In an early, rare self-portrait, Artemisia Gentileschi appears as one of history's most courageous women

Artemisia Gentileschi is one of the most notable figures in the history of art, and her life was as remarkable as her work remains. Although she was not unique for being a professional woman painter in Italy during the early Baroque period — figures such as Lavinia Fontana and Sofonisba Anguissola had previously achieved distinction — Artemisia’s career and body of work mark her as a singular practitioner in the male-dominated history of art.

This remarkable painting will be coming to auction during Classic Week at Christie’s New York, as part of Old Masters on 4 February 2026, and will be on view to the public from 29 January at Christie’s Rockefeller Center Galleries.

Making her own life in Florence

Artemisia’s success in her own time and her recognition in ours was far from inevitable. For a teenage girl in Rome at the dawn of the seventeenth century, professional status as an artist was neither expected nor easily attainable. Raised in the household of her father, the accomplished painter Orazio Gentileschi, Artemisia lived a largely secluded life, typical for unmarried women of her time in Rome, and was personally known to very few outside that domestic sphere. Perhaps it was this constrained beginning that so sharpened her determination to be seen.

Certainly, her talent and skills progressed rapidly. As Elizabeth Cropper, an art historian of Italian and French Renaissance and Baroque art and literature, observed in the exhibition catalogue for The National Gallery’s groundbreaking show Artemisia (2020–21), ‘She learned all the more quickly because there was nothing for her to unlearn.’ Her decisive transformation from a nascent talent into a formidable artist began with her departure from Rome, following the rape trial that found the painter Agostino Tassi guilty of ‘deflowering’ her. In the winter of 1612–13, she arrived in Florence, established her own studio, and entered a city rich with cultural prestige and opportunity. Her marriage — socially expedient rather than romantic — afforded her a measure of independence that proved crucial.

While residing in Florence from 1613 until 1620, she not only found her artistic voice but also developed a remarkable acuity for navigating patronage networks. She secured commissions from elite collectors, including members of the Medici family, and moved within circles that included the astronomer Galileo Galilei and the poet Michelangelo Buonarroti the Younger. In July 1616, she achieved the distinction of becoming a member of the Accademia delle Arti del Disegno, firmly establishing her professional identity independently of her father.

Painting herself into art history

Upon her arrival in Florence, Artemisia began incorporating her own likeness into her artworks. In part, she may have been influenced by artists in the city who had previously adopted this practice. ‘Self-portraiture had already taken root as a genre in the Accademia school and Florentine painters had been known to insert themselves into their paintings in the form of ‘disguised’ self-portraits,’ explains Letizia Treves, the Global Head of Research and Expertise, Old Masters at Christie’s.

‘It’s unlikely to be a coincidence that the pictures in which Artemisia incorporates herself date for the most part from these earlier years in Florence, when she was setting up on her own,’ says Treves. ‘Like other artists of her day, she was responding to market conditions and demand for her work.’

Practicality and strategy were inseparable in Artemisia’s approach. Hiring models was expensive, and using her own image was economical. The artist arrived in Florence with the necessity of thinking commercially and, needing to attract positive attention, she quickly developed a sharp focus on generating her own revenue and recasting her personal brand.

By incorporating her own likeness into paintings of saints, martyrs, and allegorical figures, Artemisia was able to raise her profile and capitalise on her growing status as a woman painter. This strategy aligns her with other seventeenth-century artists such as Rembrandt (1606–1669), who promoted his image by dressing up in different costumes and guises for his ‘tronie’ paintings — which there was a market demand for — and even with contemporary figures like Cindy Sherman, whose work foregrounds role-playing and constructed selves. Artemisia’s self-awareness shows her to be a precursor to a more modern, reflexive approach to authorship and self-fashioning.

A fearless figure to model herself on

In the self-portrait coming to Christie’s this February, Artemisia represents herself as the fourth-century martyr saint Catherine of Alexandria. Her engagement with this historical figure is repeated in another painting, dating from a year or two later, in The National Gallery, London.

In both depictions, Artemisia holds a palm frond — symbol of martyrdom — and wears a crown, pointing to Catherine’s royal birth. The story of this early Christian martyr, as recounted in The Golden Legend, tells of her intellectual triumph over fifty eminent philosophers summoned by the Roman emperor Maxentius to dispute with her, but a young Catherine successfully defended her faith and converted them all. She was sentenced to death and bound to revolving wheels studded with iron spikes, from which she was freed by divine intervention. The instrument of her torture was Catherine’s attribute in art and can be seen here lower left.

By endowing the saint with her own features, she also creates an intimate union between artist and subject, inviting the viewer to read the image as both devotional and self-reflective. ‘Many of Artemisia’s paintings feature women from the Bible and ancient history as their main protagonists. Such subjects were by no means unusual at the time, but Artemisia brought a particular realism and psychological depth to her heroines’ strength, passion and vulnerability,’ explains Treves. And while the subject matter in this work might have been determined by a patron, she adds, ‘…what they wanted from her was something no male artist could provide – a female perspective and sensibility.’

Owning the conversation

Interest in Artemisia has accelerated significantly since her rediscovery in the 1970s, spurred by feminist art history. She was featured in the landmark 1976 exhibition Women Artists, 1550–1950, curated by Linda Nochlin and Ann Sutherland Harris, and by artist Judy Chicago’s monumental installation The Dinner Party (1974–79) – permanently on show at the Brooklyn Museum – which symbolically restored Artemisia to the table of art history. Like Artemisia, Chicago forged a path through determination and insistence on the value of women’s creative labour, both historically and in the present – a struggle that continues to this day.

London’s 2020 National Gallery landmark show, following the purchase of Self-Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria two years earlier, catapulted the artist into public awareness. That same year Artemisia Gentileschi became the second most Googled female artist (after Frida Kahlo) and the fourth most Googled artist overall, surpassing Picasso, Banksy and Velázquez in rankings.

The attention and respect Artemisia’s work commands extend beyond the museum. Few Baroque images have captured the contemporary imagination as powerfully as the artist’s Judith beheading Holofernes (1612–1613). Its forceful chiaroscuro and brutal depiction of a woman determinedly beheading a powerful man have led audiences to claim her as a proto-feminist icon. And looking ahead, a forthcoming opera based on her life is set to premiere in Germany in 2028, and will travel to four continental cities as well as London. Katy Hessel, the British art historian and curator, marveled on a previous episode of her ‘The Great Women Artists Podcast’ with Treves that when Artemisia Gentileschi created paintings with heroines, ‘it would always be from a singular point of view.’ This Self-Portrait as Saint Catherine of Alexandria coming under the hammer at Christie’s this February is no exception, balancing extraordinary intimacy with the gravity of history and faith.

Artemisia’s life and work continue to inspire new interpretations, affirming that her strategic self-representation was not merely a survival tactic, but a lasting contribution to how artists understand, assert and utilise their own image.