Susanna and the Elders
Signature
signed, verso, on the original canvas: ‘AGF’
Provenance
San Marco Casa d’Aste SpA, Venice, Importanti Dipinti di Antichi Maestri, 1 July 2007, lot 50
Private Collection, Europe
Essay
Bookending the long arc of her career, the story of Susanna and the Elders from the Book of Daniel is the single most prevalent subject in Artemisia Gentileschi’s oeuvre. It was the subject of both her first signed and securely dated painting, made in 1610 when she was about seventeen years old and living with her father Orazio Gentileschi in Rome, as well as her last signed and securely dated painting, completed in Naples in 1652. Featuring a female heroine assailed by powerful men who try to coerce her into adultery through blackmail, Susanna and the Elders is also the subject with which Artemisia made her most forceful pictorial statements regarding women’s dignity. Moreover, the subject resonated profoundly with her own life experience, since she herself had been repeatedly subjected to slander by prominent men, including Agostino Tassi during the rape trial of 1612, Bernardo Migliorati with the calumnious letter he circulated in Florence in 1620, and Gian Francesco Loredan and Pietro Michiele with the scabrously satirical epitaphs they jointly published in 1653.
Although the subject of Susanna and the Elders was a frequent leitmotif in her oeuvre, it was thoughtfully reinvented each time Artemisia approached it. Over nearly four decades, the continual stylistic experimentation evident in her many depictions of this subject evinces her avid interest in the local painterly techniques she encountered during her wide travels. Additionally, each time Artemisia reprised the Susanna and the Elders theme, she reworked her treatment of the narrative by taking new approaches to both the figures and the mise-en-scène.
Recently restored to its original chromatic splendor, the present autograph painting is one of Artemisia’s very late portrayals of the subject and constitutes an important addition to her second Neapolitan period (extending from her return from London in 1640 until her death, sometime in or shortly after 1654). The date of the painting can be surmised from stylistic comparisons. Most notable of these is its similarity to the previously mentioned 1652 Susanna and the Elders (Pinacoteca Nazionale di Bologna, inv. 6320; fig. 1), a horizontal composition. Both works are infused with a fuliginous atmosphere whose ominous effect derives from its resemblance to the frightening penumbra of a sudden solar eclipse. They also share a simplified setting consisting merely of a stone bench backed by a balustrade over which the two elders stand side by side, a trickling fountain, and the tree that is mentioned in the Biblical account of the two elders’ conflicting false testimonies. These reductive settings encourage the viewer to focus on the thoughts and emotions of the protagonists. By contrast, the complex, scenographic appeal of the Susanna and the Elders now in a private collection and dating from circa 1636–37 (fig. 2) almost competes with the story it depicts. The latter painting includes a towering palace and a perspectival landscape most certainly painted by Gargiulo after Codazzi’s design, and whose male figures with their slender frames and delicate features may have been contributed by Bernardo Cavallino according to Bissell.[1]
Despite these strong compositional similarities with Artemisia’s Susanna and the Elders from 1652, made when she was collaborating very closely with Onofrio Palumbo, certain technical characteristics of present painting link it to paintings from a few years earlier. For instance, the deep shadow that blankets much of Susanna’s upturned face, following the full arc of her brow and reaching both of her shoulders but leaving the pink triangular tip of her nose in the light, has a very close parallel in Artemisia’s Roman Charity (Cimon and Pero) (fig. 3), which has been convincingly dated by Viviana Farina to 1643–44.[2] The female protagonists of these two works also resemble one another in the similar placement of their left arms cupping the opposite breast in a graceful yet determined gesture and in the similar counterthrust of their ponderous hips. Also connecting the two works is the deployment of a predominantly olive-toned palette to exalt the smalt-blue color of Pero’s wool dress in Roman Charity and the bald elder’s wool cloak in Susanna and the Elders. The gentle, spongy crumpling of the soft, white linen cloth is handled almost identically in these two paintings. However, for an analog to the deep, sharp folds in the rigid velvet of the elder’s crimson velvet tunic, we must instead look to the Rape of Lucretia (fig. 4) and Bathsheba that were made around 1645–50 for the Dukes of Parma and which are now at the Neues Palais in Potsdam. In light of all the preceding comparisons, a dating of about 1644-48 seems most probable for this work.
Although there are numerous pictorial and iconographic correspondences between the present painting and Artemisia’s other renditions of the Susanna and the Elders theme, this particular interpretation is distinguished by its presentation of a slightly earlier moment in the story. In all of the other representations except for the newly discovered Windsor Susanna and the Elders of ca. 1638–40 (fig. 5), one of the elders holds a finger to his lips, warning Susanna to keep silent about the pair’s evil machinations lest she come to harm. Later the wicked threat underlying that gesture would actually be carried out, when the elders had Susanna arrested by falsely claiming they had seen her committing adultery with a man in her garden. By contrast, this composition, just like the one at Windsor Castle, shows a prurient elder boldly thrusting his arm across the barrier to touch the beautiful, glowing skin of Susanna’s arm. With its explicitly aggressive gesture, Artemisia directly represented the elders’ intention to do physical harm to Susanna. Yet despite this violent detail, the present painting succeeds in offering an uplifting scene: Susanna’s quick reflexes enable her to instantaneously pull back and evade the assault, while the resplendent pearls that adorn her, the pale roses that surround her, and the immaculate white linen towel covering her lap all promise that the virtue of this remarkably composed and graceful paragon of feminine virtue will remain unstained.❖
Sheila Barker