An ode to Artemisia Gentileschi

I have spent hours and hours scouring the internet for classical paintings with feminist themes, and in doing so have developed an admiration for Italian baroque painter Artemisia Gentileschi (1593-1656). Her paintings seemed to pop up at every turn, and with good reason. Allow me to introduce her to you.

Life history

Gentileschi was born in Rome in 1593. Her mother died when she was quite young, and her father, Orazio, a painter, did not remarry. It was not common for girls and women at the time to spend much time outside of the house, especially not when they were essentially the head of the household, even at such a young age. Gentileschi spent her days taking care of the home and going to church on Sundays. That, and, spending as much time as she could in her father's art studio as an apprentice. She had done so since the age of 16 and would soon produce works such as Susanna and the Elders (1610) before even turning 18.

Susanna and the Elders (1610)

Clearly talented and encouraged by her father, she continues to paint. From the start she was interested in feminist themes, which seems to have increased even more when she fell victim to a sexual assault at the age of 19. An artist by the name of Agostino Tassi, at the time in residence with Gentileschi's father, had developed an obsession with her. When he visited the house with a friend one day, he found Gentileschi alone and raped her. She fought back. In te trial that followed, she reportedly stated that:

"[...] I scratched his face, pulled his hair, and before he could penetrate me again, I grabbed his penis so hard that I tore off a piece of skin."

But it didn't stop him, nor did anyone else in the house head to her calls for help. Tassi later said that he would marry Gentileschi, to repair her tarnished reputation. How generous of him. He turned out to be a liar and an adulterer as well as a rapist, as he was actually already married. The case went to trial on the premise of the besmudged family name of the Gentileschis and lasted seven months. Tassi confessed that he had planned to kill his wife and to steal paintings from Orazio, seemingly feeling no remorse for his actions and other plans. He was sentenced to be exiled from Rome. It's unclear whether that was actually enforced. He spent less than a year in prison.

Gentileschi's paintings became darker in nature after this event. More on that later. After the trial, her father married her off to an artist from Florence where she spent the next six years working as a court painter with the Medici family. She attended the Academy of Arts and Drawing, being the first woman ever accepted to this school. Following opportunities and at time fleeing from slight scandals - she took a lover in Florence and word started to spread - Gentileschi moved around from place to place. From Rome to Venice, then Naples and London, she continued to paint throughout. Today, her work is an iconic staple of the baroque movement.

Judith Slaying Holofernes (1620)

Depictions of Judith and other powerful women

Gentileschi often painted violent biblical scenes, especially of women attacking men. Her work is exemplary of the artistic topos called Weibermacht (Power of Women), a branch in art and literature stemming from the Middle Ages, described by Susan Smith (1995, 2) as "the representational practice of bringing together at least two, but usually more, well-known figures from the Bible, ancient history, or romance to exemplify a cluster of interrelated themes that include the wiles of women, the power of love, and the trials of marriage". Women in these depictions were rebellious and used violence, sex, and lies to keep the men in their lives under their thumb. It's quite the contrast to more common representations of women in paintings of this era. The image that comes to mind for me is that of noblewomen with a slight smile and tranquil eyes, fair-skinned with perfect posture. Very proper and soft. In Weibermacht depictions, however, their expressions are different. Their eyes show conviction. Determination and fire. Their bodies are strong and their clothes may show wear and tear. It's a theme most fitting for a painter such as Gentileschi.

It is speculated that she based many of the women in her paintings on her own likeness. Almost like she was enacting vengeance on her own perpetrator through the depictions of these women who were torturing, beheading, or planning to harm the men opposite to them. Then again, perhaps that's too simple an explanation. One that essentially reduces her to this one act imposed upon her. It should be noted that her work was already full of feminist themes in her early days. Her first painting, Susanna and the Elders, depicts a biblical story of a woman being disturbed by two old men while she is bathing. They ask her for sexual favors and when she refuses, the men threaten to spread rumors of her being an adulteress, which would ruin her reputation. So while, sure, her later work is more explicitly violent and dark in nature, I would say the seeds were already planted in her early days.

Judith Slaying Holofernes (1620), cropped

The woman she painted most often, it seems, is the biblical Judith. The painting above is her most recognizable, though she has made multiple paintings of this exact scene. It's a gruesome story, in case you couldn't tell. I know it quite well, as my sister is named after this badass woman. In short, Judith is a widow in the village of Bethulia. Her village is under siege by the Assyrian army and her people are suffering. Devastated by this injustice, Judith decides to take matters into her own hands. In order to defeat the army and stop the siege, she reckons she will have to kill the general Holofernes. So she forges a plan with the help of her handmaiden Abra. The village announces its "surrender" to Holofernes' army and Judith dolls herself up, visits their encampment and offers herself to the general. He gladly accepts. The army celebrates its victory with an elaborate banquet, where Holofernes drinks and drinks until he is barely conscious. Judith seizes her opportunity and leads him to his bed. Verse 16: 9 reads as follows:

Her sandal ravished his eye,

Her beauty made captive his soul,

The sword passed through his neck.

The two women place his severed head in a sack and return to their fellow villagers in victory, ending the conflict and restoring peace to Bethulia. Gentileschi will go on to paint Judith in many settings. From the pre-banquet meeting with Abra, to the murderous scene, to the aftermath. While I reject the idea that she should be defined by her survival of sexual assault, I do hope paintings such as these provided Gentileschi with an outlet for what I can only imagine must have been an immense fury. I certainly feel it when I look at her work.

Reference List

Smith, Susan. 1995. The Power of Women: A Topos in Medieval Art and Literature. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.