Il volto delle donne. Arte, voto e Costituente. Mostra al Senato della Repubblica

The Face of Women: Art, Voting, and the Constituent Assembly. Exhibition at the Senate of the Republic.

Alessandro Trizio

In the Sala Maccari of Palazzo Madama, the institutional heart of the Republic, the Senate and the Ministry of Culture have chosen to place women at the center, intertwining art and politics in a single narrative. The exhibition "The Face of Women. 80 Years of the Republic: Stories of Ingenuity, from Great Artists to the Founding Mothers" celebrates the anniversary of women's suffrage and the birth of the Italian Republic, bringing together portraits of great female painters with the faces of the twenty-one women elected to the Constituent Assembly. The result is a narrative in which the female image ceases to be a mere object of the gaze and becomes a subject of history, responsibility, and power.

In this space, the protagonists of the canvas and those in the parliamentary chamber share the same symbolic scene. They are women who, at different times, defied social constraints, hostility, and mistrust to assert their talent, whether artistic or political. They are not isolated figures: they compose a mosaic of experiences that, taken together, demonstrate a continuous female presence in national history.

From Workshops to Academies: Female Artists in a Man's World

The exhibition begins in the 15th century, when some female artists struggled to carve out a professional space for themselves in an artistic system firmly controlled by men. Access to training was almost entirely male, and the places where women learned their trade—workshops, academies, and public construction sites—were often closed to women. For many, the only avenue of learning was the transmission of knowledge within the home, between fathers, brothers, and husbands who were painters or sculptors.

Yet, from those narrow meshes emerge figures who become recognized professionals. Properzia de' Rossi, Plautilla Nelli, Sofonisba Anguissola , Lavinia Fontana , Artemisia Gentileschi, Elisabetta Sirani, Rosalba Carriera , Angelica Kauffmann, Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun are the names that punctuate the exhibition itinerary, constructed through thirteen works from some of the major Italian museums, from the Capodimonte Museum to the Gallerie dell'Accademia in Venice, from the Galleria Corsini to the Galleria Nazionale dell'Umbria.

Many of them operated in a context of veiled or open hostility. The great fresco cycles, monumental altarpieces, and public decorations were often reserved for male colleagues, and female painters found themselves confined to genres considered minor, private portraits, and less prestigious commissions. To secure work, they often had to rely on male mediation, on the ability of fathers and husbands to ensure their trustworthiness with clients.

Their challenge lies precisely within these limits. Some use self-portraits to portray saints, heroines, and queens, superimposing their own faces onto emblematic figures of myth and religion. It's a strategy of silent affirmation: the artist fits into the iconographic canon, occupying the symbolic space denied her by tradition, superimposing the image of her own body onto the ideal figure of virtue.

The Dialogue of Faces: Art and Politics in the Same Room

The curatorial idea for the exhibition is simple and radical: to bring together the artists of the past and the Founding Mothers, placing their faces, real or painted, in the same room. On one side, the creativity that spans centuries of art history; on the other, the protagonists of the founding era of the Republic, called upon to write the rules of the new Italian democracy. The connection is not rhetorical: artistic creation is interpreted as a civic act, politics as an exercise in institutional imagination.

The institutional text accompanying the exhibition emphasizes this analogy. Writing the Constitution is defined as a collective creative effort, capable of bringing together diverse sensibilities, diverse political cultures, and often conflicting biographies. In this endeavor, the contribution of the twenty-one elected representatives is not numerically impressive, but it is crucial in defining the principles of equality, social rights, and the role of work and the individual in the new architecture of the state.

The exhibition thus presents a dual genealogy. On the one hand, that of the artists who over the centuries have transformed their talent into a profession, achieving recognition in academies and international circles, as happened with Rosalba Carriera in the eighteenth century or Angelica Kauffmann in the cosmopolitan community of European artists. On the other hand, that of the women who, after the achievement of universal suffrage, entered institutions and redrew their boundaries, from the Constituent Assembly to the most recent transformations in representation.

From the 1945 decree to the 1946 ballot box

To understand the significance of this interwoven narrative, the exhibition incorporates a comprehensive documentary section on women's right to vote. Women's right to vote was introduced at the height of World War II, with Legislative Decree No. 23 of February 1, 1945, issued by the Bonomi government: for the first time, Italian women gained the right to vote in local and political elections. This was the culmination of demands dating back to the 19th century and spanning the early 20th century, including women's associations, suffragist movements, and parliamentary battles.

In January 1946, a new decree recognized women's eligibility for municipal councils, paving the way for their presence in local government. A few months later, the lieutenant's decree of March 10, 1946, established the rules for the election of the Constituent Assembly, consolidating the universal suffrage system that would be implemented in the institutional referendum of June 2.

The first postwar administrative elections began on March 10, 1946. In five voting cycles between March and April, 5,722 municipal councils were elected, representing over three-quarters of Italy's municipalities. More than 16 million voters, both men and women, turned out to vote: female voters outnumbered male voters, with 8,441,537 women versus 7,862,743 men. This was a striking statistic for contemporaries, and one that the exhibition reaffirms today as a symbol of a shared citizenship at last.

This passage marks an anniversary that goes beyond the date engraved in the collective memory of June 2nd. From the perspective of female participation, the true beginning of effective political citizenship was that March 10, 1946, when women entered the electorate en masse in local elections and experienced voting for the first time in a large local consultation.

The Twenty-One Founding Mothers: Biographies That Become Norms

The exhibition dedicates an entire section to the twenty-one women elected to the Constituent Assembly, presented through portraits and biographical profiles curated by the Senate Library. Their names, listed in almost liturgical order, reflect the political and geographical diversity of that representation: Maria Agamben Federici, Adele Bei, Bianca Bianchi, Laura Bianchini, Elsa Conci, Maria De Unterrichter Jervolino, Filomena Delli Castelli, Nadia Gallico Spano, Angela Gotelli, Angela Maria Guidi Cingolani, Nilde Iotti, Teresa Mattei, Lina Merlin, Angiola Minella Molinari, Rita Montagnana, Maria Nicotra, Teresa Noce, Ottavia Penna Buscemi, Elettra Pollastrini, Maria Maddalena Rossi, and Vittoria Titomanlio.

Many of them come to the Assembly after having actively participated in the Resistance, in the ranks of mass parties and women's organizations that built solidarity networks, underground presses, and assistance to combatants. They bring to the chamber a wealth of experience that is directly reflected in the way they articulate the principles of the future Constitution, especially regarding the rights of women workers, maternity protection, legal equality between spouses, and the rejection of discrimination based on sex.

Their presence influences key articles regarding equal social dignity, formal and substantive equality, and access to public office. Article 3, which commits the Republic to removing social and economic obstacles that limit citizens' freedom and equality, takes on a particular significance when read in light of the fact that until a few months earlier, half the population was excluded from voting. In this sense, the biographies of the Constituent Assembly members are not merely individual histories: they become an integral part of the country's legal grammar.

The exhibition also emphasizes the symbolic dimension of this presence. For the first time, within the hall where the architecture of the state was defined, women were seated, representing the entire political community. Their faces, now captured in photographs and archival materials, are juxtaposed with those painted in previous centuries, reaffirming that representation is no longer merely iconographic but also institutional.

Italy is a woman: a centuries-long iconographic thread

In the text signed by the Secretary General of the Senate, the exhibition is part of a broader reflection on the feminine image of Italy. It cites Cesare Ripa's Iconologia from 1603, where the personification of the country is depicted as a woman crowned with towers, seated on a globe, holding a scepter and a cornucopia. Reference is made to the coins bearing the inscription "Italia" minted in Corfinium, Abruzzo, in the first century BC, where a female figure still appears next to the name.

Over the centuries, Italy has often appeared as a woman's face on coins and stamps, from the age of the Kingdom to the Republic, including the famous image of Italy with its towers imprinted on paper securities and the one hundred-lire coin. Even the building housing the Senate bears a female name, Madama, linked to government figures such as Margaret of Austria and Christine of France, rulers endowed with power and political autonomy.

This persistent female iconography contrasts with the exclusion of women from institutions until after World War II. The name, symbols, and allegories are feminine, but power remains male, and decision-making spaces are closed to women. The exhibition explores precisely this gap: it shows how, starting in 1945, the female face of Italy ceased to be merely an image and became a concrete presence in parliamentary chambers, governments, and administrations.

From 1946 to today: how much representation has changed

The exhibition, while focusing on the constituent period, implicitly engages with the most recent data on women's political participation. Throughout the history of the Republic, women's representation in Parliament was long below 10 percent, both in the Chamber of Deputies and the Senate, until the 1980s. Only in the most recent legislatures has there been a significant increase, with an average exceeding the 30 percent threshold, identified by many international studies as the minimum quota for effective gender representation.

In the legislature that began in 2018, women held approximately 35 percent of seats, with 225 female deputies and 109 female senators. This percentage has since decreased slightly in the current composition of the Chambers. During this period, women have alternated in top positions: presidents of the Chamber of Deputies and Senate, ministers, undersecretaries, until the arrival of a female prime minister.

These numbers, however, do not end the discussion. While the quantitative presence has increased, imbalances remain in access to the most influential positions, in key committees, in ministries with significant portfolios, and at the top of local governments. The Senate exhibition chooses not to emphasize the achievements as a point of arrival, but to present them as a stage in a journey that is still open.

Voting, work, citizenship: equality as a process

Placing the female vote within the framework of the "80 Years of the Republic" means viewing gender equality not as a sectoral claim, but as a constitutive element of the democratic pact. Universal suffrage is not just an electoral reform: it redefines who has the right to speak in the public sphere, who can contribute to shaping policies, and who is recognized as full citizens.

The women's organizations of the major postwar parties—Communist, Socialist, Catholic—clearly grasped this connection. Their demands were not limited to the right to vote, but also included access to elected office, maternity protection, recognition of domestic work, and the ability to reconcile childbearing and career. Political citizenship was seen as a condition for obtaining social rights, and social rights as a prerequisite for participation beyond the purely formal.

Even today, statistics on political participation show that gender remains a factor that influences interest, trust in institutions, and willingness to hold public office. Differences are intertwined with other factors, such as education level, income, caregiving responsibilities, and place of residence. For this reason, the exhibition chooses to combine the exceptional stories of the Founding Mothers with a broader publication dedicated to the biographies of women who have made an impact in diverse fields, from science to music, from civic engagement to local politics, portraying a widespread pattern of participation.

Looking at those faces today

"The Faces of Women" isn't just a tribute, it's an invitation to look differently at the relationship between memory and power. Bringing together portraits of Artemisia Gentileschi and Sofonisba Anguissola with those of Nilde Iotti and Teresa Noce suggests that Italy's history isn't crafted solely in parliamentary chambers or grand galleries, but at the intersection of languages, roles, and personal journeys.

The exhibition emphasizes the continuity between the faces of myth, of saints and queens, and those of the parliamentarians who wrote the Constitution. The former are often idealized representations, projections of virtue, suffering, or power; the latter are the faces of women who bring their own biographies, made up of work, activism, political persecution, clandestinity, and reconstruction, to the decision-making room. All, in different ways, question the viewer: they demand to be recognized not only as objects of memory but as active subjects of an ongoing history.

In this exchange of gazes, the exhibition chooses an explicit message, entrusted to the motto that accompanies the institutional project for the 80th anniversary of the Republic: "Italy is a woman." In the background, a warning stands out for anyone entering the Maccari Hall as a citizen, visitor, or student: "You are free, be great." It is an invitation to today's women, but also a reminder for the institutions called upon to make that feminine face of the Republic real, and not merely symbolic.

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