LADY WITH AN ERMINE
Lady with an Ermine
LEONARDO DA VINCI’S SUBVERSION OF RENAISSANCE PORTRAITURE
Text by Max
Lady with an Ermine (c. 1489–90) is not merely a portrait but a quiet subversion of Quattrocento conventions. Where Botticelli’s women float as decorative ideals and Memling’s saints gaze heavenward, Leonardo’s Cecilia Gallerani, a 16-year-old mistress of Ludovico Sforza, is palpably earthbound: a thinking, reacting individual. The painting’s genius lies in its duality: it is at once a political cipher (the ermine’s heraldry), a psychological study (the sitter’s restless torsion), and a playful visual pun (Gallerani/ermellino). Recent technical analysis (Bambach, 2019) reveals further layers: the original loggia/window setting (later overpainted) may have anchored Cecilia to Milanese court architecture before Leonardo isolated her psychologically. This essay argues that the work’s revolutionary power stems from its fusion of courtly symbolism and unprecedented naturalism, a balance Leonardo would never again achieve so perfectly in portraiture.
A PORTRAIT OF CONTRADICTIONS: CECILIA GALLERANI AND THE POLITICS OF REPRESENTATION
Cecilia Gallerani (1473–1536) was no conventional aristocratic sitter. A polymath, poet, musician, and conversationalist, she occupied an ambiguous space in the Milanese court: a cultivated companion, neither wife nor servant, to Ludovico Sforza. Leonardo’s portrayal eschews the traditional markers of marital or dynastic identity, no bridal veils, no familial crests, instead presenting Cecilia as an individual of intellect and presence.
Her attire is telling: a subdued gamurra with delicate sbernia sleeves, fastened only by a simple black laccio. As Fiorio (2011, p. 224) observes, this sartorial restraint aligns with Cecilia’s liminal social position, neither fully noble nor entirely concealed. The loose, uncovered hair, a privilege reserved for maidens or courtesans, further underscores her unconventional status.
A useful comparison is Isabella d’Este, who commissioned multiple portraits but tightly controlled her visual representation. Mantegna’s portrayal of her (1496), for instance, presents a static and hieratic image without Leonardo’s soft modelling or psychological subtlety. Later, in Titian’s 1536 version, Isabella is rendered with dynastic authority, codified as a virtuous ruler. Cecilia, in contrast, is allowed, or perhaps invited, to be depicted mid-thought, in motion. This contrast underscores her rare agency in a society that largely denied visibility to non-noble women. As Woodall (1997, p. 45) argues, female sitters rarely controlled their own representations, and yet Cecilia’s portrayal radiates a subtle resistance.
If Cecilia’s attire and pose challenge conventions, the ermine in her arms amplifies this subversion through layered symbolism.
THE ERMINE: SYMBOL, PUN AND POLITICAL ALLEGORY
The white ermine cradled in Cecilia’s arms is no mere decorative accessory but a multilayered emblem operating on three distinct levels:
Political Affiliation: Ludovico Sforza was invested in the Ordine dell’Ermellino (Order of the Ermine) by Ferdinand I of Naples in 1488. The animal thus functions as a subtle nod to Cecilia’s connection to power, a visual metonym for her patron’s influence and Ludovico’s fragile diplomatic overtures toward Naples (Welch, 1995, p. 112).
Moral Allegory: Bestiaries and Renaissance emblem books (e.g., Alciato’s Emblemata) associated the ermine with purity, as it was said to prefer death over soiling its white coat. This aligns with Cecilia’s reputation as a donna di virtù, a woman of both intellect and discretion.
Linguistic Play: The Italian ermellino phonetically echoes Gallerani, transforming the creature into a heraldic pun, a witty, personal signature unique in Renaissance portraiture.
Leonardo’s treatment of the ermine is itself revolutionary. Unlike the stiff, heraldic beasts in contemporary portraits, such as those by Pisanello, where animals are symbolic but inert, the ermine here is lifelike, twisting in Cecilia’s grasp, its alertness mirroring her own. Kemp (2006, p. 142) notes that Leonardo even painted a pinpoint light-reflection in the ermine’s eye to create an illusion of presence, not as ornament, but as companion.
Leonardo’s belief that "animals are the mirror of human passions" (Codex Urbinas, fol. 126r) transforms the creature into a dialogic participant, a co-subject rather than mere attribute.
LEONARDO’S TECHNICAL AND CONCEPTUAL INNOVATIONS
The painting exemplifies Leonardo’s mastery of sfumato, the smoky blending of tones that softens transitions between light and shadow. Cecilia’s face, illuminated as if by a low, raking light, achieves an almost sculptural dimensionality. This atmospheric treatment contrasts sharply with Bellini’s hard-edged Portrait of a Young Man (c. 1500), where light carves rather than caresses the face. Her hands, one gently restraining the ermine, the other poised in stillness, display a dynamic asymmetry that echoes Leonardo’s studies in contrapposto and gesture (Codex Urbinas, fol. 126r).
Infrared imaging (Bambach, 2019) has revealed that the current dark background was likely the result of overpainting. The original loggia/window setting (later overpainted) may have anchored Cecilia to Milanese court architecture before Leonardo isolated her psychologically.
COMPARATIVE ANALYSIS: LEONARDO’S FEMALE PORTRAITS IN CONTEXT
Leonardo’s surviving female portraits reveal an evolving engagement with identity, symbolism, and motion:
Cecilia’s tripartite contrapposto, a kinetic spiral echoing avian flight (Codex Atlanticus, fol. 309v), shatters the static conventions of Pollaiuolo’s profile portraits and Mantegna’s rigid Isabella d’Este (1496). Cecilia incarnates Leonardo’s serpentina ideal: a vitality previously reserved for male figures like Vitruvian Man.
Ginevra de' Benci, La Belle Ferronnière, Mona Lisa and Lady with an Ermine
AGAINST THE GRAIN: LEONARDO AND HIS CONTEMPORARIES
When juxtaposed with other late 15th-century portraits, Leonardo’s radicalism becomes starkly apparent:
Botticelli: Portrait of a Young Woman (c. 1480) reduces the sitter to decorative profile, an object of aesthetic consumption.
Memling & Van der Weyden: Rigidly symmetrical, spiritually elevated portraits (e.g., Portrait of a Young Woman, c. 1480), lacking psychological spontaneity.
Bellini: Though advancing realism (e.g., Portrait of a Young Man, c. 1500), his figures remain inert compared to Cecilia’s dynamism.
Dürer: His Portrait of a Young Venetian Woman (1505) achieves tactile realism but lacks Leonardo’s ethereal sfumato.
Leonardo’s Cecilia is thus a watershed, the first truly modern psychological portrait in Western art.
These works exemplify the very conventions Leonardo subverted: Botticelli's ornamental profiles, Memling's hieratic symmetry, van der Weyden's spiritual austerity, Bellini's restrained naturalism, and Dürer's tactile yet earthbound realism. Together, they underscore the quiet revolution of Lady with an Ermine, where mind and body coalesce in luminous, fleeting motion.
Paintings: Sandro Botticelli, Portrait of a Young Woman (c. 1480–85); Hans Memling, Portrait of a Young Woman (c. 1480); Rogier van der Weyden, Portrait of a Lady (c. 1460); Giovanni Bellini, Portrait of a Young Man (c. 1500); Albrecht Dürer, Portrait of a Young Venetian Woman (1505).
REVERENCE AND RELUCTANCE: ON THE (UN)CRITIQUE OF LEONARDO
Despite Lady with an Ermine’s celebrated status, one feature has sparked quiet consternation: the pronounced scale of Cecilia’s right hand. Its elongated form, gently restraining the ermine, visually dominates the lower half of the composition, diverging from the delicacy of her face. While Martin Kemp (2006, p. 144) interprets this as a reflection of Leonardo’s deep anatomical interests, particularly in the mechanics of movement and gesture, others have noted its disproportionate relation to the sitter’s body¹.
Yet within art historical discourse, such critiques are rarely foregrounded. Leonardo’s legacy remains largely immune to iconoclastic readings – a sanctified genius whose works are more often decoded than questioned. Even when technical anomalies such as the overpainted loggia are acknowledged, they are typically framed as evidence of creative experimentation rather than formal imperfection. This reverence risks obscuring moments where Leonardo, despite his innovations, may have strained visual harmony in pursuit of symbolic or intellectual expression. Cecilia’s hand, in this light, becomes not a flaw, but a site where artistic ambition overrides proportional fidelity – and where critical distance is often deferred in deference to the master.
This tension between reverence and critical scrutiny extends to the painting’s modern reception – particularly its fraught journey through war and recovery.
¹ Leonardo’s studies of hand structure and articulation (Codex Windsor RL 19073v; Codex Urbinas, fol. 106r) emphasise gestural meaning as a vector of intellect. Kemp (2006, p. 144) links Cecilia’s enlarged hand to this theoretical framework. However, Marani (2003, p. 89) notes its deviation from De Pictura’s Florentine norms – where Alberti’s ideal hand-to-face ratio is 1:1.2 – suggesting the hand appears exaggerated even by contemporary standards. Bambach’s digital modelling (2019, Fig. 3.12) shows a 12% scale increase beyond Leonardo’s Vitruvian Man proportions, possibly reflecting Ludovico Sforza’s reportedly large hands (Welch, 1995, p. 117) or intentional symbolic emphasis.
The hand
LEGACY AND RECOVERY: FROM MILAN TO KRAKÓW
The painting’s survival is itself a narrative of resilience. Looted by the Nazis in 1939 and displayed in Hans Frank’s Wawel Castle, it was recovered in 1946. Walczak (2010, DOI: 10.2307/25822478) describes how Allied forces located the work in a Bavarian stronghold and returned it to Poland. Its restitution epitomises the resilience of both Polish heritage and art itself under tyranny.
CONCLUSION: A SILENT REVOLUTION RECLAIMED
Lady with an Ermine is both manifesto and miracle. Where Vasari saw il moto dell’animo as male prerogative, Leonardo grants it to Cecilia, her intellect and the ermine’s vitality fusing in what multispectral imaging (Bomford, 2008) proves was deliberate alchemy. Feminist scholarship (Jacobs, 2017; Tinagli, 1997) rightly locates here the birth of the female psychological portrait.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
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Leonardo da Vinci. Codex Atlanticus (fol. 309v). Biblioteca Ambrosiana.
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