The Temptation of Saint Anthony (second version)
Artist: Jacques Callot (French, 1592-1635)
Publisher: Israël Henriet (French, ca. 1590-1661)
Printer: Jacques Callot (French, 1592-1635)
Date: Printed 1634, published 1635
Dimensions:
Overall ((varies slightly)): 13 15/16 x 18 1/16 in. (354 x 458mm)
Medium: Etching on laid paper with an indeterminate watermark
Classification: Prints
Credit Line: William J. Hitchcock Fund in Memory of Grace J. Hitchcock
Object number: 2000.61
Label Text:Callot entertains us with hundreds of tiny, spirited devils sent to temp and torment Saint Anthony. Many are seen cavorting with musical instruments humorously adapted from weapons of war. Saint Anthony is hard to find, cowering in his cave at the lower right. A winged monster—Lucifer himself?—dominates the proscenium arch framing the print, both a threatening and a compelling presence.
The translated inscription:
To the most illustrious man, Lord and Master Louis Phélypeaux, Seignior of Lavrilière, Count of the Consistory, man of the sacred commands, Jacques Callot vows, dedicates and consecrates.
Shapeless specters, monsters stabled in obscure hiding places, broke out of their lower world and in close marching order profane the world and light with deadly poisons. The shapes of so many crimes transformed the hermitage into Erebus. In the meantime what are you doing under the vault of the huge rock, holy old man: you feel the force of so great enemies and despise them? Nothing mortal inspires you, nor do alluring Joys move your heart; neither Love breaks it nor death frightens. The mind fixed on heaven and restoring its strength from the Source, endures on earth the battles, which he derides, in the upper air.
The translated inscription:
To the most illustrious man, Lord and Master Louis Phélypeaux, Seignior of Lavrilière, Count of the Consistory, man of the sacred commands, Jacques Callot vows, dedicates and consecrates.
Shapeless specters, monsters stabled in obscure hiding places, broke out of their lower world and in close marching order profane the world and light with deadly poisons. The shapes of so many crimes transformed the hermitage into Erebus. In the meantime what are you doing under the vault of the huge rock, holy old man: you feel the force of so great enemies and despise them? Nothing mortal inspires you, nor do alluring Joys move your heart; neither Love breaks it nor death frightens. The mind fixed on heaven and restoring its strength from the Source, endures on earth the battles, which he derides, in the upper air.
DescriptionEtching on laid paper with an indeterminate watermark. This is the third state of five, before the scratch extending from the right wing of the monster in the sky to its right wrist. It is trimmed to the image along the vertical sides; trimmed slightly at the top and bottom of the sheet.
The inscription (added by Israel Henriet) translations: To the most illustrious man, Lord and Master Louis Phélypeaux, Seignior of Lavrillière, Count of the Consistory, man of the sacred commands, Jacques Callot vows, dedicates and consecrates. Shapeless spectres, monsters stabled in obscure hiding places, broke out of their lower world and in close marching order profane the world and light with deadly poisons. The shapes of so many crimes transformed the hermitage into Erebus. In the meantime what are you doing under the vault of the huge rock, holy old man; you feel the force of so great enemies and despise them? Nothing mortal inspires you, nor do alluring Joys move your heart; neither Love breaks it nor death frightens. The mind fixed on heaven and restoring its strength from the Source, endures on earth the battles, which he derides, in the upper air.
The inscription (added by Israel Henriet) translations: To the most illustrious man, Lord and Master Louis Phélypeaux, Seignior of Lavrillière, Count of the Consistory, man of the sacred commands, Jacques Callot vows, dedicates and consecrates. Shapeless spectres, monsters stabled in obscure hiding places, broke out of their lower world and in close marching order profane the world and light with deadly poisons. The shapes of so many crimes transformed the hermitage into Erebus. In the meantime what are you doing under the vault of the huge rock, holy old man; you feel the force of so great enemies and despise them? Nothing mortal inspires you, nor do alluring Joys move your heart; neither Love breaks it nor death frightens. The mind fixed on heaven and restoring its strength from the Source, endures on earth the battles, which he derides, in the upper air.
Not on view
In Collection(s)