On the Art and Sexual Politics of Petrophilia: In Anticipation of SJ Fuerst's New Exhibition

SJ Fuerst: Agate (2026) part of the exhibition  

Madonnas on the Rocks at Il Kamra ta' Fuq 

(20 Mar - 5 April 2026) 

 

'Just as every woman is born of a single rib, so too 

are all rocks and stones descended from one enormous ancestor ...'

 

 

I. 

 

The Virgin of the Rocks is the title of not one but two oil paintings by Leonardo of the same subject and identical in composition except for several details, some having symbolic weight and some simply relating to technical aspects of light and colour.   

 

The slightly larger version, which is generally considered the earlier of the two (c. 1483-86), hangs in the Louvre [click here]; the other recently restored version, dated between 1495 and 1508, hangs in the National Gallery, London [click here].  

 

Both were originally painted on wooden panels, but the Louvre version has been transferred to canvas. And both depict the Virgin Mary and child Jesus with the infant John the Baptist and an angel, Uriel, in a rocky setting (a non-biblical event, but a popular theme within medieval Christianity).

 

Both works are examples of the Renaissance painting technique known as sfumato, used to soften the transition between colours, and perfected by Leonardo. If you like your images to be smoked like your fish, then this is the technique for you - although it is in much greater evidence in the Louvre painting than the London work, which is sharper, less subtle, and I think slightly more sinister.     

 

Still, all this is essentially just artistic context allowing me to write in anticipation of a new solo exhibition by one of my favourite contemporary artists - the American figurative painter SJ Fuerst - opening on the 20th of this month, at Il Kamra ta' Fuq gallery (Malta) [1]: Madonnas on the Rocks ...      

 

 

II.   

 

Obviously, I cannot yet comment on the works, although the image released above by the artist on her Instagram page [click here], undoubtedly gives a good indication of what to expect; namely, images of beautiful women painted directly onto slices of stone, constituting a stunning and highly imaginative art of petrology.  

 

The work shown is titled Agate and one assumes that it is, therefore, painted on this common (but cryptocrystalline) variety of quartz, known both for its translucency and hardness. 

 

Perhaps less well known, is the fact that the stone was named by the Ancient Greek philosopher and naturalist Theophrastus [2], who discovered it and also famously wrote a book on all kinds of rocks and stones, in which he classified them based on their behaviour when heated and not just more obvious common properties. 

 

Theophrastus also considered the practical uses of various stones; such as the minerals necessary for the production of various pigments of paint. 

 

Ms Fuerst will be very aware of all this, I'm sure. For she's not only a hugely talented artist, but also a very well-read and intelligent one, who knows exactly what she's doing and what she wishes to achieve. And just like old Theo himself, she's very systematic and considered in her work; they may indicate playfulness, but there's nothing slapdash about her pictures. 

 

Readers who visit her website - sjfuesrt.com - will appreciate what I mean, whilst readers who recall my post 'Petrophilia: On the Geochemical Origin of Life and the Religious Worship of Rocks' (25 Jan 2024) - click here - will appreciate why I am so excited by Fuerst's new show [3].

 

Any male readers, however, who are thinking of attending should note that the artist has, somewhat controversially, forbidden ownership of the paintings by men and will be donating 20% of the sales to a women's rights organisation. 

 

I only hope that some of those organisations work with women who have fled from those nations and regions of the world where they still practice stoning (lapidation) as a method of capital punishment against women charged with illicit sexual activity [4]. This includes nations such as Afghanistan, Iran, Qatar, Saudia Arabia, Sudan, Yemen [5] - but not Malta, as far as I'm aware. 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] The small independent gallery is located on the first floor above the New Life Bar, 4 Church Square, Mqabba. The exhibition runs from 20 March until 5 April, 2026 and is curated by Melanie Erixon. For more information visit the website by clicking here.

 

[2] Originally from Lesbos, Theophrastus was mentored by Aristotle and eventually succeeded the latter as head of the Lyceum, in Athens. He is considered by some to be the father of botany, for a number of groundbreaking studies on plants.

 

[3] See also my post on Gauguin's painting La Vague (1888), which features giant black rocks off of the coast of Brittany (13 August 2023): click here. 

 

[4] Although men - particularly gay men - may also be subjected to stoning, the vast majority of the victims are reported to be women and it's generally accepted that women are not treated equally and fairly by the law courts in those countries where stoning remains a legal form of punishment.

 

[5] Readers will note that these are all Muslim countries, although, interestingly, stoning is not mentioned in the Quran. It is, however, a sharia-prescribed punishment on the basis of hadith (sayings and actions attributed to the Islamic prophet Muhammad), although one that is rarely carried out, even if Islamists call for its full reinstatement and the provision for stoning is retained in law.   

 

 

For a selection of other posts on Torpedo the Ark discussing the work of SJ Fuerst, please click here. 

 

 

Reflections on The Rokeby Venus

Diego Velázquez: The Toilet of Venus 

aka 'The Rokeby Venus' (1647-51) 

Oil on canvas, 122.5 x 177 cm 

nationalgallery.org.uk

 

D. H. Lawrence once jokingly suggested that his painting The Rape of the Sabine Women (1928) might best be described as a 'Study in Arses' [1]. 

 

And perhaps something similar might also be said of the only surviving female nude painted by Velázquez - the so-called Rokeby Venus - which has a lovely looking bottom as its focus point (one hardly notices the rather blurry face reflected in the mirror held by Cupid). 

 

Although paintings of the naked Venus had been popularised by 16th-century Venetian painters, such an overtly sensual picture would, of course, have been highly controversial in 17th-century Spain; the Catholic Church strongly disapproving of such risqué images. 

 

Amusingly, it's a picture that has continued to provoke outrage amongst moralists and militant ascetics of all stripes, including fanatic suffragettes such as Mary Richardson who, on the morning of March 10th, 1914, entered the National Gallery and attacked Velázquez’s most celebrated work with a meat-cleaver [2], and contemporary feminists concerned with the imperial male gaze and the sexual objectification of women, etc., etc. 

 

On the other hand, since its arrival and public display at the National Gallery in 1906, this extraordinary painting continues to inspire a wide range of artists, including the photographer Helmut Newton, who in 1981, took this beautiful photograph, after Velázquez, in his apartment in Paris, for an edition of French Vogue [3]:

 

 

 

 

Notes

 

[1] See D. H. Lawrence, The Letters of D. H. Lawrence, Vol. VI, ed. James T. Boulton and Margaret H. Boulton, with Gerald M. Lacy, (Cambridge University Press, 1991), letter 4370, sent to Aldous and Maria Huxley [2 April 1928], p. 353.  

[2] Frustrated by their failure to achieve equal voting rights for women, some within the suffragette movement, including Mary Richardson - a loyal supporter of Emmeline Pankhurst - favoured the adoption of increasingly militant tactics. As well as the attack on The Rokeby Venus, Richardson committed acts of arson, smashed windows at the Home Office, and bombed a railway station. She was arrested on nine occasions and received prison terms totalling more than three years. Perhaps not surprisingly, considering her penchant for political violence, in 1932 she joined Oswald Mosley's British Union of Fascists (as did several other leading suffragettes, including Norah Elam and Mary Sophia Allen). 

      For an interesting online essay on all this, see Philip McCouat, 'From the Rokeby Venus to Fascism', Journal of Art in Society - click here. 

[3] To be honest, this photo has always meant more to me than the painting that inspired it and those who attended my Visions of Excess series at Treadwell's in 2004 might remember that the final paper on nihilism, culture, art and technology, featured an adapted version of this picture on the poster designed to advertise the talk.