Vision and Insight: Portraits of the Aged Woman Artist, 1600–1800

Abstract
AI

This paper investigates the representation of aging female artists through the portraits and self-portraits of three notable figures from the early modern period: Sofonisba Anguissola, Rosalba Carriera, and Anna Dorothea Lisiewska-Therbusch. It explores the themes of aging, vision loss, and artistic intelligence in their works, arguing that these artists challenge societal norms that equate beauty with youth. By focusing on the intersection of age and creativity, the study illuminates the often-overlooked narratives of older women in the art world.

Figures (9)

the vertical stripes of which accentuate her rolls of flesh. She holds a paintbrush as if it were a scepter and, in the other hand, grasps a rag, an artistic attribute that may suggest, since there is no easel in sight, that Neel, even at the age of seventy-five, is still a work in progress. Looking di- rectly out at the viewer, Neel’s steely gaze rivets us, fully confident of who she is, despite, or per- haps because of, her imperfect body. Accentuating her penetrating eyes, as well as the fact that she is stark naked, is the only accessory embellishing Neel’s body: a pair of eyeglasses. Does theit presence simply reiterate that Neel is an older woman whose physical being is no longer in its prime?’ Or do they attest to a heightened visual acuity that comes from years of painting psycho- logically probing portraits? Although boldly unconventional in the display of her naked body, Neel was by no means the first woman artist to portray herself in old age, nor the first to call attention to the simultaneous weakness and magnification of vision. This essay will examine some precedents for this particular theme, one that is so essential to the artist’s identity in any time period, through the portraits and self-portraits of three early-modern* women artists, namely Sofonisba Anguissola, Rosalba Carriera, and Anna Dorothea Lisiewska-Therbusch. All three women were internationally renowned painters who continued to create in their advanced years, and who faced the humbling circumstances of aging and vision loss by focusing on what remained: an artistic intelligence and inner vision that are projected through their portraits and life stories. Fig. 1 Alice Neel, Self-portrait, 1980. (National Portrait Gallery, © Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC.) Fig. 1 Alice Neel, Self-portrait, 1980. (National Portrait Gallery, 3 Neel’s eyeglasses indeed were a marker of old age, for based on published photographs of the artist she is shown wearing them only from the 1970s onward (see the numerous images in the artist’s chronology in Lewison et al., Alic Neel, 258-75). According to Lewison (ibid., 62n85), Neel suffered from cataracts in her later years. * For the purposes of this paper, “early modern” is used in the now current historical sense of the period between 150 mend TON sen cick ne Based no easel in sight, that Neel, even at the age of seventy-five, is still a work in progress. Looking di-

Fig. 2 Anthony van Dyck, page from his Italian Sketchbook (folio 110), 1624. (Dept. of Prints and Drawings, British Museum, London, © Trustees of the British Museum.)

Fig. 3 Anthony van Dyck, Portrait of Sofonisba Anguissola, 1624. (The Sackville Collection [National Trust], Kocile, Kent. pees ipermgl t 7. ae oo —ae +47 inte e 71 et ‘ig \ narrowed fested in eyes painfully testify to an eye disorder. Although there is greater vulnerability mani- the Turin portrait, Van Dyck nevertheless renders his mentor with a touching sympa- thy and esteem, for Anguissola seems entirely at peace, evidenced especially by her slender hands, w hich are gracefully folded over her chest and draped with a rosary. In this alternate im- age Van Dyck pays final homage to the great artist, showing her in a seemingly transitional state between away the ife and afterlife. It is a hauntingly prescient image, for Sofonisba Anguissola would pass following year.'*

Fig. 4 Anthony van Dyck, Portrait of Sofonisba Anguissola, 1624. (Galleria Sabauda, Turin.) Just as striking as the portraits of the aged Anguissola, though, is the recognition she is given by both Van Dyck and Soprani for her knowledge of artistic practice and theory. Women were forbidden from entering art academies in this period due to their supposed intellectual inferior- ity, and so Anguissola, like other young women, could study only with private instructors or rela- tives. Yet the wisdom that comes from years of experience has been a consistently recognized virtue of older people, and in that context it was perhaps more conceivable to acknowledge the female artist’s intelligence. Soprani even indicates that “van Dyck used to say that he considered himself very indebted to have conversed with Sofonisba, and confessed to having received much greater instruction from the words of a blind woman, than from the works of the most esteemed painters.”"® This is high praise indeed and demonstrates at a relatively early date that the woman artist, although of an age at which mental abilities are often in decline, could be regarded posi- tively as a virtual ancient sibyl of artistic knowledge.

The most striking and poignant role that Carriera would play in a self-portrait, and similarly inspired by the reality of her life, is seen in one of the last works created by the artist, Self-Portrait as Tragedy (ca. 1746; Gallerie dell’Accademia, Venice; fig. 6). Now approximately seventy years old, Carriera was confronting head on the end of her highly successful career due to vision loss, which one of her early biographers and friends, Pierre-Jean Mariette, indicates occurred in 1746.” The more generalized, slightly out-of-focus pastel application seen here, not to mention the somber tone of the self-portrayal, likely indicates that diminishing eyesight was indeed be- ginning to take its toll. For Carriera, vision loss was a fate worse than death, so she bravely en- dured two cataract surgeries (Mariette writes of one that she “resolved to suffer the operation”), but they were to little avail. She did recover some vision following surgery in 1749, only to have a relapse,”* which must have exacerbated the agonizing loss of something so central to her artistic

Whatever the reasons for not wearing the monocle in the Weimar portrait, Lisiewska- Therbusch eventually reversed her decision, for in at least three subsequent self-portraits she is shown wearing the unwieldy eyewear, one of which is reproduced here in figure 8 (variously dated ca. 1776-77 or 1779; Gemildegalerie, Berlin).*” The artist again turns away from some- thing, in this case a book held in one hand, to gaze directly at the viewer. She is now completely in view rather than hidden behind an architectural framework, allowing us to see the glistening fabrics of an apparently wealthy woman (and talented painter). The monocle, now suspended over her head, is slightly askew rather than centrally positioned over the right eye, which draws further notice to its exceptionality and, given its location, suggests a more implicit connection with the artist’s mind. As Vincent Ilardi has shown, when men (typically older males) are de- picted in Renaissance art wearing spectacles, the eyewear is invariably perceived as an attribute

of intelligence and wisdom, whether of an earthly or a divine nature.** By the late eighteenth cen- tury there seems to be an increased number of representations of male artists wearing eyeglasses, including Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin (1771), Francois André Vincent (ca. 1780, by his wife Adélaide Labille-Guiard), and Sir Joshua Reynolds (1788). Yet Lisiewska-Therbusch’s self- portraits predate most of these works, nor would she have seen the Chardin portrait, since she had left France in 1768. What the artist apparently realized is that the monocle, although initially incongruous in its juxtaposition with her delicate feminine attire, absolutely heightens her aura of probing perception—and, in combination with the direct gaze, might make the viewer feel as if she or he were being observed under a microscopic lens. 38 Vincent Iardi, “Eyeglasses and Concave Lenses in Fifteenth-Century Florence and Milan: New Documents, Renaissance Quarterly 29, no. 3 (Autumn 1976): 357.