Somewhere in southern Germany, between 1520 and 1525, an unknown artist completed at least six near identical statuettes of a naked elderly woman: four in bronze and two in pearwood (Figures 1-3). 1 Each version shows the woman sitting slightly hunched forward, with her arms crossed over her body, both to support her sagging breasts and seemingly as a sign of defence or self-comfort. The figure's stomach is deeply lined and her body is emaciated, with her ribcage clearly visible, and the intricacy of the carving even depicts the veins on her arms, legs and feet. Her head is inclined downwards and to the right, as are her eyes, and her face is set in a wistful or pensive expression. Her loose hair flows down her back, with a curl falling over her left shoulder. On lifting the statues, the viewer can clearly glimpse the woman's pubic hair and genitalia, yet she does not appear ashamed of her nakedness, and despite this sexualisation there is an overriding sense of both sympathy and vulnerability. These statuettes present a mystery to the viewer, extending beyond their unknown creator and place of origin. First, their presentation of an apparently secular naked elderly woman is highly unusual. In the long tradition of the female nude, the genre was typically used to celebrate the grace and beauty of young women, and with its Renaissance revival it was reserved for figures such as Eve or Venus, where their religious or scholarly subject matter was key to their profession of decency. 2 Even more unusually, with her downcast eyes and pensive expression, the statuettes appear to present a sympathetic image of elderly womanhood, thus diverging from contemporary depictions in which old women were shown as 'repulsive' and 'toothless' old hags. 3 Lyndal Roper has argued that 'the cruelty shown to older women is one of the more disturbing aspects of early modern German culture', and the majority of representations appear to reflect such a 'hatred of old women'. 4 The frailty and vulnerability depicted in the statuettes challenges this stereotype, yet the sympathy she evokes is further juxtaposed with her sexualisation, potentially removing the dignity and respect that such a portrayal would otherwise allow. The statuettes contain numerous such contradictions, as the oppositions of youth and old age, beauty and ugliness, as well as potential evil (in the form of witchcraft) and innocence, coexist in their portrayal. Yet, the fact that there were at least six of these objects suggests a certain demand or appreciation for this complex image of elderly womanhood, prompting the question of why such an unusual representation might have been so popular.