Women's Roles Throughout 17th Century Spain

Standing out in contrast with other European courts of the time, Spanish Baroque portraiture tends to be more simple with very few embellishments, transmitting the intense humanity and dignity of the subject. This however does not necessarily indicate that the subjects held great importance or were of high social status: all subjects were portrayed in the same way, whether they be mighty rulers or street children, and the audience would have understood the social roles of each person in the paintings by the context of their time. The Baroque paintings I have included below are curated to highlight the different roles women played in 17th century Spain. As you peruse the collection, focus on the naturalism in the portrayal of each subject’s features and see if you can notice any trends of fatalism these women show towards their life and predestined roles on the canvas. I also call you to pay close attention to how the subjects are painted not necessarily as representation of their autonomous selves, but by the roles they fulfilled in society. For better or worse, women in 17th century Spain were confined by the ascribed virtues (or sins) of their era, and the persons painted were used less as individuals and more as models reflecting the role they played in society. Though the modest portraiture trends of the time demanded a dignified style, this dignity was not intended for women. Rather, it was a somber representation of what a woman should, or should not, be. 

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, Four Figures on a Step, 1655–60, oil on canvas, The Kimbell Art Museum, Texas

There seems to be two layers of symbolism in this painting, the 17th century viewer would easily have recognized the woman on the right as a madam (the head of a brothel); this character was commonly represented in Spanish art and literature as wearing glasses and a handkerchief over her head. However, the madam also holds the faceless boy's head in her hands, as if she were inspecting his hair for lice. In genre scenes, this gesture was a common motif representing motherly love and spiritual purity. Likewise the woman in the act of lifting the veil can also be seen in two lights, While the gesture had alluded to marital fidelity since classical times, in this context it may instead be a signal of her availability. A contrast of moral values and the reality of Spanish society. 

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, Two Women at a Window, 1665-1675, oil on canvas, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.

There is a wistful charm from this young woman peering out from her window as her chaperone attempts to muffle a laugh with her shawl. A chaperone and her charge, a familiar duo in upper-class Spanish households however it is difficult for the viewer to classify both women in the bourgeois society of their time as the uncovered head and shoulders of the girl show an unusual permissiveness for the time. Seeing as the earliest title given to this painting was Las Gallegas (The Galician Women) the viewers would have understood Galicia to be a poor province in northwestern Spain, and the homeland of most of Seville's courtesans and prostitutes. The younger woman's direct gaze, along with her low neckline and red flower, may be interpreted as a not-so-subtle invitation.

Diego Velázquez, Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, 1618, oil on canvas, National Gallery, London

In the background of this is a Biblical scene, generally accepted to be the story of Martha and Mary. In it, Christ goes to the house of a woman named Martha. Her sister, Mary, sat at his feet and listened to him speak while Martha went to "make all the preparations that had to be made". Upset that Mary did not help her, she complained to Christ to which he responded: "Martha, Martha, ... you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” In the painting, Christ is shown as a bearded man in a blue tunic gesturing towards Martha, the woman standing behind Mary, rebuking her for her frustration. The plight of Martha relates back to that of the woman in the foreground. The redness of her puffy cheeks, and sad eyes show that she is also upset. The elderly woman indicates the scene in the background, possibly rebuking the girl and reminding her that she cannot expect to gain fulfillment from work alone.

Elisabetta Sirani, Portia Wounding her Thigh, 1664, oil on canvas, Collezioni d'Arte e di Storia della Fondazione della Cassa di Risparmio, Bologna

Elisabetta Sirani’s Portia Wounding Her Thigh depicts the ancient Roman story of Portia who was the wife of Marcus Brutus, a Roman politician who is best known for having conspired and carried out the assassination of Julius Caesar. According to the story, Portia was aware of Brutus’s plans and eager to prove her ability to be his confidant. Portia planned to prove her trustworthiness by sending her attendants away and, using a small knife, cutting a gash in her thigh. When Brutus saw her wound, Portia described her ability to endure pain as evidence of her trustworthiness, and she became his secret keeper and confidant.

Juan Carreño de Miranda, Eugenia Martinez Vallejo, Clothed, c. 1680 oil on canvas, Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid

This six-year-old girl, known as La Monstrua, large size caused a sensation in Madrid when she was taken there in 1680. The curiosity she provoked led to the publication of three short texts describing her, including one by Juan Cabezas that refers to the origin of the paintings: “The king our lord has ordered she be attired decorously, in the style of the palace, in a sumptuous dress with red and white brocade and silver buttons, and he has commanded the second Apelles of our Spain, his painter, the distinguished Juan Carreño, to produce two different portraits of her: one nude, the other clothed.” Painted as a spectacle and for the nobles' entertainment, this child was still painted in a beautiful dress and buttons, dignifying her as she is demeaned. 

Diego Velázquez, Las Hilanderas (The Spinners), 1657, oil on canvas, Museo del Prado, Madrid

Diego Velázquez, Las Hilanderas (The Spinners) depicts The Fable of Arachne. In this story, a weaving competition takes place between Arachne and Athena, the patron goddess of weaving. After hearing of Arachne's boastful claims that she possessed spinning skills which could not be matched, the goddess challenges her. Upon seeing the scene depicted on Arachne's completed tapestry, which showed the gods in a negative light, Athena turned Arachne into a spider, condemning her to weave forever. It is this competition we see about to commence in The Spinners demonstrating the role of women as domestic workers, while still referencing the understood nature of woman venomous and spider-like.

Jusepe de Ribera, Magdalena Ventura with Her Husband and Son, 1631, oil on canvas, Museo Nacional del Prado, Madrid

The Latin inscription on the stone tablet within the painting tells that when Magdelena was 37 she became hairy and “grew a beard so long and thick that it seems more like that of any bearded gentleman than of a woman who had borne three sons by her husband.” Magdalena was most-likely the primary source of income through her facial hair, as the painting shows her with a long, untrimmed beard emphasizing her "manliness" and strength even while she nurses the child in her arms, offering a unique composition featuring a different kind of motherhood.