The mystery of Ginevra Cantofoli

Shining a light on a little known Baroque artist

On an overnight stay in Padua last year I made time to visit the Civic Museum (Musei Civici di Padova) and there I was struck by several portraits. I had already wandered through several museums in Venice and seen endless portraits most of which were of important men of their day – doges, cardinals, military commanders and the like – and found that all that masculine power and prestige became quite oppressive to look at. Here I noticed were portraits of a few women and one youth all of whom looked like more ordinary people. What a breath of fresh air. I immediately craned my neck forward to learn the name of the artist – Ginevra Cantofoli. Aah, a woman, perhaps that explained the lightness and empathetic touch that I detected in these subjects.  

Self Portrait of Ginevra Cantofoli

I try to find more about Ginevra Cantofoli but there is precious little information about her on Wikipedia which only has four lines. She was born in Bologna in 1618 to a couple, father Francesco Cantofoli and mother, Olivia Buldruni who were reportedly reasonably well off. I haven’t been able to discover who first taught her to paint but initially she made her reputation as a miniaturist which was a popular avenue for women artists of the Baroque era.

In her thirties she attended an art school run by artist prodigy, Elisabetta Sirani, and it was this maestra who urged Cantofoli to start painting big canvases - portraits, allegories and altar pieces. The hugely talented Elisabetta Sirani was 20 years younger than Cantofoli and along with taking on numerous commissions, also ran an art school – mainly for women. Up until that time the only place where women could learn to paint was inside a convent (unless they were a daughter of a painter) and Sirani’s school was the first art academy in Europe that catered for aspiring women artists. The main reason why art was deemed an inappropriate field of study for women was that the curriculum included studying the nude male form.  Elisabetta had developed her ability under the hand of her artist father, Giovanni Andrea Sirani, but by the time she was a teenager, she had already eclipsed him. Her influence on Cantofoli was profound.

Head of a Young Man with Turban by Ginevra Cantofoli

In her search for the genius of women artists which she documents in The Obstacle Race, Germaine Greer writes,

‘With Elizabetta’s help and encouragement and using her designs, Cantofoli began to undertake works on a larger scale, altarpieces and historical paintings. In 1569 she had the signal honour of seeing her altarpiece of St Thomas Villanuova carried in solemn procession around the streets of Bologna before it was formally blessed and installed in the church of San Giacomo Maggiore, where poorly preserved and badly disfigured by a spreading black stain, it hangs to this day.’

It is interesting to note that in the artwork listed in the Wikipedia entry about San Giacomo Maggiore, Cantofoli’s contribution is not even mentioned.

Her inspirational teacher, Elisabetta Sirani, managed to complete 200 paintings and then tragically died at the young age of 27 from what was most likely peritonitis following a ruptured peptic ulcer. Ruptured ulcers are still life threatening as I remember my father-in-law very nearly died from one. Without modern medicine, she would have had no chance of survival. Almost immediately after she died rumours swirled that her maid had poisoned her but those charges were eventually dropped. Then the blame was put squarely on a jealous student, Ginevra Cantofoli, who they say had murdered Sirani as they were rivals in love. A little hard to believe considering Cantofoli was 20 years older yet according to Greer, this defamation of Cantofoli’s character continued for centuries. The truth is that poor Elisabetta Sirani was so driven and so successful in art that from the age of 16, working from dawn to dusk six days a week, she had become the principle breadwinner for her family. She produced paintings in such quick succession that doubters claimed she must have had acolytes finishing her work so she invited them into her studio to watch her work with speed and precision. No wonder she had ulcers.

Cantofoli was not so prolific and in his monograph on her, art historian Prof. Massimo Pulini has attributed only 30 works to her. Although it is possible that there are overlooked works of hers that have been attributed to other artists. Unfortunately Pulini’s monograph is only available in Italian so I am not able to read it.

Young woman in Oriental Dress by Ginevra Cantofoli

Looking more closely at this portrait in Padua, it was the fashion to assume a Byzantine style and this blue turban shows Europe’s fascination with all things Turkish, a direct result of its wars with the Turks. This painting would have been very costly to produce because Ultramarine Blue was a very expensive pigment and usually only reserved for special subjects like the robe of the Virgin Mary. So whoever commissioned the portrait of this pensive beauty must have also been very wealthy. Cantofoli’s subject is subdued but she has a certain air of determination as she looks directly at the viewer.

Another portrait in this gallery of Cantofoli’s seems to be an allegory of some kind. She has painted an allegory to music, temperance and vanity, perhaps this one holding the glass of wine is to alcohol. Her eyes, wet with tears, are perhaps tinged with grief or regret – is she then drowning her sorrows?

Only recently has Ginevra Cantofoli’s work been commanding figures in excess of US$100,000 at auction. She died in 1672.

Allegory to Temperance by Ginevra Cantofoli