Artemisia Gentileschi
NG6671 
Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria

Letizia Treves, 2024

With technical contributions by Larry Keith and Marta Melchiorre, 2024

Extracted from:
The National Gallery; with entries by Emma Capron, Dillian Gordon, Sarah Herring, Mary McMahon, Letizia Treves and Francesca Whitlum‐Cooper; with technical contributions by Paul Ackroyd, Rachel Billinge, Lynne Harrison, Catherine Higgitt, Helen Howard, Larry Keith, Marta Melchiorre, Britta New, David Peggie, Marika Spring and Hayley Tomlinson, Online Entries (London: The National Gallery, 2024).

About 1615–17

Oil on canvas, 71.4 × 69 cm

The National Gallery, London. Bought with the support of the American Friends of the National Gallery, the National Gallery Trust, Art Fund (through the legacy of Sir Denis Mahon), Lord and Lady Sassoon, Lady Getty, Hannah Rothschild CBE, Mrs Mollie W. Vickers, the Hon. Mrs Ashley Dawson‐Damer, The Society of Dilettanti Charitable Trust Fund, Mr Andrew Green QC and Ms Hirschl, Mr Matthew Santos and Mrs Mary Kuusisto, Mr Peter Scott CBE QC and Dr Richard Ballantine, the Diane Apostolos‐Cappadona Trust, Mr Stephen Allcock, Mr James and Lady Emma Barnard, Miss Maxine White and Mr James Mortimer, Michael and Felicia Crystal, The W T J Griffin Charitable Settlement and other donors including those who wish to remain anonymous, 2018.

Technical Notes

Support

The support is a medium‐weight, plain weave linen canvas made from two horizontal strips of fabric, the lower of which is approximately 7 cm wide, which could have come from the same canvas roll.¹ The pieces were joined together and strongly stretched before painting, as indicated by the pattern of canvas distortion seen in the X‐radiograph (fig. 1). The right edge shows signs of having been previously folded about 1.5–2 cm from the present edge; this fold was opened some time before the painting was lined (prior to the picture’s acquisition by the National Gallery). The top edge is jagged and irregular, with little or no cusping, which suggests it has been trimmed.

Materials and Technique²

Once joined, the two pieces of canvas were prepared with a layer of organic material (most likely animal glue) mixed with small amounts of calcium sulphate and black and red pigments. This layer perhaps acted as a sizing and probably filled only the interstices of the canvas. A yellow‐brown ground, containing yellow earth,³ large amounts of calcium carbonate, some lead white, smaller quantities of umber and a finely grained black pigment, was then applied.

Artemisia often reused the same compositional elements in her works. Technical comparisons with other paintings executed in Florence around the same time as the Self Portrait as Saint Catherine suggest that she transposed part of the design for this work using a transfer method, such as a tracing or a cartoon (see fig. 7 and fig. 8, below). However, no lines or marks deriving from this process have been detected, perhaps obscured by subsequent paint layers, or lost during the painting’s execution, or made on the yellow‐brown ground with a medium not visible in infrared images or the X‐radiograph, such as white chalk.⁴ Infrared images show only a few fine brushstrokes that might be interpreted as sketch lines executed in paint: for the sitter’s curls over her proper right ear and for a shape beneath the broken wheel that might represent a book or tablet (see below) (fig. 2 and fig. 3).⁵ While it is not entirely clear how far Artemisia progressed with this earlier shape, technical images show that she covered it with a dark paint containing umber (fig. 4 and fig. 5).⁶ The broken wheel was then added over this revision and over part of the painted background. The sitter’s yellow shawl extends over the wheel, indicating that Artemisia did not follow or reuse a pre‐established design in this area (see comparisons with the Uffizi Saint Catherine of Alexandria, below); neither did she use an existing design for other parts of the composition. The white turn‐up of the sitter’s sleeve, for example, rolled at her elbow, was added on top of paint laid down for her dress, as was the inner triangular fold of her yellow shawl at bottom right.

A significant revision was also made in the arrangement of the sitter’s draperies over her proper right shoulder, where some fabric from her turban originally fell over her chest and was held under her right hand (fig. 12). The draperies along the sitter’s back were also adjusted and some locks of her hair on the left were suppressed under background paint, perhaps because they lay too close to the palm frond.

Artemisia applied a cool, purple underpaint as a base for the sitter’s dress, which contributes to its crimson hue and the depth of colour of its shadows. The underpaint contains finely ground azurite mixed with red lake, lead white, lesser amounts of black and a very small amount of yellow earth.⁷ Shadows in the dress are rendered with multiple translucent glazes, the first containing a red lake mixed with colourless particles of powdered glass and a touch of vermilion.⁸ The same components, with lead white, make up the semi‐opaque pink used to begin defining the lighter areas of the dress. Artemisia then applied a complex sequence of opaque pinks and translucent reds (which do not contain glass) to further model the folds of the fabric. The uppermost glazes, which have faded to some extent, contain a red lake derived from the dyestuff of the cochineal insect.⁹

The sitter’s shawl is rendered in a brown‐yellow paint containing a yellow earth mixed with variable amounts of bone black, umber and red earth. In the shadows, this is followed by glazes of an unidentified yellow lake that is now much faded.¹⁰ The highlights contain mixtures of lead white and lead‐tin‐antimony yellow, a relatively unusual artificial pigment first reported in seventeenth‐century paintings produced in Rome.¹¹ In the National Gallery self portrait, the pigment is also found in the semi‐transparent veil draped across the sitter’s body (where it is mixed with lead white and yellow earth), in the brightest details of the points of the crown (where it is applied over darker tones consisting of yellow earth and the more common lead‐tin yellow) and in the lighter tones of the palm frond.¹² The mid‐ and dark tones of the palm are rendered with mixtures of earth pigments and an unidentified green copper‐based pigment. Small amounts of a copper‐based pigment were also included in the background paint, the colour of which is modulated by mixing varying proportions of yellow earth, umber, lead white and black.

Although the yellow‐brown ground is not intentionally left exposed as a component of the finished painting, it influences the overall tonality and colour relationships, contributing to the dense and saturated appearance of the mid‐ and dark tones. This is seen, for example, in the flesh tones, painted with varied proportions of lead white, vermilion, lead‐tin yellow, earth pigments (including small amounts of umber) and possibly bone black.¹³ A red paint containing vermilion was used to define the sitter’s facial features and ear.¹⁴

Analysis of a sample of flesh paint from the arm identified the paint medium as heat‐bodied linseed oil.¹⁵

Condition and Conservation History

There is no record of any conservation treatment before the painting’s acquisition by the National Gallery, although the canvas had been lined and the painting cleaned and retouched at least once.

The original canvas pieces (see Support, above) were paste‐lined onto another canvas support most probably in the nineteenth or early twentieth century. The lining canvas bore the inscription ‘715’ in the upper right quadrant of the reverse.

At the time of acquisition there was an irregular compound tear through the canvas about 4 cm wide, just to the left of the subject’s proper right wrist, and a smaller protruding canvas deformation above the left side of the crown, both with associated paint loss. There was another triangular loss of paint and ground along the top edge, just left of the palm frond, and a few small, deep scratches through the paint near the upper right corner.

On acquisition, the painting was given a comprehensive conservation treatment that included cleaning, relining and retouching.¹⁶ Discoloured varnishes were reduced or removed.¹⁷ Old retouchings were removed, some of which required stronger solvent solutions. The old fillings and retouchings along both the original canvas seam and the unfolded tacking edge on the right were removed either with solvent gels or with a combination of solvents and mechanical action. The area around the tear in the lower left was consolidated (with sturgeon glue), and a layer of protective tissue was temporarily adhered to the surface of the picture before the old lining was removed. After removing the old lining and adhesive the tear was repaired and small pieces of new, oil‐primed canvas were inserted into the canvas losses along the join.¹⁸ The facing tissue was then removed. Following this the painting was flattened,¹⁹ and small holes in the support, mostly around the edges where woodworm in an old stretcher had eaten into the canvas, were filled.²⁰ A second flattening treatment was carried out in order to re‐examine the surface. A thin strip of the new, primed canvas was added to the top edge.²¹ The picture was re‐faced and then relined.²² The painting was re‐stretched onto its existing stretcher fitted with a plain linen loose lining.

The original canvas was missing its tacking edges on all sides apart from the right edge, which had been unfolded and used to extend the composition at the time of its previous, presumably nineteenth‐ or early twentieth‐century, lining. A combination of physical and art historical evidence – including the lack of canvas cusping, the truncated crown and palm frond, and compositional elements present in other Artemisia paintings from around the same date – suggested that some part of the original image had been trimmed from the top edge. It was decided to extend this edge by the minimum amount required to complete the palm frond and the pearls on the crown; by contrast, the halo remains cropped. A thin strip of primed canvas of similar weave density was added, fitted to the irregular upper edge of the original canvas during relining. The missing crown element and tip of the palm frond were reconstructed, while the arc of the halo was extended across the added strip of canvas.

The unfolded tacking edge at the right was not disturbed in the recent structural treatment, and was retouched to simulate the original ground colour. In this area the restoration was taken no further; it has been covered by the rebate of the frame which was newly acquired for the work and modified accordingly.

Retouching of the crown, palm frond and halo consisted of compensation of losses and reduction of fine abrasion where the intended tonal and chromatic transitions were disrupted. Still visible through the paint layers are remnants of brushstrokes which play no role in the final composition, particularly in the background and the exposed forearm. These areas were reduced with retouching, while some of the missing darker tones of the damaged or faded red lakes in the upper sleeve were also strengthened.

Description

Artemisia Gentileschi paints herself as the fourth‐century martyr Saint Catherine of Alexandria. The young woman is shown half‐length, tightly cropped, her body orientated to the left and her head angled in the opposite direction so that she turns to meet the viewer’s gaze. She wears a crimson‐red dress, and a yellow ochre‐coloured shawl is wrapped loosely around her body, hitched up onto her right shoulder and dropping at her waist. The tones of the garments have become slightly muted over time; the red of the dress would originally have been more vibrant and the shadows of the yellow shawl a slightly deeper hue (see Materials and Technique). Her white undergarment peeks out along her neck‐ and shoulder‐line and the left sleeve is rolled up to her elbow, jutting out into the viewer’s space, convincingly three‐dimensional in its rucks and folds. A semi‐transparent veil is draped across her body and a weightier cloth is wound around her head like a turban, its fabric trailing behind her and ending in frayed tassels at the waist. Her gold crown, with eight irregular points each topped with a pearl, emerges from behind her headcloth. The young woman’s halo indicates that she is a saint, as does the palm frond which she holds delicately against her breast between right thumb and forefinger, as if it were a painter’s brush. Her left arm is extended and her hand gently rests on top of a broken wheel studded with iron spikes, a symbol of Catherine of Alexandria’s torture and an attribute frequently associated with the saint.

As recounted by Jacopo de Voragine in The Golden Legend, Catherine was married to Christ in a dream. The Emperor Maxentius enlisted fifty eminent philosophers to dispute with her, but Catherine successfully defended her faith and converted them all. The emperor subsequently sentenced her to death, and she was bound to two sets of revolving wheels studded with iron spikes and nails. Catherine was freed from the instrument of her torture by divine intervention and was eventually beheaded.

The saint is frequently portrayed wearing magnificent clothes alluding to her noble birth and donning a crown which refers to her alleged royal status – she was the daughter of Constus, Roman governor of Alexandria. This may explain the slightly incongruous inclusion of a crown in the National Gallery painting, in addition to the halo and headcloth. A stark light falls from the right‐hand side, casting shadows to the left, and giving the figure a strong physical presence and convincing three‐dimensionality. Artemisia creates a sense of depth by placing the shadowed part of her face against a lighter background while the darker area to the right of the figure offsets her shimmering halo and the paler tones of her headscarf. Artemisia shows full control of her medium and the brushwork is considerably varied. Some parts of the figure are strongly modelled, especially the smooth, opaque handling of the skin tones – particularly evident on her left forearm – but Artemisia adopts a lighter touch in the soft curls of her hair or in the diaphanous veil draped across her body. The matt woodgrain texture of the broken wheel, with its jagged splintered profile, contrasts with the gleaming cold metal of the iron spikes. The juxtaposition of these sharp, angular forms with the supple flesh of Catherine’s hand, poised between the spikes, underlines the saint’s vulnerability at the hands of those who tortured her.

Dating and Related Works

The Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria was almost certainly painted in the artist’s early twenties, in the years following her arrival in Florence in late 1612 or early January 1613.²³ It was here that Artemisia produced some of her finest works and the seven years she spent in the city were to prove transformative for her, both personally and professionally. As a married woman she gained a certain independence, she learned to read and write and forged strategic friendships. She set up a painting studio almost immediately in the house of her father‐in‐law, the tailor Vincenzo Stiattesi, on via Campaccio (near the Basilica of San Lorenzo), and then, after Vincenzo’s death in 1615, on Borgo Ognissanti.²⁴ On 19 July 1616 she matriculated at the Accademia e Compagnia delle Arti del Disegno – one of the first women to do so in the Academy’s fifty‐year history – officially joining the art establishment in Florence.²⁵ This gave Artemisia ample opportunity to frequent contemporary painters, such as Cristofano Allori (1577–1621), and granted her access to a host of the Academy’s most cultured members, including the astronomer Galileo Galilei (1564–1642) and the poet Michelangelo Buonarroti the Younger (1568–1646). The latter introduced Artemisia to ‘the luminaries of the Florentine court’ and proved to be a valuable friend and supporter.²⁶ Indeed, her only documented work in Florence, the Allegory of Inclination, was commissioned by Buonarroti as part of a decorative scheme for the ceiling of the Galleria in Casa Buonarroti, his Florentine residence, and was nearing completion by the time Artemisia joined the Academy in the summer of 1616.²⁷

Although Artemisia gained considerable success in Florence, we know relatively little about her patrons there and a significant number of her works from this period of her activity remain untraced. She naturally sought the patronage of the ruling Medici and this may have begun as early as 1613, prompted by a letter of introduction the previous year from Orazio Gentileschi (1563–1639) to the dowager Grand Duchess of Tuscany, Christina of Lorraine (1565–1637), to whom he also sent a sample of his daughter’s work as a gift. It was probably Christina who introduced Artemisia to her son, Grand Duke Cosimo II de’ Medici (1590–1621), for whom she went on to paint Judith beheading Holofernes (Florence, Gallerie degli Uffizi), a Diana at Her Bath (untraced) and a painting of Hercules (probably never delivered or finished).

The circumstances surrounding the Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria’s creation and its original patron or owner are not known. A date of about 1615–17 is very likely, however, based on its affinity with two other works by Artemisia, both of which were painted in Florence around this time: Self Portrait as a Lute Player (Hartford, Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art) and Saint Catherine of Alexandria (Uffizi).²⁸ All three paintings share formal and stylistic characteristics and although scholars now generally accept that they all date from Artemisia’s Florentine period, opinions differ as to their exact dating and sequencing.

In the Self Portrait as a Lute Player (fig. 6) Artemisia assumes the role of a performer‐musician: she presents herself in half length, playing the lute, against a plain dark background. The composition is tightly cropped and the painting is almost square in format. She wears a luminous blue gown, painted in vivid ultramarine with gold filigree decoration, and has a sash tied around her waist. A striped cloth is wound around her head, its fabric trailing behind, and she wears a small gold‐hoop earring in her left ear. She adopts a similar pose to that in the National Gallery’s Self Portrait as Saint Catherine, with body facing left and head turning outwards so that she locks eyes with the viewer. The position of her head and shoulders is essentially the same and tracings taken from the two paintings indicate that Artemisia probably transposed elements of her design from one canvas to the other using a transfer method.²⁹ This ‘technical shortcut’ is something she learnt from her father in Rome, and it clearly became her own workshop practice. One need only compare her two versions of Judith beheading Holofernes in Naples (Museo e Real Bosco di Capodimonte) and Florence (Uffizi) to see how she must have used a cartoon or tracing of the former to create the latter, resulting in two compositionally related but aesthetically quite different works.³⁰ In the case of the two self portraits the transfer of the design was most likely done in parts: when superimposed, tracings of the two heads align perfectly, those of the shoulders do not, and vice versa, resulting in the neck being more elongated in the National Gallery painting (fig. 7 and fig. 8). Although the Hartford self portrait seems to have formed the basis for the figure in the National Gallery painting, the features in the latter are less individualised and somewhat idealised; the distinctive bump on the bridge of her nose has been flattened and her face appears less full, but Artemisia is still clearly recognisable. The Hartford lutenist’s sensuality has been replaced in the National Gallery picture with the modesty befitting of a saint: the daring neckline and earring have disappeared, and the lute player’s alluring gaze has been transformed into a look of purpose more suited to the figure of Saint Catherine.

Despite their compositions being closely related, Artemisia’s reuse of her design was anything but mechanical and the handling in the two works is noticeably different. This might be attributable in part to the intended recipient of each painting and the circumstances in which Artemisia created them. The Hartford self portrait may record a real‐life musical performance held in the Salone delle Commedie in the Medici palace in February 1615: the Ballo delle zingare (Dance of the Gypsies), with music composed by Francesca Caccini (1587–1640), had an all‐female cast and featured a ‘Sig.ra Artimisia’ dancing and singing alongside three other women (including Caccini herself), all of whom were dressed as gypsies.³¹ Further substantiating the theory that the Hartford Self Portrait as a Lute Player may have been destined for the Medici from the outset is the mention of ‘il ritratto dell’artimisia di sua mano che suona il liuto’ (‘portrait of Artemisia playing the lute by her own hand’) in a 1638 inventory of the Medici villa at Artimino.³²

The other painting with which the National Gallery self portrait is visibly connected is Saint Catherine of Alexandria in the Uffizi, Florence (fig. 9). Here too the figure of Saint Catherine is shown in half length against a plain dark background. Her bright red dress, decorated with a delicate gold‐thread design, is once again paired with a yellow shawl. However, the tones in the National Gallery picture are slightly more muted and pigment analysis has indicated that the red of her dress was from the outset painted in a darker, more crimson hue than that in the Uffizi painting.³³ The positioning of Catherine’s body is almost identical in both paintings, with left arm extended and right hand holding the martyr’s palm to her breast. The most notable difference is the orientation of the spiked wheel and Saint Catherine’s head, which in the Uffizi painting tilts upwards slightly, with her gaze turned towards heaven. Moreover, instead of a cloth she wears an elaborate pearl‐and‐gem‐encrusted crown upon her head: this may refer to the grand‐ducal crown designed by Jacques Bylivelt (1550–1603) for Ferdinand I de’ Medici (1549–1609), displayed on a table beside Christina of Lorraine in a portrait by Scipione Pulzone (1590; Uffizi).³⁴ Saint Catherine’s face is strongly characterised, suggesting that she is based on a real person, but her features do not resemble those of Artemisia in the Hartford or National Gallery self portraits.³⁵ She has variously been identified as Maria Maddalena of Austria and Caterina de’ Medici, Grand Duke Cosimo II’s wife and sister respectively.³⁶ In view of the saint being Caterina’s namesake, the latter seems more likely. Furthermore, the proliferation of representations of Saint Catherine in early seventeenth‐century Florence has been attributed to the presence of Caterina de’ Medici in the city before her move to Mantua in 1617, following her marriage to Ferdinando Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua and Monferrat.³⁷ The courtly elegance of the Uffizi portrait, in particular Catherine’s refined costume and splendid crown, point to the work in all likelihood originating with the Medici or with someone in their circle.

The evident similarities in the pose of Saint Catherine in both the Uffizi and National Gallery paintings suggest that Artemisia may once again have used a transfer method such as a tracing to transpose parts of her design from one canvas to another. Technical examination of the Uffizi Saint Catherine by the Opificio delle Pietre Dure in Florence in 2019 revealed an even greater connection with the National Gallery self portrait than simply the identical placement of Catherine’s arms and torso.³⁸ The X‐radiograph of the Uffizi painting showed an underlying composition of a turbaned figure almost identical to that in the National Gallery picture (fig. 10).³⁹ An overlay of the latter with the forms visible in the X‐radiograph of the Uffizi canvas shows that Artemisia must have traced the figure in order for their outlines to match so closely (fig. 11).⁴⁰ This is consonant with the current understanding of Artemisia’s working methods, and the fact that the Wadsworth Atheneum, National Gallery and Uffizi paintings are so intimately connected suggests that they were made in close, or even overlapping, sequence and were perhaps even in the studio simultaneously. The presence of alterations and revisions in all three paintings makes it difficult to establish their exact relationship. Nevertheless, it seems probable that Self Portrait as a Lute Player came first, as argued above, and there are indications that the positioning of the arms, hands and draperies in the other two canvases were first defined in the National Gallery painting.⁴¹ In the X‐radiograph of the Uffizi Saint Catherine the underlying turbaned figure appears highly developed and must therefore have undergone a radical change – in iconography as well as in the position and physiognomy of Catherine’s head – at an advanced stage in the painting process. Although the reason behind these modifications is not known, there are instances in which Artemisia reused canvases, painting over previous compositions, or changed her designs significantly during painting.⁴²

The Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria underwent a similar, though less radical, evolution. Evidence of its transformation was uncovered through technical investigations carried out at the National Gallery during the painting’s conservation treatment in 2018.⁴³ Small alterations were made to the figure as Artemisia worked (see Materials and Technique), and while the overall pose remained unchanged there are indications that the Self Portrait as Saint Catherine may initially have been conceived as an altogether different subject, with the artist assuming the guise of a classical figure, perhaps a sibyl. Although the headcloth is not necessarily incongruous for Saint Catherine, pointing as it does to her Egyptian origins, it resonates more strongly with representations of sibyls and is a recurring motif in Artemisia’s self portraits from around this time (see below).

Technical imaging also revealed an unexplained shape – perhaps a prophetic tablet or, more probably, a book – in the area where Catherine’s broken wheel would eventually be depicted (fig. 12 and fig. 3, above).⁴⁴ While the presence of such an attribute reinforces the hypothesis that the figure was initially intended to represent a sibyl, it is also possible that Artemisia had at first planned on introducing a tome as a symbol of Saint Catherine’s erudition. The inclusion of a book in Artemisia’s painting of a female martyr‐saint in Stockholm (Nationalmuseum) has been interpreted as a visual reference to the saint’s role as patron of education and learning, an argument used in favour of her identification as Saint Catherine.⁴⁵

Further indicating a shift in iconography in the National Gallery painting is the pearl‐topped crown sitting awkwardly atop Catherine’s headcloth, which was clearly a late addition. Once again, this detail is absent from the underlying figure in the Uffizi canvas, whose turban was instead painted over and replaced with the elaborate gem‐encrusted crown that is visible now. In both the National Gallery and Uffizi paintings the martyr’s palm was executed over the draperies and background, demonstrating that this element was added at a relatively late stage in the painting process.

It is not known whether the painting’s evolution from a self portrait as a figure wearing a turban to a representation of the artist as Saint Catherine was requested by a patron or instigated by Artemisia herself. Her Self Portrait as a Female Martyr (about 1613–14; private collection, USA), the earliest known likeness of Artemisia by her own hand and dating from shortly after her arrival in Florence, may have undergone a similar transformation (fig. 13).⁴⁶ Artemisia made some changes to the composition as she painted, with certain reworkings visible to the naked eye, and the martyr’s palm appears to have been a late addition, painted over the shawl and background, indicating that perhaps it was not part of her original design.⁴⁷ This signals, once again, a significant shift in the painting’s iconography: originally conceived as a self portrait with Artemisia wearing a cloth wound loosely around her head – a motif that recurs in both the Hartford and London paintings – the figure was only adapted to represent a saint once the painting was underway, possibly to satisfy a client’s request or to increase the painting’s saleability.⁴⁸ Not only do these modifications imply that there was a ready market for such images in Florence, but they also give us important insights into Artemisia’s creative process.

Artemisia Portraying Herself

The discovery and subsequent study of the Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria has significantly added to our understanding of how Artemisia used and adapted her own image in her paintings, particularly in Florence where she sought to establish her reputation.⁴⁹ Artemisia was fully aware of the exceptional appeal her self portraits held, given her singular position as a beautiful and talented woman painter, but it cannot be assumed that including her own likeness in her works was always her decision (as discussed below). If she was fulfilling the request of an existing or prospective patron, Artemisia shows herself capable of responding to market conditions. And it was especially during her early years of activity in Florence that a number of self portraits – both literal and ‘disguised’ – were created. The Medici owned another self portrait, recorded in the same 1638 inventory as the Hartford Self Portrait as a Lute Player but now untraced, in which Artemisia assumed the role of an Amazon warrior, wearing a helmet and wielding a sword and shield.⁵⁰

By portraying herself in different guises in her paintings Artemisia was able to disseminate her image through her art, a device famously adopted by Rembrandt (1606–1669), whose painted and engraved heads (in which he often used himself as a model) were instrumental in propagating his reputation and advertising his talents. In Florence in particular, self portraiture had already taken root as a genre in the Academy and artists had been known to insert themselves in their paintings in the form of ‘disguised’ self portraits.⁵¹ Cristofano Allori, with whom Artemisia was well acquainted (in 1615 he was named as godfather to her son), represented himself as the decapitated Holofernes in his celebrated painting of Judith and Holofernes (1613; Royal Collection). And by the latter half of the seventeenth century the renowned collection of artists’ self portraits amassed by Cardinal Leopoldo de’ Medici (1617–1675), today displayed in the Vasarian Corridor in the Uffizi, was famous across Europe. It is therefore within this Florentine context that Artemisia’s depiction of herself in different roles should be viewed. In addition to being a conscious act of self‐promotion on her part, there were practical considerations too: it was infinitely more convenient to have recourse to a mirror and be spared the expense of paying professional models to pose (a cost Artemisia was to complain of later in life).⁵²

Artemisia’s physical appearance is known from portraits of her dating from the 1620s and from contemporary accounts that bear witness to her captivating looks. In a letter of 1623 addressed to Francesco Maria Maringhi (1597–after 1655), Artemisia is described as ‘more beautiful than ever’ (‘bella più che mai’).⁵³ Years later, in a poem published in 1667 – more than a decade after Artemisia’s death – the Neapolitan Giovanni Canale (1603–1696) paid tribute to the painter for being ‘as famous as she is beautiful’ (‘Se quanto bella sei, tanto famosa’).⁵⁴ An engraving by Jérôme David (before 1600–after 1662) after a lost painted self portrait by Artemisia shows her physiognomy clearly: a rounded face framed by unkempt waves of loosely bound hair, bow lips, fleshy jowl, well‐defined eyebrows over heavy‐lidded eyes and a prominent hump on the bridge of her nose (fig. 14).⁵⁵ Her distinctive features are once again recognisable in two works dating from the mid‐1620s, in which her identification is incontrovertible: a bronze portrait medal that shows Artemisia in profile (New York, The Stephen K. and Janie Woo Scher Collection) and Simon Vouet’s bust‐length painted Portrait of Artemisia Gentileschi (Pisa, property of the Fondazione Pisa, exhibited at Palazzo Blu).⁵⁶ From these it can be deduced with certainty that it is Artemisia herself who assumes the role of the gypsy‐musician in Hartford’s Self Portrait as a Lute Player and, by extension, lends Saint Catherine her own features in the National Gallery’s Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria.

Over half of Artemisia’s known paintings have at some point been identified as self portraits or containing portraits of herself.⁵⁷ While there is no question that Artemisia’s personal identity was closely intertwined with her artistic production, and she does make frequent use of her own image, caution is needed in seeing the artist’s features in almost every heroine she portrayed and consequently in reading Artemisia’s paintings in purely autobiographical terms. To maintain that the painter identified with her subjects – an argument that has repeatedly been used in connection with Artemisia’s representations of Susanna and Judith – is improbable, given that the circumstances in which many of her paintings were produced are simply not known. As discussed above, the inclusion of her own features in the Self Portrait as Saint Catherine may have been circumstantial or at the request of a patron, rather than a conscious act of ‘self‐identification’.⁵⁸ It also seems rather far‐fetched to view Artemisia’s taking on the role of Saint Catherine as rooted in her own ordeal at the infamous trial that saw the painter Agostino Tassi (about 1580–1644) convicted of her rape, where she was herself subjected to torture during her testimony.⁵⁹ More reasonable is the argument that Artemisia was able to bring greater sensibility to the representation of Catherine precisely because she was a woman, or indeed the claim that ‘Catherine’s assertive resistance to authority made her an ideal subject for Artemisia’s repertoire’.⁶⁰ Known for her beauty and her modesty after staunchly refusing Emperor Maxentius’s advances, Saint Catherine would have been viewed as an ideal subject for Artemisia – or indeed any female artist – to paint. Some scholars have gone a step further, reading Artemisia’s representation of herself as Saint Catherine as symbolic, as if assuming the guise of the saint infers, by association, the latter’s ‘legendary courage, virtuosity and popularity’.⁶¹ Mary D. Garrard has noted that ‘Artemisia/Catherine commandingly touches the wheel, as if to change her own luck, and we might think of it as a wheel of fortune, studded with adversities she will overcome.’⁶² Even without this degree of self‐identification with her subject, by lending the saint her own features Artemisia imbues the figure of Saint Catherine with naturalism and a greater physicality. This is heightened by the tight compositional crop which has the effect of bringing the viewer up close to the picture plane, making it impossible to avoid Artemisia/Catherine’s gaze.

Provenance and Impact

Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria was unknown prior to its emergence on the Paris art market in 2017, when it was consigned to auction by a private individual in whose family’s possession the painting had been for several generations.

Following its acquisition by the National Gallery in 2018, it became the first painting by Artemisia Gentileschi to enter a British public collection and has been in the public eye ever since, quickly becoming one of the most recognisable paintings in the collection.

The Self Portrait as Saint Catherine instigated several ‘firsts’ at the National Gallery. Its five‐month conservation treatment was the subject of a series of fourteen short films broadcast in almost real time on social media (#NGArtemisia) and uploaded to the Gallery’s website and YouTube channel.⁶³ These culminated in the work going on public display at the National Gallery for the first time in December 2018.

The following spring the painting embarked on a pioneering nationwide tour called ‘Artemisia Visits’, the first of such tours in which a National Gallery painting is displayed at a series of unusual and unexpected locations throughout the United Kingdom. Between March and August 2019, Self Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria visited Glasgow Women’s Library, the only accredited museum in the UK dedicated to women’s lives, histories and achievements; Pocklington Group Practice, a doctor’s surgery in Yorkshire, to underline the importance of using art to support health and wellbeing; Sacred Heart Catholic High School in Newcastle upon Tyne, where Artemisia inspired practical art workshops and spurred discussions about female role models, in addition to an event being held for students with National Gallery staff offering insights into pursuing a career in the arts; HMP Prison Send in Surrey, the first prison to host an old master painting from the national collection, where an educator delivered workshops for up to thirty women prisoners; and Wood Street Library in Walthamstow, as part of the E17 Art Trail and Waltham Forest London Borough of Culture 2019 celebrations.

The acquisition of Self Portrait as Saint Catherine also provided the impetus for a monographic exhibition on Artemisia – the first devoted to the artist in the United Kingdom – which was held at the National Gallery in 2020. Postponed due to the global Covid‐19 pandemic, Artemisia opened to the public in October but was forced to close just six and a half weeks into its fourteen‐week scheduled run. As the country entered its third lockdown, the temporary closure of Artemisia gave rise to an enterprising solution: a virtual curator‐led tour of the exhibition, the first of its kind to be filmed at the National Gallery, was made available for purchase for a limited time only, ensuring that the exhibition could be enjoyed by a global audience. Despite such adverse circumstances, the exhibition generated considerable public and media attention, receiving five‐star reviews across the national press, fuelling interest in the painter Artemisia Gentileschi and granting her Self Portrait as Saint Catherine widespread global recognition.

Provenance

Believed to have been in the possession of the Boudeville family for several generations; by descent to Charles Marie Boudeville (died early 1940s), Châtenois, Vosges, France; by descent to his son, Georges Boudeville (1930–1984); by descent to his only son, Nicolas Boudeville (born 1966), Chevalier de l’Ordre du Mérite; by whom sold, Christophe Joron‐Derem, Hôtel Drouot, Paris, 19 December 2017, lot 69, where purchased by Marco Voena, Old and Modern Masters Ltd, and Fabrizio Moretti; purchased by the National Gallery, 2018.

Exhibitions

Glasgow, Newcastle upon Tyne, Pocklington, Ripley and Walthamstow 2019; London 2020–1 (11); Hartford and Detroit 2021–2 (25); Naples 2022–3 (1); Birmingham 2024.

Notes