A Rediscovered “Saint Cecilia” by 17th-Century Artist Diana de Rosa Finds Its Home in Boston

Early narratives about the 17th-century artist Diana de Rosa (1602–1643) verge on the gothic. One biography, written not long after De Rosa’s death, lulls the reader with a promisingly realistic start: De Rosa demonstrated talent from an early age and, encouraged by her family, joined the workshop of the artist Massimo Stanzione. The story then starts to drift off course. After De Rosa received her first few plum commissions, a servant led her husband to suspect that De Rosa and Stanzione were having extramarital affairs. Enraged and blinded by his own passion, De Rosa’s husband murdered her and fled Naples. (Stanzione, for his part, attested to her innocence.) In reality, there is no evidence to suggest that De Rosa met her end in such a gruesome way.

Stories like this present women artists as historical aberrations or cautionary tales. It has thus taken centuries to correct the record, to prove that the creative activities of women were not nearly as uncommon as once suspected. In the case of Diana de Rosa, scholars such as Giuseppe Porzio have been piecing together the “real” De Rosa through archival research for nearly fifteen years. Their search recently culminated in the reattribution of a painting of Saint Cecilia to De Rosa, enabling a more precise picture of her œuvre and the publication of the first monograph on the artist. The painting, which was presented at TEFAF Maastricht by Galleria Porcini last year, has now been acquired by the Museum of Fine Arts (MFA), Boston.

Saint Cecilia with an Angel depicts Saint Cecilia beside an organ’s pipes, loosely clasping sheet music, while she looks towards the heavens in a moment of inspiration. She wears a violet-gray, silken dress with delicately rendered lace cuffs; her eyes are wide, her cheeks are flushed. Her mouth opens, as if she is about to sing. She seems unaware of herself, answering to her calling. A blonde cherub with feathered wings hands her another sheet of music, mirroring her pose, though he looks up at her, rather than God. Between the staffs on her music, one finds her now-deciphered signature: “Io Diana d. Rosa, sor di Giovanni.” There are a few other giveaways that the painting is by De Rosa: the pink that she used to model her figures’ contours and the subtle shadow cast by the curl on her forehead are both typical of her practice.

“As a specialist in 17th-century Neapolitan painting, I had been following with interest the reconstruction of the figure of Diana de Rosa for years,” explains Dario Porcini, director of Galleria Porcini in Naples. He saw Saint Cecilia for the first time in Paris, before it was to be sold at auction, and he describes that first encounter as destiny. “They showed me the painting of Saint Cecilia, and it was still anonymous. I immediately recognized De Rosa’s hand from the works grouped by Porzio. I was excited, but I obviously said nothing.” Not long after, a professor and art historian of Neapolitan painting confirmed the attribution. By the time it was presented at auction, Porcini recalls thinking, “it had to be mine.”

At TEFAF, Frederick Ilchman, Curator of Paintings and Chair, Art of Europe at the MFA, noticed the work just as quickly—in his case, he knew he had found something special. He recalls, “we were generally looking for paintings by Neapolitan artists, with an interest in the aftermath of Caravaggio, and thinking in particular about Spanish Naples.” When he spotted the work from a distance on the stand of Galleria Porcini, Ilchman instantly recognized its wall power.

The rediscovery of Saint Cecilia and its acquisition by the MFA Boston demonstrates an increasing commitment to recognizing that women artists are integral, rather than marginal, to our study of the past. In the case of De Rosa, her career can be viewed as exceptional while also normalizing women’s creative activities in this period.

There were many women artists active throughout Europe, but it was uncommon for them to produce work in such a public way. De Rosa received public attention, including some quite demanding church commissions. Naples, as Ilchman describes, had, “an art scene that was very much about maintaining the status quo. How does she break in?” The answer is a combination of her family’s artistic connections, an apprenticeship in the workshop of Gaspare Del Popolo, and pure talent—though there are details and struggles that have yet to be fully recovered.

Women artists produced relatively few large-scale religious subjects and in Saint Cecilia, De Rosa took advantage of her opportunity to emphasize the act of creation, rather than Cecilia’s martyrdom. “She is not buying into a traditional violence against women,” points out Ilchman. “The painting instead emphasizes her talent and inspiration from the heavens. There is a kind of twin accomplishment both to Cecilia as a musician and Diana as a painter.” Today, 28 paintings have been attributed to De Rosa, an impressively-sized surviving œuvre for an early modern woman artist.

That said, De Rosa was not alone. The MFA recently acquired a work by Italian Baroque painter Artemisia Gentileschi, a small work on copper that she produced in Naples. “You have two women active in Naples doing public commissions in the 1630s. It shows that women artists could prevail in that climate,” notes Ilchman, drawing a parallel between De Rosa and Gentileschi. Porcini thinks the two women likely knew each other, explaining “they lived in the same area in Naples and undoubtedly were in contact. Their paintings testify to this.”

But of course, De Rosa enables dialogues in many directions. Saint Cecilia opens discussions around this moment in Neapolitan history, when Naples was a Spanish viceroyalty; what creative inspiration looks like; and the tension between painting and music. Saint Cecilia is a painting by a great artist who requires no embellishment.

“Now we are featuring De Rosa in a display of new acquisitions. By the summer,” says Ilchman, “she will be in our grandest gallery, in the company of Velasquez, El Greco, Rubens, where she deserves to be.”