She is a ghost in the gallery. If you spend any time looking for images of the Queen of Sheba, you’ll quickly realize you aren't looking at a person. You’re looking at a mirror. For three thousand years, artists have painted, sculpted, and filmed this woman, but they always seem to see exactly what they want to see.
Was she a dark-skinned monarch from the Horn of Africa? Was she a pale, corseted royal from a French tapestry? Maybe she was a literal demon with a donkey’s hoof hidden under her silk robes.
She's everywhere. And yet, she’s nowhere.
The Queen of Sheba—known as Bilqis in Islamic tradition and Makeda in Ethiopia—occupies a strange space in our visual history. Because there is no contemporary archaeological "snapshot" of her from the 10th century BCE, her face has become a playground for racial politics, religious symbolism, and pure romantic fantasy.
The Renaissance Whitewashing of a Desert Queen
Walk into any major European museum and look for 15th-century images of the Queen of Sheba. You’ll probably see a woman who looks like she just stepped out of a Tuscan villa.
Take Piero della Francesca’s famous frescoes in the Basilica of San Francesco in Arezzo. His Legend of the True Cross cycle features the Queen prominently. In these images, she is porcelain-pale. She wears heavy, ornate gowns that would have been a death sentence in the heat of the Red Sea. Why? Because the Renaissance wasn't interested in historical accuracy. They were interested in "The Other" as a bridge to the Divine. To them, her meeting with Solomon was a precursor to the Adoration of the Magi. She had to look "regal" by European standards to make the metaphor work for a local audience.
It’s kinda weird when you think about it.
You have a woman coming from the "South"—universally accepted as either modern-day Yemen (Saba) or Ethiopia—and she’s being rendered with the skin tone of a Nordic princess. This wasn't just an artistic choice; it was a way to claim the biblical narrative for the West. By making the Queen of Sheba look like European royalty, they brought the exotic wisdom of the East into their own backyard.
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The Ethiopian Iconography: Makeda’s True Home?
If you want a totally different vibe, you have to look at the Ethiopian Kebra Nagast (The Glory of Kings).
In Ethiopia, the Queen isn't just a visiting dignitary. She’s the mother of a nation. Ethiopian images of the Queen of Sheba—specifically traditional folk art—depict a woman of deep brown skin, often surrounded by a massive caravan of camels and servants.
These paintings usually tell a story in a comic-book style. You’ll see a series of small squares:
- Makeda traveling to Jerusalem.
- The famous banquet where Solomon tricks her into being thirsty so she’ll "take" something (water) from his house, supposedly breaking her vow.
- The birth of their son, Menelik I.
In these images, the Queen is the protagonist. She isn’t a secondary character in Solomon’s story; he’s a character in hers. These depictions are crucial because they ground the legend in a specific geography. While European art turned her into a floating symbol, Ethiopian art kept her as a flesh-and-blood ancestor.
The Problem of the Hairy Leg
Here’s a detail that doesn’t make it into the Sunday School version.
In many Islamic and Jewish traditions, there was a persistent rumor that the Queen of Sheba was "unnatural." Some legends suggested her mother was a jinn (a spirit). To test this, King Solomon supposedly built a palace with a floor of polished glass. The Queen, thinking it was water, lifted her skirts to wade through, revealing... hairy legs. Or, in some darker versions, a cloven hoof.
This shows up in medieval manuscripts and even in some early Persian miniatures. These images of the Queen of Sheba are often more about Solomon’s "wisdom" in unmasking her than her own power. It’s a classic trope: a powerful woman must have some monstrous secret. Even in art, people were scared of a woman who held more gold than a king.
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Hollywood and the 20th Century Glamour
Fast forward to the 1950s. If you search for images from this era, you’re going to find Gina Lollobrigida.
The 1959 film Solomon and Sheba basically set the visual standard for a generation. This was the era of "Orientalism" in high gear. The costumes were a mix of Vegas showgirl and ancient Egyptian, with plenty of gold lamé and heavy eyeliner.
Honestly, it was more about sex appeal than scripture. These images stripped away the religious weight of the Queen and turned her into a "femme fatale." She became the woman who tried to distract the wise king from his duties. It was a regression. We went from a powerful monarch to a seductress in a push-up bra.
However, the late 20th century saw a massive shift. As the Black Is Beautiful movement took hold, artists like Romare Bearden began reimagining images of the Queen of Sheba through a lens of African pride. Bearden’s collages used fractured shapes and vibrant colors to reclaim her. He didn't try to paint a realistic portrait; he painted an idea of African majesty that had been erased by the Pieros and the Hollywood directors of the past.
Why We Can't Stop Redrawing Her
So, what did she actually look like?
Archaeologically, we know the Sabaeans (from Yemen) and the D’mt kingdom (Ethiopia/Eritrea) were sophisticated, wealthy civilizations. If a woman of her status existed, she likely wore fine linens, massive amounts of locally mined gold, and perhaps frankincense-scented oils. She wouldn't have looked like a Renaissance painting or a 50s movie star.
She would have looked like a woman of the Red Sea.
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The reason we have so many conflicting images of the Queen of Sheba is that she represents the "Search for Wisdom." Everyone wants to claim that wisdom for themselves.
- The Christians saw her as the Church.
- The Muslims saw her as a convert to the one true God.
- The Ethiopians saw her as the founder of their Solomonic dynasty.
- The Freemasons saw her as a keeper of architectural secrets.
When you look at her image, you’re looking at a 3,000-year-old Rorschach test.
How to Source Authentic Images Today
If you are a researcher or just someone obsessed with history, finding "real" images is a bit of a treasure hunt. You won't find a photo, but you can find cultural artifacts that get closer to the spirit of her era.
Look for Sabaean Alabaster
Instead of searching for paintings, look at the funerary stelae from ancient Yemen. These alabaster carvings from the 1st millennium BCE show women with large, almond-shaped eyes and intricate braided hair. While they aren't "her," they are the closest visual evidence we have of how high-ranking women in her region actually presented themselves.
Visit the British Museum or the Louvre
These institutions hold South Arabian antiquities that provide the context for the Queen’s world. Look for incense burners and bronze statues. They tell a story of a culture that was vastly more advanced than the "barbarian" labels often slapped on them by later historians.
Contemporary African Artists
Artists like Wangechi Mutu or even the photography of Zanele Muholi offer modern interpretations that challenge the old, bleached-out versions of Sheba. They use the Queen’s legacy to talk about power, femininity, and race in a way that feels a lot more honest than a 16th-century fresco.
The hunt for the "true" face of Sheba is probably a fool's errand. But maybe that's the point. By remaining a mystery, she stays relevant. She can be whoever we need her to be.
Next Steps for the History Enthusiast
To get a deeper understanding of the visual history of the Queen of Sheba, you should look into the manuscript illuminations of the Kebra Nagast found in the British Library’s digital collection. This provides the most direct link to how her primary "descendants" viewed her. Additionally, compare the Persian miniatures of Bilqis (the Islamic name for Sheba) to see how her story was adapted into the Islamic Golden Age. This cross-cultural comparison is the only way to see past the modern biases that have clouded her image for centuries.