Lavinia Fontana, Assumption of the Virgin, 1583

Fontana’s scene is disturbing. Assumption attempts to depict what should be a glorious scene of fulfillment after Mary’s long life comes to an end. However, Fontana for whatever reason, instills the work with a sinister quality that leaves me wondering what she was actually trying to say. The color palette immediately strikes me. The dark reds fading into black make me uncomfortable. Honestly, Mary’s destination does not look friendly like Fontana must have intended. No cool colors or even neutrals offer any kind of respite—Mary seems headed for fire. Mary looks frightened. Her facial expression betrays her unwillingness to part as she seems to recoil from the crown over her head. Fontana abandons subtlety when she draws the faces. Hundreds of disembodied souls swirl chaotically around the Virgin, surrounding her as they follow her into the sky. When paired with the red color palette, many of these souls appear tormented. A lot of them also look like really creepy dolls, which doesn’t dovetail well with the salvation vibe.

Despite all these strange aspects of the painting, I struggle to read too much into any sort of subversion on the part of Fontana. She enjoyed by far the most successful career of any female painter in her time. Twenty years after the commission of this painting, she traveled with her family—which survived on solely her income—to Rome where she remained on a commission to paint for the Church. She even painted a portrait of Pope Paul V. Although her choices for the color palette seem strange, heresy was probably not her intent.

The bottom half of the painting, separated from Mary’s divinity by a layer of clouds, connects the mundane with the spiritual. Saints Cassian and Chrysogonus, two 4th century Saints martyred by Diocletian—or maybe not, as there are at least five Cassians—point upward at Mary while retaining a connection to the real world, portrayed by the miniature town at the feet of the saints. Two papal mitres sit on the outside of each saint, perhaps telling the viewer that the path to God lies through the church. The position of the saints’ arms and faces adds to the upward movement of the painting.

Fontana’s small devotional provides a preview of the success she would one day attain working on massive commissions for the church. Compositionally, perhaps, she still had a way to go. Her use of color definitely needs a little tweaking. However, her ability to depict emotion and use symbols already presents itself here and shows much of the talent that would shine through in masterpieces like Minerva Dressing 30 years later.