A remarkable art restoration has uncovered the true identity of a mysterious 16th-century portrait, revealing not the demure noblewoman initially believed to be the subject, but rather Isabella de' Medici, one of Renaissance Italy's most notorious and tragic party girls. Ellen Baxter, chief conservator at the Carnegie Museum of Art, spent months painstakingly removing layers of 19th-century overpainting to expose the original work hidden beneath.
The painting's journey to restoration began when Louise Lippincott, the museum's former curator of fine arts, discovered the work languishing in basement storage. Originally attributed to Bronzino, court painter to Cosimo I de' Medici, the painting was thought to depict Eleanor of Toledo, wife of the second Duke of Florence. However, Lippincott found the artwork so aesthetically disappointing that she brought it to Baxter for a professional assessment.
Baxter, who possesses a unique combination of artistic and scientific expertise with a bachelor's degree in art history, minors in chemistry and physics, and a master's in art conservation, immediately suspected something was amiss. "The face was too blandly pretty, like a Victorian cookie tin box lid," she explained. Her trained eye sees paintings not as flat objects but as "three-dimensional compositions layered like lasagna," allowing her to detect inconsistencies invisible to others.
Detective work on the painting's reverse side revealed crucial evidence. Baxter identified the stamp of Francis Leedham, a 19th-century reliner who worked at London's National Portrait Gallery in the mid-1800s. Leedham specialized in the painstaking process of transferring paintings from wooden panels to canvas mounts, which involved scraping and sanding away the original backing before mounting the painted surface on new canvas. An X-ray examination confirmed Baxter's suspicions, revealing multiple layers of paint hidden beneath the Victorian-era alterations.
As Baxter carefully stripped away centuries of dirty varnish and Victorian paint from the portrait's face and hands, much stronger facial features began to emerge. The museum now attributes the work to Alessandro Allori, Bronzino's student, or someone within his artistic circle. Meanwhile, Lippincott conducted parallel research that proved equally revelatory, discovering a Medici-commissioned copy of the painting in Vienna that perfectly matched the dress and hairstyle of the emerging portrait.
This research led to the stunning revelation that the subject was actually Isabella de' Medici, daughter of Eleanor of Toledo and one of the most fascinating figures of Renaissance court life. Isabella was the apple of her father Cosimo's eye and enjoyed unprecedented freedom for a noblewoman of her era. She managed her own household and, following her mother's death in 1562, took control of her father's domestic affairs as well. Isabella became legendary for throwing extravagant, raucous parties and spending money lavishly, with her devoted father consistently covering her debts and protecting her from societal scrutiny.
Despite widespread rumors about her numerous lovers and excessive lifestyle—behavior that would have destroyed other noblewomen of the time—Isabella remained untouchable under her father's protection. Her most famous lover was reportedly Troilo Orsini, who was ironically her husband Paolo's cousin. This scandalous arrangement continued without serious consequences throughout Cosimo's reign, as he refused to rein in his beloved daughter's rebellious behavior.
However, Isabella's charmed life came to an abrupt and sinister end following her father's death in 1574. Her brother Francesco, who inherited the title of Grand Duke, had no intention of continuing his father's indulgent policies toward his sister's scandalous conduct. The dramatic change in Isabella's circumstances would soon prove fatal.
In 1576, at just 34 years old, Isabella died under mysterious circumstances at the Medici Villa of Cerreto Guidi near Empoli. The official story released by Francesco claimed that his sister had suddenly collapsed and died while washing her hair. However, the unofficial account, widely believed by historians, suggests a much darker reality: that Isabella was strangled by her husband Paolo, either as revenge for her adultery or to clear the way for his marriage to his own mistress, Vittoria Accoramboni.
During the restoration process, Baxter made another intriguing discovery regarding a decorative urn that Isabella holds in the portrait. This element was neither part of the original painting nor added during Leedham's 19th-century modifications. The urn bears a striking resemblance to vessels commonly depicted in religious art, particularly those used by Mary Magdalene when anointing Jesus's feet. Both Baxter and Lippincott speculate that this symbolic addition was made at Isabella's own request, representing an attempt to rehabilitate her scandalous reputation. "This is literally the bad girl seeing the light," Lippincott observed.
Throughout the meticulous restoration process, Baxter maintained strict professional discipline despite her obvious fondness for the liberated subject of the painting. "I'm not the artist. I'm the conservator," she emphasized. "It's my job to repair damages and losses, to not put myself in the painting." This philosophy guided her work as she used tiny brushes, pipettes of varnish, and solvents to carefully restore the portrait while preserving its historical authenticity.
The restoration also revealed Baxter's unique approach to her craft, including her habit of speaking encouragingly to the paintings she works on. "You have to tell her she's going to look lovely," she explained while spreading varnish over the portrait. This personal touch reflects her deep connection to the artworks she saves, treating each piece not merely as an object but as a living testament to history that deserves both technical expertise and emotional care.
