The formal and iconographic expression  of this Saint Sebastian is exemplary: in the silence of a peaceful valley illuminated by late-afternoon sunlight, the Roman soldier Sebastian is transformed, via a martyrdom described by a single arrow, into a devout, humble, naked saint before the infinite love of the almighty God. Stylistic elements
of the work, of exceptionally high quality in terms of drawing and nuance painting, suggest a date between 1498 and 1502: there are evident allusions to models by Giovanni Santi (Raphael’s father), Luca Signorelli, Pinturicchio and Perugino, for example in the background with those stylized trees, and in the warmth of the light. The face and the precise yet elegant pose of the saint, sketched with very delicate shading, also help us to compare this painting with Perugino’s more famous St Sebastian against a column, conserved at the Musée du Louvre, which demonstrates a grace that recalls models from antique sculpture portrayed in lustrous, luminous painting. We can hypothesize that the young Raphael - perhaps supported
and guided by a painter dear to his father, a certain Evangelista di Pian di Meleto (ca. 1458 Piandimeleto - Urbino 1549) who was then working in the elder Santi’s workshop - may have participated in this refined, “idealized,” painting, transcending Perugino’s style and keeping pace with more modern painters like Pinturicchio, but elevating his work to a purer form, characterized by clearly-drawn lines, anatomy that stands out in relief thanks to his modulation of the light, a marked complicity with and extensive study of drawing (in the archive of the family that owns that painting, a letter from Roberto Longhi attributes the work to Raphael). In addition to the iconographic restraint of the saint pierced by a single arrow from which a trickle of blood springs encapsulates in this scene all the best of the central-Italian Renaissance that could have been taken as a model at that moment. While on one hand the anatomical study and the turgor of the flesh are highlighted with delicate reddish brushstrokes in the cheeks, elbows, knees and feet, on the other hand, the structure of Saint Sebastian himself is the pictorial translation of an antique statue, a Greco-Roman Apollo rising above the simplicity of the landscape: there are numerous azure fields that contribute to spotlighting the marble-like figure; the haze of the landscape in the background does not dull the telescopic view of the little town along the shore of the lack in the distance; we can almost hear the tolling from that bell tower if we have ever had the pleasure of strolling through the sunny countryside of central Italy.