Women artists in all ages and countries

The sixteenth century, rich beyond precedent in great men, was not poor in female artists whose works are worthy of notice. Both in poetry and painting the period was memorable and glorious. The labors of the preceding age had promoted civilization and education in moral and mental acquirements, the fruits of which were discernible even in Germany, while in Italy the harvest was most abundant. The period produced Victoria Colonna, Veronica Gambara, Gaspara Stampa, and other women of literary eminence; while the works in art of Michael Angelo, Raphael, Leonardo da Vinci, Titian, etc., became monuments for the admiration of succeeding generations. Dr. Guhl aptly remarks, “The fifteenth century was the time of work; the sixteenth the season of harvest.”

None of the numerous schools of Italian art were without female disciples. The Bolognese rose above all others, and at this period gave laws to art. Here we find

PROPERZIA, THE SCULPTRESS.

The first woman who gained reputation as a sculptor in Italy was Properzia di Rossi. She was born in Bologna in 1490, and possessed not only remarkable beauty of person, with all the graces a finished education could graft upon a refined nature, but various feminine accomplishments, excelling particularly, Vasari tells us, in her orderly disposal of household matters. She sang and played on several instruments “better than any woman of her day in Bologna,” while in many scientific studies she gained a distinction “well calculated,” says the Italian historian, “to awaken the envy not of women only, but also of men.” This maiden of rich gifts was endowed with a peculiar facility in realizing the creations of fancy, and took at first a strange way of doing so. She undertook the minute carving of peach-stones, and succeeded so well as to render credible what had been recorded of two sculptors of antiquity. Mirmecide is said to have carved a chariot drawn by four horses, with the charioteer, so small that a fly with his wings spread covered the whole. Callicrate sculptured ants with the minutest exactness. Properzia carved on a peach-stone the crucifixion of our Saviour; a work comprising a number of figures—executioners, disciples, women, and soldiers—wonderful for the delicate execution of the minutest figures, and the admirable distribution of all. A series of her intaglios is in the possession of Count Grassi of Bologna. In a double-headed eagle, in silver filagree (the Grassi coat of arms), are imbedded eleven peach-stones, and on each is carved, on one side, one of the eleven apostles, each with an article of the creed underneath; on the other, eleven holy virgins with the name of the saint on each, and a motto explanatory of her special virtue. In the cabinet of gems in the gallery of Florence is preserved a cherry-stone on which is carved a chorus of saints in which seventy heads may be counted.

It was not long before Properzia began to think, with those who witnessed her success, that it was a pity to throw away so much labor on a nut! At that time the façade of San Petronio, in Bologna, was being ornamented with sculpture and bas-relief. The young girl had studied drawing under Antonio Raimondi, and when the three doors of the principal façade were to be decorated with marble figures she made application to the superintendents for a share in the works. She was required to furnish a specimen of her talent. The young sculptress executed a bust from life, in the finest marble, of Count Alessandro de’ Pepoli; this pleased the family and the whole city, and procured immediate orders from the superintendents.

The one of her productions which has become most celebrated is a bas-relief, in white marble, of Potiphar’s wife seeking to detain Joseph by holding his garment. The perfection of the drawing, the grace of the action, and the emotion that breathes from the whole face and form, obtained high praise for this performance. Vasari calls it “a lovely picture, sculptured with womanly grace, and more than admirable.” But envy took occasion to make this monument of Properzia’s genius a reproach to her memory. It was reported that she was profoundly in love with a young nobleman, Anton Galeazzo Malvasia, who cared little for her; and that she depicted her own unhappy passion in the beautiful creation of her chisel. It was probably true that her life was imbittered by this unreturned love. One of her countrymen says the proud patrician disdained to own as his wife one who bore a less ancient name; and that he failed in his attempt to persuade her to become his on less honorable terms. Professional jealousy aided in the attempt to depress the pining artist. Amico Albertini, with several men artists, commenced a crusade against her, and slandered her to the superintendents with such effect that the wardens refused to pay the proper price for her labors on the façade. Even her alto-relief was not allowed to have its appointed place. Properzia had no heart to contend against this unmanly persecution; she never attempted any other work for the building, and the grief to which she was abandoned gradually sapped the springs of life.

There are two angels in bas-relief, exquisitely sculptured by her, in the church of San Petronio; and another work by her hand, representing the Queen of Sheba in the presence of Solomon, is preserved in what is called “the revered chamber.” Other works of hers have been pronounced to be in the highest taste. She is said to have furnished some admirable plans in architecture. In copper-plate engraving she succeeded to admiration, and many of her pen-and-ink etchings from Raphael’s works obtained the highest praise. “With this poor loving girl,” Vasari says, “every thing succeeded save her unhappy passion.”

The fame of her noble genius spread throughout Italy; and Pope Clement VII., having come to Bologna to officiate at the coronation of the Emperor Charles V., inquired for the fair sculptress of whom he had heard such marvelous things. Alas! she had died that very week—on the 14th of February, 1530—and her remains had been buried, according to her last request, in the Hospital della Morte. She was lamented by her fellow-citizens, who held her to have been one of the greatest miracles of nature. But what availed posthumous praises to the victim of injustice and calumny?

A story has been told of an interview between Properzia and the Pope; that, declining his offer to settle her in Rome, she knelt to take leave, when her veil falling disclosed a face of unearthly beauty, sad enough to move the pontiff’s sympathy. But it is more probable that she died before his coming.

SISTER PLAUTILLA AND OTHERS.

Isabella Mazzoni was also known at this period as a sculptor. We hear, too, of Maria Calavrese, who painted in fresco; and Plautilla Nelli—Suor Plautilla, as she is usually called—deserves more than a passing mention. Lanzi tells us she was of a noble Florentine family, and born in 1523. She had no assistance in developing her remarkable talent but her study of the designs of Fra Bartolomeo, one of the best masters of the Florentine school. She became a nun of the Dominican convent of St. Catherine of Sienna in Florence, and having acquired considerable reputation by her skill in painting, finished for the church a Descent from the Cross, said to be from a design by Andrea del Sarto; and a picture of her own composition, the Adoration of the Magi—a work that won great praise. In the first may be noticed the same purity of contour, the same harmony of light and shade, grace of drapery, and confident repose that characterize the works of Andrea. In the choir of the Convent of Santa Lucia, at Pistoja, was her large picture of the Madonna holding the child, surrounded by saints; and in the convent at Florence a large painting of the Last Supper. We do not attempt to enumerate the works credited to her, including her copies of the best masters, particularly Fra Bartolomeo, whom it was not easy to imitate, since he was superior to Raphael in color, and rivaled Vinci in chiaro-oscuro. Some pictures in Berlin, attributed to her, are marked by his purity and careful execution, with his depth and earnestness. She was also a miniature painter. She was prioress of the convent, and lived to the age of sixty-five. One of her successful pupils was Agatha Traballesi.

There were no noted women painters of the Roman school, but we may mention Teodora Danti, who painted several pictures of interiors after the style of Perugino. The heads of her figures were remarkable for grace, and she had much ease of action and freshness of coloring, but there was a certain dryness in the forms and poverty in the drapery.

The wife of the famous engraver, Mare Antonio Raimondi, also engraved on copper; and Diana Ghisi copied in her engravings works both of Raphael and Giulio Romano. Vasari says of her: “She engraves so admirably, the thing is a perfect miracle. For my own part, who have seen herself—and a very pleasing and graceful maiden she is—as well as her works, which are most exquisite, I have been utterly astonished thereby.”

IRENE DI SPILIMBERG.

A bright example, and the pride of the Venetian school in her day, was Irene di Spilimberg, born at Udina in 1540, of a noble and illustrious family, originally of German origin. She exercised her art at its most flourishing period. She was educated in Venice, surrounded by all the luxury of external and intellectual life, and she had Titian for her master. Her fame, however, rests rather on the testimony of her contemporaries than on her own works. Titian, ever alive to female loveliness and artistic merit, has immortalized her by a beautiful portrait; and Tasso has celebrated her charms in one of his sonnets. She died in the opening of her blossom of fame, in the flush of youth and beauty, having scarcely attained the age of nineteen. Her death was deplored in poems and orations, a collection of which was published in Venice twenty years after the event, to set forth the splendid promise which the destroyer had thus untimely nipped.

Among her works still extant are the Bacchanals in Monte Albedo, and small pictures from religious subjects said to be in the possession of the Maniago family. Lanzi remarks: “The drawing is careless, but the coloring is worthy of the best age of art. We see the reflected rays of her great master’s glory, the soft yet rapid gradations of tint, the clear touches, the repeated applications of color, which give a veiled transparency to the tints; the judicious grouping, the combined majesty and grace in the figures, which constitute some of the merits of Titian.” Irene is said to have been a woman of the highest mental culture. Rudolphi includes her among the few women artists he mentions.

The sixteenth century was not only remarkable for the production of talent, but for its recognition. Another artist belonging to the Venetian school was Vincenza Armani, who was accomplished in engraving and modeling in wax, and was also celebrated as a poet and musician.

MARIETTA TINTORETTO.

Marietta Robusti, the daughter and pupil of the great painter Tintoretto—him who was called “the thunder of art,” and excelled in the powerful and terrible—was born in 1560. She had a lively disposition and great enthusiasm; she was very beautiful in person, had a fine voice, and was an accomplished performer on the lute and other instruments. It is no wonder that she was the object of her father’s pride and affections. She accompanied him every where, dressed as a boy; and he developed her genius for art less by precept than by the living example of his own labor. His pictures nourished and fertilized her imagination, and, step by step, she followed him faithfully. Whether he labored at his models or studied the antique statues, or casts from Michael Angelo, the coloring of Titian or the nude figure, she was by his side. She noted his first sketch in the feverish moment of creation, and watched the progress of its execution. His marvelous freedom in handling the brush, his strength and precision in drawing and richness of coloring became hers. She learned his secret of giving proportion and unity to many figures, and the difficult art of foreshortening; then, after copying his pictures, she could say, “I, too, am an artist.” She chose the kind of painting suited to her sex. Historical pieces demanded too much study and application, and it was wearying to design nude figures in imitation of the antique. Portrait painting was easier, and promised more immediate results.

Her first portrait was that of Marco dei Vescovi. It was greatly admired, particularly the beard, and some ventured to say she had equaled her father. Ere long she became famous, and it was all the rage among the Venetian aristocracy to be painted by Marietta. Her father was in raptures at her astonishing progress and success.

Jacopo Strada, antiquarian to the Emperor Maximilian, had his portrait taken by her, and gave it as a curiosity to his imperial master. This, and one she painted of herself, gained her a great reputation. The emperor placed them in his chamber, and invited her to be the artist of his court. The same proposition was made to her by Philip II. of Spain and the Archduke Ferdinand. She was a dutiful daughter and obeyed the wishes of Tintoretto, who refused to part with her, even that she might grace a court. To secure her against the acceptance of such alluring offers, he bestowed her hand on Mario Augusti, a wealthy German jeweler, on the condition that she should remain under the paternal roof. She completed several original designs and painted many portraits. Her exquisite taste, her soft and gentle touch, and her skill in coloring were remarkable, both in works of her own invention and those due to her father’s genius.

Tintoretto was not destined long to rejoice in the progress of his lovely daughter. In the flower of her age, in 1590, she departed this life, leaving her husband and father mourners for the rest of their days. She was buried in the church of Santa Maria dell’ Orto. Another artist made a picture of Tintoretto transferring to the canvas the features of his child, still beautiful in death. Several of her works are in Venice. One, at the Palais Royale, represents a man in black, sitting, his hand on an open book lying on a table, where is also an escritoir with papers, a watch, and crucifix.

Decampes has published an engraving of Marietta’s portrait. The expression is very soft and meek; a braid of hair encircles the top of her head, and a rouleau is put back from the forehead. A handkerchief is crossed on the bosom, and around her neck is a string of large beads.

Some fair artists of the schools of northern Italy deserve mention. Vasari speaks of Barbara, daughter of the painter Lucas Longhi, of Ravenna, as possessing great talent. In Genoa, Tommasa Fiesca was known as a painter and engraver, as well as a writer of mystical tracts. She and her sister Helen were Dominican nuns, and died in 1534.