Category: Sofonisba Anguissola

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A man’s world, and it needs fixing

"Christmas Still Life," 1916, by Gabriele MĂĽnter. If art prices were tied to achievement, Munter would be among the top-selling 20th century artists, instead of being remembered for being Kandinsky's mistress.

“Christmas Still Life,” 1916, by Gabriele MĂĽnter. If art prices were tied to competence, MĂĽnter would be among the top-selling 20th century artists, instead of being remembered as Kandinsky’s mistress.
There have always been women painters, but they never had the opportunity to enter either apprenticeships or academies—whichever were the great training systems of the time. The ones who rose above the lack of opportunity had advantages of birth (Sofonisba Anguissola and her sister Lucia) or fathers who were painters (Artemisia Gentileschi)
It has not been until the modern era that we have seen women artists rise in their own right. Even in the 20th century, many of them hitched their stars to men (Georgia O’Keeffe and Alfred Stieglitz), sometimes with disastrous personal results (Gabriele MĂĽnter and Wassily Kandinsky).
"Breakfast of the birds," 1934, by Gabriele MĂĽnter.

“Breakfast of the birds,” 1934, by Gabriele Münter.
ARTNews does an annual survey of inequality in the art markets and it’s very depressing. For the past two years, 92% of paintings that went through the big New York auction houses were by men; 8% were by women. If you think that’s terrible, that’s about the same ratio as is represented in MoMA.
There are idiots who still say that this is because men are better artists. What does that even mean? That women don’t paint like men? If that were true (and it isn’t) would it be a question of worth or of difference? It’s galling to see the Art Establishment, which sneers at traditional values, gleefully going on in their merry misogynistic way. But until women get wall space in galleries and museums, they’re not going to achieve the prices they deserve.
Cabin in the Snow at Kochel, 1909, by Gabriele MĂĽnter.

Cabin in the Snow at Kochel, 1909, by Gabriele MĂĽnter.
Last night, a reader sent me this short essay about power plays for women. I wish every woman artist would read it. The art market isn’t a meritocracy any more than the workplace is—probably less so, in fact, because art is so subjective.
Women are naĂŻve about power and influence, usually ascribing their failures to their own personal shortcomings rather than the culture. We project deference instead of confidence. We petition instead of negotiating.
As was true in medicine, engineering and law, we can’t wait around for the culture to change. Men are either players or benefitting from the status quo. Some women are fellow-travelers, just as they were in those other professions. I’m open to suggestions about ways to equalize the art field, readers. We need to use every tool in the arsenal to claim our rightful place in the marketplace.
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Three Ladies of Spain

Portrait of Elizabeth of Valois by Sofonisba Anguissola.
Elizabeth of Valois (1545 to 1568) was the eldest daughter of Henry II of France and Catherine de Medici. She was described as timid but close to her formidable mother.
Elisabeth was married by proxy to Phillip II of Spain at age 14, as part of the peace treaty that ended the Habsburg–Valois War. Phillip II was more than twice her age and already had been married twice.
The Departure of Elisabeth of France for Spain, after 1858 by Eugène Isabey, shows the young Elisabeth, dressed like a widow, swooning as she leaves for Spain. But this painting is perhaps less about Elizabeth’s reality than about 19th century European sword-rattling.
One can imagine how thrilled this young girl was to be handed off as war booty.  But it turns out that Phillip II wasn’t a bad husband.  He was apparently charmed by his bride and within a short period of time had given up his mistress. His sensitivity can be seen in his choices of ladies-in-waiting. These included the aristocrat Ana de Mendoza and the painter Sofonisba Anguissola.
Unattributed portrait of Ana de Mendoza, Princess of Éboli, showing her very rakish eye-patch.
Ana de Mendoza was distinguished by her intelligence and her eye-patch; legend says she lost her eye to an Ă©pĂ©e. She herself had been married at the age of 12 (but did not bear her husband children until she was eighteen). She lived in Elizabeth of Valois’ household until the young queen’s death in childbirth. 
Her later career gives some hint of her character. After bearing her husband ten children, she entered a convent upon his death. Three years later she returned to public life, getting herself involved in treason. She died after thirteen years of imprisonment.
Unlike many women painters, Sofonisba Anguissola was not the daughter of an artist; in fact, she was from a noble family. Her father encouraged his daughters to cultivate their talents. Four of them became painters and one a writer. At age twenty-two (and unmarried) Anguissola went to Rome, where she met Michelangelo, with whom she studied informally for several years.  
Self-portrait at the easel, 1556, by Sofonisba Anguissola.
By age 26, Anguissola was established as a painter. In Milan, she painted the Duke of Alba, who in turn recommended her to Philip II. He invited her to join the Spanish Court.
Elizabeth of Valois was herself an interested amateur portraiturist, and part of Anguissola’s remit was to teach her painting. After Elizabeth’s death, Phillip II paid Anguissola a dowry of twelve thousand pounds upon her marriage to Don Francisco de Moncada. The couple settled in Palermo, where Don Francisco died in 1579.
Portrait of Massimiliano Stampa, 1557, by Sofonisba Anguissola.
At the age of forty-seven, Anguissola met and married the considerably younger captain of the ship on which she was traveling (Orazio Lomellino). Her amassed fortune allowed her to paint, teach, and mentor other artists through her long and exceptional life.

Let me know if you’re interested in painting with me in Maine in 2014 or Rochester at any time. Click here for more information on my Maine workshops!