I became interested in the Baroque artist Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1653) after attending the 2021 “Artemisia” exhibition at the National Gallery London. Thinking about Renaissance and Baroque artists we evoke names such as Caravaggio, Michelangelo, Rubens and Bernini. All masters of their craft no doubt, however figures such as Artemisia Gentileschi, who show a parallel vigour and genius in their use of colour, skill, and subject matter are often overlooked due to their gender. Gentileschi’s work was repopularised in the 20th century as the harrowing documentation of her account of sexual assault by her father’s friend came to light. Subsequently, her work was used to mirror the ethos of 20th century feminist movements through her clear demonstration of resilience, strength and reclamation of power through art.
Two of Gentileschi’s masterpieces, Susanna and the Elders (1610) and Judith Slaying Holofernes (1612) were central to the display. Both depict traditional biblical scenes, which have been a popular subject for artists of the period. Gentileschi does something startling and innovative in her treatment of power dynamics and agency within these paintings.
In the story of Susanna, a young woman is privately bathing as two men spy on her demanding that she submit to them sexually. In contemporaneous presentations of this story, Susanna is depicted as a virtuous young maid who is paradoxically shying away from the older men but still inviting the audience to gaze upon her nude form.
It is interesting how a story about male violence against women is repeatedly shown by male artists as a narrative of female subservience, sensuality, and fear. Gentileschi alternatively presents Susanna as an active member of the scene. In her version of the painting, she is shown dramatically pushing the lecherous old men away from her as she twists her body away from their presence. Here, Artemisia awards the scene with a sense of female agency and autonomy otherwise unseen in the other contemporary versions of this image.
The 20th century study of Gentileschi often views her art solely through the lens of the traumatising sexual assault she experienced. Her iconic painting Judith Slaying Holofernes (1612) has been continuously read as Gentileschi reclaiming the power stripped from her after her rape. This painting tells the story of the Assyrian general Holofernes who, in his quest to besiege the town of Bethulia, is seduced and consequently murdered by the widow Judith. The work is a form of catharsis with Judith symbolising Gentileschi and Holofernes representing her rapist, Agostini Tassi, who is mercilessly beheaded. This reading of the biblical scene is a powerful one and allows Gentileschi to reclaim her narrative and enact revenge through her art. This interpretation holds weight – however, it oversimplifies the complexity of her work. As much as this painting is a reflection of enacting revenge it is also an exploration of female solidarity and power. Unlike Caravaggio’s Judith Beheading Holofernes (1598), where the maidservant is depicted as an elderly, passive figure, Gentileschi portrays the maid as young and determined, reflecting Judith’s resolve. The similar ages and unspoken mutual determination show this to be an image to be about friendship and profound female alliance.
The goal of the exhibition’s curator, Letizia Treves, was for people to consider Gentileschi beyond her assault, allowing the audience to study her life and art as a whole in a nuanced and complex way.
Although a renowned artist during her lifetime, which as a female was in itself an exceptional feat, Artemisia fell into obscurity in the centuries after her death, like other female Renaissance painters of her time. It was only in the 1970s that a feminist group rediscovered and popularised her work. The volume of her art that exists, as well as other contemporaneous documents, give us a startlingly rare insight into the role and position of a female artist during the Renaissance period. It was her seemingly proto-feminist approach to life and art that resonated with modern audiences.
Thus, when studying the work of Gentileschi, I implore you to explore her work beyond sexual assault. While it is important to acknowledge the horror and trauma of that event, to view her work as a sole response to her rape confines her identity to her victimhood. This reductive perspective not only diminishes the multifaceted strength and resilience of her character but also eclipses the profound technical mastery and complexity that define her work. In 1649, two years before her death, Artemisia wrote to the art collector Ruffo: “With me you will find the spirit of Caesar in the soul of a woman.” This speaks to the very heart of the role of female artistic creation throughout history. Her work and temperament stands side-by-side with giants such as Raphael, Michelangelo and Caravaggio. Yet, by virtue of being born a woman, the notion of her greatness was deemed inconceivable, an impossibility in her time. Now that her genius is starting to be accepted, it is crucial to award her the same dignity and complexity with which consider the other great masters of the Renaissance.
“Artemisia gentileschi, giuditta e oloferne, 1625-30 ca. 02, Q378” by Sailko is licensed under CC BY 3.0.