Artemisia Gentileschi: The woman behind the paintings - Allison Leigh
A woman enters an enemy army camp.
When the watchmen stop her,
she says she’s willing to tell her
people’s secrets to the ranking general.
But she isn’t actually a traitor.
On her fourth day
under the general’s protection,
she waits for him to get
drunk and beheads him,
saving her people from his tyranny.
This is the biblical story
of how the heroine Judith
slays the brutal Holofernes.
It features in countless works of art,
including the Sistine Chapel.
But the most iconic depiction
of all was painted by an artist
who tackled this ambitious scene
when she was just 19 years old.
Her name was Artemisia Gentileschi,
though many scholars refer to her simply
as Artemisia, like other Italian masters.
So who was Artemisia, and what sets her
depiction apart from the rest?
Artemisia received her artistic training
from her father Orazio Gentileschi.
He tutored her in the dramatic
new style of painting pioneered
by the artist Caravaggio.
This style, called the Baroque,
built upon earlier Renaissance traditions.
While Renaissance artists had focused
on imitating the classical Greeks,
depicting moments of calmness or poise
amidst intensity,
Baroque artists emphasized the climactic
moment of a story with dynamic action.
Baroque works also dial up the drama
through composition
and extreme contrasts of light and dark,
called chiaroscuro or tenebrism.
Taken together, the effect is a more
direct emotional appeal to viewers.
Though Artemisia drew
from Caravaggio’s style,
by many accounts,
her rendering outmatched the older
master’s depiction of the same story.
Like Artemisia, Caravaggio focused
on the moment of the beheading,
dramatically contrasting light and dark
and emphasizing the gore.
But his painting lacks the visceral impact
of Artemisia’s.
Where Caravaggio’s heroine keeps
her distance from the bloody act,
Artemisia’s Judith pushed up her sleeves
and wedged her knee on the bed
to counter Holofernes’ resistance.
Her body has a heft that makes
the action believable,
and the viscous streams of blood soaking
the sheets are highly naturalistic.
The blood spraying from the severed artery
in Caravaggio’s
looks stilted and artificial
by comparison.
And yet this isn't even her most
celebrated painting of the scene.
She finished this painting in 1613,
shortly after marrying
and moving to Florence,
where she found professional success
following a very difficult period
in her life.
In 1611, a colleague of her father’s,
Agostino Tassi,
nicknamed “lo Smargiasso,” or “the bully,”
raped her.
When Artemisia told her father,
he filed charges for the crime
of “forcible violation of a virgin”—
a designation that meant Tassi had
damaged Orazio’s property.
Rape laws centered almost entirely
on young women's bodies
as commodities owned by their fathers.
Tassi’s trial lasted for seven months,
during which Artemisia was subjected
to interrogation
and torture with thumbscrews
as she testified against him.
Tassi was ultimately found guilty,
but his powerful patrons managed
to have his sentence revoked.
Some scholars have suggested
that Artemisia started the painting
while the trial was still underway.
Many have debated whether
the rape influenced her work.
Artemisia revisited the subject
of Judith repeatedly.
One painting shows Judith
and her maidservant
trying to leave the enemy encampment.
Here, Artemisia added a tiny ornament
in Judith’s hair,
possibly referencing David,
the protector of Florence,
with a nod to Michelangelo.
On the sword’s hilt there’s a screaming
Gorgon or Medusa—
both female archetypes evoking
rage and power
which link the work to Caravaggio.
Artemisia painted her most famous
portrayal of Judith between 1618 and 1620.
The composition is similar to that of her
first painting from 1613,
but has meaningful details
for those who look closely.
The sword more directly
resembles a crucifix,
heightening the sense that Judith's
vengeance was a holy act ordained by God.
Artemisia also added a bracelet featuring
the goddess of the hunt—
her namesake, Artemis.
This signature is one of the many ways
her art holds true to a sentiment
that she expressed near the end
of her life:
“The works will speak for themselves.”
