Marcel-Beronneau was a student of Gustave Moreau; like his master, Beronneau painted ornate scenes and hypnotic figures from mythology and exoticised history. He exhibited from 1895 forward both at the Salon and the later Salon des Indépendents, garnering medals in 1900, 1913 and 1926.

The Salomé depicted here, in contrast to Moreau’s paintings of the subject, confidently confronts the viewer. She appears steely and even satisfied – not remorseful and upset (as she is most often depicted by Moreau). Unquestionably empowered, Beronneau’s Judean princess has blood running down her hand as if she had just been holding the head of John the Baptist.

The character of Salomé is more a construction of the Western canon than a religious figure. The New Testament discusses the ‘Daughter of Herodias’, without ever naming her. The Gospel of Mark recounts [6:21-29] that Herodias bore a grudge against John the Baptist’s denouncement of Herod as unlawfully married:

‘On Herod's birthday, the daughter of Herodias danced before them: and pleased Herod. Whereupon he promised with an oath, to give her whatsoever she would ask of him. But she being instructed before by her mother, said: Give me here in a dish the head of John the Baptist.. And his head was brought in a dish: and it was given to the damsel, and she brought it to her mother.’

Christianity used the character, later called Salomé, to represent the dangers of female seductiveness and irrationality, and labelled the dance cited in the New Testament ‘erotic.’ Not until Oscar Wilde’s 1891 play, however, did Salomé perform the renowned ‘dance of the seven veils’. Symbolist painters drew their Salome as much from Wilde as from biblical texts; Beronneau treated the subject, in diverse compositions, on several occasions.