Wednesday 4th December - A Girl with a Cat

 I'm hoping to finish Christmas shopping today, for which I apologise if that sounds frightfully organised.  It has been the sort of year where I just wanted some distraction so got on with it early.  Pity me though, as I have teenage boys to buy for today. Lordy.  Let's crack on...

Of the two of them, Mr Pibblesworth was definitely the more stylish

I was hoping for something a bit Pre-Raphaelite on the cat front, and no doubt I will bring you some actual Pre-Raphs this month (although I can only think of the dogs at present) however, I know I have some Pre-Raphaelite adjacent cats which are possibly some of my favourites, including this one...

A Girl with a Cat (1860) Robert Braithwaite Martineau

I feel I don't talk enough about Robert Braithwaite Martineau, possibly because his name is so long and quite difficult to type right on the first attempt. Also, he is definitely Pre-Raphaelite adjacent, just as the Brotherhood were dissolving, so his really beautiful art gets lost among a lot of gorgeous stuff. The same can be said of William Shakespeare Burton, who I often mix him up with in my head.  I digress because this is a crackingly beautiful image of a little girl grappling a hacked off looking cat in order to be painted.  It reminds me quite a bit of something Holman Hunt would have done, but without eye-ball-y and intense. I feel Martineau's girl and cat are far more sane, than this one for example...

Tuscan Girl Plaiting Straw (1869) William Holman Hunt

I often feel that HH's people are staring at me like I've done something appalling, which is fair comment. I can see quite a few similarities between the two girls, and in fact Holman Hunt's was created the year Martineau died of heart disease, aged only 43. Both girls are wearing garments with pronounced patterns which add a layer of texture to the pieces.  I love Martineau's shiny flared sleeve, spilling from the more austere striped pinafore. The scene behind both girls is busy, but in Martineau's case we can see the garden of a farm, the hayrick beyond a wall and the leaded windows letting in the sunshine. She is cuddling the farm cat, a busy working cat, who has too many things to kill to be putting up with this art nonsense.  Just as an aside, despite the fact that I rescued, feed and care for our cat, the only person Chairman Meow will allow to cuddle him for any length of time is Mr Walker. Not that I'm bitter.

The Poor Actress's Christmas Dinner (c.1860)

I think I actually know more of Martineau's work than I imagine I do, if you know what I mean.  Especially poignant at this time of year is his wonderful, unfinished The Poor Actress's Christmas Dinner, where a very beautiful, but downcast young woman looks at her Christmas pudding in what appears to be despair. I share the sentiment at times, especially as last Christmas's dinner was extraordinarily stressful and by the time we reached pudding I might have been tempted to set fire to things too. I know it isn't intentional but the fact that only her face and the pudding are finished makes me feel like she is concentrating on this moment of pleasure and luxury, while the rest of her life feels incomplete and coming apart.

I'm off to do battle with the shops, so have a smashing day and I'll catch you tomorrow...