Resting Venuses

Resting Venuses explores spiritual rest as an act of healing, remembrance, and quiet defiance. These women are not asleep. They have finally laid down what has been carried for generations—the inherited fatigue, vigilance, grief, and unspoken sorrow woven into the female experience. Their stillness is not passive but sovereign. It is the sacred act of simply being.

Created at the beginning of a new chapter in Elisa Valenti's life, the series marks a transformation in her visual language. While her signature faceless figures and authentic bodies remain, the exposed red underpainting—traditionally hidden beneath layers of flesh—is left exposed, becoming the finished surface. It becomes both wound and earth, memory and becoming.

Faceless yet deeply familiar, these figures invite viewers to see themselves within them. Their luminous red forms carry both the pulse of life and the ember of generational feminine rage.

These Venuses have carried the weight of centuries. At last, they set it down.

“Elisa, go deep into your cave and take us with you. ”

— Jerry Saltz

Years ago, I had a conversation with art critic Jerry Saltz that stayed with me long after it ended. I told him that I was both a pharmacist and a self-taught artist, a combination that fascinated him. He began talking about the ancient women who gathered herbs, created medicines, and painted on cave walls—seeing healing and image-making as deeply connected. He called me a modern cave healer, working through both medicine and art.

Then he said something I would carry with me for years: "Elisa, go deep into your cave and take us with you."

I thought about those words often. I sensed they carried something important, but I didn't yet understand what they were asking of me.

Years later, Resting Venuses began to emerge. I wasn't thinking about cave paintings or trying to follow Jerry's advice. I was simply painting. Yet something entirely new was happening. For the first time, I abandoned my familiar palette. Instead of concealing the red underpainting beneath layers of flesh tones, I allowed it to remain visible. Across that exposed ground, earthy brown figures slowly emerged.

After the paintings were complete, they sat with me in the studio for weeks. Looking at them, I began to see something I hadn't seen while making them: the brown figures against the red ground resembled ancient cave paintings.

My thoughts returned to the Paleolithic women and Venus figures that have fascinated me for years—the same ancient connection between women, image-making, ritual, and healing that had long found its way into my Venus of NY series and sculptures.

Only then did everything come together.

Jerry's words returned to me, and I realized that, without ever intending to, I had gone into my cave.

Resting Venuses is what I found there.

All the women

in my bloodline are tired

“Jerry’s words returned to me, and I realized that, without ever intending to, I had gone into my cave. Resting Venuses is what I found there.”

“—the exposed red underpainting—traditionally hidden beneath layers of flesh—is left exposed, becoming the finished surface. It becomes both wound and earth, memory and becoming.”

Having a shadow

but not knowing it exists

“These Venuses have carried the weight of centuries. At last, they set it down.”

A field that has rested

yields a bountiful crop

“Looking at the blooming brown figures against the exposed red ground, she realized they resembled ancient cave paintings. Only then did she understand she had followed his invitation all along, drawing her back to our earliest image-makers, where painting, ritual, and healing were one.”

“Faceless yet deeply familiar, these figures invite viewers to see themselves within them. Their luminous red forms carry both the pulse of life and the ember of generational feminine rage.”