Guercino, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas

The New Testament recounts how, after his crucifixion, Christ rose from the dead and appeared to his apostles. One of them, Thomas, was absent and refused to believe Christ’s resurrection without witnessing it himself. This painting shows their encounter, when Christ instructed Thomas to touch the wounds he had suffered on the Cross.

The action takes place in semi-darkness before a wall, its plaster crumbling at the top to reveal the brickwork beneath. Fingers outstretched, Thomas tentatively reaches towards Christ, clutching his other hand to his chest; we can sense his nervousness. Two men lean in behind him, craning their necks to see, while Saint Peter looks on over Christ’s shoulder. Guercino has built a powerful sense of anticipation and tension through the picture’s tight crop and dramatic lighting. The figures, transfixed by Christ, watch and wait to see what will happen.

Cropped at three-quarter length, the figures crowd the space, bringing us closer to the action and focusing our attention on the interaction between the protagonists. Guercino has chosen to illustrate the most dramatic moment in the story, and the one which evokes the most powerful emotional response: Thomas coming into physical contact with Christ. Time is suspended at the crucial moment just before Thomas’s realisation; it is as if we – and the onlookers – are holding our breath.

Christ, his right arm drawn back to reveal his wound, looks benevolently at Thomas. In his left hand he holds a wooden standard with a white flag, a symbol of his resurrection. The strong vertical of the pole divides the image in half. On one side we are presented with the steadfast, knowing Christ; on the other, in a hunched pose and with his face cast in shadow, we see doubting Thomas. The illuminated Christ acts as a beacon within the dark composition and the use of light is symbolic: Thomas, who hasn’t yet ‘seen the light’, is about to experience a revelation.

This picture’s sense of drama, lighting and naturalism owe much to Caravaggio, whose influence was widely felt in the early seventeenth century. Painted in 1621, this work was made by Guercino just prior to his move to Rome in May of that year. It is one of a pair of pictures painted by Guercino for Bartolomeo Fabri, its pendant being The Betrayal of Christ in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. Originating from Cento, the town near Bologna where Guercino was born, Fabri was an important early patron for the artist. He commissioned other works from him, including The Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, also in the National Gallery’s collection, which dates from just two years later.