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I'm in a city which, in its heyday, was the most active
cultural and commercial centre in the Mediterranean.
And one of the most volatile.
During the 17th century, before the unification of Italy,
Naples was part of the Spanish empire.
It was three times the size of Rome
with a population that had tripled over the century
due to an influx of immigrants looking for work.
One of these immigrants was an extraordinary painter who came here,
like many others, to chase lucrative commissions.
This is the Museo di Capodimonte in Naples.
Originally built as a hunting lodge for the Spanish nobility,
it now houses one of the finest art collections in Italy.
'Nestling among these official masterpieces
'is a breathtaking painting not even mentioned in the museum's highlights,
'even though it was created by someone quite exceptional
'in the history of art.'
This is one of the most arresting paintings I've ever seen.
It's a moment of traumatic violence captured with almost forensic
intensity in the detail here.
What is happening is that a woman is cutting a man's head off,
and she's putting an enormous amount of effort into it,
and yet she's doing it with a certain amount of disdain,
as though she's just getting on with a job she has to do.
What is really frightening about it, and it's appallingly strong,
is that the man is still just alive.
Despite the fact the sword is stuck into his neck, his arm has
shot up there, the fist is being held by the accomplice of the woman.
You can see his mouth,
which is almost just crying out his last breath.
But she is quietly and efficiently doing the business.
What's so extraordinary about this huge and violent painting
is that it was painted by a woman.
Her name was Artemisia Gentileschi.
A brilliant and mercurial painter.
A charismatic trickster.
A gifted businesswoman.
A caring mother with a turbulent love life.
And a modern woman in a patriarchal worid.
She's been sidelined for centuries.
Now she's emerging from the shadows
as one of the most exciting Baroque artists.
Despite much of her work being lost or missing,
and many details of her extraordinary story forgotten,
there remain new and surprising discoveries to be made.
16th-century Rome, where Artemisia was born over 400 years ago,
was dominated by the Vatican,
using art and architecture to dazzle its citizens
with the power of the Catholic Church.
The daughter of Orazio Gentileschi,
one of Rome's many struggling painters, Artemisia lived with
her family in the notorious artists' quarter of the city.
Would this have been teeming with people in Artemisia's day?
Absolutely, absolutely.
Even more so because this was the northern door to Rome,
because that was the place to be at the time.
- There was such a demand, yes. - Yes.
'French novelist Alexandra Lapierre fell under Artemisia's spell
'when she came to Rome on a research trip.
'What she unearthed so intrigued her, she moved here to find out more.'
Another fine church, and there are the Caravaggios in there.
- Yes, it's right there. - Yeah.
'Entries in the records of this church, Santa Maria del Popolo,
'suggest it was the local place of worship for Orazio Gentileschi
'and his wife, Prudentia.'
What was the significance of this church in Artemisia's life?
Oh, it has a very big significance
because it is where her mother was buried
when she was 12.
- How did her mother die? - Childbirth.
Many women died in childbirth in the 17th century.
And Orazio, who loved his wife dearly,
had ordered a true big service.
He had made sure that his wife, Prudentia, could get the best of it.
So he ordered the burial to be by the chapel
that was the most visible at the time, which was the Cerasi Chapel.
There would be singing, there would be candles.
Candles were very precious.
In the floor here you will see rosace which have holes
and you would have poles that would open the whole floor,
the marble floor of the church and you would bring down the corpse.
'Prudentia's sudden death would change Artemisia's life for ever.
'At the age of 12, she became surrogate mother to her
'three younger brothers as well as assisting her father in his studio.
'Orazio Gentileschi was a friend and follower of Caravaggio whose
'formidable paintings loomed over his beloved wife's resting place.'
The Caravaggios which she would have seen,
- probably even during the funeral, but every time she came here. - Yes.
I mean, they must have had quite an effect on her,
- do you think, as an artist? - Oh, yes. They are very strong.
Caravaggio's revolution has changed the whole of Orazio's visi�n.
Caravaggio is painting people from the street...
- And that's a complete change, really. - Complete change.
The idea is that the people looking at it, at the painting,
can recognise themselves in the drama which is being played...
- That's the powerful thing. - Humanity is holding the whole frame.
It must have been absolutely... I can imagine for a young girl
- or young child looking up at that and thinking, wow! - Absolutely.
But as a result it has changed the whole visi�n
of the art worid at the time.
That was really a lot for her to absorb.
And to find a way, because without a woman to direct her, without
a mother to direct her, she's the only woman among a man's worid.
Let's go and have a closer look, shall we?
'Caravaggio and his followers drew on Rome's dark underbelly
'to inspire their cutting-edge style.'
By night, the city transformed itself into a den of vice and crime
which thrived in backstreet taverns and behind closed palazzo doors.
This...
..was the residence of Beatrice Cenci.
Inside this house, her wicked, and horrible and terrible father,
Francesco, abused her.
So the legend goes, nobody listened to her pleas
when she was asking for help.
But, please, follow me and don't be afraid.
You're going to be safe with me! I hope...
Please, come with me.
'Artemisia grew up in a patriarchal culture where women
'were the property of men.
'Seen as either virtuous or sinful,
'loss of virginity outside marriage could mean joining the swelling ranks
'of prostitutes who haunted Rome's dark alleyways.
'Along with the restless ghosts of its violent past.'
Who was the wicked girl who had killed her father?
All the people of Rome went in the streets in this area
ready to go to the river where her head would be...
..chopped off!
Terrific! Thought that would happen. I thought that would happen.
Please follow me to the river to see the place.
One of these ghosts is that of poor Beatrice Cenci,
whose execution the young Artemisia almost certainly witnessed.
Public decapitations, brutal and bloody,
would have been part of daily life in Seicento Rome.
Her head was cut off with a sword.
And all the blood went into the Tiber,
dyeing it the colour red.
Artemisia's father, Orazio,
all too well aware of the dangers for his only daughter,
confined her to his studio, where she began to produce work of her own.
Artemisia used the time to develop her talent,
but always under her father's guiding hand.
Some of their work is on display here at the Spada Gallery in Rome.
Here they are, side by side, the two Gentileschis -
Orazio the father, Artemisia the daughter.
It's just interesting to compare and contrast the two.
This a painting I love, it's a beautiful delicate painting.
This is by Artemisia, Madonna and Child,
and she was a teenager when she painted this.
Yet there's something about the delicacy with which the baby's hand,
which is beautifully drawn, just touches the throat,
extraordinary gentle gesture,
and the eyes looking at the closed eyes of the Madonna.
On the other side, a more classical picture by Orazio.
It's David and Goliath.
And it feels like a much bigger picture,
the figure's very strong in frame.
You can see similarities, the flesh tones, the angle of the body,
you can see a strength in that painting and perhaps a delicacy,
but also a substance in this one here.
What you can also see, actually, is to be able to paint
and model drapery like that, it's very, very impressive indeed.
Her father, a much more well-known painter at the time, a male,
painting in the classical idiom.
You can see down in the corner there the head of Goliath
being zonked by the stone from the catapult.
It's almost a sort of Gentileschi trademark,
the head somewhere in the painting.
But altogether a big, strong picture, and this picture,
strong because of its delicacy.
Both Artemisia's Madonna and this other striking painting of hers
in the collection have, until recently,
been wrongly attributed to male artists, or to her father.
The paintings of Artemisia's I've seen today have been a revelation.
Of course, the fact that such accomplished work could be created
by someone so young has inevitably raised a few questions.
Her father was a painter. What was his work? What was her work?
Where's the real Artemisia?
It's like this wonderful piece of visual trickery
by Baroque architect Francesco Borromini.
This arcade is actually only eight metres long.
The statue is only 70cm high.
It was indeed a worid of riddles and illusions.
The Susanna is her first really known work.
It's signed with her name, Artemisia Gentileschi, 1610.
Lots of scholars have argued
Orazio really painted it, he just put his daughter's name on it
to launch her career. And I don't think that's really true.
I think he may have helped her with the finishing of the picture,
the passages here and there, because his style is very difficult
to distinguish from hers at that point.
But the concept of that Susanna is radically new.
Most of the Susannas of that period, all of them
that I know by male artists, were almost betrayals of the story.
Susanna in the garden is bathing and these elders thunder in
and they're going to rape her, have their way with her.
In most of the pictures you see, she's looking seductively at them.
"Oh, you're coming to rape me? OK, fine."
But this is the first one where she's saying, no. No.
Her face is rather horrified and shocked.
This is the first time anybody ever painted
that subject from Susanna's point of view.
We never saw what women felt like in that situation in art before.
For me, that's a radical step in art history.
It was also a case of art imitating life.
Like Susanna, Artemisia was being watched.
One man with his eye on her was Agostino Tassi, a widower in his 30s.
He was a highly sought-after painter specialising in
trompe-l'oeil illusi�n, which was all the rage at the time.
This dusty track in the built-up centre of Rome was once
a shaded walkway through the ancient gardens of Sallust,
fabled for their beauty and tranquillity.
For the last 400 years, it's been the site of the Villa Aurora.
Caravaggio, Henry James, Woody Allen and Madonna
all came to the villa, in part to see the work of Agostino Tassi.
- Greetings. - Principessa. - How are you? - How nice to meet you.
What a thrill to meet you. Please call me Rita.
Rita, I'm interested in this man, Agostino Tassi.
- You've got some of his work here. - We do. - Can you show them to me?
Because I'm really anxious to know what this man was like.
Which is Tassi's work here then? The ceiling?
On the ceiling, this is considered Guercino's masterpiece.
They mythical goddess Aurora bringing dawn into the night.
- The prince of Troy is behind her. - The central part.
That is a secco, painted on dry paint.
Now the frame, which is really a spectacular part
of the painting as well, is by Agostino Tassi.
And he really was an illusionist.
As you can see, his part, the frame has movement. It actually moves -
as you move across the room, the columns move with you
and they straighten and then they curve in.
Is it supposed to be a continuation of the house, the walls of the house?
Of course it is. It is a continuation of the house.
And also there's something very interesting here.
- You see how you see the breakthrough in the ceiling? - Oh, yes.
This caused a hue and an outcry in Rome
- and they wanted this painted over. - Why?
The first time people were walking into the room and they were
hanging onto the sides of the walls, and they said, we feel threatened,
the sky feels like it's coming down on us.
It lifts you up, and also it is slightly scary.
It does, it is a little scary even today.
- We have a fresco upstairs, La Fama. - OK. Can I see that? - Yes, absolutely.
- OK, thank you. - Please follow me. - If you're not too busy!
'Tassi may have been a magician with oil,
'but in his private life he was a skilful trickster.
'A known womaniser, Tassi's drunken brag was
'he arranged the murder of his first wife as revenge for her infidelity.'
We're in the process of restoring the house,
so if it looks a bit weathered...
that's why. But it's a labour of love.
We feel a tremendous responsibility to future generations.
There's a lot of beautiful work here.
- This is, gosh, that's Tassi again. - That's La Fama.
Again, Tassi framed one of Guercino's...
These curved barley-corn columns are his work.
Yes, these are the Columns of Solomon.
You'll see those at St Peter's.
And then as you go around, the gold is 24-carat gold,
with which they paint.
- There is a different scene in each one of these alcoves. - Yeah.
- This is quite subtle work. - Beautiful work.
And so modern for his time.
He was really thinking outside of the box, in a sense.
- And he was brilliant, and his work exquisite. - Thank you.
It's been absolutely eye-opening to see his work.
- He was quite brilliant, I think. - He was bit of a...
- He was a naughty boy... - A naughty man. - He was naughty.
It just adds to the sort of levels and the mystery of the story, really,
that he could do such beautiful work and be pretty brutish.
Exactly.
A rising star, Agostino Tassi started painting for the Pope
alongside his friend, Artemisia's father, Orazio.
He became almost one of the family.
Careful to hide away his teenage daughter from the corruption
of the city, Orazio organised for her private art lessons
with his friend, Agostino Tassi.
What happened next is recorded forever in history,
although the exact facts are still hard to determine.
Artemisia claims that one spring afternoon in 1611,
Tassi accosted her in her father's studio, followed her upstairs,
and despite her pleas to be left alone,
pushed her into the bedroom and raped her.
To calm the enraged Artemisia, and in attempt to make good
his violent act, Tassi promptly promised to marry her.
With her precious virginity no longer intact,
and determined to keep the rape secret from her father,
Artemisia had no choice but to accept Tassi's offer.
It is a total disaster for the whole family.
But nobody knows but Artemisia.
And so when Tassi comes back...
..and abuses her again, now there is no other way than to obey.
It's her man, in that sense.
And so it's going to go on like this for a few months
where he says, "It's OK, it's all right.
"I am straightening things up."
But then one day, Orazio will find out.
And what he will find out, it's going to incense him
and drive him crazy.
- So this is all really difficult for everyone all round. - I would think so.
So, Orazio reacts without really thinking,
by taking his pledge to the Pope.
So he writes to the Pope, not about his daughter's feelings or...
No, about the fact that his goods, that is, Orazio's goods,
has been destroyed, has been ruined,
and so he asks reparation of something that has been done to him.
She's never considered as a human being.
In 1612, Orazio, to clear the family name,
instigated legal proceedings against Tassi.
It would go down as one of Rome's longest recorded rape trials.
Here in Rome's state archive,
a unique piece of evidence has recently been restored.
It's around 300 pages long and it could be the closest
I can get to finding out what really happened between Artemisia and Tassi.
Faithfully recorded by a court notary, the transcripts include,
in Artemisia's own words,
a remarkably detailed description of the rape.
So, very, very, very detailed...
of a very violent rape.
I couldn't understand it all, but scratching the face
and pulling the hair.
Yes. And she described the sexual relation here.
Very violent.
- Very, very specifically written down. - Yeah.
With Roman justice at the time, there was no jury to decide.
It was left to the judge, who used Inquisitional techniques
before proclaiming the final verdict in the name of God.
In the justice of the 17th century, this is a rape.
This is a rape because there was not a marriage there.
And there was a relationship, sexual relationships,
between a man and a virgin woman.
And this is a rape for the law.
What was Tassi's response?
- Do you have that down there in the trial? - Yes.
Tassi says, he knows Artemisia
but he had never had sexual relations with her.
And many witnesses could confirm that.
This is a drawing by Tassi.
I was guilty of my bad situation.
- Oh, well. Why did he do that? - To put in front of the judge.
Sounds like an admissi�n of guilt.
Yes, but I think - "I'm guilty, I'm a good man,
"I think about my, erm..."
"About my violence.
"Yes, I can, I can, I can think about it."
But I didn't do the rape.
'To add to the complication, we find elsewhere in the record
'Artemisia's statement that she slept with Tassi
'for almost a year before the trial,
'believing that they would soon be married.'
What's her attitude to him?
She says that, "I was with him willingly."
In Italian she says "amore volmente," with love.
In Italian, the worid "love" is very important.
Love is "I trust".
- "I want to be with you." - So it's very profound.
And she used it so we have to recognise it.
It's hard for anyone today
to understand Artemisia's true feelings for Tassi.
On the one hand, he was her abuser, but on the other,
marriage to him would clear her name.
Then sensational news reaches the court.
Despite Tassi's claims to the contrary, his wife is still alive.
With marriage no longer an option,
Artemisia's "amore" quickly turns to hate,
perhaps reflected in the powerful work
that she was painting at the time.
In one sense it is a kind of response.
That way of depicting the subject so dramatically and graphically
is kind of getting back at Agostino Tassi in a public way.
But this was a period when that was just understood.
Why shouldn't she get revenge? She'd been wronged.
That wasn't all there was about that painting.
She's the first woman,
the first artist perhaps to have expressed in art
what it feels like to be a woman victimised,
and a woman who fantasises revenge for that victimisation.
- This is expressi�n on a grand scale. - Yeah.
So to try to make it just about her one life...
It's made up of her life in so many ways, but it goes further than that.
The trial had reached its tenth month.
With both sides still proclaiming their innocence,
the judge had one final method left to obtain the truth.
In this case, he decides that Artemisia will be tortured.
Yeah, he decides for the victim. We don't know why.
I have my own opinion about it,
because Agostino Tassi was painting for the Pope in that period
and it was very dangerous for the judge
to destroy the hands of a painter of the Pope.
And the judge decided for her the torture of the sibille.
- How does that work? - For her hands. - Yes.
And it was very dangerous because she was a painter
so it was dramatic.
This is a piece of a rope.
- Oh, you have one there. - It's only light...
- So the hand goes out. - A light kind of sibille, this.
So it goes round each joint. Oops.
- This is very, very light. - Thank you! I appreciate that!
Right.
All four together, over the joints. And them...
And then so. OK.
I can see. It stops the blood, but that's quite gentle.
Was there...? What was the severe...?
- What was the severe form? - Only for women.
- Only for women. - OK.
And there is a stronger way for women, too, and the drawing is that.
- This is a drawing from the end of the 16th century. - Yeah.
This is iron and this is wood.
So that's using, instead of rope, that's iron and wood,
which could really break your fingers.
Only for women, because for men the torture was stronger.
By 17th-century standards,
it was certainly preferable to other common options
such as piercing, crushing,
amputation, starvation or hanging.
So, finally, after all this evidence, the torture,
was there a conclusi�n?
Yes, there was a conclusi�n.
Because Artemisia under torture said that she was raped,
so that was the truth for the judge
and the judge will decide in this way, so Agostino Tassi is guilty.
Against all odds, the Gentileschi had won.
But as the shocking news of the trial outcome reverberated
through the streets of Rome, victory would be short-lived.
Agostino Tassi's punishment was mild -
a five-year exile from Rome.
A sentence he never served.
Whilst for Artemisia, the supposed victor, it was another story.
She's dishonoured for ever.
Everybody's laughing when she walks in the street.
She is the woman that Agostino Tassi has had.
She's completely finished as far as reputation is concerned
and the whole family Gentileschi is stained forever.
So, in a way, it's obviously fantastic because it's proved
she's saying the truth, but the result is that she is a lost woman.
So what was Artemisia to do then?
No other choice - the convent, or marriage.
It was here.
Let's have a look in.
'Armed with a hefty dowry, and the promise of her lucrative potential
'as a painter, Orazio finally found a buyer for his daughter.'
'On November 29th, 1612,
'Artemisia was married here in Santo Spirito
'to a Florentine - Pierantonio Stiattesi.'
- Tell me about her husband. Did she know him? - No.
She had met him in the afternoon for the first time.
The man was coming from Florence for the wedding.
He was the younger brother of the lawyer
that had helped her father in the case.
But she has never seen him,
and the luck, that he's young, and rather handsome,
and rather kind and not an old man
who they pulled out from God knows where.
So she's rather surprised because the man she's marrying seems OK.
She's married here at night with all the doors closed.
The Gentileschi fear that at any moment
the friends of Agostino Tassi, and Tassi himself, who knows,
could come here and just break the neck of Artemisia
and also of her husband-to-be.
So the wedding is completely secret.
Do we know who married them? A priest? A friend?
No, it was the priest of the parish.
He himself was very nervous because it's completely against the law
to close the door of a church during a wedding.
You have to have all the doors open so anybody who would say
the person is already married could come in.
So where in the church did they get married? The altar or...?
They did not get married in front of the main altar but they got
married in a very small chapel, which is on the side, with no-one.
Artemisia did not have a woman with her.
Usually, when you are the bride you have people...
- A maidservant or somebody? - Yes.
No-one, just the future wife, the future husband, the father
and two witnesses.
Strangely enough, at the beginning, it would be a true couple.
It would be an association, a business association,
because he takes care of dealing with the contracts and everything,
and she paints and begins painting.
So here, her career really begins.
If Rome was Artemisia's undoing,
then Florence was to be the making of her.
Assisted by letters of introduction from her father,
Artemisia arrived here in Florence not long after her marriage.
This was a second chance for her.
An opportunity for her to shake off the stigma of the rape trial and
rise again as a professional painter, but this time on her own terms.
That is, so long as she stayed out of trouble.
17th-century Florence was a wealthy city of merchants
and warlords dominated by the Medici,
a dynasty of bankers in the last throes of their reign.
For the newly arrived Artemisia, illiterate and with a chequered past,
finding the crucial patron she would need would not be easy.
By Artemisia struck lucky. Her first break came from none other than
Michelangelo Buonarroti The Younger,
the great-nephew of Michelangelo.
Artemisia, both as a woman artist and an expert on the female nude,
was to be the perfect choice for his new project.
Atermisia's panel was called The Allegory of Inclination.
That is to say, the female personification
of a particular quality of the artist Michelangelo.
And so, the inclination means he was destined to be a great artist
by virtue of his birth.
Did she come to Florence with a different attitude, having left Rome?
Was this something new for her?
You might say she thought she had that inclination, you know.
She too was someone destined to be...
She was fiercely ambitious, fiercely ambitious.
This is the most important thing about her, I think.
And not just to succeed,
not to be somebody who got great commissions
and was known around Europe -
that was true, but she really wanted to be a great artist.
She got the concept from looking around her at this very place.
I think the idea, almost, was planted.
If it hadn't planted already it was planted for her in the way
that Michelangelo was celebrated.
I mean, she really had that goal in mind.
She wanted to be a great artist, not just a great woman artist,
- a great artist... - Yes.
..compared to Michelangelo, Caravaggio, Orazio certainly.
A canny strategist, Artemisia began to educate herself
in music and literature,
using her beauty and charm
to move through the elite circles of Florentine society.
But before she could achieve her ultimate goal
of accessing the Medici court itself,
she needed to produce work on a grander scale.
- Nicola? - Hello, Michael.
Hello, very nice to meet you.
Nicola McGregor runs a painting workshop in the centre of Florence
along similar lines to the one Artemisia was assembling
for her fledging business.
Would she have had assistants and a workshop to run?
On the large paintings and on frescoes,
she'd have definitely had assistants.
Probably some that were very good at doing flesh tones,
some that were very good at doing landscapes.
The design, obviously, was hers, the drawing was hers,
the ideas were hers.
She probably mapped it out.
You know, the last say is obviously by the artist.
Although the visi�n was ultimately Artemisia's,
much of her work does not bear her signature, which has led to
heated debates among scholars about what is and what is not by her hand.
Most of her work was commissioned specifically.
They weren't painters that were just sitting in their studio,
painting, trying to find a buyer.
They would've painted on commissi�n.
So it was obvious, if you commissi�n a painting from Artemisia,
so there was no need to sign.
Artemisia didn't just have a business to run, she had a family too.
Information recently discovered by Dr Sheila Barker shows that she
lived with her husband in this area, close to Sant'Ambrogio church.
It was during this time their first two children died.
The third child,
who was baptised here, is Cristofano,
named after a painter that she was friends with,
and who was godfather of the child.
- So that's three children we know for certain perished? - Yeah.
Was this in any way common at that time?
Or was it very unusual to have...?
- Lose three children? - I would say it's very bad statistics.
To lose your first three children is quite unusual, even in those times.
While in Florence, Artemisia gave birth to one surviving daughter,
who she called Prudentia, after her late mother.
Although touched by loss, Artemisia remained productive,
making her way each day across the city to her workshop.
So I suppose it's not changed a lot, Florence, has it?
- No, not in the essential ways, no! - Well, that's good.
- We're doing Artemisia's walk... - To work.
- through Florence. - Her daily commute. - Yeah.
Would she be with anybody, or walking on her own?
She would have been very careful to walk with a servant
- so that she would be seen as a great lady. - Ah, I see.
- So status was important? - Very important.
And clothing would have been very important
as a way of announcing her status as well.
I can tell you from the purchases she was making
that it was perhaps her most important business decisi�n.
So what kind of outfits are we talking about here?
- Were these expensive dresses? - Extremely expensive.
She was dressing at the level of the ladies at court.
And yet she didn't pay for any of it.
- You walked into the stores and took it all on credit. - Fantastic!
- I call it creative financing. - OK!
That's much more poetic.
With her eye always on the main chance,
Artemisia made sure to pass through this square in her finest outfits,
hoping to attract the attention of the wealthy residents of Santa Croce,
with their contacts to the Medici court.
The piazza's filled with the palaces of the wealthy silk merchants
that she was contracting debts with.
Artemisia sought out these cavaliere,
these knights of Florence.
Because not only were they wealthy, but, as knights, they would've been
invited to all the court festivals, and they would've had
the opportunity to mention this fantastically talented woman.
They were happy to be able to broker a relationship between her
and the Grand Duke - that made them important.
So as she's dressing the part of the heroine she paints,
she becomes a kind of walking heroine.
And she allows for these potential patrons
to enter into this imaginary story.
It was theatre.
She has prearranged - in this one particular case -
to be in the home of a gold merchant that she was friends with.
And the two of them have plans to be in a conversation
just as a wealthy silk merchant walks in the door.
Artemisia says to her friend, "Please, loan me this money,
"I'm desperate for this money!"
And he responds, "I wish I could, but I can't.
"I don't have the money."
And who saves the day?
The wealthy silk merchant walking in the door
sees a woman in distress, and he offers to loan her the money.
So she was an actress?
She was a consummate actress, it sounds like, too?
She was a scriptwriter as well!
So he loaned her the money, and of course, she didn't pay it back,
she gave him a painting in exchange.
Music and art were the vocabulary that was
shared by all of these refined gentleman.
And Artemisia made a point of learning that vocabulary.
It would seem that Artemisia's strategy paid off.
Many of her works can be found
amongst the priceless treasures of the Pitti Palace.
By painting popular historical themes,
Artemisia fully developed a style of her own,
whilst maintaining one of her most loyal and influential patrons -
Cosimo II de' Medici.
What strikes me so powerfully about this painting
is the moment of drama it captures.
And this is a very dramatic moment in the story
of the beheading of Holofernes.
The deed has been done, they're about to leave the tent,
and something has made them stop.
And the way Artemisia's captured Judith's face there,
you can see what she's done, the slight flushing of the cheeks,
the damp curis on the head, you know what she's been through.
Her mouth just slightly open, waiting, listening,
that someone might discover them.
And you can see the servant there, looking off to one side.
But really Artemisia has made Judith
the centre of attention in this painting.
Even the way the light source comes in,
it comes on her neck and her breast
and reminds us, this is a woman who has done this deed.
Not apologising for femininity, celebrating it,
but she's had to do this deed.
And the great thing is that the head of Holofernes
is almost like an afterthought.
There it is, down the bottom of the painting,
rather like they've just got it from the supermarket.
There's a certain sense
in which every artist is always in every work.
It's something that's been attributed to Cosimo de' Medici
in the 15th century - "Every artist paints himself."
In a sense, Artemisia's always painting herself.
So she's in it.
But "she's in the character"
doesn't mean the character can be reduced to that particular person.
To me, that's an important distinction.
She helps to give that character reality.
Artemisia flourished in Florence.
Most significantly,
she created a series of complex female protagonists.
It seems to me Artemisia might have used her own tragic experiences -
the loss of her mother, her rape and the premature death of her children -
to breathe life into the wronged women of history.
The likes of Cleopatra.
Lucrecia.
Bathsheba.
And Mary Magdalene.
Magdalene, for example, the tainted woman who became redeemed
by virtue of her conversi�n to follow Christ.
So these characters have, even when they're good,
they have a dimensi�n of complexity.
That's not always captured in art, it tends to be either-or.
Artemisia gives them that dimensionality,
so there's a kind of deeper psychology in her characters.
She depicted their suffering, captured their longing,
and understood their tangled moral dilemmas.
Transforming them from victims into survivors.
Her time in the city had in fact been a triumph, professionally.
Culminating in the highest honour an artist could receive -
membership of the Academy of Drawing and Arts.
Artemisia was one of the first women to receive such public recognition
and proof of her inclination as a great painter.
Never one to stay out of trouble for long,
Artemisia's own reality was becoming slightly complicated.
By 1620, estranged from her husband and behind with her commissions,
Artemisia decided to leave Florence in search of new adventures.
The dramatic backdrop of Naples
would become home to Artemisia for the last act of her life.
After a decade of travel through the great cities of Europe
as a feted lady artist,
she finally made her base in this Spanish-ruled city,
with 450,000 inhabitants
and 500 churches crammed inside its old walls.
Which of course meant wealthy patrons and abundant church commissions.
Artemisia's stay in Naples
was in marked contrast to her time in Rome and Florence.
The narrow streets of the Spanish quarter were full to bursting
with a recent surge of immigrants.
Within a year of her arrival here, Mount Vesuvius erupted spectacularly,
killing thousands along the coast.
There were even rumours that incoming artists were being
poisoned by indigenous painters for stealing their commissions.
By now, Artemisia was a seasoned survivor.
Her clever stratagems and business prowess
meant she quickly established new patrons here
whilst being careful to keep up her old contacts from a distance.
And she's got some quite impressive friends.
Galileo was someone she wrote to in 1635. Galileo Galilei.
And she writes to him as a friend -
"My most illustrious sir and most respected master."
And then proceeds onto a bit of a whinge
about someone who's not paid up:
"From his most serene highness, my natural prince..."
Ferdinando II. "I've received no favour.
"I assure your lordship that I would value the smallest
"of favours from him more than the many I've received
"from the King of France, the King of Spain, the King of England -
"and all the other princes of Europe."
So she's quite good at dropping a few names.
A letter here in 1636 to Andrea Cioli in Florence.
He was attached to Cosimo Medici, a secretary to the court there.
In this, you really hear her spirits dropping a bit.
"I have no further desire to stay in Naples.
"Both because of the fighting" - "tumulti di guerra" -
"and because of the hard life and the high cost of living.
"Please be so kind as to reply to me,
"since I have no other desire in this life."
Again, touch of the drama there, touch of the drama queen.
Always part of Artemisia's approach.
Apart from these letters,
there's very little information about Artemisia's life in Naples.
What we do know is that the only time she did leave this turbulent city was
for two years in London, where she added Charles I to her contact book.
And it was there she buried her father Orazio,
who had been working in England as a court painter.
The few pieces that've survived from her Neapolitan period
show a variable output,
producing an acknowledged masterpiece -
an innovative self-portrait, now in the British Royal Collection...
..but also more commercial work, with a softer edge.
Did she see herself as a brand in Naples?
After 1630, the whole artistic milieu in Italy changes.
Caravaggio's revolution had been the radical turning point
of the Italian art, and probably of the European art, in many respects.
But it was a very sort of short spark.
And after that, the baroque came up with new issues and new instances.
And she changes her style, like many other painters of her time.
So she becomes also very Neapolitan in some respects.
She uses the palette and the colours of the Neapolitan artists.
She probably abandons the dark lighting of the early works.
On one hand, she was to collaborate with prominent masters
of the local artistic milieu like Stanzione or Cavallino.
On the other hand,
she was to produce quite a number of versions, executed
at different degrees of quality,
in order to satisfy cheaper orders, cheaper commissions.
We know Artemisia continued to paint into her 60s,
but how and when she died is still a mystery.
One theory is that she was claimed by the great plague of 1656,
which swept through Naples.
But like much of her history,
the details have been lost over the centuries which separate her from us.
But as another chapter opens in the city of her greatest triumphs,
Artemisia Gentileschi could be coming a little closer.
One of Artemisia's large-scale commissions
has been discovered in the attics of the Pitti Palace in Florence.
Part of a missi�n by modern-day patron Jane Fortune
to rescue neglected artworks by women.
There are 2,000 works of art by women that we found
that have been languishing there for centuries.
And the Artemisia Gentileschi had been there for 363 years.
It was in deplorable condition. The humidity - there had once
been a hole in the roof and the rain had come down on it.
So when we saw it, most of the paint had come off.
There were just chunks of pieces where you didn't see anything.
And there was a question as to
whether they should restore it or not,
because it was in such deplorable condition.
But I said, it's an Artemisia Gentileschi -
she's one of the finest painters in the worid, man or woman.
She's one of the best. You cannot let this painting die.
And that's what it was going to do, just die.
The onerous task of restoration
fell to Nicola McGregor's conservation workshop.
It was a huge project
because of the size of the painting to begin with,
and because of the amount of damage.
And not only the amount of missing areas,
but also the parts of the colour that were still there
had obviously been cleaned and recleaned.
A lot of the final glazes were no longer there,
so it didn't have the rounded finish
that most post-Caravaggesque paintings have,
and her other paintings.
Can you describe what would be the process of dealing with
an Artemisia painting in a bad state?
You have to decide whether
the colour needs consolidating immediately,
so that you can touch it or move it.
Or, very often it needs cleaning first, a very gentle cleaning,
because sometimes there's a lot of old retouching
that covers the original paint.
And of course, one forgets that a painting has a life of its own.
Over the years it's been repainted and touched up
- and changed in many different shapes and forms. - Yes.
I mean, usually, most of the paintings I've worked on,
like the Artemisia, have had four or five different filling layers,
which meant that over the years it had been restored repeatedly.
They did restore it, but it's very controversial how they did it
because they didn't paint over, like they normally do with paintings.
What they did is they did muted colours, blues and tans,
and filled in the spots that were missing the paint,
and so what happens is, when you stand away from the painting
your eye makes it look like the painting is full.
When you come up to the painting,
you can see where it's been filled in.
We couldn't repaint the eye. We wanted to keep it consistent,
so that what was left of Artemisia would emerge.
It's an amazing piece, it's an amazing piece.
And when they did it they could not find David in the painting.
And it was about a week or so
before we were going to show the painting to the public,
and they were cleaning up in this little corner,
and here's David, this little teeny, teeny picture of David,
and everybody was so excited we found David!
This rediscovery is now part of an ongoing quest to define
Artemisia's output, culminating tonight in
an international conference of academics, writers and fans
from all over the worid who have come here to talk Artemisia.
To me, Artemisia is so interesting because she's like a chameleon.
She's so often hidden under all the names
and other artists' names.
And she comes, after scrutiny,
she comes to be a very unpredictable artist at times.
That's why I like her.
You have a feeling, this ridiculous feeling, you know her in some way,
or she's telling you something and you have to respond in some way.
- It becomes a very personal art for a lot of people. - Exactly.
Yes, I think so.
I think people responded very personally to her.
They feel they know her.
I think she speaks, particularly for women,
to some aspect of their lives.
They want to champion her, and as they do they champion themselves.
I think there's a lot to that.
Is this still a lot of information to be gathered on Artemisia?
Archives to be unlocked?
It's still a mine to be explored.
You know, we only have
these individual slices of moments in her life.
Someday maybe we'll have a more wide picture of the whole life.
In her keynote speech, worid expert Mary Garrard
highlights a disturbing new trend in attribution.
The Artemisia discourse has also generated sharp disagreements
over attributions among scholars and curators -
even between co-curators -
with the result that Artemisia's artistic identity
is far from fixed or agreed upon.
More and more works are turning up in recent exhibitions
and on the market which are pretty questionable
as attributions to Artemisia,
and with the result that we used to have
a much clearer sense of the oeuvre.
Now we're being asked to accept things that
either widen our understanding of what she was capable of,
or really we should just raise our eyebrows and say,
"That's not possible."
Artemisia's name cannot be a wastebasket into which
we dump images of women that do not remotely resemble
those she painted, or even each other.
Realistically...
With Artemisia Gentileschi paintings
now selling for over a million dollars,
and with around half of what she produced still missing,
it's no wonder that so many works of dubious quality
and providence are emerging from the woodwork.
We can account for this tremendous range of works
that don't look much alike
by the fact that she was a kind of chameleon.
She was out to please her patrons.
But to say that she did that all the time
and that's why none of these things look like each other
is to take away all her artistic identity completely,
and say she didn't have any core. She didn't have any sort of...
And I don't think that's plausible
on the basis of the works that we know.
She was too strong and too determined
and too coherent a personality, an artist, for that to be the case.
Not only was she a woman in a man's worid,
handicapped by gender, rather she was an artist
with an edge, whose legacy is ours to recover and preserve.
Thank you.
My quest for Artemisia is almost over.
Let's hope that having finally found a fuller picture of this
unique artist, we're not in danger of losing her again.
Artemisia Gentileschi was a force of nature.
You can see it in her paintings,
the best of which combine physical energy and emotional engagement.
You can also see it in the subjects she chose, very often
the wronged woman of history - Susanna, Cleopatra, Lucrecia, Judith.
And she didn't treat them as victims,
but as people in control of their own destiny.
And you can see it in her own life.
Artemisia was a survivor.
She was a cool operator
who never compromised her sexuality or her femininity.
In fact, she used them both
to create a whole new way of looking at woman in art.
Very nice to see you. Excellent.
Excellent.
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