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Royal Academy of Arts
The Jillian and Arthur M. Sackler Wing of Galleries
27 March – 21 June 2026
How fantastic it is to have a substantial exhibition of a completely unknown artist; for that artist to be a woman who painted in the 1600’s; and for her work to be so assured, so accomplished and such a pleasure to experience.
We are talking about Michaelina Wautier (ever heard the name? me neither) who was based in Brussels (then in the Spanish Netherlands), of whom very little biographical detail exists, but who on the evidence of this show (about 25 paintings from the peak of her career) easily holds her own in the company of Rubens, Van Dyke and other male luminaries of the time.
The show occupies three rooms in the Sackler Wing of the Royal Academy and on entering one is faced straight away by a fabulous self-portrait. Michaelina looks directly at us, her expression earnest but with the merest hint of a smile. That might be because she knows what a thoroughly intriguing painting this is.
Michaelina Wautier, Self-portrait, c. 1650. Oil on canvas, 120 x 102 cm. Private collection.
She, the artist, is holding her brushes and palette. It holds a very limited range of pigments, projecting the idea that Michaelina is so accomplished that her technique is enough to overcome such paucity. At the side is the bare canvas of the picture she is going to paint, except that it really is bare canvas, in other words the bare canvas of this picture is being used to represent the bare canvas of that picture. It’s the kind of trick Gerhard Richter would be proud of.
This first room contains a good number of her stunning portraits, alongside some by her older brother Charles Wautier and a self-portrait by Rubens. Michaelina’s work is notable not just for its technical excellence but also for the humanity and inner life she finds in her sitters. Take a while, for example, over the Portrait of Martino Martini. Hewas a Jesuit missionary who had spent long years in China, hence the copious blue silk shirt. But note, also, the anxiety in his sideways glance.
The second gallery features Michaelina’s work in religious painting, an area usually off-limits to women at this time. In the magnificent The Education of the Virgin the Virgin is indeed a sensitively rendered innocent child, and if you look very closely you find the faintest possible halo above her head. The picture is signed (in Latin) ‘invented and made by’, suggesting that Michaelina is very keen to assert her authorship and not allow any confusion with the work of her male peers.
Michaelina Wautier, The Education of the Virgin, 1656. Oil on canvas, 147 x 124 cm. Private collection, by courtesy of the Hoogsteder Museum Foundation.
That, unfortunately, is exactly what has happened, and it is only in the last two to three decades, through the dogged detective work of Belgian art historian Katlijne Van der Stighalen, working through museum storage rooms and private collections, that unsigned, overlooked, and wrongly attributed works have come to be recognized properly as being by Michaelina Wautier.
Perhaps the greatest glories are reserved for the third gallery. Look first at Two Boys Blowing Bubbles: perfectly balanced between light and shade, technically superb, and displaying the deeply empathetic approach to her subjects we have by now come to expect. Opposing the bubbles suggesting the ephemeral nature of life are the candle and skull reminding us of the certainty of death, even for these youngsters.
Michaelina Wautier, Two Boys Blowing Bubbles, 1650.
Then there comes a great recent discovery: a group of five paintings depicting the five senses. These were thought to be lost until they resurfaced in 2019 and are shown here publicly for the first time. Her subjects again are children and her approach is one of sensitivity tinged with humour. For Touch a young lad has cut his finger; for Taste the food is a dull piece of toast; and for Smell her subject is assaulted by the odor of a rotten egg.
Michaelina Wautier, Smell, 1650. Oil on canvas, 69.5 x 61 cm. Rose-Marie and Eijk Van Otterloo Collection.
Finally, what might be considered the apotheosis of Michaelina Wautier’s achievement, The Triumph of Bacchus. It is a large painting dominating the end of the gallery. Again, she is in territory which was traditionally the preserve of men, and one wonders how she might have been able to persuade a group of masculine hunks to even pose for her. But evidently, somehow, she did.
Michaelina Wautier, The Triumph of Bacchus, c. 1655–59. Oil on canvas. 271.5 x 355.5 cm. Kunsthistorisches Museum Vienna, Picture Gallery.
The picture is unsigned, but wait a moment… actually, in a way, it is signed. For there on the right is Michaelina herself, the only figure not involved in the transport of the corpulent figure in the wheelbarrow, defiantly staring out at us, an act of self-assertion in the predominantly male world.
This exhibition is a real treat. Not just because of the quality of paintings on show, but also because visitors will be amongst the very first to see the work of a great artist wrongfully ignored and largely forgotten by history.
Michaelina Wautier.
Royal Academy of Arts
The Jillian and Arthur M. Sackler Wing of Galleries
27 March – 21 June 2026
How fantastic it is to have a substantial exhibition of a completely unknown artist; for that artist to be a woman who painted in the 1600’s; and for her work to be so assured, so accomplished and such a pleasure to experience.
We are talking about Michaelina Wautier (ever heard the name? me neither) who was based in Brussels (then in the Spanish Netherlands), of whom very little biographical detail exists, but who on the evidence of this show (about 25 paintings from the peak of her career) easily holds her own in the company of Rubens, Van Dyke and other male luminaries of the time.
The show occupies three rooms in the Sackler Wing of the Royal Academy and on entering one is faced straight away by a fabulous self-portrait. Michaelina looks directly at us, her expression earnest but with the merest hint of a smile. That might be because she knows what a thoroughly intriguing painting this is.
She, the artist, is holding her brushes and palette. It holds a very limited range of pigments, projecting the idea that Michaelina is so accomplished that her technique is enough to overcome such paucity. At the side is the bare canvas of the picture she is going to paint, except that it really is bare canvas, in other words the bare canvas of this picture is being used to represent the bare canvas of that picture. It’s the kind of trick Gerhard Richter would be proud of.
This first room contains a good number of her stunning portraits, alongside some by her older brother Charles Wautier and a self-portrait by Rubens. Michaelina’s work is notable not just for its technical excellence but also for the humanity and inner life she finds in her sitters. Take a while, for example, over the Portrait of Martino Martini. Hewas a Jesuit missionary who had spent long years in China, hence the copious blue silk shirt. But note, also, the anxiety in his sideways glance.
The second gallery features Michaelina’s work in religious painting, an area usually off-limits to women at this time. In the magnificent The Education of the Virgin the Virgin is indeed a sensitively rendered innocent child, and if you look very closely you find the faintest possible halo above her head. The picture is signed (in Latin) ‘invented and made by’, suggesting that Michaelina is very keen to assert her authorship and not allow any confusion with the work of her male peers.
That, unfortunately, is exactly what has happened, and it is only in the last two to three decades, through the dogged detective work of Belgian art historian Katlijne Van der Stighalen, working through museum storage rooms and private collections, that unsigned, overlooked, and wrongly attributed works have come to be recognized properly as being by Michaelina Wautier.
Perhaps the greatest glories are reserved for the third gallery. Look first at Two Boys Blowing Bubbles: perfectly balanced between light and shade, technically superb, and displaying the deeply empathetic approach to her subjects we have by now come to expect. Opposing the bubbles suggesting the ephemeral nature of life are the candle and skull reminding us of the certainty of death, even for these youngsters.
Then there comes a great recent discovery: a group of five paintings depicting the five senses. These were thought to be lost until they resurfaced in 2019 and are shown here publicly for the first time. Her subjects again are children and her approach is one of sensitivity tinged with humour. For Touch a young lad has cut his finger; for Taste the food is a dull piece of toast; and for Smell her subject is assaulted by the odor of a rotten egg.
Finally, what might be considered the apotheosis of Michaelina Wautier’s achievement, The Triumph of Bacchus. It is a large painting dominating the end of the gallery. Again, she is in territory which was traditionally the preserve of men, and one wonders how she might have been able to persuade a group of masculine hunks to even pose for her. But evidently, somehow, she did.
The picture is unsigned, but wait a moment… actually, in a way, it is signed. For there on the right is Michaelina herself, the only figure not involved in the transport of the corpulent figure in the wheelbarrow, defiantly staring out at us, an act of self-assertion in the predominantly male world.
This exhibition is a real treat. Not just because of the quality of paintings on show, but also because visitors will be amongst the very first to see the work of a great artist wrongfully ignored and largely forgotten by history.
© Graham Buchan 2026.
By Graham Buchan • added recently on London Grip, art, exhibitions, painting • Tags: art, exhibitions, Graham Buchan, painting