The Abduction of the Sabine Women
| Support Type: | Canvas |
| Paint Type: | Oil Paint |
| Current Location: | The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. |
| Location History: | Poussin painted this version in Rome around 1633–1634, during the period when he was living and working there. The painting was associated with Marshal Charles I de Créquy, the French ambassador to Rome, who appears to have acquired it around 1633–1634. Créquy died in 1638, after which the painting entered the collection of Cardinal Armand-Jean du Plessis, Cardinal Richelieu, in Paris. Following Richelieu’s death in 1642, the painting remained in his estate until 1650, when it was sold and passed to the Duchesse d’Aiguillon. It subsequently passed through several European collections, including those of Jean Neret de La Ravoye, Benigne de Ragois de Bretonvilliers, Jaques Meijers, and the Hoare family at Stourhead. In 1883, it was sold from the Hoare collection and eventually entered the collection of Sir Francis Cook and his descendants. In 1946, it was acquired by the Metropolitan Museum of Art through the Harris Brisbane Dick Fund, where it remains today. |
The plot of the abduction of the Sabine Women which is based on one of the legendary stories in the origins of Rome was related by the Roman historians, Livy and Plutarch. Rome, shortly after her foundation, was a place with a low number of women; Romulus invited the Sabines who lived nearby to a festival, and when the event was underway, Romulus gave a signal to his men and the men abducted the women. Poussin depicts the moment when the ordered scheme gives way to chaos. Towards the left, Romulus presides over the chaos, moving his cloak as the cue. Below him, Roman soldiers drag off and bind the women. The women reach out to their relatives, while young and old, and various other figures are caught up in the confusion. Horses, soldiers, weapons, shields and fragments of brightly coloured material fill almost every inch of the composition. The distant classical buildings suggest an idealized ancient Roman city. But in the midst of the violence of the story, Poussin still keeps the picture from becoming visually confusing. Each body, each gesture and each movement in the picture feels thought out. Arms are pointed in all directions, bodies are contorted, horses give a breather by making their way through the crowd, and the loose clothes seem to have a life of their own. It is almost like a dance. What is so striking about this painting is the contradiction between its controlledness and the violence. The scene is hideous, and yet very ordered. Romulus is raised up above the mass, and the people below pay for his command. Poussin turns an old story of abduction into a large image of the birth of Rome, while still giving us the suffering of the humans who made it possible.