Raphael’s Mary Magdalene: New Evidence Reopens the Debate
Archival research, technical analysis, and stylistic comparisons are raising new doubts about the attribution of the version housed in the Palatine Gallery, known as the Perugino version
On October 21, 2023, AFP brought to public attention the reappearance in England of a Mary Magdalene now attributed to Raphael. Part of a major British collection, the work was initially sold by Christie’s before the internet era, with an erroneous dating due to a veneer applied to the back in the 19th century, which concealed the original poplar panel, thinned down to just 3 millimeters.
A British scientific journal is now reviving the comparison with the twin version preserved at the Palatine Gallery in Florence, traditionally attributed to Perugino.
https://openscience.fr/IMG/pdf/iste_artsci24v8n2_2.pdf
Some researchers are comparing archival sources, diagnostic analyses, and comparative observations, thereby contributing new insights to the study of the two versions.
Among the most significant contributions is that of Dr. Fortunati, a Latin scholar and specialist in ancient documents, who identified a reference in the archives of the Duke of Urbino to a portrait of Mary Magdalene painted by Raphael, which had disappeared by the time of the inventories compiled prior to the works’ shipment to Florence. Conversely, a copy of this work appears precisely in the inventory of works intended for transfer, despite being absent from earlier inventories.
“There is no portrait depicting Mary Magdalene painted by Perugino in the archives of the Della Rovere and Medici families,” emphasizes Dr. Fortunati.
This fact helps shed light on the historical uncertainties surrounding the version now preserved in the Palatine Gallery, whose attribution has long fluctuated between Perugino, Raphael, Leonardo, Francia, and Franciabigio, precisely due to the lack of a solid documentary foundation.
Furthermore, certain elements within the Florentine painting itself also raise questions. This is particularly the case with the inscription on the bust of the Palatina version: “S. Maria Madalena,” written in the vernacular, whereas one would more naturally expect, in such a figurative and cultural context, a formulation in Latin.
“The inscription in the vernacular was added later, at the end of the 17th century, replacing a previous inscription, at a time when the work was being reattributed to Raphael,” adds Dr. Fortunati.
In fact, the archives of Palazzo Pitti indicate that, prior to the appearance of this inscription, the bust bore the name of a donor—an element difficult to reconcile with the status of an original by a great master. In contrast, the rediscovered version features geometric motifs embellished in gold.
As early as the 19th century, several scholars had expressed reservations about the work in the Palatina, noting a certain weakness in execution and an iconography with more sensual and earthly tones, far removed from Perugino’s codified piety. If the painting has remained attributed to the artist despite these reservations, this is also due to the fact that the face depicted has sometimes been likened to Chiara Fancelli, the master’s wife, a figure from whom Raphael himself might have drawn inspiration.
Today, it is primarily scientific analysis that allows us to directly observe the creative process
In the version that reappeared in England, infrared examinations revealed the presence of a preparatory drawing and several pentimenti: a lock of hair initially sketched near the right shoulder and then abandoned, slight corrections in the shape of the eyes and the brow ridge, as well as other strands of hair subsequently absorbed into the shadows of the final layer.
These are indications of an active creative process, generally associated with an original work rather than a copy.
Furthermore, the total thickness of the paint layers does not exceed one millimeter.
“A work of great mastery and incredible technical finesse,” stated Nathalie Nolde, curator-restorer at Chantilly, at the conclusion of her analysis of the painting.
In contrast, the version housed in the Palatine Gallery shows neither pentimenti nor preparatory drawings, and examinations reveal a less subtle paint layer.
In art history, a copy is not always distinguished by lesser beauty, but often by lesser skill in execution: where the original elaborates, corrects, and constructs, the copy tends to simplify.
A particularly revealing detail seems to point in this direction. In the rediscovered version, the veil visible at the level of the bust extends down to the wrist; in the Florentine version, by contrast, its absence—replaced by a dark, indistinct area—almost gives the impression that the hand is detached from the body, revealing a certain material inconsistency. The treatment of the hand also appears stiffer, with more visible brushstrokes, in contrast to the technical sensitivity of Renaissance painting.
To the untrained eye, these details may seem secondary. For researchers, however, they can prove decisive in distinguishing an original creative process from a derivative replica.
In the 17th century, many works by the great masters left Italy to enter English collections. It is therefore not uncommon for an authentic work to resurface in a private collection after having long remained in the shadow of a copy preserved in a museum and considered original.
Art is a living field that continues to surprise us even today.
