Father Cabanillas
1689 - 1693.Not on display
This likeness of the Franciscan clergyman is a significant example of elongated bust portraits that are quiet customary in the Western figurative tradition. Such works allow a closer approach to the model’s essential features, reducing but not eliminating accessory elements such as his clothing and a summary depiction of the surrounding space. Rather than overly limiting information on the protagonist’s social condition, this economy of means favors the viewer’s concentration on his face. His features and expression invite us to recognize his physiognomy, but also a part of his personality. Claudio Coello (1642-1693) thus captures Cabanillas’s attentive yet serene expression. His only attribute is the rough habit that marks him as a member of the Franciscan Order. Its coarse, dark-brown fabric isolates his face, which is largely surrounded by the hood. It also hides his hands, further accentuating his friar-like appearance. There are no distracting elements here; no sense of movement, and not even a landscape in the background. Thus, this portrait is practically an intimate invitation to draw closer to the apparently humble friar, whose frank gaze mirrors his straightforward habit to form a special mixture of goodness and vigor. The work is singular, not only for its effectiveness, but also because of the context in which it was created. It comes from the Spanish Royal Collections, although no link between this friar and the royal family has yet been discovered. The painting belonged to Philip V’s second wife, Elizabeth of Farnesio, and was inventoried among her paintings at the La Granja de San Ildefonso Palace in 1746, where it is already attributed to Coello. It had arrived there as part of the legacy of Charles II’s widow, Maria Anna of Neuburg, who was also Elizabeth’s aunt. Following the death of Spain’s last Habsburg monarch, Maria Anna was exiled—first to Toledo, and later to Bayonne. Among the payments carried out by her small French court is a recently discovered assignment of alms from 1718 to Father Cavanillas lay brother of Saint Giles, who is undoubtedly the figure portrayed by Coello. The Convent of San Gil in Madrid stood close to the Alcázar Palace, and in fact, part of the latter´s original foundations had to be demolished when it was expanded in the 16th century. It therefore enjoyed special protection from the neighboring monarchs and it is hardly strange that Queen Maria Anna may have maintained contact with one of its friars, whom she undoubtedly met during her stay in Madrid between 1689 and 1701. Cabanillas was thus a figure of some spiritual importance to the queen, and she took the likeness of him painted by Charles II’s chamber painter with her when she went into exile. Coello had worked in the chapel of San Pedro de Alcántara at the monastery of San Gil, and was thus closely associated with this community. His painting is thus not so much a courtly portrait as a work from the queen’s private circle with religious connotations. That explains its closeness and intimacy, free of any official rhetoric. If, as it seems, she herself commissioned this work, it would have been painted later than traditionally thought, sometime between Maria Anna´s arrival in Madrid and the artist’s death.
