Venus and Cupid (Artemisia Gentileschi)

In this work, Gentileschi has created a sumptuous image of Venus, the goddess of love, asleep under a velvet curtain. Her quilt is painted with ultramarine blue, an expensive pigment made from powdered lapis lazuli. Behind her, Cupid wields a fan of peacock feathers to prevent pests from disturbing or waking her up. On the left is a view of a hilly landscape with a small circular temple, reminiscent of the one dedicated to Venus near Hadrian's villa in Tivoli, outside Rome.

Artemisia Gentileschi, who trained in Rome with her father, Orazio, was the leading female artist of the 17th century. He worked mainly in Rome, Florence and Naples. In 1616, she became the first female member of the renowned Florence Academy of Painting.

Marked by strong contrasts of light and dark as well as unusual and daring compositions, Gentileschi's work was influenced by both his father's painting style and that of his famous associate, Caravaggio's Michelangelo Merisi. His subject matter often consists of powerfully rendered depictions of women (Judith, Susanna, Cleopatra, and Danäe, for example) dramatically portrayed as heroines or victims.

Although this Venus may seem like just another pale nude goddess lying on a soft bed in an oddly twisted position, Artemisia Gentileschi was working outside the box by painting a female nude while she was a woman. As hard as it may be to believe, in Italy in the 1600s, painting the female parts was still considered a man's job. No wonder Italian art ended up with sculpted breasts as puzzling as those in Michelangelo's Night of 1531. But never mind the injustice of Renaissance nudes. The really disconcerting thing about this painting is the little Cupid so daring.

In art, everything has been seen in history. Titian's Venus and Cupid with an Organist has an alarming dose of eroticism that makes fans wonder why the infant Cupid is looking into his mother's eyes.

Lotto's Venus and Cupid features a cheerful Cupid urinating on a seemingly unfazed Venus. And we don't even want to talk about Venus, Cupid, Madness and Bronzino's Time (Allegory of the Triumph of Venus) . The "terrifying incestual mythology" doesn't even begin to describe the oedipal shenanigans of that play.

Compared to those paintings, Artemisa Gentileschi's Venus and Cupid are refreshingly devoid of chilling incestuous vibes. Still one tends to wonder, what possessed Cupid to gently wave a fan over his sleeping mother? Is the goddess of love such a demanding queen that she has her cherub fan her during afternoon naps?

Don't be fooled by Cupid's innocent appearance. The annoying little god also contributes his share of angst in the scene. Legend has it that Cupid used his arrows to fascinate Apollo with the naiad Daphne. As sadistic as he was, Cupid made Daphne disgusted by the god in love with music. When Apollo was chasing her, Daphne's only recourse was to turn into a laurel tree, which is pretty sad for a happy ending. Cupid also reserved some arrows just for Zeus, in case the lightning tyrant fell in love. On Mount Olympus, the policy was "if he doesn't like you, change his mind with your divine powers." Consent is woefully rare in mythology.

Some experts argue that the Venus and Cupid are too foreign for Gentileschi. Could this painting be the work of an anonymous copycat, or even the elder of Artemisia himself?

Despite speculation, the resemblance of Venus to Gentileschi herself cannot be denied. Paint your own face on the goddess of beauty and love? That is an artistic act that forms followers immediately.