Leseprobe

11 In the course of preparing the exhibition Caravaggio: The Human and the Divine at the begin- ning of last year, we looked for sculptures in our holdings that would fit in with the context of the show and simultaneously demonstrate the dramatic lighting effects of Caravaggesque paintings using three-dimensional objects. Among the Skulpturensammlung’s rich holdings, we came across two absolutely exceptional works. The first was a spectacular Baroque sculp- ture of a preaching Saint John the Baptist by Francesco Mochi, which Augustus the Strong had purchased in a group acquisition that included numerous famous antiquities from the Roman collection of Cardinal Flavio Chigi. The Baptist’s gesture was reminiscent of the angle in Caravaggio’s painting of Saint Matthew the Evangelist . The second sculptural work we found was an amazingly realistic death’s head that had arrived in Dresden as part of the same group acquisition. The skull of Carrara marble is so convincingly worked that one really has to hold it in one’s hand to dispel any doubts that one isn’t gazing at a human relic after all. When the skull is lifted, the illusion becomes quite uncanny, as it turns out that the object is hollow, with the undersurface displaying the same perfect finish as the visible parts above. Who could possibly have been the creator of a work of such virtuosity? And what was the purpose of its making? At some time during the lively discussions that took place, and in view of the origin of the work in the Chigi collection, the name of Bernini was brought up, albeit jokingly at first. However, when the documents on the purchase of the famous collection from Rome were examined, they showed that this conjecture actually hit the nail on the head. After intensive research and analysis, all doubts could be erased and, by early this year, we knew for certain: the Death’s Head in the Dresden Skulpturensammlung is not only an important work by Gian Lorenzo Bernini, but it also has a fascinating history that can be revealed in these pages. It soon became clear that this exceptional sculpture would have to be the subject of an exhibition. Presenting a skull in the centre of the Semperbau at a time when the world is in the grips of a global pandemic seems an entirely apt thing to do, seeing that Bernini’s Death’s Head was created in an age when death was an omnipresent part of everyday life, could strike a savage blow at any time, and could not be pushed out of sight as easily as it normally is in today’s world. In 1656, only one year after Bernini had created his Death’s Head for Pope Alexander VII (Fabio Chigi by birth, 1599 – 1667), the plague broke out in Rome. It was an epidemic that claimed hundreds of thousands of lives throughout Europe and the current crisis makes it suddenly possible for us to grasp the scope of such a situation with renewed immediacy. In this context, it is astounding to note that the measures taken to combat the disease in the 17 th century seem remarkably familiar to us now. Checks were placed on the entrances to the city, quarantine imposed, sufferers were isolated in individual lazarettos, masks were worn, social contact reduced, and attempts made to use vinegar to disinfect every- day objects such as coins. While many aristocrats and others who could afford it left Rome, In the Face of Death Stephan Koja