A Professional Pioneer: Lavinia Fontana
Picking up where we left off—Anthony Van Dyck’s painting of Sofonisba Anguissola on her deathbed—we now turn to another pioneering woman artist: Lavinia Fontana (Bologna, 1552-Rome, 1614).
A native of Bologna, Fontana was so successful in her time that, according to Count Carlo Cesare Malvasia (1616-1693), her portraits sold for as much as those by Van Dyck.
Malvasia’s Felsina pittrice: vite de’ pittori bolognesi (1678), remains a foundational source on the Bolognese School of painting. With the title referencing Bologna’s ancient Etruscan name, Felsina, the work provides crucial insight into the artistic milieu that began with the Carracci family—the brothers Annibale and Agostino, and their cousin Ludovico.
Lavinia Fontana is often regarded as the first truly successful professional woman painter. After studying with her father, Prospero Fontana (1512-1597), a leading Mannerist painter in Bologna, she began her career at the age of 23—considered relatively late, especially when compared with Sofonisba Anguissola—focusing primarily on religious paintings for both private and public devotion.
During the Counter-Reformation, the demand for devotional artworks surged across Italy. One of Lavinia’s early works, The Dead Christ with Symbols of the Passion (1576), is a textbook example of Post-Tridentine private devotion. In line with the Council of Trent’s recommendations, the painting offers clear, emotionally accessible imagery aimed at encouraging meditation, even among the uneducated.
Lavinia Fontana, The Dead Christ with Symbols of the Passion, 1576. El Paso Museum of Art, El Paso, Texas
In this small but powerful painting, the dead Christ is seated on a white cloth and supported by two angels. Four more angels surround him in pairs: two hold the column of the flagellation, and two support the cross of the crucifixion. A crown of thorns, a staff, and a rope—the instruments of the Passion—are placed in the foreground.
The late Mannerist style is evident in the use of diagonals, elongated figures, and dramatic, contorted poses—particularly noticeable in Christ’s twisted left forearm. This stylistic influence can be traced directly to Lavinia’s training with her father.
Prospero Fontana’s career spanned the key artistic centers of his day. In the 1550s and 1560s, he worked alongside major Mannerist figures: Perino del Vaga in Genoa, Giorgio Vasari in Rome and Florence, and Francesco Primaticcio at Fontainebleau. Eventually, he returned to Bologna, where he established a studio and became a central figure in local artistic education.
Throughout the sixteenth century, Mannerism dominated Bolognese painting. But by the 1580s, the Carracci family rejected its artificiality in favor of a more naturalistic and classical approach. Combining the colorito of the Venetian school with the realism of central Italy, the Carracci helped usher in the Baroque era.
Lavinia’s work was widely praised for its vivid colors. The Dead Christ with Symbols of the Passion is painted on copper, a support that enhances the delicate palette. Though the technique was later popularized by artists like Guido Reni and Domenichino, it was first introduced to Bologna by Denys Calvaert—a Flemish painter who also studied with Prospero—and adopted early on by Lavinia.
The following year, in 1577, Lavinia painted a Self-Portrait at the Keyboard. Like Anguissola, she presents herself as a well-educated noblewoman. She plays an instrument—as expected of a nobil donna—and the diagonal placement of the keyboard draws attention to her hands, symbols of her intellectual and artistic skill. A painting easel in the background reinforces her identity as a professional artist.
Lavinia Fontana, Self-Portrait at the Keyboard, 1577. Accademia Nazionale di San Luca, Rome
Unlike Anguissola, Lavinia includes details of her private space. She wears a red satin dress with a lace collar, coral and pearl jewelry, and is attended by a maid holding a music sheet. The sheet is illegible but likely contains a love song—this painting was, in fact, intended as an engagement portrait. A love knot on the keyboard, a traditional betrothal symbol, reinforces this.
The painting was sent to her future father-in-law, Severo Zappi, a minor nobleman and merchant from Imola. It achieved its aim: in 1577, Lavinia married Giovan Paolo Zappi, Severo’s son. The couple signed a quite unconventional marriage contract as they agree to live in Prospero Fontana's house, with Giovan Paolo helping Lavinia out in the workshop.
An inscription on the self-portrait reads:
LAVINIA VIRGO PROSPERI FONTANAE / FILIA EX SPECVLO IMAGINEM / ORIS SVI EXPRESIT ANNO / MDLXXVII
This reference to a mirror (ex speculo) echoes the inscription on Anguissola’s early self-portrait. But Lavinia’s version adds a new layer of meaning: the mirror is used not only for reflection but also for imaginative self-construction (imaginem). In this way, the portrait becomes both a document of likeness and a work of creative invention.
In early modern art criticism, female artists were rarely described with the same vocabulary as their male peers. While male artists were praised for invenzione (inventiveness) and sprezzatura (effortless virtuosity), women were typically commended for their diligence, delicacy, or personal virtue.
Although Malvasia’s biography of Lavinia avoids re-telling personal anecdotes and focuses on specific works, Vasari’s Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects (1550, revised 1568) set a precedent with his portrayal of women as “exceptions” to the norm and became a model for most of female artistic biographies for the following two centuries.
In Rome, Lavinia’s work was critically discussed by Giulio Mancini and Giovanni Baglione, early 17th-century historians. Lavinia spent her final decade in the city, and her 1577 self-portrait was later donated to the Accademia Nazionale di San Luca—one of the oldest artist academies, founded the same year. Lavinia was admitted as an honorary member, becoming the first woman artist recognized by the institution.
From engagement self-portraits to formal marriage portraits, Lavinia excelled in portraiture—the genre most accessible to women painters of the period. Religious institutions and large-scale history paintings were often closed to women, but portraits offered a viable and lucrative career path.
In Bologna, which lacked a court but hosted around seventy aristocratic families, local patronage was robust. Lavinia became one of the most sought-after portraitists of her generation, especially for her ability to render fine textiles, jewelry, and expressive faces with remarkable sensitivity.
Compared to her male contemporaries—including her father, Passarotti, and the Carracci—her portraits display a deeper psychological insight into her female sitters.
Lavinia Fontana, Marriage Portrait of a Bolognese Noblewoman (Livia de’ Medici Bandini?), ca. 1580. National Museum of Women in the Arts, Washington, D. C.
In this Portrait of a Bolognese Noblewoman, Lavinia eliminates architectural backdrops. The figure stands out against a dark background, in three-quarter view and three-quarter length. The red velvet gown, rich with gold embroidery and jewels, dominates the composition.
The sitter is likely a member of the Bandini family, whose coat of arms featured three flowers. This portrait, probably commissioned for a wedding, includes symbolic accessories: a small dog (the so-called cane Bolognese as a symbol of fidelity), a bridal floral crown, and a pelt of a martin or sable with the characteristic gilded and bejewelled head—believed to be a fertility charm.
Lavinia frequently included the cane Bolognese in her portraits, emphasizing both marital ideals and the wealth of her patrons. In The Gozzadini Family (1584), a lavish group portrait, even the dog wears earrings—a symbol of extravagance and status.
Lavinia Fontana, The Gozzadini Family, 1584. Pinacoteca Nazionale di Bologna. Detail.
The sixteenth century was a time of immense economic, social, and religious transformation across Europe—and these changes helped create fertile ground for artistic innovation. Among the most compelling results of this flourishing period are the self-portraits created by women painters.
By expanding the visual vocabulary of self-portraiture, these artists not only established themselves in the art world but also influenced the evolution of the genre itself.
Lavinia Fontana, Judith and Holofernes, 1590-99. Pinacoteca Stuard, Parma
The story of Judith, from the Old Testament Apocrypha, became a popular subject in late sixteenth- and early seventeenth-century Italian Baroque painting. It tells of the courageous widow who saves her people by seducing and then beheading the Assyrian general Holofernes after a banquet in his honor.
Lavinia Fontana had already explored the theme in the 1590s in a painting now held by the Pinacoteca Stuard in Parma. In that version, Judith is shown still inside Holofernes’ tent, placing his severed head into a sack held by her maid, Abra.
Lavinia Fontana, Judith with the Head of Holofernes, 1600. Museo Davia Bargellini, Bologna
In the later version, now in Bologna, Judith holds up the head of Holofernes as a symbol of her triumph. The contrast with Caravaggio’s more famous depiction is instructive: where he focuses on the violent moment itself, Lavinia presents the aftermath—a quiet but resolute affirmation of action completed.
Caravaggio, Judith Beheading Holofernes, ca. 1599. Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica, Palazzo Barberini, Rome
The differences extend beyond the narrative moment. Caravaggio portrays Abra as a grotesque old crone sharing the immediate space with Judith, adding a sense of menace. In Lavinia’s version, Abra stands further back and appears to be Judith’s peer, both in age and dignity. She looks on in awe, while Judith remains calm and composed. The rotation of their bodies toward each other suggests cooperation—this was a shared act. Yet both women also engage the viewer directly with their gaze.
As noted earlier, the Counter-Reformation led to a surge in private devotional commissions. Though women artists generally received fewer such commissions than their male counterparts, Lavinia Fontana benefited from the expansion of religious institutions and the increasing demand for sacred art.
In 1604, she completed her most ambitious religious work: a monumental Martyrdom of St. Stephen for the church of San Paolo Fuori le Mura (Saint Paul Outside the Walls) in Rome. The altarpiece, nearly seven metres high, was commissioned by none other than Pope Clement VIII—a significant achievement for any artist, let alone a woman.
Although the painting and the church were tragically destroyed in a fire in 1823, we know what the work looked like thanks to an engraving by the French artist Jacques Callot. The engraving reveals that Lavinia composed a dramatic scene with fifteen over-life-size figures in the foreground and around a dozen more in the background.
Jacques Callot (1592-1635), after Lavinia Fontana, Martyrdom of St Stephen, 1611. British Museum, London
Despite the scale and ambition of the work, it received a lukewarm response. Art critic and painter Giovanni Baglione criticized it for its adherence to the late Mannerist style, which by then had fallen out of favor in Rome. In his review, he concluded by suggesting that Lavinia return to the genre deemed more “appropriate” for a woman: portraiture.
Another important work from Lavinia’s Roman period is Minerva Dressing, painted in 1613 for Cardinal Scipione Borghese.
Though the intimate subject might suggest a small-scale painting intended for a private setting, the canvas is surprisingly large—over two metres tall.
Lavinia Fontana, Minerva Dressing, 1613. Galleria Borghese, Rome
The painting was only definitively attributed to Lavinia Fontana in 1955 by Paola della Pergola, then director of the Galleria Borghese. The inscription beneath the foot of the seated cupid—FACIEBAT MDCXIII—gives only the date of completion. In the 1970s, art historian Eleanor Tufts noted similarities between the landscape in Minerva Dressing and that in Lavinia’s Visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon, held by the National Gallery of Ireland.
The background includes a partial view of the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, partially obscured by a wall. That same wall provides a dark backdrop against which Minerva’s nude figure stands out clearly, enhancing her luminous skin tones—even more vibrant following recent restoration.
The naturalism of the goddess’s body, the sumptuous interior, and the erotic undertones of the composition reflect the international style of European courts like Fontainebleau and Prague.
Lavinia had begun adopting this more sensual, courtly aesthetic in the 1590s, though how she came into contact with it remains unclear. While her father, Prospero, had spent time at Fontainebleau, his stay was brief and may not fully explain her familiarity with the style.
Lavinia’s Minerva Dressing is particularly intriguing for its unconventional portrayal of the goddess. Traditionally associated with wisdom and war, Minerva is depicted here nude and relaxed—more like Venus than a martial deity. Yet her usual attributes are all present: a shield and armor lie at her feet, an owl perches nearby, olive branches frame the background, and a putto holds her helmet.
Minerva was also the protectress of spinners and weavers, so the luxurious garment she prepares to wear could allude to this aspect of her myth. The painting suggests a layered identity—Minerva as both intellect and sensuality, wisdom and beauty.
It is almost as if the artist is suggesting that beauty and talent in a woman are not mutually exclusive.
Taking it further
Aoife Brady, Babette Bohn, Jonquil O'Reilly, Lavinia Fontana: Trailblazer, Rule Breaker, National Gallery of Ireland, 2023
Sixteenth-Century Painting in Emilia-Romagna, Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History, The Met
Two particularly notable paintings by Lavinia Fontana
by Antonella Guarracino in art history is a beautiful mess
A Tale of Two Women Painters: Sofonisba Anguissola and Lavinia Fontana
Exhibition, Museo Nacional del Prado. Madrid, 22/10/2019 - 2/2/2020
[In Italian]Il restauro di un capolavoro di Lavinia Fontana, la pittrice multitasking
by Giulia Silvia Ghia in Artribune | 12 Maggio 21
