The name of Plautilla Nelli (1524-1588) has emerged in the context of feminist discourse surrounding the revival of the legacy of unjustly forgotten women artists—certainly in the “back alleys of a biased male world.” This discourse elicits mixed reactions: some believe that the contributions of overlooked female artists have recently been overvalued. However, this certainly does not apply to Plautilla Nelli, who is regarded as an extraordinary Florentine phenomenon.
The artist was mentioned following the release of the PBS documentary “Invisible Women: Forgotten Artists of Florence.” But can we really consider Mother Plautilla so inconspicuous? After all, she was the abbess of one of the most influential monasteries in Florence, a popular religious painter referenced in the work “Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects” by the Italian painter, architect, and writer Giorgio Vasari, and the first female artist of the Renaissance in Florence.
She Was the First
We know little about the artist’s life. Her official biography can be summarized in just a few lines: Pulisenna Margarita Nelli was born in the San Felice district of Florence into a wealthy family; her father, Piero de Luca, was a successful fabric merchant. Overall, the Nelli family belonged to the upper patrician class of Florentine society. To this day, a street named Via del Canto de’ Nelli remains in the San Lorenzo area, where the Nelli family homes were located. It is also known that the Nelli family funded the renovation of the sacristy of the Church of San Lorenzo.
Regarding Pulisenna: at the age of 14-15 (the age of brides in medieval Europe), she took her monastic vows at the convent of St. Catherine of Siena in Piazza San Marco and received the name Sister Plautilla. Later, she became the abbess of this monastery. She passed away in 1588.
And that’s about it. One can only speculate why the young maiden ended up in the monastery: she clearly was not a girl without a dowry, who had nowhere else to go. Nor was she a noblewoman without means, whose greedy relatives skimped on her dowry. A beautiful girl from a wealthy patrician family was not considered a burden; rather, she was seen as a good investment, beneficial and long-term. Especially in terms of acquiring new business partners or political allies amid the turbulent Florentine conflicts.
Piazza San Marco in Florence
Thus, it is highly likely that this step was voluntary. But why? What prompted this desperate act? The death of a beloved fiancé? A vow taken during a serious illness? A spiritual impulse typical of youth? Or a subconscious reluctance to be an object of investment, even in a successful project?
And how did her respectable family react to her decision? Did they forbid her? Try to dissuade her? Or did they ultimately decide it would be good if someone prayed for their lineage?
“The Suffering Madonna” by Plautilla Nelli
What was she like? Clearly an extraordinary personality if she took up the brush. She even began creating large religious compositions—at a time when nuns were generally only allowed to paint book miniatures, according to an unwritten rule… And she was a strong-willed person and a talented manager if she managed to lead the convent. Perhaps she was a righteous and pious nun who did not particularly enjoy venturing beyond the walls of her beloved Santa Caterina, as beyond the gates lay a too “debauched” secular Florence, where one could encounter pagan idols or the goddess Venus depicted… in the foam of the sea. And where is the ruler, who claims to be the defender of the Christian faith? Although gossip suggests that Venus was painted from the latest ducal mistress. And the bishop (God forgive us, we are not to judge him!) turns a blind eye because the ruler is generous to the church…
The Brothers and Sisters of Savonarola
To understand the realities of spiritual life at that time, one must know what the San Marco monastery complex (the Church of St. Mark and the Convent of St. Catherine) meant for Florence.
Once, the head of the San Marco convent was Girolamo Savonarola (1452-1498)—the de facto ruler of Florence from 1494 to 1498. Cursed by Rome as a heretic and a fighter for the purity of the Catholic faith, he was a cruel dictator and a fervent spiritual shepherd, a fanatical theologian and passionate preacher. This is the same Savonarola whose statue stands next to Martin Luther’s monument in Worms, and it is still said that if Savonarola had won, there would have been no need for Luther. He mercilessly criticized Rome but considered himself the most devoted Catholic, organizing “bonfires of vanity” in the squares of Florence, where works of art were burned, while at the same time preaching the exclusive role of spiritual art. Savonarola enacted laws for the execution of blasphemers and “sodomites,” yet in his sermons defended the rights of women and children, asserting that women who choose religious devotion are equal in spiritual courage to men—this at a time when theologians were engaged in serious debates about whether women have souls. Savonarola belonged to the order of St. Dominic but believed that Faith is above the rule.
“St. Catherine Receives the Stigmata” by Plautilla Nelli
During Savonarola’s time, Florence changed beyond recognition: ladies stopped wearing jewelry, psalms replaced songs in the streets, and the wealthy donated large sums to the poor, but at the same time, denunciations and brutal executions flourished. Like any utopia, the spiritual republic of Girolamo Savonarola could not last long: for him and his followers, it ended with the curse of Rome and wealth. The Medici returned to power, the heirs of Cosimo de’ Medici, the patron of the despised “pagan” humanists.
Yet the spirit of Fra Girolamo, whose physical body was burned and scattered, lived on in the hearts of his followers: the monks of San Marco, despite their Dominican robes, remained for a long time the brothers and sisters of Savonarola…
The opposition between the free-thinking, humanistic, joyful Florence of the Medici and the righteous, pious, austere Florence of Savonarola in all its tragic confrontations and intertwining became a kind of Yin and Yang of high Florentine, and later Italian culture.
Santa Caterina San Marco – A Convent of Painting
Thus, Savonarola’s sermons on women’s equality and his exhortations to avoid laziness and promote the diligence of monks, along with the cult of spiritual art that thrived among the followers of Fra Girolamo, combined with the creative enthusiasm and organizational talents of Mother Plautilla, yielded results: during her leadership, the Santa Caterina convent transformed into a large artistic workshop. The works of the nuns gained considerable popularity among the Florentine nobility, as noted by Giorgio Vasari. Esteemed signori preferred to admire their Flora and Venus in distant chambers, but in the family altar, they favored the naïve and touching images of the Sisters of St. Catherine.
St. Catherine of Siena
And while another St. Catherine—of Bologna—defended the right of women in monasteries to hold brushes, even if only for painting book miniatures, Plautilla Nelli and her students proved that they were capable of creating full-fledged religious paintings and even complex, large-scale compositions.
The abbess herself painted one of the largest canvases—a seven-meter painting of “The Last Supper,” which became a hallmark of quality for that era and placed the artist alongside masters such as Leonardo da Vinci, Andrea del Sarto, Domenico Ghirlandaio, and Alessandro Allori. Another magnificent work by the artist, “The Lamentation with Saints,” was the subject of a separate documentary by Art Media dedicated to its restoration and study.
By the way, “The Last Supper” is the only signed painting by the artist; under her other works, she simply wrote “prega per l’artista” (“pray for the artist”). Not for Sister Nun, not for the abbess, but specifically for the artist… This speaks volumes.
“The Last Supper” by Plautilla Nelli
Myths and Principles of Mother Plautilla
There are some myths regarding the work of Plautilla Nelli that, even upon superficial analysis, are completely unsubstantiated. For instance, it is believed that the artist was self-taught. This assertion can be found in Vasari, who wrote that Nelli “had little practice in her art.” Allegedly, she studied painting from the first book of reflections on the rules of painting by Alessandro Allori and Agnolo Bronzino, copying the works of Fra Bartolomeo, who left about 500 drawings at the Santa Caterina convent.
“The Lamentation of Christ”
However, anyone who has visited an art studio understands that it is impossible to reach such a level by merely copying others’ works and reading books on painting theory! In the works of Plautilla Nelli, we see the presence of, albeit rudimentary, a solid artistic education, which raises another topic for reflection. After all, such an education at that time could only be obtained by the daughter of an artist or a girl from a progressive family of Renaissance humanists who did not consider painting an exclusively male domain. Perhaps Plautilla’s father was such a person? But later, horrified by the endless calamities that befell his native city, he transformed from a free thinker into a fervent Catholic? Then everything aligns—both the artistic education of the future abbess and her subsequent religious aspirations.
Another myth is the supposed inability of Plautilla Nelli to paint men: supposedly, due to her inability to study male anatomy, the figures of men appeared too “feminine.” But one only needs to compare her “Last Supper” with a similar work by Leonardo da Vinci. It is rather Leonardo’s bodiless apostles that seem uncertain, not the specifically corporeal, muscular apostles-fishermen of Plautilla Nelli. Moreover, it is known that Fra Bartolomeo left the monastery a collection of wooden models, which the nuns could safely use to study the basics of anatomy.
Male figures in Plautilla Nelli’s “The Last Supper”
The artist is also often criticized for her “old-fashioned,” “medieval” painting style, which has long been seen as a sign of the secondary nature of her work. But perhaps this very style, characteristic of Plautilla and her teachers (including Fra Bartolomeo) and students, was a kind of ressentiment against the high “Raphaelesque” Renaissance, which remained deeply alien to the inspired brothers and sisters of Savonarola as too “worldly.” Amid the sea of Raphaelism, they continued to uphold the artistic ideals of Quattrocento—harmony of tradition, spirit, and flesh for the triumph of Faith.
St. Dominic Receives the Rosary
Centuries have passed, and in the end, everyone got their due: the Nelli family—prayers and forgiveness of sins, while Savonarola and the Medici— a page in the history textbook. Ultimately, each of them loved Florence in their own way and sought its prosperity. And the humble nun of the Santa Caterina convent became an unlikely banner of feminism and a symbol of a woman’s aspiration to creative heights. And it seems this is not in vain…