The fact that this painting and its pendant (P1058)—both of unknown origin—entered the Museo de la Trinidad in the 19th century suggests they may have belonged to a religious institution in or near Madrid. As Cruzada villaamil’s first catalog indicates, they were originally considered anonymous works from the Valencian school, but a signature discovered on the present canvas when they entered the Prado allowed them to be correctly attributed to Bartolomé Pérez in the inventory. For unknown reasons, was lent to the University of Barcelona in 1883, thus separating it from the work P1058. Lacking a signature, that piece was first attributed to Juan de Arellano on the basis of its style, presentation, dimensions and overall appearance. And this is understandable, as Bartolomé Pérez was Arellano’s disciple, and later, his son-in-law.
Indeed, there are innumerable links between these two works and those of Pérez’s father-in-law and teacher, including both their compositional conception of grouping and the approach to details, from the petals to the openwork basket. Moreover, the fact that both artists depict similar types of flowers—roses, tulips, dahlias, carnations, daffodils, etc.—makes their work even more similar. Pérez’s lighting, however, is much more intense, and this adds a sense of drama and aesthetic tension reinforced by the color scheme. The backgrounds that look so dark to us now must originally have been lighter, as the dark priming now shows through, augmenting the sense of shadow. All the same, the result is brilliantly theatrical and rich in details that strengthen the eminently baroque decorative value of both paintings.
From the standpoint of historical tradition, this formula is deeply rooted in Western art. In fact, such richly theatrical and stimulating images are already visible in Roman mosaics from the second century B.C., as witnessed by works in the Vatican Museums. Some French genre painters also took a similar approach during the Baroque, including Jacques Linard (1600-1645), several of whose works are exemplary in that sense (Paris, Musée du Louvre and private collections). Thanks to their brilliant brushwork, Barolomé Pérez’s paintings are both joyful and mysteriously fascinating to the viewer who contemplates them consciously. They also produce a certain degree of dreaminess, due to their powerfully evocative nature. The present canvases’ dependence on Juan de Arellano’s models suggests they may well be from a relatively early point in Pérez’s career (Text from Luna, J. J. : El bodegón español en el Prado. De Van der Hamen a Goya, Museo Nacional del Prado, 2008, p. 106).
