titianesque Flora (1635) and Caravaggio's Bacchus with Fruit (c. 1593) are both, simultaneously, pagan gods, idealised humans and imperfect humans. But the common heritage is downplayed: Caravaggio would have known Leonardo's ungodly St Johns. Much the same can be said for dark backgrounds. Caravaggio's darkness must have been inspired by both Leonardo and north Italian painters such as Titian; while the old Rembrandt was probably also thinking of Titian or his followers--he owned a Bassano night scene.

When the two artists are considered as reacting differently to a common heritage, as opposed to miraculously mirroring each other, the true worth of the exhibition emerges. In such paintings as his Sacrifice of Isaac (1635), Rembrandt organises hands and objects to form a circle, a habit which he inherited from Rubens and ultimately from Leonardo. Caravaggio, however, rejected this system--presumably because he felt it too static--preferring stacked-up diagonals and smaller circular patterns, as can be seen in his own version.

More important is Rembrandt's ability to evoke contemplation in his figures. When his paintings are placed beside Caravaggio's, it is dear that this is achieved by reticent gesture, and the directing of his figures' eyes to within the picture space, as opposed to the convention whereby eyes look out, as if distracted. Rembrandt's Bathsheba (1654), for instance, looks forward without obvious gesture, not reading her letter. Caravaggio's Jerome (1606), meanwhile, is engrossed in the act of writing. The catalogue states: 'Like Rembrandt's Bathsheba, Caravaggio's St Jerome is shown at a moment of complete privacy, absorbed in his thoughts.' This may be true in a banal sense, yet the figures are not remotely similar.