The Art Institute of Chicago Just Bought Its First Lavinia Fontana. The Wall It Gets Is the Statement.

Last updated: July 4, 2026

Picture the wall it lands on: a crowded, violent scene, bodies twisting away from a raised arm, the money-changers' tables going over. That is what the Art Institute of Chicago just added to its permanent collection, Lavinia Fontana's "Christ Driving the Traders from the Temple," painted in 1580, recently restored, shown by Trinity Fine Art at this year's TEFAF Maastricht before the museum bought it. Apollo's June acquisitions round-up, out July 2, calls it the museum's first work by Fontana. That last part is the whole story.

♦ ♦ ♦ JULY 04, 2026 | 3 MIN READ The Art Institute of Chicago Just Bought Its First Lavinia Fontana. The Wall It Gets Is the Statement. At a Glance The Art Institute of Chicago has acquired its first Lavinia Fontana, a restored 1580 Temple-cleansing; nearby-only, but a real stop for anyone in Chicago, because the wall it lands on will say more than the label. Picture the wall it lands on: a crowded, violent scene, bodies twisting away from a raised arm, the money-changers’ tables going over. That is what the Art Institute of Chicago just added to its permanent collection, Lavinia Fontana’s “Christ Driving the Traders from the Temple,” painted in 1580, recently restored, shown by Trinity Fine Art at this year’s TEFAF Maastricht before the museum bought it. Apollo’s June acquisitions round-up, out July 2, calls it the museum’s first work by Fontana. That last part is the whole story. Why a first Fontana is a narrative, not a portrait Fontana built her name on portraits. Apollo calls her “possibly the first professional woman artist in western Europe,” born in Bologna in 1552 and trained by her father Prospero. A museum landing its first Fontana could have played it safe with a bust-length society portrait, the format that made her reputation and photographs well on a small panel. The Art Institute took a large religious narrative instead. That is a claim. It files her not as a woman who painted faces but as a history painter, the highest and most crowded arena in her century, able to hold a wall of many figures against the Bolognese men she trained beside. Which wall they give it, and who hangs next to it, will finish the sentence the acquisition starts. What a restored Old Master needs from the light Here is the part the wall label leaves out. This canvas has just come off restoration, which means its full range is back, the deep shadows a Temple-cleansing lives on and the sudden lit gesture at its center. A crowd scene reads as choreography or as a brown muddle depending entirely on the light it gets. A hard raking spot bounces a hot streak off fresh varnish and flattens the massed bodies into one plane; even frontal light lets the figures stack back into depth and the violence organize itself. Restoration reset the surface. The hang decides what that restoration actually bought. There is a second reason the neighbors matter. Apollo notes the painting is “one of the few extant works by Fontana to show the influence of Michelangelo – specifically the drawings produced by the master in the 1540s on the same subject, now lost but known through a painted copy by Marcello Venusti, now in the National Gallery in London.” Fontana is quoting Michelangelo’s lost figures here. Hang it in sightline of the museum’s cinquecento Italians and the borrowed, muscular bodies read as citation. Hang it in a side corridor and that argument goes quiet. A first Fontana isn’t a trophy. It’s a sentence the wall has to finish. Verdict: nearby-only. One newly acquired canv