Initially attributed to Alessandro Turchi, Jan Miel, and Elisabetta Sirani, the painting has been definitively assigned to the French painter Jacques Stella following the discovery of a payment receipt dated 28 July 1631, which also allows for a precise dating of the work.
The scene represented, a prelude to the beheading of Holofernes, has no dramatic or gory hints, but accentuates the sophisticated elegance of the biblical heroine, portrayed while invoking divine help, a moment before killing the Assyrian general. Next to her, three putti play with the sword and, hidden further in the shadows is a the figure of the faithful servant.
Nineteenth-century frame with palmettes on the four corners, 48 x 54 x 9 cm
Rome, Borghese collection, documented in 1631 (payment record); Borghese collection, 1650 (Manilli 1650, p. 113); Inventory 1693, room XI, no. 120; Inventory 1790, room X, no. 31; Inventario Fidecommissario Borghese 1833, p. 32. Purchased by the Italian State, 1902.
Initially attributed to Alessandro Turchi, Jan Miel, and Elisabetta Sirani (see Della Pergola 1955; Loche 1974), this work has been definitively assigned to the oeuvre of the French painter Jacques Stella following the discovery of a receipt dated 28 July 1631 (González-Palacios 2010). The document records a payment of thirty-five scudi from Prince Marcantonio Borghese to Stella for two paintings: one depicting Judith, the other the Nativity of Christ. In addition to confirming the attribution to Stella, already proposed by Pierre Rosenberg in 1972 (Herrmann Fiore 2005), the receipt also securely dates the work to 1631, the same year in which the artist painted two other works on stone: Joseph and Potiphar’s Wife and Susanna and the Elders. These two, in terms of subject, dimensions, and technique, appear to form a series with the present work, all portraying biblical female figures (Iommelli 2022). In particular, the Susanna and the Elders shares several compositional features with the Judith under discussion, including a table draped with a cloth in the corner, an elaborate curtain framing the scene, and the same model, depicted first as a virtuous woman and then as a lascivious temptress.
The subject is drawn from the Book of Judith in the Old Testament, which recounts the story of a Hebrew heroine who saves her people from Assyrian siege by seducing and beheading the general Holofernes. However, the scene depicted here diverges distinctively from the dramatic tone of the biblical narrative and from contemporary Caravaggesque interpretations. Judith, depicted in all her beauty, is shown kneeling in prayer beside the sleeping enemy. The atmosphere is serene and contemplative, devoid of any foreshadowing of the imminent violence. Abandoning the representation of Judith as a femme fatale, Stella opts instead for an interpretation aligned with the classical Bolognese ideal, revealing an admiration for Guido Reni and the Bolognese school. His heroine is a martyr, ready for sacrifice, illuminated by a divine light that heralds her victory. The only element of tension is provided by three putti playing with a sword near the bed, an allusion to Holofernes’ tragic fate.
This unusual depiction, while closely quoting the verses of the biblical text (“When it grew late… Judith was left alone in the tent with Holofernes, who lay prostrate on his bed, dead drunk… Judith stood beside his bed and prayed in her heart”; Jdt 13:1–6; Iommelli 2022), has been interpreted in various ways. Some scholars connect it to the spiritual drama by Federico della Valle (Herrmann Fiore 2005, p. 310), while others attribute inspiration to the Lateran frescoes of Cesare Nebbia and Giovanni Guerra (Mann 2020).
The use of black marble as a support is particularly striking: not merely a dark background, but a true nocturnal stage upon which the drama unfolds. This bold choice enhances the narrative tension and the play of light and shadow, heightening the contrast between good and evil, light and darkness. The colour of the marble evokes the night, creating a mysterious and evocative atmosphere from which Judith emerges undaunted, illuminated by a light that endows her with strength and determination. Her maid, barely visible in the shadows, takes on a sinister air, complicit in the impending murder.
The work is further enriched by fine golden ornamentation that adorns the fabrics and weapons. An element also noted by André Félibien: “He produced several paintings on ‘paragone’ stone and painted golden draperies upon them using a secret method he had invented” (see Provinciali 2024, p. 163). This detail appears to be a hidden divertissement by the artist to enhance and authenticate the work’s value in the eyes of his patron.
As Kristina Herrmann Fiore (2005) has suggested, the artist was likely inspired by Matteo Zaccolini’s studies on light and shadow: the dark blot cast beneath the candlestick and the glimmers on Holofernes’ shield and helmet attest to this influence.
Two variants of this work by Stella, one on marble (private collection; Laveissière 2006, p. 96, no. 42) and one on slate (Kerspern 2018), testify to the success of this subject. Despite addressing an iconic theme, Stella managed each time to offer a fresh interpretation, skillfully exploiting the medium to create works of profound pathos and evocative power.