Pre-Raphaelites

This poem was originally published June 25, 2012.

The Pre-Raphaelite movement was the first movement or genre in art history that I was drawn to back when I was about twelve. It lead to a lifelong passion for the arts. I immediately fell in love with the works of Rossetti, Hunt, Millais, Burne-Jones, and Waterhouse. Their works collectively cast a spell on me that has held me in its sway ever since. I’ve frequently turned to my favourite works of art, literature, and film for poetic inspiration. In this case, it’s most evident, as I sought to evoke, or at least allude to, the imagery of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Particularly, I wanted to pay homage to Alexa Wilding, who was Rossetti’s muse, and whose face has become synonymous with Pre-Raphaelitism. Of all Rossetti’s major muses and models, Wilding is the least known about and this may be due to the fact tat she is the only one with whom there are no love letters to document a possible affair.

“Sibylla Palmifera” by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1866-1870).

Alexa

‘Twas so easy to go over
To just retrace the line
To place the face of an angel
Over the devil’s concubine
Young Wilding was a beauty
With her locks of flaming red
Such deep eyes like an ocean
Upon her my eyes have fed
Her sweet lips full and scarlet
No wonder she was Rossetti’s muse
For those mundane pale and shudder
By her exposure of their cold ruse
In golden light she shone
And lent her higher grace
Yet the brush failed to possess
The nuance of such an elusive face
The subtlety and the complexity
Gentle features hid them well
And upon her brow, no worry
Or else none that her heart would tell

“Lady Lilith” by Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1866-1868, altered 1872-1873).

The lines of the poem reference two paintings: Sibylla Palmifera and Lady Lilith. These two paintings were intended as companion pieces to one another. Alexa Wilding appears in both, however, Lady Lilith was originally painted with Rossetti’s previous muse, Fanny Cornforth, as its model. Five to seven years later, Rossetti altered the painting, placing Wilding’s face over Cornforth’s. This is referenced in the first four lines of the poem. Lilith, in Hebrew mythology, is the first wife of Adam who is banished from Eden after crying out the secret sacred name of God. She dwells in the desert lands outside of Eden and preys upon men given to temptation and feasts on the blood of innocents. She is the Queen of the Night, the Mother of Demons, and the First Vampire. During the Medieval period, Lilith’s myth was expounded upon and expanded, and she was dubbed the Devil’s Concubine, a title that was also applied to the Fallen Angels that followed Satan. The phrase was also uttered by the character of Van Helsing in Bram Stoker’s Dracula, the Francis Ford Coppola-directed adaptation of the late Victorian era Gothic novel Dracula to describe the character Lucy after she became a vampire. In the film, Lucy is depicted with long, flowing red hair, and her sexualized nature, in stark contrast to the virginal Mina, foreshadows her becoming a predatory creature of the night. This ties into Victorian ideas about femininity, which I have elucidated on in a number of essays, in which women were either seen as saints or sinners, as domesticated matrons or lowly prostitutes, as the Virgin Mary or Jezebel. Cornforth seems to fall into the latter category while Wilding falls into the former, at least in how Rossetti depicted them, and this makes his alteration of Lady Lilith all the more interesting because it stands out from the conventions he created around Wilding.

In the poem I also alluded to the sad reality that Cornforth went mad, was forced into a workhouse her sister-in-law, gradually losing her memory, becoming unable to carry on conversations, and finally living the last years of her life in an insane asylum. She died at age 74. As Rossetti’s muse and mistress, Cornforth went from being a celebrated muse and model, living in lush life to basically being exploited and eventually abandoned to her own insanity. As the original model for Lady Lilith, this somewhat echoed the fate of the mythological Lilith’s exile from the garden of Eden.

Alexa Wilding‘s own fate was just as tragic. She died around the age of 37, half the age of Cornforth, due to peritonitis and extreme exhaustion. While Cornforth had been voluptuous and represented the physical world and the body to Rossetti, Wilding’s depictions were more spiritual and ethereal, and she may have been seen as his ideal model, often embodying the soul itself. Rossetti’s last painting of Wilding was begun when she was only 27 and completed four years later. She would eventually be replaced as his muse by Jane Morris. He would die in 1882, just two years before Wilding in 1884, and she was said to place wreathes on the site of his grave.

John William Waterhouse has long been one of my favorite artists because his paintings are so nuanced and his subject matter so alluring, intellectually as well as aesthetically. It seemed appropriate to revisit his work as one list cannot possibly encompass the extensive catalog of paintings that are his legacy. Following in the footsteps of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, J. W. Waterhouse turned towards classical Graeco-Roman mythology and medieval fables (particularly Arthurian legends which he delved into repeatedly) for his inspiration. This subject matter resulted in images that were not only beautiful, but also infused with the iconic archetypes found in all European lore, giving them a timeless quality that has enabled Waterhouse to grow in popularity over the years. His work was emblematic of the latter Victorian Era, though he was not as widely recognized as other artists during that period that worked in similar movements, and yet today his oeuvre is quite celebrated for its idealized depictions of feminine beauty.

“Pandora” (1896)

“The Magic Circle” (1886)

“Ophelia” (1889)

“La Belle Dame sans Merci” (1893)

“Ulysses and the Sirens” (1891)

“Miranda – The Tempest” (1916)

“Boreas” (1903)

“‘I Am Half Sick of Shadows,’ Said the Lady of Shalott” (1915)

“Windflowers” (1902)

“Flora and the Zephyrs” (1897)

“The Lady of Shalott Looking at Lancelot” (1894)

“A Study for ‘A Mermaid'” (1892)

: “Pandora” (1896)

: “The Magic Circle” (1886)

: “Ophelia” (1889)

: “La Belle Dame sans Merci” (1893)

: “Ulysses and the Sirens” (1891)

: “Miranda – The Tempest” (1916)

: “Boreas” (1903)

: “‘I Am Half Sick of Shadows,’ Said the Lady of Shalott” (1915)

: “Windflowers” (1902)

: “Flora and the Zephyrs” (1897)

: “The Lady of Shalott Looking at Lancelot” (1894)

: “A Study for ‘A Mermaid'” (1892)

It is in some ways a bit funny that when many of us think of the Pre-Raphaelite movement, we often first recall the works of the latter Pre-Raphaelites and the artists associated with them, rather than the actual Brotherhood that began the movement in the early second half of the 19th Century. Many of the latter-day artists, such as Burne-Jones and Waterhouse, have become as synonymous with the movement as its founders like Rossetti or Millais, and to me that is all the more impressive a testament to their work. Edward Coley Burne-Jones‘ works were more heavily influenced by Medieval legends and ancient myth, and he was not confined to just the medium of paint on canvas, as he explored other venues of expression in painted and stained glass, chintzes and tapestries, and set design and decoration for the stage. As his work matured and he grew artistically, he showed a deep and abiding affinity for narrative art, creating entire series inspired by Sleeping Beauty, Perseus and the Gorgon, and Pygmalion. The darkly sensuous imagery he conjured from his imagination has become as immortal as the myths and legends that he idolized in his youth.

“The Beguiling of Merlin” (1874)

“The Depths of the Sea” (1887)

“The Tree of Forgiveness” (1881-1882)

“The Doom Fulfilled” (1885-1888)

“The Three Graces” (circa 1873)

“The Rose Bower” (1890)

“The Godhead Fires” (1878)

“King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid” (1884)

“The Golden Stairs” (1890)

“The Adoration of the Magi” (1888-1894)

“The Rock of Doom” (1885-1888)

“Phyllis and Demophoön” (1870)

: “The Beguiling of Merlin” (1874)

: “The Depths of the Sea” (1887)

: “The Tree of Forgiveness” (1881-1882)

: “The Doom Fulfilled” (1885-1888)

: “The Three Graces” (circa 1873)

: “The Rose Bower” (1890)

: “The Godhead Fires” (1878)

: “King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid” (1884)

: “The Golden Stairs” (1890)

: “The Adoration of the Magi” (1888-1894)

: “The Rock of Doom” (1885-1888)

: “Phyllis and Demophoön” (1870)

Drawing inspiration from mid 19th Century art movements like The Pre-Raphaelites, and from late 18th Century Romanticism, John Atkinson Grimshaw created indelible images that are imbued with Victorian Era ideals. Innocence. Romance. Beauty. These simple aesthetic tropes of the times are permeated throughout Grimshaw’s work. Whether depicting Gothic manors or urban streets lit by moonlight, faeries soaring through the night or ships in the harbor, Grimshaw’s paintings are almost photo-realistic and yet simultaneously elevated by his imaginative lighting and saturated by his use of Earth tones. Little is known about Grimshaw as a man, and little more is known about him as an artist, but his work on the other hand is quite recognizable even to those outside the art community. Our modern notion of what Dickensian London was like has been greatly influenced by Grimshaw’s work, which itself is just as timeless and unforgettable as the writings of Dickens.

“Spirit of the Night” (1879)

“Silver Moonlight” (1880)

“Dame Autumn Has a Mournful Face” (1871)

“Blackman Street, London” (1885)

“Whitby Harbor by Moonlight” (1867)

“Iris” (1886)

“London Bridge – Night” (1884)

“A Moonlit Lane” (1874)

“The Lady of Shalott – Version II” (1878)

“Whitby Docks” (1876)

“Reflections on the Thames, Westminster” (1880)

“The Lady of Shalott – Version I” (circa 1875)

: “Spirit of the Night” (1879)

: “Dame Autumn Has a Mournful Face” (1871)

: “Blackman Street, London” (1885)

: “Whitby Harbor by Moonlight” (1867)

: “Iris” (1886)

: “London Bridge – Night” (1884)

: “A Moonlit Lane” (1874)

: “The Lady of Shalott – Version II” (1878)

: “Whitby Docks” (1876)

: “Reflections on the Thames, Westminster” (1880)

: “The Lady of Shalott – Version I” (circa 1875)

My Favorite Artists and Their Art: Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Posted by SeanMChase on December 25, 2012

Posted in: Culture, My Favorite Artists and Their Art, Mythology, Uncategorized. Tagged: Art, Arthurian Legends, Artists, Artwork, Culture, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Feminine Beauty, My Favorite Artists and Their Art, Mythology, Pre-Raphaelites, Victorian Era. 1 Comment

Poet. Painter. Illustrator. Translator. There are many labels which could be ascribed to Dante Gabriel Rossetti. I think of him most often as an aesthetic idealist and as the leading figure in the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. His artwork evokes all the medieval pageantry, love and yearning, and lyricism of a troubadour’s song. Drawing from a small number of beatific models from the Pre-Raphaelite movement, such as Lizzie Siddal, Jane Morris, Alexa Wilding, and Fanny Cornforth, Rossetti created an iconic gallery of ethereal women; some callous and detached, some angelic and graceful, but all stunningly rendered by his skillful hand. Of all the 19th Century artists, he remains among my favorites.

“Lady Lilith” (1868)

“Beata Beatrix” (1864-1872)

“The Damsel of the Sanct Grael” (1874)

“Sibylla Palmifera” (1866-1870)

“Astarte Syriaca” (1877)

“Proserpine” (1874)

“The Salutation of Beatrice” (1869)

“Alexa Wilding” (1877)

“Veronica Veronese” (1872)

“Venus Verticordia” (1864-1868)

: “Lady Lilith” (1868)

: “Beata Beatrix” (1864-1872)

: “The Damsel of the Sanct Grael” (1874)

: “Sibylla Palmifera” (1866-1870)

: “Astarte Syriaca” (1877)

: “Proserpine” (1874)

: “The Salutation of Beatrice” (1869)

: “Alexa Wilding” (1877)

: “Veronica Veronese” (1872)

: “Venus Verticordia” (1864-1868)

Controversial Masterpieces: Censorship Of Classical Art From The Renaissance Through The 19th Century
Whether the church’s chiseling the genitalia off of ancient statues or painting over blasphemous elements in a mural, art has been a contested territory, and there has been a long history of suppressing art that challenged the social mores of its day or expressed ideas deemed as obscene or heretical. Perhaps because art existed before the written word, before most other physical mediums of expression, it could be argued that art was the first form of communication outside of verbal speech to be censored. In the world of art, censorship often takes on three forms, either a work of art is expurgated (altered to exclude content that may offend), removed from public view, or destroyed altogether. The latter is rare since most cultures around the world hold art in high esteem and don’t wish to see its destruction regardless of its perceived objectionable qualities. Expurgation or obscurement has been more common.
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I’ve been a great admirer of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and their artistic style for a very long time now. Of all the artists associated with the movement, I think that John William Waterhouse is probably my favorite. This is partly because Waterhouse was consistently brilliant in his creation of evocative scenes inspired by mythology, historical legend, and classic literature. However, while this aspect of his art appeals to me on an intellectual level, I find myself also drawn in by the delicate sense of bittersweet romance and unrequited love on an emotional level. Waterhouse created images of women who were more than mortal women. They are beautiful, seductive, and melancholy representations of our collective longings manifested on the canvas of a master. Waterhouse was one of the last Pre-Raphaelite artists and yet his work overshadows many of the lesser known artists of the movement who came before him.