“I will show you what a woman can do”...

Artemisia Gentileschi’s Strong Women.

One of the first essays I wrote in university was on the Baroque painter, Artemisia Gentileschi. When learning about Artemisia, I was immediately captivated, not only by the sheer beauty in the storytelling of her paintings, but also by the compelling narrative of her own life.

At a time when women artists were unrecognised for their intellect or skill, Gentileschi rose to prominence as one of the most sought-after artists in the 17th century. Disguising the horrors of her life into biblical and mythological paintings, she shone a much needed light onto the struggles that women silently faced and infused her subjects with her own confident and self-assured traits. Straying from male representations of women as weak or frail, she showcased the true charm, voice, and strength of what it meant to be a woman - ardently writing to her patron: “I will show Your Illustrious Lordship what a woman can do”… 

Artemisia Gentileschi, Self-Portrait. Oil on canvas. Windsor Castle, London, c.1638-9.

As a young girl, Artemisia spent her adolescent years within the confines of her home. The streets of 16th-century Rome were considered unsafe for women at the time and besides, her role as the eldest sister of three brothers left her with little time to wander and explore. This responsibility only heightened after the death of her mother at the age of twelve, where she was forced to support her family and as a result was was not given an education until her early twenties. However, she was lucky enough to have a successful artist for a father (Orazio Gentileschi) who allowed her to work as an apprentice in his studio. In this artistic environment she became inspired to produce her very own masterpieces that soon surpassed the success of her own father.

One of her most famous works, still today, was her rendition of the biblical story: ‘Judith Slaying Holofernes’. 

Artemisia Gentileschi, Judith Slaying Holofernes. Oil on canvas. Uffizi Gallery, Florence, 1620. 

This work recounts the gruesome and revolutionary tale of the assassination of the Assyrian general, Holofernes, by a young woman named Judith. Filled with a desire to defend her people from Holofernes’ army, who had unleashed a ravaging siege against her village, she seduced the general to invite her into his tent for a lavish banquet. In his tent, Holofernes ate and drank until he grew drunk and fell asleep. With Holofernes now intoxicated, unarmed, and distracted, Judith seized her chance and began to decapitate Holofernes with the help of her maidservant, Abra!

Artemisia’s painting presents the brutal climax of this story. Here, we see the moment of decapitation, of intense vigour and strength, and of victory and freedom. Artemisia exhibited the true physical struggle it would have taken for an act like this to be completed. When looking at this piece I can almost feel the struggle of the two women to pin Holofernes down, and can appreciate the determination for liberation in Judith’s controlled and hardened gaze. 

Caravaggio, Judith Slaying Holofernes. Oil on canvas. Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica at Palazzo Barberini, Rome, 1602.

While Gentileschi chose to emphasise the themes of camaraderie, sisterhood, and female empowerment in her work, her male counterparts painted this scene very differently. Take Caravaggio as an example (on the left): in his rendition, he emphasised Holofernes’ screaming face and painted Judith as a meek young girl. Placed in a white blouse of innocence, in his version, Judith isn’t a heroic figure, but instead, a young girl who seems hardly capable of having the force required for this gruesome and emancipative task. While her maidservant, Abra, is literally presented as a frail, old woman. 

Artemisia's painting, quite literally, showcased the resilience and strength of what women were capable of. But for some, her work seemed too realistic, too graphic, and even…vengeful, with some going so far as to call this work her ‘painting of revenge’.

But, why would it be a ‘painting of revenge’?

Though Artemisia lived a cloistered life within the close reach of her father, she wasn’t completely hidden from the clutches of all men and in her time apprenticing she was horrifically raped by an artist called, Tassi. Surprisingly, Artemisia’s case was taken to court by her father - an outcome that was rare for the time. But, it was only because Tassi refused to marry her. The trial was brutal, gruelling, and unlawful. To prove her sincerity during the trial, Artemisia was tortured with tightened cords around her hands, to which she repeatedly cried out, “it’s true, it’s true, it’s true”. Meanwhile, Tassi was left with only a brief exile, which he eventually ignored. 

With this in mind, the strength of Artemisia’s women becomes more clear and perhaps her painting was a ‘painting of revenge’. 

But, regardless of whether it was or wasn’t, Artemisia’s paintings were more than a reimagining of her rape. Instead, they were a reinvention of what it meant to be a woman in the 16th and 17th century.

At a time when women were seen as weak, frail, or submissive, Artemisia portrayed them as daring, courageous, and most importantly, strong!