Sofonisba’s paintings were noted for boldness and freedom; and in some pieces her figures almost seemed to breathe. Some are comic; and this branch of art, in painting as in literature, demands boldness of conception, spontaneity of movement, and delicacy of touch. One of these works represents a wrinkled old woman learning the alphabet, and a little child making fun of her behind her back.
During her residence in Spain Sofonisba received from Cremona the portrait of her mother, Bianca, painted by her sister Europa. It was highly praised by Castilian critics, and the sister prized it as a faithful likeness of a beloved one whom she might never again behold. About this time Lucia may have sent her admirable portrait of Pietro Maria, a Cremonese physician—a grave and elderly personage in a furred robe—which now adorns the queen’s gallery in Madrid, the sole specimen of the powers of the gifted sisters.
Sofonisba had for some time been lady-in-waiting to the Queen of Spain: she was now appointed by Philip, with other ladies, to undertake the education of the Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia. This proves her to have been in Spain after 1566, the year in which that princess was born. Her royal patrons wished her to marry a Spanish nobleman and take up her permanent abode near their court; but her hand was already pledged to the feudal lord of Sicily, Don Fabrizio de Monçada, and he bore her away to his island home. The king and queen gave her a dowry of twelve thousand crowns and a pension of one thousand; which she had power to bequeath to her son; besides rich presents in tapestry and jewels, and a dress loaded with pearls.
The newly-wedded pair went to Palermo, where after a few years the husband died. Sofonisba was immediately invited back to the court of Madrid, but expressed a desire to see Cremona and her kindred before her return to Spain. She embarked on board a Genoese galley, commanded by a patrician called Orazio Lomellini. He entertained the fair widow with gallant courtesy during the voyage, and she appears to have been not inconsolable for the loss of her husband. She loved the Genoese, it is said, out of sheer gratitude; although her biographer, Soprani, does not hesitate to say that she made him an offer of her hand, which he—“quel generoso signor”—very promptly accepted. The Lomellini family still preserve her portrait, painted by herself after the manner of Raphael.
We now find her living at Genoa, where she pursued her art with indefatigable zeal. Her house became the resort of all the polished and intellectual society of the republic. Nor was she forgotten by her royal friends of the house of Austria. On hearing of her second nuptials, their Catholic majesties added four hundred crowns to her pension. The Empress of Germany paid her a visit on her way to Spain, and accepted a little picture, one of the most finished and beautiful of Sofonisba’s works. She also received the honor of a visit from her former charge, the Infanta, now married or about to be married to the Archduke Albert, and joint sovereign with him over Flanders. This princess spent several hours talking with her friend of old times and family affairs; and sat for her portrait, for which, when it was finished, she gave Sofonisba a gold chain enriched with jewels. This pretty memorial of friendship was greatly prized by the artist. Thus caressed by royalty, and courted in Genoese society, she lived to an extreme old age. A medallion was struck at Bologna in honor of her; the most distinguished artists listened reverentially to her opinions, and poets sang the praises of
“La bella e saggia dipintrice,
La nobil Sofonisba da Cremona.”
In the latter years of her life Sofonisba was deprived of her sight; but retained her intellectual faculties, her love of art, and her relish for the society of its professors. The conferences she held in her own palace were attended to the last by distinguished painters from every quarter. Vandyck was frequently her guest, and was accustomed to say he had received more enlightenment from this blind old woman than from all his studies of the greatest masters. This was no mean praise from the favorite scholar of Rubens; and who shall say it was not deserved? By precept and by example she helped to raise art in Genoa from the decay into which it had fallen in the middle of the sixteenth century. Her pictures have something of the grace and cheerfulness of Raphael, in whose style her first master painted, and something of the relief of the followers of Correggio. “More than any other woman of her time,” writes Vasari, “with more study and greater grace, she has labored on every thing connected with drawing; not only has she drawn, colored, and painted from life, and made excellent copies, but she has also drawn many beautiful original pictures.”
One of Sofonisba’s works, seen at Cremona in 1824, was a beautiful picture of the Virgin giving suck to the Divine infant. In portraits her skill is said to have been little inferior to Titian. Her charming portrait of herself is no mean gem among the treasures of the galleries and libraries at Althorp. She has drawn herself in what the Germans term a “knee-piece;” rather under life-size. The small and finely-formed head is well set on a graceful neck; the dark hair is smoothly and simply dressed; the features are Italian and regular; the complexion is a clear olive; and the eyes are large, black, and liquid. The dark, close-fitting dress is relieved by white frills at the throat and wrists, and two white tassels hanging over the breast. Her delicate and exquisitely painted hands are seen over the chords of a spinet. On the right, in deep shadow, stands an old woman, wearing a kerchief twisted turbanwise around her head, and resembling a St. Elizabeth or a St. Anne in a religious composition of the Caracci. The whole is painted in the clear, firm manner of the best pencils of Florence. Sofonisba died in 1620.
Palomino mentions Sofonisba Gentilesca among the foreign painters of the reign of Philip II.: “a lady illustrious in the art,” who came from France to Spain in the train of Isabel of the Peace. She painted miniatures with great skill, and had for sitters their majesties, the Infant Don Carlos, and many ladies of the court. She died at Madrid in 1587.
Another noble lady, Caterina Cantoni, known as an excellent engraver, was invited into Spain with Sofonisba, to pursue there the calling she seems to have practiced with success in Italy. Ludovica Pellegrini was complimented with the title of the “second Minerva” for her excellence in this branch of art. She also devoted herself to needle-work, and embroidered sacred furniture, and the great pallium (vestment), exhibited to strangers as a curious specimen of art and learning. Boschini mentions “the unrivaled Dorothea Aromatari” as having produced with her needle those beauties the finest artists executed with the pencil. Other women were celebrated embroiderers. Naples boasted of one who surpassed her contemporaries both in painting and music—Maria Angela Criscuolo. Cecilia Brusasorci, the daughter of the great fresco painter, became celebrated for her portraits toward the close of this century.