Artemisia Returns and Goes Visiting.

Self Portrait as St. Catherine of Alexandria by Artemisia Gentileschi c. 1616

Though Artemisia Gentilleschi (1593-1652) was quite famous in her lifetime, the most famous female painter of the 17th century, she was forgotten for over 300 years. However, in 2018 the National Gallery in London acquired this painting of Artemisia in the guise of St. Catherine of Alexandria. This purchase was the first purchase of a work by a female artist in 27 years and only the 21st in the history of the gallery, which has a permanent collection of some 2,300 works. Not only have they cleaned and restored the painting, putting it into a new frame, but in the lead up to a major exhibition of her work in 2020, they have sent her touring! Yes, this great lady painter is making the rounds this year of various places in the U.K., from schools, to libraries, to doctors' offices, and women's prisons (by the way, the doctors report that the painting has a calming effect on patients). Artemisia "fever" seems to be everywhere as here in this wonderful gallery exhibition by Robilant and Voena called The Gentileschi Effect https://www.robilantvoena.com/exhibitions/191/ Well worth a look.

So what's all the fuss about, and who was she anyway? Born in Rome in 1593, she was the daughter of a painter, Orazio Gentileschi, a follower of Caravaggio, as was his daughter after him. A very talented youngster, she was talented enough for her father to hire her a private instructor, Agostino Tassi. Unfortunately, Tassi took advantage of the 17 year old, in fact raping her (more on that in my blog post "The Indecent Proposal: Susanna and the Elders"). Despite the horror of this and the trial (her father brought Tassi to court where Tassi was condemned as guilty but with the punishment never meted out), Artemisia went on with her life, marrying and moving to Florence where her patron was the Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo II. She was much favored in her day, and her image became well known as she often painted herself in her paintings. Often her work involved the retelling of rather gory tales of women being wronged and men being brought to justice (Susanna and the Elders, 1610, or Judith Slaying Holofernes, 1620 or St. Catherine of Alexandria, 1615-1617, who at least became a saint.) Given the early tragedy in her life (note those paintings were all done within ten years of the rape), one can understand her penchant for such themes. However, what fascinates me is how she moves through life in allegorical self-portraits. I want to look at the Self Portrait as St. Catherine of Alexandria, The Allegory of Fame, and The Allegory of Painting.

Above we see Artemisia as St. Catherine, a noble woman (princess supposedly) who was known for being superbly educated, and who, as a Christian, was busy converting people to the then new religion. This did not please the Roman emperor Maxentius, especially when his wife converted. Catherine managed to out debate all of the scholars the emperor sent to question her. She was still sentenced to death upon a spiked wheel (notice that in the portrait above), but it broke. However, she was martyred anyway, as they just chopped off her head. It is sometimes thought that this apocryphal tale was just a retelling of what happened to mathematician, Hypatia, with the religions switched and beheading instead of stoning. The physical suffering of the saint might be reminiscent of the torture Artemisia went through during her rape trial to make sure she was telling the truth. Thumbscrews were applied to her fingers, for instance. Notice in that painting how Artemisia is giving us the side-eye as she holds the palm of the martyr. She endured, and St. Catherine's broken wheel symbolizes Artemisia's own truthfulness. Artemisia cast herself as the martyred saint and told the world part of her own story.

Self Portrait as the Allegory of Fame, 1630-1636

Sometimes she painted herself as a concept, in an allegory. Allegories were ways of painting abstract concepts and quite a popular genre during the Renaissance and Baroque periods. In this self-portrait, Artemisia is Fama or Fame, and indeed by 1630 when she began this painting, she was famous. It was said as early as 1625 that "It was easier to envy her than to imitate her" (Morris). It is thought that this piece was painted in Naples, though it might have been painted in London, her next place of residence. Mercury was normally the symbol for Fame. However, since allegories were always represented by a female rather than a male, painters of this theme often gave the female some symbol of Mercury. Mercury was the fleet-footed messenger of the gods, and here we see Artemisia holding a horn or trumpet, an instrument to draw attention to the imminent delivery of a message. Perhaps it was the fact that she was about to go to London where she would have great success in the Court of King Charles I. Again, she is wrapped in rich dark red, though this time with quite a show of skin. Her eyes are to the side, as if saying, "Well, of course, I am famous. How could you ever doubt it?" The elegance of it is quite wonderful as she had a hard upbringing, since her father was not rich, her mother died when Artemisia was only 12, and then there was Agostino Tassi. This is a woman whose prestige and fame were hard won, and she wore them as her mantle.

Self Portrait as the Allegory of Painting by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1639.

By the time she was painting this allegory, it was 28 years past the time of the rape trial, and she was living in London with many clients and the King as a patron. Now, going from Duke to King in terms of patronage is quite a step up. Her successful career, perhaps, supported her bold move to paint herself as Painting. Now there is dispute about whether this is really a self-portrait. In Vermeer's Allegory of Painting, one sees the male artist, with his back turned to the viewer, painting a female figure dressed in robes and a wreath-like crown to suggest classical times. So Artemisia may have been pushing it a bit to paint herself as the essence of Painting, so she may have disguised herself somewhat. However, there is no doubt that she was showing herself to be a great painter, just by doing this piece even if it is not a self-portrait.

So Artemisia is back and once again reigning in glory. Loan requests from the National Gallery in London have gone out across the world for key paintings to be lent for the exposition of her work planned for February 22 through May 31, 2020. Her re-emergence has sparked a number of proposed shows of her work and other work from the Baroque period. From Rome, to Naples, to Paris to Seattle (October 17, 2019 - January 26, 2020), everyone wants a piece of Artemisia. Meanwhile her painting of herself as St. Catherine of Alexandria continues its tour. One poignant comment from Artemisia's visit to the women's prison shows how powerful her story is, "I see pain in her eyes."

[Side note: St. Catherine's day is celebrated in France in late November on the 25th. I was surprised my first November in Paris, years ago now, when on that day, I saw many young women wearing summer straw hats with flowers. When I asked about it, I was told on St. Catherine's Day, women 25 and under who are unmarried wear those summer flowery hats to let young men know that they are available for marriage. St. Catherine of Alexandria, who was a virgin saint, is one of the 14 Holy Helpers and the patron saint of unmarried women. In terms of business, milliners happily show off their creations, and compete for attention. The young women are supposed to wear the hats all day long, and are normally treated to a fine dinner by their friends. It was all quite a surprise for me, especially since St. Catherine died so gruesomely. In England the day is sort of a companion to Guy Fawkes Day which happens earlier in November. It is celebrated with spinning fireworks called St. Catherine's Wheel.]

Paintings are in public domain.

Quote from "Artemisia: Her Passion Was Painting" by Roderick Conway Morris, NYT November, 2011.

#artemisiagentileschi #baroquepainting #allegoryofpainting #allegoryoffame #stcatherineofalexandria #womenartists

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle

She also has an engaging art history blog that talks of painting and wine on ofartandwine.com

© Marjorie Vernelle 2019

The Indecent Proposal: Susanna and the Elders, as seen by Tintoretto, Gentileschi and Benton

Susanna and the Elders by Tintoretto, 1557 AD

The apocryphal story goes like this: Susanna, a young, beautiful, married woman, was bathing in the privacy of her own garden when she was observed by two elder men. They approached her, saying they would accuse her of adultery if she did not have sex with them. She refused, was brought to trial, and almost convicted (death penalty to be applied), when the Prophet Daniel spoke up, saying that the men should be seriously questioned. The two men were separated and gave conflicting testimonies, proving themselves to be liars. Susanna was acquitted. Of course, who knows what shame the court of public opinion heaped upon her for having even been accused. (My suggestion: Move to Egypt and change your name.) Whether anyone ever learned anything by the incident, we do not know to this day; however, it became a popular theme for paintings. It is particularly interesting to see how a trio of painters, two male and one female, treated the subject. I'll start with Tintoretto (see painting above).

Okay, full disclosure, this is my favorite Tintoretto, more for the lush painting than for his representation of the story. In fact, this painting is more involved with the academic debates of the time: the Renaissance Paragon, about which was better, sculpture or painting, and the classic battle between Florentine drawing and Venetian color (disegno/colore paragone). Tintoretto, also known as Il Furioso, even had a sign in his studio saying, "The drawing of Michelangelo and the color of Titian." Obviously, it was his goal to combine the two. In this painting he does well at both, creating the lush, luminous beauty of the naked Susanna, the gleam of her vanity items (Vanitas representation was also a major concept at the time), the darkened closed feeling of her garden, and the brighter exterior beyond its confines. Tintoretto captures that private moment in which Susanna, her hair very stylishly braided, enjoys her solitary self-reflection (depicted literally by her mirror gazing), surrounded by her jewels, fine silk scarf, velvet bodice (tossed aside), pearls, and a gleaming silver pot, probably containing a perfumed ointment. As she is so consumed with her vanities, what she doesn't see, of course, are the two old men peering at her. I think Tintoretto uses that as the cautionary tale here about being too consumed with the vanities of life when there are more imminently important things to notice. In terms of the old men, the one in the front is a peeping Tom for sure, while the old man at the back has his eyes downcast, perhaps seeing a mother duck and her babies. That can be seen as a clue to what ideas might be in his head. So we leave Susanna in imminent peril, though still at least on her own property, her house nearby.

Susanna and the Elders by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1610.

In Artemisia Gentileschi's version of the story of Susanna and the Elders (1610), we see a very different approach. There is no suggested commentary on the conceptual aspects of art being debated, no paragons, and no moral judgments about vanity. Gentileschi cuts to the chase. The bathing woman clearly does not want anything to do with these two old men. Her head is down and turned dramatically away from them. Both her hands are raised in protest, and the left one has splayed fingers indicating shock at what is being said to her. Sneakily, one guy is whispering to the other what to suggest to Susanna, but not saying it directly to her himself (plausible deniability of guilt?) That raised left hand with fingers spread out also is an indication of fear. Yes, fear, and if you have ever seen Hitchcock's Psycho, you know what I mean. Gentileschi's very direct approach to what is going on doesn't focus on the spying, but on the indecent proposal and potential indecent act, the things that form the center of the trial that was to come.

Self Portrait of Artemisia painting as the Allegory of Painting, 1638-1639.

At this point it is necessary to look at a bit of biographical information on Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1656). She was the daughter of a famous painter, Orazio Gentileschi, who encouraged his talented daughter, even hiring a colleague, Agostino Tassi, to tutor her. Unfortunately Tassi raped her, then continued to have sex with her under the guise that he would marry her and thereby protect her reputation. When it was discovered that he was already married, Orazio took him to court, where it was found that Tassi had had numerous affairs, planned to murder his wife, and steal some of Orazio's paintings. He was banished from Rome, though the sentence was not carried out. Artemisia, however, had suffered having thumbscrews applied to her fingers to prove she was telling the truth. Can you imagine painting after that?

Judith Slaying Holofernes by Artemisia Gentileschi, 1610

But she did, and with a direct ferocity when telling tales of women who took their revenge, like in her Judith Slaying Holofernes. So it is understandable that she would deal with the issue of the indecent proposal and not just the peeking.

Susanna and the Elders by Thomas Hart Benton, 1938

However, even dealing with the peeking can be done in a way to create a sense of menace. For that we can go to the 20th century and Thomas Hart Benton's version of Susanna and the Elders (1938). This is a Depression Era version, set like many of Benton's works in the middle of nowhere prairie, with the old men being probably two farm hands. Again we see them conspiring with one another, as they stand behind a tree. The focus, however, is on Susanna, here a nicely rendered, young woman with a 1930s hairdo and wedding ring, having undressed in a secluded spot in nature to bathe herself in the water. Unlike in the tale itself, she is not apparently in her own garden, hence not having her house nearby. Given that this is the 1930s, she might probably not even have a fixed address, and finding a secluded place to bathe might have been looked upon as a blessing. The key thing I see is that she has no where to run to should these men do more than just propose something indecent. How would she defend herself against the two of them? The shadowy, and beautifully rendered seclusion of this glen makes the two old men hiding behind the tree much more of a physical threat. Ironically, there is a church in the background, but in the distance. I can remember looking at this painting years ago when I would visit the museum in San Francisco, and I was always "creeped out" by the implication of what might happen.

In looking at these three painted versions of the tale, the storytelling in the paintings varies with the concerns of the times and the lives of the painters. Artemisia goes right for the important act in the story, the indecent proposal and Susanna's reaction to it. She pulls no punches about this being something that Susanna wants no part of. In Thomas Hart Benton's piece, Susanna is as yet unaware of the danger, and in Benton one feels that because of the setting, this could indeed turn out badly for her. A feeling of menace is present. And the Tintoretto? I almost wonder if this robust Venetian lady wouldn't have given these two old guys a piece of her mind, Italian style, before gathering her things, marching into her house, and slamming the door.

One final note: In the Biblical tale, the two old liars, who might have caused Susanna's execution, were themselves put to death for their misdeeds.

Which of these paintings appeals to you and why? Log in and tell us about it.

Images are from public domain sources.

#thomashartbenton #artemisiagentileschi #tintoretto #susannaandtheelders

For more on Marjorie Vernelle, see the author page at amazon.com/author/marjorievernelle

She also has an engaging art history blog that talks of painting and wine on ofartandwine.com

© Marjorie Vernelle 2019