Come on, Feel the Noyes

 Occasionally, Mr Walker, in his infinite wisdom, will say to me 'what do you know about so-and-so?' Now, normally I can give him something, after all these years we have been doing this nonsense, you and me both will have heard of an awful lot of artists.  However, on occasions, I must quietly admit, I come up entirely blank.  These are the moments Mr Walker give an evil chuckle as he knows he won't hear a word out of me until I know everything and he at least will get a bit of peace and quiet for a change.  So, thanks to Mr Walker, here is a post on Theodora Joan Noyes...

Portrait of a Lady in Black (c.1900)

Theodora, or Dora, Noyes (1864-1960) was the twelfth and last child born to Samuel (1820-1890) and Charlotte Noyes (1820-1896). Samuel was a solicitor, so I'm assuming they could afford the large family and a surprising number of the children lived very long lives. After Samuel and Charlotte's marriage in 1845, their offspring were Charlotte jnr (1846-1929), Harry (1848-1917), John (1849-1864), Mary (1851-1949), Edward (1853-1921), Charles and Frederick (1854-1877, yes, we'll come to that), Herbert (1855-1879), Katherine (1858-1930), Robert (1859-1923) and Margaret (1863-1949), followed finally by Dora.  John died in his teens, and the twins and Herbert in their early 20s, but I was surprised by how some of the sisters lived into their 90s.  I'm always blown away by how much must have changed in their lives, for example Dora was born before Rossetti met Alexa Wilding and by the time she died, we were headed for the moon. Flipping heck! I digress. Let's start from the beginning...

Dora was born in Harrow-on-the-Hill in Middlesex, just outside London.  The family seem to have lived in London for a while with the eldest children being born in Belgravia and Mayfair (which tells you how wealthy they were) before moving out in around 1849 to the village of Harrow-on-the-Hill. The family seems to have moved around a bit more, all to very nice addresses, before moving back to Hanover Square in Mayfair in time for Dora to attend the Lambeth School of Art.

Students drawing from a model at Lambeth (c.1910)

There is a very helpful piece on Lambeth in the Every Woman's Encyclopedia from around 1910, which reports that Lambeth School of Art opened in 1860, built on the site of the old Vauxhall Gardens and by the time Dora attended in 1880, there had already been the likes of Charles Shannon and Stanhope Forbes as pupils (although Shannon might well have been there around the same time as Dora). Dora received the third grade prize and the book prize for drawing from life but also excelled at lace work, embroidery, spinning and weaving. She also attended art academies abroad, including a spell in Paris, as well as the RA school. I have to admit that the majority of the information I have about her early life comes from her obituary as, despite being very successful as we will see, she kept a distinctly low profile. I actually learned from that excellent publication Building News that Dora won a medal from the Royal Academy of Art school for drawing of a statue or group and £10 for a drawing of a statue or group executed within the year in the Academy.

Just a pause in her career here to point out that although Dora was only one year old when her brother John died in 1864, she was 12 when the twins Frederick and Charles died within 2 weeks of each other, which must have been a massive shock. I was hoping for some illumination in the newspapers but there is nothing so I'm guessing it was either a shared illness or one died and the other died of a broken twin heart. This was followed 2 years later by the death of a third brother, Herbert, over in Admedabad in India. He had been a Captain in the 10th regiment of the BNLI and died of cholera.  By the 1881 census, brother Edward was in the Ceylon Civil Service, with Harry working as a solicitor like his Dad and Robert as a solicitor's articled clerk, all very legal.  None of the daughters had any sort of occupation apart from being a wealthy man's daughter, nice work if you can get it. Moving on...

Dora debuted at the May Royal Academy exhibition in 1883 as Miss Dora Noyes of West Hill, Southfields, exhibiting two paintings, An Old Fatalist, an oil painting and A Study in the etchings, drawings and engravings gallery. The next year she was back with another oil, Phillis. At this point, me and Dora are going to have a little chat as when she returned to the RA in 1887, she was listed as Miss T Noyes in the index (not helpful), having moved to Trafalgar Studios in Chelsea, showing Noonday. This was the piece that got her attention, as the Magazine of Art reported  'a good study of a peasant girl somewhat in the manner of Mr Clausen is shown by Miss Theodora Noyes ... Here the modelling is not so sound as the drawing, but the colour is very pleasing and the landscape is broadly presented and cleverly subordinated to the figure.'

In 1889, Dora is listed as living at 18 Finborough Road and that year she had three oil paintings in the RA's May exhibition, Sea Poppies, Santa Lucia and The Year's At The Spring. Despite this splendid effort, she garnered absolutely no press whatsoever. We're also a bit early for those everso helpful books of pictures which are on Archive.org, so we'll have to wait a few more years for her not to appear in them either. Her 1890 RA paintings were Miss Noyes which I'm guessing is one of her sisters, and The Old Miniature, again neither of which I have to give you, but I'm wondering if the former remained in the family.  

A Rest by the Wayside (Resting at the Gate) (1891)

A year later, she was back with three more paintings; A Rest by the Wayside, Mrs Cecil St John Mildmay, and Autumn Pastures. She also appeared at the Dudley Gallery in the exhibition of the New English art club with Poppies, which the Queen magazine called 'delightfully clever' and the Illustrated London News praised for its splendours and difficulties. Her painting A Rest by the Wayside also sold for £31/10s, the equivalent of around £2,500 today. The Lady's Pictorial praised its excellent qualities being 'very well drawn and natural in action.' The Bath Chronicle likewise praised the painting recognising its modern French influence.

A quick note about her family situation, as both Samuel and Charlotte snr had died by this point, meaning that in the 1891 census Harry had become the head of the house, with sister Mary (living on own means) and Theodora (Sculpt. Artist), all living on Warwick Street, Belgravia (actually alarmingly close to Piccadilly Circus and so it looks like a hellscape these days, no doubt still horrifically expensive.)

Two at a Stile (1894)

In the autumn of 1892, Dora exhibited "I was a Stranger and ye took me in" in Liverpool (shown again in 1893 at the RA), described as being a scene where an elderly couple find a faint girl clinging to their wall. The RA exhibition of May 1893 also included Hayraking, and Summer-time but the narrative piece was definitely the star of the show. Similar to Rest by the Wayside, her 1894 painting Two at a Stile also was popular choice at the RA, due to the quiet narrative of the rural couple and their possible romance.  She also had Apple Trees and A Hedonist in the May exhibition but it was the couple and the stile that got the press interest. Dora moved out of London to Salisbury in Wiltshire during 1894, listing her address in the 1895 RA catalogue as Milston, just outside Salisbury in Wiltshire.  Here she was inspired to paint Wiltshire Weeds, one of paintings in the RA that year, as well as a portrait of a child, Hester. 

Interestingly, her 1896 RA entry Miss Gina Goldingham received absolutely no press coverage that I can find and I don't know who Gina was, which also might have contributed to the lack of interest. Likewise, despite having two paintings in the RA in 1897, The Enchanted Hour and Peace, the press were disappointingly quiet, which is a shame as I really want to know what The Enchanted Hour was all about. However, in 1898 she exhibited a painting called The Queen's Jubilee, I'm guessing for Victoria's Diamond Jubilee the year before, which the Black and White journal declared to be one of their pictures of the year. The end of the century also began one of the reasons why Dora has been overlooked as an artist - she became a very accomplished illustrator. 1899 saw the publication of Frith and Allen's The Science of Palmistry, which can be viewed here. 

The Silent Life (1900)

In 1900, Dora showed The Silent Life at the Royal Academy, which the Lady's Pictorial called 'quiet and effective'. It reminds me very much of Charles Collins' Convent Thoughts or Eleanor Fortescue Brickdale's image of Guinevere in her nun garb. I think it is likely it was inspired by her eldest sister Charlotte who had become a Sister of Mercy at the All Saints Convent in St Albans. Dora was back in 1901 with a portrait of the children of someone called Rex Howell, but she was also illustrating her sister Ella's book on the Saints of Italy. The Scotsman's verdict was 'Thus the Old Masters are interpreted for the young misses, and the Golden Legend suitable alloyed for the practical purposes of spirited commerce in a pious nursery.' May all your nurseries be pious...

Illustration of the Palazzo Il Moro from The Story of Ferrara

Briefly, Dora moved down to Torquay and in 1903 exhibited Miss Jane Helen Findlater who may be the novelist Jane Findlater who worked with her sister, much like Dora and Ella. The following year, Ella and Dora published The Story of Ferrara (which you can see here) As it is quite difficult to find the sisters at this point on census, I wondered if they were travelling in order to research their subjects.  In 1905, the sisters produced another 'travel' book, The Casentino and its Story, which was marketed as a half-guinea colour book.

Ella and Dora's books were the source of the majority of the press that Dora received as she seems to have turned her back on the London art scene. Their follow up was much closer to home with the publication of Salisbury Plain: It's Stones, Cathedral, City, Villages and Folk in 1913...

Haymakers from Salisbury Plain (1913)

The Pall Mall Gazette praised the work, including Dora's 'altogether charming' illustrations and concluded their review with 'This book is one which calls for no stint in praise.'

I find it interesting when researching these posts that you can see how the newspaper mentions start to dwindle after a certain point, only to revive on the death of the subject for a brief moment.  In a way, it can be quite sobering to see how someone has a moment of relevance, of note, then slips from the collective memory.  Dora continued to live with her sisters Mary and Ella, and a couple of servants, in Sutton Veny in Wiltshire, where she would live out her life. By 1921, only Dora lists an occupation in the census, that of artist, while Ella replies that she is not occupied for a living. By the 1939, all sisters are listed as 'living on own means.' A decade later, Margaret and Ella died within weeks of each other which reminded me of the twins, leaving Dora alone.  Margaret died at 98 and Ella at 85, and when Dora died in 1960, she was 95, fondly remembered in the local press as one of the oldest inhabitants of Sutton Veny. Her probate amount was a very respectable £22,406.

A Ploughing Scene (1895)

Arguably, Dora lived a long time without being famous, having all but given up work before the First World War, so maybe it is understandable that she was all but forgotten by the time of her death in 1960.  One problem that Miss Dora Noyes has is living and working for a large part of her career in London, which as we know from this post, does you no good at all. If you are a RA artist from a small town, or even a city outside London, the local press will make a massive deal about you. Dora received mentions for some of her pictures but the sheer quantities she was submitting really deserved more notice. The alternation of her name between Dora and Theodora might seem petty but when it becomes Miss D Noyes and Miss T Noyes you can see how people might not have realised it was the same person.  She also has no paintings in national collections, which probably hinders her rediscovery because if Mr Walker had not said 'have you ever heard of Dora Noyes?' I probably would not have looked her up either.  Mr Walker found out about Dora via an auctioneer.  It was a shrewd contact as Merton Russell-Cotes went out of his way to collect female artists (if I was being cynical, because they were cheaper) so she would be a perfect fit for the collection but I fear Miss Noyes and her ilk get stuck in between being exceptional quality, so worth £50K but not being well known enough to attract that initial interest. Hopefully that will change as what little work we have access to is so beautiful that  it would be nice to see some more.

While we merrily gallop to celebrate female artists of the nineteenth and early twentieth century, Dora Noyes reminds me that we have to be able to see them before we can cheer for them and like Dora, I bet there are so many more amazing painters who are waiting, unseen.

Miss Mab Paul is Too Good at Kissing

 I seem to begin every post at the moment with 'This is going to be a bit ramble-y/cross' but I promise I'm not intentionally in my Grumpy Era.  However, saying that, this one is going to a bit ramble-y and grumpy. Sorry in advance.  I'm also writing this in order to sort out how I feel about the use of young girls in art. Yikes.

Look Out! Teen Knockers Alert! (Allegedly)

I'm sure we all remember the 2018 controversy over the removal of Hylas and the Nymphs (1896) by John William Waterhouse from the walls of Manchester Art Gallery.  Depending on who you believed, it was due to the objectification of women (crikey, there will be nothing left on the walls of most museums that this rate!) or raising awareness of how young the models were (without any actual proof that the models were young or not acting with what agency they had etc etc) or just because they fancied a shufty round of some paintings and a bit of controversy is always fun. Well, while I roll my eyes at most of this because it is a crap way to have a conversation, I was particularly miffed that we can't seemingly have a nuanced conversation about Victorians and woman/girls without imposing what we think we know all over it.  Also, this is not a good painting to use if you want to tak about women/agency/girls stuff etc as it is literally a painting of a bunch of girl-sprites about to murder a bloke because they can, and they suffer absolutely no repercussions at all.  Yay! Girl Power! I do beg your pardon, how very naught of them.  Anyway, I think there is a conversation to be had about how we view art works and more essentially the men who paint them, and possibly a good place to start is Miss Mab Paul...

Mab Paul (c.1905)

As you can see from this postcard of Miss Paul, she was an actress at the turn of the 20th century, hence my interest in her. However, before there was Mab Paul, there was Mabel Hall, artist's model, hence my very great interest in her indeed. Mabel was the third daughter of Richard Hall and Frances Paul (hence the adoption of 'Paul' as her stage name).  Richard and Frances had married in the late 1870s and were comfortably middle class, showing up in the 1881 census living in Kensington, Richard engaged as a Verger. For some reason (no doubt ecclesiastical) by the time Mabel was born in 1882, the family were out in the colonies and little Mabel entered the world in Uttar Pradesh in India. The family had returned by 1887 when Richard jnr was born (in London) and Daddy Hall had moved from the clergy to running a club of some sort. He was also a Chelsea Pensioner, so I'm not entirely sure I can work out his working life at all, but the family all seemed to do okay, and during the 1890s Mabel and her elder sister Edith (b.1878) had become artists' models. I'm going to ease you in slowly, as it gets a bit dodgy. Let's start with John Collier...

The Laboratory (1895) John Collier

Mabel is 13 years old. The painting was fairly well received, although it was felt by some newspapers to be a bit old-fashioned.  Mabel was referred to as the 'fair visitant" purchasing poison (according to The Gentlewoman) or the 'imperious beauty' who wishes to kill her rival (according to the Evening Star).  So, how do we feel about 13 year old Mabel? Hold that thought...

Lady Godiva (1897) John Collier

Have we all done our maths?  Good.  This is 15 year old Mabel (I'm being generous as I'm guessing this was painted when she was 14) naked on a horse. The Coleshill Chronicle called the painting 'frigid and prosaic' which is a bit rude. The London Evening Standard saw that this Lady G was very young, which is something, and they felt that she was charmingly painted, but no-one raised the question whether or not this child should have been naked on a horse in the first place.

The Prodigal Daughter (1903) John Collier

Also, John Collier gives us Mabel in a very dramatic piece.  Aged 21, Mabel is the prodigal daughter, returning to shock her parents in her frankly awesome dress. I wonder if this was a response to the fact that Mabel had indeed taken to the stage by this point, but I'll come back to that as Mr Collier wasn't Mabel's only employer...

Mabel Hall and Ethel Warwick (c.1899) Edward Linley Sambourne

I came across Mabel first when looking at Ethel Warwick's time with Edward Linley Sambourne.  I obviously wanted to know more about this girl that Ethel posed with. Ethel and Mabel were the same age, both 16-17 in this image.  I have chosen my images carefully for this bit, as I will explain.

Mabel Hall (1900) Edward Linley Sambourne

I have such complicated feelings about Sambourne and his photographs.  I must at this point say that the staff at Sambourne's house are amazing and have been no end of help with my investigations into Ethel's time with Sambourne.  I do need to tread very carefully and pick my words.  To start with, Mabel began modelling for Sambourne in January 1899 when, as he wrote in his diary, she was 16 years old, 'very elegant' and 'very tall'.  According to the excellent catalogues Public Artist, Private Passions, Sambourne (born in 1844, so just shy of 40 years older than Mabel) was definitely smitten by his teen models, although he did them no harm that we know of and provided these working class young women with a safe and comfortable living.  I have a lot of questions about the Camera Club in London, founded in 1885, as the majority of Sambourne's naked teen images are taken there.  Also, the above image of Mabel on her own is one of a pair where she is naked in exactly the same pose. I also have questions about why he needed images of the girls naked in the same poses as when they were dressed.  Don't say it is for artistic reasons because we all know it isn't.

Mab(el) in 1902

Like many of Sambourne's girls, Mabel did not remain long in his employ, and like Ethel Warwick, she headed for the stage.  Mabel Hall became Mab Paul, and whilst posing for Sambourne in 1900, she was also treading the boards in Plymouth, selling chocolates at a charity performance at the Theatre Royal. By 1902, Mab had a beautiful full page photograph in The Sketch (above) for her role in Ulysses at Her Majesty's Theatre in London, which also appeared in Tatler. Collier actually painted 'Mab Paul' in 1901 while she was performing in Beau Austin in Henley...

Mab Paul (1901) John Collier, from the Tatler

My favourite review of Mab's acting is from The Stage in June 1902 when she appeared in the comedy Lord of His House.  Whilst the paper liked Mab's performance, they felt that she might 'wisely tone down the kissing...young women may act so, but I think that a gentleman of refinement would want to back out if he found that the young lady who a moment before was "Miss Jones" is permitting him to kiss her décolletée, shoulders and giving hearty busses on the mouth.' Well, that's us told.  Sorry Mab, you are just too good at snogging.

Mab, c.1910

A bit like Ethel Warwick, Mab made her way over to Australia to perform around 1910, and remained there until at least 1916 when she seems to have vanished.  I am currently waiting for a couple of books on Australian theatre of this period, but if anyone has any knowledge about how there was seemingly such an easy transition from the West End to Sydney, I'd be delighted to have a chat.  A few people seem to have her death date in the 1930s but as I don't know if she married, I can't find that out. I hope she had a long and happy life, but knowing my luck probably not. However, what we can say is that her career began at 14 and her experience as an artist's model, no matter how young, enabled her to progress into the theatre.

Mab, in the Sporting and Dramatic News, 1903

So, I think my point is we need to have a nuanced conversation about girls in art. I feel very differently looking at Collier's Lady Godiva and one of Sambourne's nudes, but should I? Especially when you consider that Collier was drawing a literal schoolgirl for his naked lady (she was at Honeywell Road School in 1895) whereas Sambourne does not seem to have employed a girl below 16. Both Collier and Sambourne were much older than Mabel and were producing works that would be consumed by older men, so should we feel protective? Arguably, Collier's art output was entirely for public consumption, but how do we know?  We only know that Sambourne took and kept the nude images independent of his cartoons because there is an archive of them. If we are outraged and remove a painting just because a girl is 14 years old, we are ignoring the fact girls worked in the adult world at 14.  My grandmothers were both working away from home at that age, most probably in jobs that paid less than what Mab was getting from Messrs Collier and Sambourne.  I think my point is that a 14 year old working-class girl had agency to earn money and by hiding paintings, historians are indulging in benevolent sexism, wishing to protect girls who arguably do not need protecting. As far as we know, Sambourne, creepy though I find him, did no-one any harm.  The exploitation that Collier, Sambourne or their ilk indulged in was entirely intellectual - the girls had no say in the way their image was used (or abused) after it was taken, but I very much doubt that either of these men considered what they did to be exploitative.  If Waterhouse (to go back to the ravenous nymphs) really did pay a bevy 14 year old girls to pose naked in a duck pond for his painting, he was paying them.  They could equally be paid possibly less money to work long hours in physically exhausting conditions. At least no-one got an arm ripped off in a loom while posing as Lady Godiva.

Mab in Ulysses, 1902

So, in conclusion, we need to separate our modern sensibilities from the realities of life as a working class person in the nineteenth century when looking at the art of the Pre-Raphaelites and their followers.  To remove a painting off a wall because you feel the subjects are being exploited is negating the work of those girls who received a wage for their time.  Just because you feel squeamish seeing a 14 year old naked, it doesn't mean you get to cover up the agency she had to go out their and earn her money.  Also, branding every male artist that employed a 14 year old model as some sort of predatory animal is also problematic.  We can talk about the power imbalance, we can talk about how uncomfortable it makes us feel, but in the end we should admit that how we feel doesn't have supremacy over historic reality and young female agency. One thing is for certain, shoving it in a cupboard isn't going to help.

A Thruple, a Lemur and a Thigh Tattoo

 Whilst researching, I also seem to have moments of thinking 'Well, that's bonkers, I really want to tell someone about that!' but unfortunately most people I know are fairly sane and strangly uninterested in who some random woman in a painting was, or how many servants an artist had.  I know, it's unbelievable that someone wouldn't be gripped by that, but here we are. So, luckily I have you, my dear readers, who I couldn't wait to share this with, and just for a change, it won't make you too angry.

As you will undoubtedly remember, from this post, I love it when people reference (or outright copy) Pre-Raphaelite paintings in photographs.  This image of The Bridesmaid still makes me smile as it is wonderful.

And you will also remember from this post, there was a fascination to recreate Victorian paintings in photos at around the turn of the century, as in the 1894 article about whether a photo could be as effective as the painting it was based on.  I also knew this came out of a tradition of tableaux vivants which were from the medieval period but very popular in the 19th century and featured people recreating a scene or painting in a static manner.  The difference between this and poses plastiques is very little but in the latter you are more likely to be a woman with her boobs out.  Moving on.

Tableaux vivants did not have that reputation, in fact the Middlesex Chronicle reported in 1906 that the Congregational Sunday School had performed some as part of an evening entertainment, including one of Prince Charlie's Farewell to Flora Macdonald and Maud Goodman appearing as Millais' Bubbles. Immediately, you will see my interest, as in looking at reports of tableaux, I found that people liked doing Pre-Raphaelite images, and furthermore in 1928, the Illustrated London News featured a full page spread of some absolute corkers.

The event was Empire Day, now called Commonwealth Day, which is celebrated on 24th May every year (yes, still) and in the good old days, they used to hold a ball.  Now, when I say 'they' I mean posh people, for other posh people, and as such, it was newsworthy. In 1928, it was held at the May Fair Hotel, which I think actually opened in 1927, so was an exciting new establishment.  Looking at their website now, it looks absolutely glorious and if anyone from the May Fair Hotel is reading this, please feel free to give me a call because blimey. Anyway, the ball was held in aid of the University College Hospital and was attended by the Duke and Duchess of York (the future King and Queen Mum).  The theme of the night was 'A Famous Picture Gallery' and due to the year being the centenary of Dante Gabriel Rossetti's birth, they focused on the Pre-Raphaelites. Now, I was surprised that there was such appetite for the Pre-Raphaelites because haven't we been told No-one liked the Pre-Raphaelites after the First World War? Well, let's have a look...

We start off strong with The Beloved...

The Beloved (1865-6) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Yes, they missed out the little boy, which is a shocking oversight, but also a relief that no-one took it upon themselves to assume 'black-face' for the occasion, thank the Lord. This is the 1920s, for goodness sake, I was worried for a moment. So, in the centre of the photograph is Miss Gwen Le Bas (1903-1944), the daughter of a wealthy industrialist and the sister of sculptor Molly Le Bas and artist Edward Le Bas, one of Cecil Beaton's friends. Gwen married William Grey Horton, an Olympic bobsledder, which is not something I get to report on a regular basis, but you will have noticed that she only lived 41 years.  On Sunday 18th June 1944, Gwen was attending a church service at the Guards Chapel in Westminster when it was hit by a V1 flying bomb, killing 121 people, both military and civilian, including Gwen. I'd like to be able to say she's our only War casualty today, but sadly not.

On a far more jolly note, either side of Gwen are the 'Ralli Twins', or Alison (1901-1974) and Margaret (1901-1970) Hore-Ruthven, two Bright Young Things who appeared in Cecil Beaton's Book of Beauty...

Alison Hore-Ruthven (1923) Bassano

Margaret 'Peggy' Hore-Ruthven (1923) Bassano

They were the younger sisters of the Countess of Carlisle, Bridget Hore-Ruthven, who had married a member of the Howard family and become a Countess.  

Countess of Carlisle in the Tatler, 1920

The Countess (1896-1982) was the chairman of the organising committee, and was obviously a very capable woman, coming into her own during the Second World War when she was the commander of women's services in India for which she received a CBE. She is also at the back of The Beloved, I think on the right (where Fanny Eaton would be), with Lady Lavery (1880-1935) on the right.

Hazel, Lady Lavery (unknown date and photographer)

Artist Hazel Lavery, wife of John Lavery (also an artist), had assisted in the presentation of the tableaux along with Lady George Cholmondeley also known as Sybil Sassoon (1894-1989), whose mother was a Rothchild - she was also known as the Countess of Rocksavage, which is possibly the coolest title in the world. Also assisting was Ernest Thesiger (1879-1961), an actor who had trained as an artist at the Slade and whose brother-in-law was William Ranken. The name dropping! Outrageous.

Next slide please!

The Countess of Carlisle as Mrs Leonard Collman

Mrs Leonard Collman (c.1854) Alfred Stevens

Here we have Bridget, Countess of Carlisle again, although quite why this was included in a Pre-Raphaelite gathering, I'm not sure.  It had been bought by the Tate Gallery in 1900, so maybe it was just a well-known image.  On we go...

The Last of England

The Last of England (1855) Ford Madox Brown

Involved in this tableaux of the Ford Madox Brown classic we have Valentine Whitaker (1904-1930), an actor who was engaged in Birmingham Rep and married for only 2 months when he caught pneumonia and died.  Next to him is Lady Morvyth Benson (1896-1959)...

Morvyth, on the front of the Tatler, 1945

Just a note - the Tatler is an absolute goldmine for glorious photographs of posh ladies. Morvyth, Lady Benson, was the daughter of the Earl of Dudley and as you can see by the photo, ended up as the vice-president of the Hampshire branch of the British Red Cross Society.  Her daughter Gillian worked for the Foreign Office, while her other daughter, Sarah, served in the WRNS. 

The Anunciation

Ecce Ancilla Domini! (1850) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Back on track with a Rossetti Tableaux, We have Mr B Algar (of whom I can discover nothing! Sorry Mr B Algar, whoever you might be) approaching a very dubious looking Mrs Alexander Carnegie.

Mrs Alexander Carnegie in the Tatler in 1928

Mrs Alexander Carnegie, or Susan Ottilia de Rodakowski-Rivers (1897-1968) was of Scottish and Swiss/Austrian extraction and a distant cousin of the Carnegie family. She married Alexander Bannerman Carnegie, whose father was the 10th Earl of Southesk.  In case you were wondering (like I was), the family was related to Andrew Carnegie the famous industrialist, but only because they were all descended from the 1st Earl of Southesk (1575-1658).

Lady with a Dove

Lady with a Dove (1864) John Brett

This was also an interesting inclusion as we count Brett among the circle of Pre-Raphaelites but he is not normally who you think of first as a Pre-Raphaelite artist.  Interestingly, this painting had only been in public hands a comparatively short time, having been donated by the artist Fannie Holroyd in 1919, after her husband's death - he had been Charles Holroyd, director of the National Gallery, and it is interesting that on the Wikipedia page, it is stated that his death was hastened by the suffragette war. I digress, whilst rolling my eyes...

Stephen and Virginia Courtauld (and Mah Jongg) (1920s) L Campbell Taylor

Posing for the role of Lady with a Dove is a Lady with a snake tattoo and a lemur. Virginia Courtauld (1883-1972) had previously been married to an Italian Count but married Stephen in 1923 and lived at Eltham Palace (which is glorious and well worth a visit) with Mah Jongg, their ring-tailed lemur. She allegedly had a snake tattoo that went up her leg from ankle to thigh.  What a brilliant lady, although I would have loved it if Mah-Jongg had been on her shoulder for the tableaux.

The First Earring

The First Earring (1834-5) David Wilkie

This one is a bit of a puzzle - it's another one from the Tate, donated in 1847, so possibly just a popular nineteenth century work - and in the tableaux we have Lady Anstruther, Mildred (1868-1958), who was Scottish nobility so maybe requested a Scottish artist for her tableaux. In the middle is Lady Pamela Smith (1914-1982), another Bright Young Thing and future Baroness Hartwell, who seems to have had a fascinating and intellectual life, including being on the V&A advisory council. On the other side of her is Countess Raben (1891-1976)...

Countess Raben and children, from the cover of the Bystander, 1925

Countess Raben, or Pauline Wilhelmine zu Pappenheim had married into the Danish royal family but also lived in Somerset.  However, the picture that appeared of her and her children Peter and Anastasia in the Bystander is positively haunted. Moving on.

We're in the home-straight now, so hang in there.  Next up is Monna Vanna...

Monna Vanna (1866) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Posing for Monna Vanna is Lady Dorothy Warrender, the first wife of Sir Victor Warrender MP and she is another one who seems to have come into her own in the Second World War. She became an officer in the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry and appeared in the Tatler in 1942 as the President of the Polish Armed Forces Comforts Fund (which she founded in 1939), appealing to anyone whose name begins with a 'P' to donate money and garments to be sent to Polish troops.

Lady Warrender, 1942

The Warrenders divorced in 1945, but Dorothy was invested as an Officer, Most Venerable Order of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem for her actions during wartime. 

Beata Beatrix (1864-70) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Our penultimate tableaux is Mrs Henry Mond as Beata Beatrix.  Amy Gwen Wilson married politician and industrialist Henry Mond, 2nd Baron Melchett in 1920 after he crashed his motorcycle outside the house where she was living with novelist Gilbert Cannan (best chum of D H Lawrence).  Cannan had left his wife for Gwen, but then Gwen and Mond married when Cannan was off in America for a lecture tour.  For a while, they lived as a thruple until Cannan couldn't cope anymore and was committed to a sanatorium for the rest of his life.  The Monds lived happily and wealthily ever after and didn't seem to have any social repercussions of their unusual lifestyle, even celebrating it by commissioning a 5 feet tall art work entitled Scandal by Charles Sargeant Jagger, showing a pair of naked embracing lovers being watched by disapproving society women (see it here).  Good for them, not everyone's kink-owning ends up in the V&A.

Sidonia Von Borck (1860) Edward Burne-Jones

Finally, we have Mrs Robin D'Erlanger (1896-1941), or Myrtle Farquharson of Invercauld, a favourite in the newspapers as she was so beautiful.

Mrs Robin D'Erlanger and her sister Mrs Edward Compton in the Tatler, 1931

Myrtle had an active brain, which she used to organise many charity events, and she favoured a narrow shoulder strap according to the newspapers in 1929. Mr and Mrs D'Erlanger divorced in 1934 and a few months later Robin died after an operation to remove his tonsils.  Myrtle was staying with her friend Lady Mainwaring in London in 1941 when the house was hit by a bomb, killing Myrtle who was knitting on a chaise longue, which is an impressive way to go.

The Order of Release, from a tableaux in 1922

Well done for making it to the end of this post - I know it was a bit epic.  I am now slightly obsessed by tableaux vivants, partly because this is how Ethel Warwick (subject of my new book) ended up in acting, and so will be hunting down more, especially if there are pictures.  The above rendition of The Order of Release, 1746 from the painting by Millais came from another charitable event in 1922, this time for the Children's Country Holiday Fund.  It involved a couple of Pre-Raphaelite works, including The Mirror of Venus by Burne-Jones (which unfortunately fell across two pages or else I would have included it).

Dante's Dream tableaux from 1910

There was also Dante's Dream by Rossetti included in the tableaux vivants at the Ritz Hotel, held on behalf of the English Branch of the International Catholic Society for Befriending Working Girls, which is not far from the behaviour of the Pre-Raphaelite Brothers, who were all for befriending working girls, allegedly.  Anyway, there were obviously Pre-Raphaelite and Pre-Raphaelite-adjacent pictures used in these tableaux from the late nineteenth century onwards, but the unique thing about the 1928 event was that they went so heavily into the Pre-Raphaelite images, due to Rossetti's anniversary.  The narrative that all interest in the Pre-Raphaelites vanished after the First World War (if not before) is too simplistic, however it can be argued that the power and impact of the works might have lessened in the decades since their creation.  I think the Victorians in 1860 would have been a little dubious about cosplaying as Pre-Raphaelite heroines but for the 1920s Bright Young Things it was all just fun. 

Honestly, when you have a thruple and a thigh tattoo, I don't think much can shock you.