Review: The Rossettis at Tate Britain

 It's been a bit of a month, hence the peace and quiet you have enjoyed from my rambling. However, a lot has gone on in the meantime, so I have to do a flurry of posts on three different exhibitions and a book!  I also turned 50, which is painful.  Let's move on because first up is possibly the most hotly anticipated exhibition of the year, The Rossettis!

The Rossettis!  At Tate Britain!

I was lucky enough to attend the private view for this exhibition on my birthday, which made the whole 50 thing a lot less wretched and meant I got to spend the evening in the company of some marvellous chums (both on canvas and in real life) with my partner in crime, Miss Holman...

So what is the exhibition about? Well, obviously it's about the Rossetti family, but most pertinently Dante Gabriel, Christina and Elizabeth (a Rossetti by marriage). Now, William Michael and Lucy (another Rossetti by marriage) also get a look-in, as do the other members of the Rossetti clan, but honestly, it's about Gabriel, Liz and Chrissy.  And Fanny.  I'll come to that in a bit...

How Sir Galahad, Sir Bors and Sir Percival... (1864) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The Haunted Wood (1856) Elizabeth Siddal

Let's start at the beginning, and the beginning is actually poetry.  As you enter the first room of the exhibition, there are spots on the floor where you can stand and hear the Rossetti poetry being murmured to you (if you aren't at a rather rambunctious opening that is).  I think as a nation, we have rather forgotten how much we love poetry and value poets, which is odd as we love songs (which are just sing-y poems).  However, the fame that both the Rossetti siblings found as poets still has a punch, with Christina especially reminding us what a powerful poet she was and how influential and inspirational, not least to her brother.  In turn, we have her poem 'In an Artist's Studio' which speaks of the 'one face' that looks out of the canvases and it is hard not to apply that as a criticism to her brother's works. Into all this comes Elizabeth Siddal (whether you give her one 'l' or two is an entire conversation in itself).  Her career and progression is placed in the context of the Rossetti family and it is joyful to see her works on display in such a grouping as it makes sense of her contribution and why, even as late as the 1940s, she was considered such a prominent Pre-Raphaelite. I think we can now agree that Miss Siddal has found her place in the narrative and it is marvellous to see.  Almost as marvellous as this room...

Lawks, but I gasped! That astonishing wallpaper is the realisation of a design by Rossetti and it takes your breath away. However, the object I was most intent on stealing has to be that painted piece...

You know me, I've always been one for a sizeable cabinet, and this beauty is the work of Ford Madox Brown, Edward Burne-Jones, William Morris, Val Prinsep, John Seddon and Rossetti from 1861.  I was especially drawn to this panel, I wonder why...

Yes, Fanny.  I was so excited when I heard that Fanny was going to get a hearing in the great Rossetti story. As I have banged on about for the last thirty years, Fanny is a difficult one to slot into any dignified story without making everything messy but there is a marvellous amount of slotting (in an artistic sense) here, as Fanny explains a few things about Rossetti which aren't otherwise apparent.  That leads me to Found...

Found (1854-1882) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Found (1870s) Rossetti and Henry Treffry Dunn

Just as a side note, you have no doubt seen the predicatably awful review from Jonathan Jones in the Guardian and it was his comments on Found and Fanny that made me snigger the hardest. He sneeringly points out that Rossetti was rubbish because he kept painting Found with Fanny looking 'sensual' (more tea, Vicar?) which completely undermines the meaning of the piece.  Yes, Love, that's the point or did you not notice that it was unfinished?  Dear me, it must be awful to have to feel superior to everything all the time. How exhausting, poor lamb.  Anyway, Fanny is really looking splendid in this section, with her face gracing Bocca Baciata, Fazio's Mistress and Fair Rosamund.  I won't rhapsodise too much but the fact that Fanny is included and makes the Rossetti narrative messy is a joy to me. In this context, Fanny represents growth and change, none of it easy, and she leads us through to the glorious room of colour, that heralds Rossetti's golden years of oils and pastels - now I know the pastel era isn't there for good reasons, what with his health declining and everything, but that man was good with chalk...

Ligeia Siren (1873) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Blimey, Alexa! There are some gorgeous pieces in the long room of Rossetti's canvases and Alexa Wilding becomes the face of this period, although obviously Mrs Morris is present too...

Jane Morris (1868) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

There is a feeling of both simplicity and concern in the final few room, beautifully illustrated by the final room which has a wall projection of Ken Russell's Dante's Inferno.  The regular, beautiful works that represent the last 10-15 years of Rossetti's life mask the crisis he was undergoing, but seen together you notice the way he shows Jane, which is different to how he sees Alexa. Do I read too much in because of what we now know about his chloral addiction?  It's impossible not to but in his cascade of full-lipped beauties it is not hard to see him looking for someone, or being haunted by someone.  It is very moving indeed.

Monna Pomona (1864) Dante Gabriel Rossetti
(Miss Holman's favourite)

I was always going to love it, and you will too.  It's a different way of looking at a talented family and makes you appreciate how much of their work we enjoy, without having to bring too much biography into it.  The lightness of touch on that front will probably relieve many and does mean you can look at the works without being overly worried about who was sleeping with whom or taking what drug at the time. The deep dives into things like 'Goblin Market' and The Beloved add real depth to the show and you leave very happy (or in our case, going back through about three times because things mesh together so beautifully you end up revisiting pieces with a variety of perspectives.)  You have until the end of September thank goodness, so I think a long summer of Rossetti goodness is on the cards for us all.Obviously, there is a catalogue for the show, although it's actually a book of essays on the subjects raised rather than a straight reproduction of the show in book form, which is smashing and offers longevity to the work. With essays by such people as Jan Marsh (on Elizabeth Siddal), Wendy Parkins (on Jane Morris) and Dinah Roe (on Christina Rossetti), it is a collection of new looks at familiar subjects and is a fascinating and beautifully illustrated read. I bought the £30 paperback as I had to carry it home on the train and it is corking.

So, I will be back tomorrow with another Rossetti-related review, but I'm actually sure that I'm preaching to the choir with this one and if you are able, you'll be there.  And you won't be disappointed.