How the AGO solved the centuries-old mystery of the woman in this rare painting

For years, the oil painting was simply known as “Portrait of a Lady Holding an Orange Blossom.” But much about the work was shrouded in mystery. Who is this young woman? Who painted her? And what was her story?

AGO staff knew that they had something unique and important. That’s because 18th-century paintings of people of colour by European artists are extremely rare. It’s even rarer for a portrait from that era to depict a Black woman wearing such elegant attire.

So, for the past six years, curator Adam Harris Levine has spearheaded the painstaking investigation into this portrait, the findings of which were shared at a private event hosted by the AGO earlier this month. It marked the culmination of one of the museum’s most significant research projects in recent memory — all with the goal of restoring the name of a woman whose identity had been lost to history.

“This is a really, really exciting moment after many, many years of research,” said Levine, the AGO’s associate curator of European art. “This came through much trial and error … and the success of this project is entirely the result of collaboration.”

The first clues

Levine started work on the project almost immediately after the AGO acquired the portrait in 2020, through a Sotheby’s auction in New York. (Its selling price was undisclosed, and the museum hasn’t shared how much it paid for the piece.)

At the time, Levine knew just a few basic facts about the portrait. First, the painting was completed sometime in the mid-18th century. Second, it was partially signed at the bottom of the canvas with the name “J Schul,” followed by the letters “FEC,” short for the Latin word “fecit,” meaning “made it.” And third, on the top left corner of the painting is a collection sticker with the number 52 inscribed on it. Beyond those scant clues, little else was known about the work or its provenance.

Speaking to the Star in 2020, Levine said the AGO acquired the piece because it was “really interested in buying works of art that represent more complicated and honest histories of Europe, specifically that Europe was not and has never been monolithically white, and that it’s a culturally and ethnically diverse place.”

Throughout the AGO’s investigation, Levine consulted various experts in the fields of art history, botany and dressmaking to better understand the portrait.

Among those who helped with the investigation are Maria Sullivan, head of conservation at the AGO, who found the painting underwent “several campaigns of restoration.” Meanwhile, Deborah Metsger, assistant curator of plants at the Royal Ontario Museum, confirmed that the plant the sitter is holding in her right hand is, in fact, an orange blossom. Additionally, fashion historians Ingrid Mida and Alexandra Palmer were able to narrow the possible window of when the painting was created to between 1770 and 1775, based on their knowledge of the dress.

The identity of the artist

Using that information, along with the clues from the barely legible signature, comparing it with other known artist signatures from that era, Levine was able to identify the painter by around 2021. His name: Jeremias Schultz.

Born in 1722 in Berlin, Schultz was active as a painter in Amsterdam throughout the 18th century. He was known especially for his portraits of the merchants and residents from the city.

Levine also found that the painting was, in fact, one of two companion portraits. While the whereabouts of the other is unknown, Levine learned that it was completed around the same time as the AGO’s portrait and depicts a young man.

But while those discoveries answered some of Levine’s key questions, he was still nowhere close to solving the painting’s biggest mystery: the identity of the sitter.

An unexpected email from the Netherlands

Throughout the investigation, updates of which were shared on the AGO’s website and on a podcast, Levine received numerous tips suggesting that the subject was various Black women living in Europe during that time period. “It did speak to this very heartfelt and earnest desire to help restore an identity to the sitter,” he said.

But those tips turned out to be false leads. So too was that collection number at the top left corner of the painting, added years after the portrait was completed. “At that point, research really did grind to a halt,” said Levine.

Then, in 2024, the cold case became hot once again.

Almost serendipitously, Levine received an email from a man in the Netherlands. His name was Tim de Jonge, and he and his mother, Dorien Nieuwenhuijsen, are direct descendants of Jeremias’ cousin, Beata Louisa Schultz.

For some time, de Jonge and Nieuwenhuijsen had been looking into their family history. They also knew that Jeremias had painted at least four portraits of Beata’s family. So, when they heard that the AGO’s newly acquired artwork was made by Jeremias, it piqued their curiosity.

“Maybe this is another family member,” de Jonge, who attended the AGO’s private event with his mother, recalls thinking at the time. And that’s what prompted him to reach out to Levine, offering help with the investigation.

The breakthrough

Nieuwenhuijsen and de Jonge’s further research ultimately led them to discover another name: Eleonora Susette. It turned out to be a major breakthrough.

Born into slavery in Berbice, now present-day Guyana, in 1756, Eleonora was enslaved by Beata and her husband, Stephen Hendrik de la Sablonière, who for some years was the governor of the Dutch colony.

After Sablonière died in Berbice, Beata and her children returned to the Netherlands. And according to the ship’s manifest, documenting their journey back to Europe, the family was accompanied by Eleonora and a young male slave named Michiel.

Presumably, the two slaves were brought back with the family to help them resettle in the Netherlands. And sometime after their arrival, it’s believed that Eleonora and Michiel had their portraits painted by Jeremias. She is the lady holding the orange blossom, while he is the young man in the missing companion painting.

Eleonora’s heartbreaking story

It’s unclear why Eleonora is dressed the way she is in the portrait. But Palmer said she believes it’s unlikely Eleonora owned that gown or wore such clothing on a regular basis. “The painting is essentially a glorification,” she explained. “It shows how well off the family is if their slaves were dressed fashionably.”

Eleonora and Michiel, however, didn’t stay in the Netherlands for long, and their stories — at least what we know of them so far — have a heartbreaking conclusion.

Under Dutch law, slaves could legally be brought into the Netherlands from one of its overseas colonies, but had to be freed if they remained there for more than several months.

The pair, though, would not be granted their freedom, and ended up being sent back to Berbice less than a year after they arrived in the Netherlands, according to additional ship records found by Nieuwenhuijsen.

What happened to them after they returned to South America is unclear. But for Levine, the work continues. If Eleonora has any living descendants, it’s his hope that, maybe one day, they can be reunited with the painting of their ancestor. And, perhaps, if that day comes, Levine hopes he can share a more complete picture of the life that Eleonora once lived.

With files by Sue Carter