Why My Atelier Carries Sofonisba’s Name

I first came across Sofonisba Anguissola many years ago in Frances Borzello’s Seeing Ourselves: Women’s Self-Portraits. I remember the feeling clearly: here was a woman who painted in sixteenth-century Italy, who became famous in her own lifetime, and who placed herself, again and again, at the centre of her own paintings. I had never been taught about her. From that moment she stayed with me.

Since then I have dedicated myself to researching women artists from history, in books and in person, in museums across Europe and North America. And again and again I have found the same story. Women appear on museum walls far more often as subjects than as artists, too often without their clothes. Room after room is filled with battles, conquest and religious scenes, while the stories of women, told by women, are left at the margins or left out completely.

Meeting her work in person

The first time I stood in front of a painting by Sofonisba was at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, in the exhibition Strong Women in Renaissance Italy. It was her self-portrait in a medallion from around 1556. The Latin inscription identifies her as the maiden Sofonisba Anguissola, depicted by her own hand, from a mirror, at Cremona. I was grateful to see it, and at the same time disappointed by how small a place she and the other women artists were given in that exhibition. It felt like a tiny taste of her art.

Then, in May 2025, I travelled to the Gemäldegalerie in Berlin with one purpose: to see her portrait of her mother, Bianca Ponzoni Anguissola, from 1557. I spent a whole hour with that painting. I imagined Sofonisba standing at her easel, rendering her mother with a direct gaze, majestic and strong, every fold of fabric and every jewel painted with admiration. I wondered whether she shared the questions I carry as an artist today. How do I find patrons? How do I become visible? How do I remain fully myself, a woman and an artist, at the same time? Most visitors passed by in a few seconds. It was the only work by a woman I could find among perhaps a hundred paintings.

Malerinne in Oslo

This autumn I have been given a gift I never expected: an exhibition at the National Museum here in Oslo, Malerinne, bringing together Sofonisba and her sisters, among them Lucia, Europa and Anna Maria, who also trained as painters. I have visited three times already. This is a rare opportunity, especially to see works from private collections that may not be shown together again in our lifetime, and I warmly encourage everyone to go.

One painting stopped me in my tracks. Bernardino Campi Painting Sofonisba Anguissola (1555–1560, Pinacoteca Nazionale di Siena) shows her teacher at the easel, painting her portrait. In the exhibition it is attributed to Bernardino Campi. The authorship of this work has long been debated by art historians. In her 2024 book on Sofonisba for Lund Humphries’ Illuminating Women Artists series, Cecilia Gamberini presents it as a self-portrait by Sofonisba herself, drawing on Mary Garrard’s influential reading. In that reading, Sofonisba painted herself being painted, larger and more luminous than the master who taught her.