Reflections onAlonso Cano’s Saint John the Evangelist’s Vision of Jerusalem at London’s Wallace Collection
Susannah Rose Morgan
Alonso Cano’s compelling painting of Saint John the Evangelist’s Vision of Jerusalem offers a profound exploration of divine revelation. Dating ca. 1635-38, it was commissioned by the Hieronymite nuns of the convent of Santa Paula, Seville, forming part of a larger retable depicting the life of St. John the Evangelist. Through a theological analysis, I propose that the artwork invites contemplation on the themes of faith and salvation.
Alonso Cano was a Spanish painter, born in Granada and trained in Seville, where he learned painting from Francisco Pacheco and Juan de Castillo, as well as sculpture from Juan Martínez Montañés. He also learned architecture from his father, Miguel Cano. His familiarity with painting, sculpture, and architecture are clearly evident within this image. There is an elegance and beauty to the brushwork, with a meticulous attention to detail and harmonious composition. The figures have a tactile weightiness, particularly in the folds of the cloth, which can be owed to Cano’s familiarity with sculpting and polychromy. Seville had a wealth of polychromed religious sculptures which he may have had within his studio, or certainly encountered within the urban landscape he was living within.
This painting was part of a series of paintings intended for a carved retable depicting the story of St John the Evangelist. Although the altarpiece was never completed, the intended function of the artwork can be evidenced by the arched shape at the top of the composition. While there is a lengthy theological debate to be had about whether John of Patmos, the writer of the Book of Revelations, is the same as the Gospel writer, John the Evangelist, in this depiction we are presented with John the Evangelist.
The passage within the Book of Revelations that this piece references is from chapter 21, near the end of the book after the apocalyptic visions and the Last Judgement of the dead. The text describes John seeing “’a new heaven and a new earth’”, as predicted by the Old Testament prophet Isaiah; “for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. […] I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God”. We are then told a few verses later that one of the seven angels he encountered earlier in the vision came to him again and “he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem.” John’s expression in Cano’s painting reflects ecstatic wonder, guided gently by the angel on this spiritual journey. The emphatically grounded stance of John and the angel juxtaposed with the heavenly Jerusalem, bathed in divine light, signifies a departure from earthly time and space into a visionary realm. It is this guidance and descendance from Heaven that we see here, with the shining city just out of reach, yet still somewhat tangible.
Framed by the arch at the top of the image, the heavenly Jerusalem shines down on John in his vision. While the twelve gates and four walls mirror aspects of the description of the heavenly Jerusalem in the Book of Revelations, there is also a reference to the earthly city with the large domed building, identified as the Dome of the Rock. Prints were widely used in Spain, and Seville in particular, during the period Cano was working, so it is likely that he took inspiration for the architecture of Jerusalem from a print of the city he encountered. The ethereal yellow light conveys that this is in a vision and not part of the reality we know, yet the yellow glow reflects off the body and clothing of the angel, providing a link between the Divine and the terrestrial.
Framed by the arch at the top of the image, the heavenly Jerusalem shines down on John in his vision. While the twelve gates and four walls mirror aspects of the description of the heavenly Jerusalem in the Book of Revelations, there is also a reference to the earthly city with the large domed building, identified as the Dome of the Rock. Prints were widely used in Spain, and Seville in particular, during the period Cano was working, so it is likely that he took inspiration for the architecture of Jerusalem from a print of the city he encountered. The ethereal yellow light conveys that this is in a vision and not part of the reality we know, yet the yellow glow reflects off the body and clothing of the angel, providing a link between the Divine and the terrestrial.
The biblical text was written in a time when Early Christians were being severely persecuted by the Roman Empire, and we are told right at the start of the book that this is being written by a man named John in exile on the island of Patmos, near Greece. While countless interpretations of the text have been written, this literary context is vital for our understanding. There was the belief that the apocalypse was imminent, and that God would provide salvation from the Roman Empire. I would argue that hope of salvation can be seen on John’s face here, looking up in expectation and wonder at the angel. The Book of Revelation has therefore been used time and time again during periods of socio-political and religious upheaval as the apocalypse came to the forefront of people’s imaginations. This was the case around the time of the Protestant Reformation and later Counter-Reformation as religious anxieties grew in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Europe; much of the metaphorical imagery within the biblical text were replaced with contemporary political leaders and enemies.
The simplicity of the composition is what makes this piece so effective. The tip of the angel’s wing connects the heavenly realm at the top right to the earthly realm that their feet are planted on at the bottom left, by creating a dynamic diagonal movement across the canvas. With this simple shape, Cano creates an energetic and compelling theological metaphor rendered with remarkable clarity. The clear use of colour in this painting also hints at a deeper theological understanding. While John’s robe is now a pink colour, it would have originally been a vibrant red which has since deteriorated with time. Red clothing is often used as an iconographic tool in depictions of saints to indicate martyrdom, yet John the Evangelist was famously one of the only disciples to die of old age. Therefore, the use of red initially seems to be somewhat discordant, yet on reflection perhaps references the literary style that Revelations is written with in. Some scholars suggest that Revelations was written during the ‘age of anxiety’ when Early Christians suffered persecution from the Roman Empire, as aforementioned, and the concept of martyrdom is said to come out of this. Instead of dying for your faith being something to fear, it became something to strive towards as both witness and proof of the Truth of Christianity. Therefore, whilst John the Evangelist, as seen in this image, was not a martyr, he was very much writing within this anxiety, and undertook a spiritual martyrdom by receiving these apocalyptic visions and bearing witness to the Truth.
The weighty red of John’s cloak is then met with the green of the angel’s, a colour often associated symbolically with faithfulness. Therefore, a theological interpretation of this painting shows faithfulness connecting the heavenly, visionary realm, to the earthly realm of martyrdom and persecution, and as such could be a mnemonic tool for the viewer to follow in the footsteps of John.
Overall, Alonso Cano’s painting Saint John the Evangelist’s Vision of Jerusalem is a simple yet energetically effective piece of art that can be both time-specific, and timeless. The references to polychromed sculpture are undeniably Golden-Age Sevillian, yet the message of heaven descending to earth with angelic guides is one that continues to capture our imagination. Its timeless themes and masterful execution continue to inspire contemplation and wonder, serving as a poignant representation of hope and salvation amidst adversity.
Alonso Cano, Saint John the Evangelist’s Vision of Jerusalem, c. 1635-38, oil on canvas, 109 x 69.5 cm, Wallace Collection, London.
Susannah Morgan is currently completing a BA in Art History at the Courtauld Institute of Art and will start a Master of the Conservation of Easel Paintings degree at the Hamilton Kerr Institute, Cambridge, in Autumn 2024.