The Darkness Has Not Overcome It
Commentary by Barbara von Barghahn
First documented in 1563 as a ‘Master Domenigo’ of the Guild of St Luke in Candia (Heraklion), El Greco (1541–1614) was an experienced painter of Byzantine icons before he departed Crete in 1567. Arriving in the mercantile Republic of Venice, he had the opportunity to study first-hand the art of Renaissance colourists like Titian and Tintoretto, who flourished as leading masters of grandiose retables. In 1576 he sailed for Spain, where presumably he sought patronage by the Habsburg monarch Philip II (r. 1555–98). By 1577 he settled in Toledo, the administrative seat of the Church, where he moved in the orbit of humanists, intellectual aristocrats, and prominent ecclesiastical reformers.
El Greco’s ethereal, elongated, and almost boneless figures, are otherworldly. Garbed in robes of undiluted colour, they seem to shimmer with the animation of divine light. There is nothing to compare with them in the history of art.
The Agony in the Garden is a canvas that takes elements from all four Gospel accounts. We see the angel comforting Christ from Luke (22:43), the three sleeping apostles from Mark’s and Matthew’s accounts, and in the far right, Judas leading a band with flaming torches, a detail only found in John 18:3.
Despite the clear attention to Gospel accounts, the work reveals far less concern for capturing aspects of a naturalistic physical world. With arms outstretched, Jesus is portrayed in prayer before a huge rock, his anguish (agonia in Greek) communicated as he contemplates his imminent death. Like a faceted gemstone touched by blinding light, his crimson robes transition in hue from white to highly saturated red. Christ’s angelic companion in tin-lead yellow holds a chalice and kneels above the inert apostles wrapped within a mist-enshrouded cavern.
El Greco’s Gethsemane is a barren environment. Yet, through the darkness, Judas and the guards light the way that the narrative will take as Jesus’s Passion continues.