Heilige Itisberga after 1626

Editor: This is "Heilige Itisberga," an engraving made after 1626, currently held at the Rijksmuseum, and attributed to an anonymous artist. There is a slightly unsettling element, the dark lines almost like caricature. What’s your reading of this piece? Curator: This print offers a fascinating glimpse into the social construction of female sainthood during the Baroque period. Itisberga, depicted with both a crown denoting royalty and a halo indicating sanctity, is complex. Notice the book, symbolic of knowledge and piety, contrasted with the serpent she holds—an overt reference to sin and temptation. How do we reconcile these symbols? Editor: I hadn’t thought about the serpent that way! So it's a power dynamic? Good over evil, I guess? Curator: Potentially, yes. But I’d argue it is also a portrait about negotiating power for women within patriarchal structures. Is Itisberga a figure subduing sin or, more radically, embracing the multifaceted nature of female identity, acknowledging both its saintly and potentially 'sinful' aspects, as defined by the Church at the time? Editor: I like that alternative. That the 'saintly' figure is both. Are the visual choices designed to be subversive, in some way? Curator: The serpent is subtly phallic. Considering how often female saints became associated with visions and ecstasy, sometimes bordering on hysteria according to medical narratives of the time, might this suggest more is at play with the serpent? The artist makes you question not just religious devotion, but also the power attributed to the feminine and its capacity to hold sway. Editor: That's a really intriguing perspective, looking at it beyond just the face value of religious iconography. Thank you! Curator: Indeed. Seeing beyond the surface can reveal rich commentary on the complexities of female agency.