290 EMWJ 2012, Vol . 7 Exhibition Reviews Review of Artemisia
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
290 EMWJ 2012, vol . 7 Exhibition Reviews Review of Artemisia Gentileschi: Storia di Una Passione . Curated by Roberto Contini and Francesco Solinas . Palazzo Reale, Milan, 22 September 2011–29 January 2012 . On October 24, 2011, I eagerly hurried up the steps of the Palazzo Reale in Milan, notebook in hand, to see an art exhibition that promised to honor Artemisia Gentileschi, famous woman painter of the 1600s. This was the first show dedicated entirely to her work, so I returned to the exhibit on two more occasions to study it in detail, to hear the commentary in both Italian and English, and to admire some of the new discoveries. Though I did not attend this exhibition with the intention of writing a response, the review that follows essentially demanded to be written. In the promotion for Artemisia Gentileschi: Storia di una Passione, we are told that the curators wish to focus on Artemisia Gentileschi’s art, thereby introducing the gallery visitor to one of the great painters of the seventeenth century. If the intent is to lift Artemisia Gentileschi out of the stereotypes of the past, it is probably ill-advised to have us enter the exhibi- tion through an art installation consisting of a rumpled bed and a looped audio commentary reciting the explicit details of the rape of Artemisia Gentileschi by Agostino Tassi. The words of the rape victim from the trial record are delivered by a woman’s voice in Italian. The voice describes her unsuccessful attempt to repel Tassi and the inevitable penetration. It is a short segment, which repeats over and over and over and over again. When you enter the next room, with the words of the rape trial still ringing out behind you, you confront the Naples Capodimonte version of Judith Decapitating Holofernes. It is the only painting in the room — a bril- liant work by Artemisia. The audio commentary suggests that the piece was probably devised, conceived, and requisitioned in Florence by Grand Duke Cosimo II de Medici, shortly after the rape trial in Rome. Apparently, simply being in the orbit of a great man like Cosimo II explains the excep- tional quality of the composition. The subtext of the audio commentary accompanying this exhibition is thus introduced in the first room and maintained throughout: you need only look to the great men in Artemisia Gentileschi’s life to explain her success. EMW12.indb 290 8/28/12 12:30:43 PM Exhibition Reviews 291 First of all, she is born into a “long line of artists.” (In this review all direct quotations are taken from the audio commentary.) The family tree on the wall of the next room carefully demonstrates Artemisia’s lineage on her father’s side, including goldsmiths and painters. Interestingly, we have simply “first wife” or “second wife” (no names or dates) in the female line. Actually, Artemisia’s grandmother (second wife), a Lorenzini from Florence, also came from a family of goldsmiths and provided family con- nections in Florence for the goldsmiths in her immediate family. Even Artemisia’s mother has only her name listed, with no dates. Apparently it isn’t significant in this artist’s life that her mother died when she was just twelve, a life-altering event at that age. Looking at Artemisia’s family tree, visitors to the show cannot determine this fact for themselves. As Griselda Pollock proposed in her article, “Feminist Mythologies and Missing Mothers,” knowing this information about Artemisia has the potential to “shift the canonical meanings of her themes.” But in this family tree, it’s all about the men. One of the first paintings in the family-tree room is a portrait of Artemisia Gentileschi by her friend, Simon Vouet. To each side of this portrait are newly-discovered excerpts from letters that Artemisia wrote to her long-term lover, Francesco Maria Maringhi. These previously unpub- lished letters were discovered in the archives of Cassiano dal Pozzo and are available for the first time in the book Lettere di Artemisia, edited by Francesco Solinas. We owe him a great debt of gratitude for his meticulous work on Artemisia’s letters, which offer countless potential avenues for future research and will no doubt help us locate more of the “lost” works. This large room in the exhibit also features a painting by Artemisia’s uncle, Aurelio Lomi, along with two paintings by her father, Orazio Gentileschi: Saint Cecilia (1603–1605, an unpublished version from a private collec- tion) and Judith Triumphant with the Head of Holofernes, attributed to “Orazio and helpers.” So far in this exhibition we have been made aware of seven men: Agostino Tassi, Cosimo II de Medici, Simon Vouet, Francesco Maria Maringhi, Cassiano dal Pozzo, Aurelio Lomi, and Orazio Gentileschi. In the second room we have seen one fine painting by Artemisia, but in the next one we encounter several paintings by other artists and several EMW12.indb 291 8/28/12 12:30:43 PM 292 EMWJ 2012, vol . 7 Exhibition Reviews paintings with questioned or questionable attributions to Artemisia. The works credited to her in this room include some paintings previously not included in her oeuvre, perhaps with good reason. The amateurish Judith and Abra with the Head of Holofernes is described as “perhaps among the earliest works of Artemisia Gentileschi.” A Portrait of a Nun, first proposed by Roberto Contini (Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi, 2001) as a possible work by Artemisia based on a black-and-white photograph, is here pre- sented as hers despite the fact that the recently discovered original paint- ing is even less suggestive of her authorship than the photograph. In the far right of the room there are two versions of Madonna and Child. One comes from the Palatina in Florence and is presented side-by-side with another version very recently sold in Paris to a private collector. They recall the more familiar Spada Gallery painting of the same name in Rome, but these two do not involve the child caressing the mother’s face. Here, both are considered to be very early works by Artemisia Gentileschi, although these attributions are not secure. In the next room we finally see The Penitent Mary Magdalene from the Palatina Gallery in Florence. It is an absolute joy to experience. However, directly opposite it is a huge copy of the painting, which has been mutilated. In the mutilated version, the entire section depicting the Magdalene’s head has been chopped out and no doubt sold separately. It is extremely jarring to be exposed to this, and I have to wonder why it was felt important to display it. Another room, with many mirrors situated in the middle of the space, is focused on Artemisia’s work in portraiture. No one can fail to be impressed by two new full-length portraits by Artemisia Gentileschi on display for the first time. The impressive Portrait of a Woman with a Fan was reduced in size at some time in the past, from its full-length version to the three-quarters version on display. Regardless, these two portraits alone would merit a visit. They demonstrate Artemisia’s exceptional ability to capture character and attitude while at the same time rendering fabrics and light with absolute virtuosity. Her portraits, however, if you believe the audio commentary, owe a great deal to another great man, Anthony Van Dyck, who arrived in Rome in 1621. Artemisia had already been painting portraits of the aristocracy in Rome after her return in early 1620. And EMW12.indb 292 8/28/12 12:30:43 PM Exhibition Reviews 293 even though there is no evidence that Artemisia met Van Dyck, we are told that she likely saw his work and “naturally absorbed his style.” This is sup- posedly evident in the poses and attributes of her portraits. She also owes a great deal to Vouet with respect to portraiture, if you believe the audio commentary, which suggests she learned “shading and sophistication of expression” from him. A close examination of Vouet’s portrait of Artemisia (1623–26) actually reveals a painter who could learn a great deal from his subject, who paints with much more subtlety. The possibility that other painters copied Artemisia’s stellar compositions is not considered seriously enough in this exhibit. One huge Bathsheba is clearly a copy. And, unfor- tunately, some poor imitations of Artemisia’s work are among the best-lit paintings in the entire exhibit. A regrettable Cleopatra (from Fondazione Cavallini), dated unbelievably to 1620–25, is prominently placed as you round a corner. At the same time, other outstanding paintings, with widely accepted attributions to Artemisia, languish in dim light where it is nearly impossible to read the comments beside them. They are literally al buio (in the gloom). As we move along, the audio commentary continues to honor the great men whose art influenced Artemisia. We are told that Paolo Veronese’s influence is evident in her large and impressive Esther Before Ahasuerus (1626), supposedly because a dog and a black page boy were originally included in the composition, then painted over, as revealed in x-ray examination of the painting. We are told that Artemisia was trying to use these Veronese-style figures but likely couldn’t succeed in painting them, so she left them out. Unbelievably, even the rapist Agostino Tassi gets credit in the commentary for this painting. We are told that the room in the painting has been constructed according to rules of perspective that she learned from him. And then there is Giovanni Baglione. Baglione’s controversial Allegory of Painting was displayed in the 2002 New York exhibit Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi and unfortunately shows up once again in this exhi- bition.