Today we return to Palazzo Barberini to talk, once again, about a Renaissance artwork capable, in every respect, of transporting us back in time, discovering mythological episodes or similar ones, showing us examples of virtue in various forms. We have already talked in the past about similar paintings (here is an example). Today, however, your tour guide in Rome returns to describe an artwork by Garofalo. Through the brilliant and warm colors of the master, I will narrate the story of the matron Claudia Quinta, the one who saved the city in 204 B.C. 

It was a hard period because the Roman population was hit by a severe famine, so strong that no sacrifice, no sacred ritual was enough to appease what, for the Romans, was the anger unleashed by the Gods on Rome. For this reason, the Sibylline Books were consulted, a collection of prophecies that were supposed to provide a solution to the problem. And here is the solution: go to the distant Pessinus, in Asia Minor, to take the statue of the Great Mother, a deity known, in various ways and forms, to many ancient cultures and civilizations. The journey was arduous, but in the end, a group of Roman ambassadors and wise men managed to take possession of the statue. The journey, however, almost turned out to be futile when, nearing Tiber Island, the boat carrying the crew and the sacred relic ran aground. Everything seemed lost, but then comes Claudia Quinta on the scene. A respectable woman of high lineage, she had the misfortune of being labeled as a great gossip and thus an unwelcome woman in Roman society. However, with the help of the Great Mother and solely with the strength of her arms, taking a rope, the matron single-handedly pushed the boat to the shore. In this way, she saved the entire Roman community, with the arrival of the Great Mother putting an end to the epidemic, also managing to redeem herself. A beautiful story immortalized by Garofalo's colors. In the background, the Colosseum can be seen (an intentional anachronism since the amphitheater was built more than two centuries later), useful to locate the story in space. In the foreground, Claudia Quinta, with her slender body and seemingly without effort, pulls the boat towards her. It almost seems like the boat is as light as a feather! Interestingly, some small dogs also appear in the foreground, probably domestic pets of any noble family, often included in Renaissance works of art. 

The poses of the characters are well balanced, as is typical of the era, but despite this, all our attention is drawn to the center of the scene, and the intrinsic meaning of the episode. Once again, we have a sixteenth-century artwork that cleverly dialogues with ancient culture, also conveying a message of divine salvation, in this case in a somewhat pagan context, so to speak. A nice mix of history, myth, culture, and art at Palazzo Barberini in Rome, right?