Review: Captured in Art

 If you have read this blog for a while, you'll know I'm a sucker for an Art novel, for example this one, this one or this one, not to mention this one and this one which I wrote myself. I am always excited to hear of a new release and so I bring you Captured in Art by the splendid Vanessa Wiggins...

LOOK AT IT! Gorgeous cover, no notes.

Based in the mid- to late-Victorian periods we travel from London to Sicily, then to the aesthetic salons of Holland Park, uncovering secrets and art. Sophia travels to Sicily to improve her health, yet finds only further problems with her marriage. Twenty years later, Olivia lives with her parents and everyone's secrets in plush Holland Park, which are threatening to be revealed.

I really enjoyed the story, finding many echoes in the real lives of artists we know. Sophia's inner life and her search for hope and renewal in the sunshine of Sicily no doubt echoes many Victorian women's search for health, but only to find themselves held back by things, and people, beyond their control. The Holland Park salons remind me of the Prinseps, and they must have been pressure cookers of secrets as everyone attempts to paint themselves as respectable, knowing the truth is just waiting to be revealed. The pressure for respectability, security, marriage and stability was a particularly female struggle, yet another way that the Victorians kept everyone, especially women, in line and for both Sophia and Olivia, the struggle could not be more real. I liked the nod to the sensation novels of the period, secrets and lies just waiting to derail your best efforts and how stressful it must be to know something is under the rug, but will ultimately come to light.

Personally, I loved the first part but absolutely adored the second part as I am anyone's for a tableau vivant and I now also want a mischievous mongoose. I was left wondering about the real-life counterparts of some of Vanessa's characters and the situations they found themselves in - for example, Rossetti was notorious for not completing work on time (for many reasons) but how did that affect his peers? The interweaving of so many characters so well makes this a fascinating book to read and a must for all lovers of Victorian art fiction.

I was delighted to have a chat with the author, which is always a smashing thing...

1.  Your novel is set among the artists of the mid Victorian period, with a definite Pre-Raphaelite/Aesthetic overtone. How did you come to discover your love for this period?

Rather by chance, actually. I’d known and liked the Pre-Raphaelites all of my adult life, but only came across the later Aesthetic Movement a few years ago, through a chance reference. It set me off on a major quest of discovery, all over the country.

I explored historic houses, such as Wightwick, Cragside and Cardiff Castle, and the remarkable Leighton House artist’s studio-house. I was thrilled by their extraordinary architecture, the astonishing interiors and remarkable décor, and the beautiful objects within. I also went to galleries and museums, from the Watts Gallery to the Walker Art Gallery, and all places in between. And, needless to say, to the gorgeous Russell-Cotes. I found myself captivated by the art and design of that era.

2. I loved the travelling in your novel as I've always felt Pre-Raphaelite artists weren't afraid to go abroad - why was it important to you to send Edwin and Sophia to Sicily?

I love Sicily! There’s something visceral about it: the landscapes, the culture, art and food. Sicily lies at the crossing point of the Mediterranean so everyone’s been there, enriching it with influences from the Arabs, Greeks, Phoenicians, Normans and many others. It’s a place of discovery and revelation – and that’s its role in my story.

My artists travel to Italy and Sicily to paint and to learn – as so many Victorian artists did. At a time before mass media and communications, to experience the beauty and sheer foreignness of such places must have been astonishing and life-changing. And however did they move all their painting stuff?!

3. Sophia's vivid internal world is fascinating. Do you feel that Pre-Raphaelitism has a special relationship with women's emotional and mental health?

Oh yes, definitely. There are so many paintings that reveal the inner thoughts and feelings of women, which is notable in a generally male-focussed world. Often to a surprising degree too, given that the artists are mostly from middle-class backgrounds, and yet they did challenge the prevailing views. I’m thinking of Waterhouse’s ‘Mariana in the South’, Holman Hunt’s ‘The Awakening Conscience’ and G F Watts’ ‘Found Drowned’ where our sympathy is very much with the tragic victim.

4. Women's security and social safety and their life and love choices rings very true to me in your novel as I am reminded of the lives of some of the models I have studied. Were you influenced by any of the lives of women from the real Victorian art scene?

I’m a shameless cherry-picker when I write! I get ideas and inspiration from all aspects of my subject, and the lives of the muses and models – as with the artists themselves – most definitely influenced and inspired me. These young women inhabited a male-dominated world, where their lives were determined by men: their wealth, their desires and tastes, but many of the models found freedom and self-expression on their own terms. I wanted that also for my characters.

When we meet them, both Sophia and Olivia are constrained in one way or another by societal expectations, or the wants and needs of others, yet both find ways to follow their hearts and true selves. They find romantic love, but they also find self-expression and fulfilment.

5. Is there anywhere in the Victorian art scene, either in England or abroad, that you would like to have gone?

I’m particularly enthralled by the art and design of the mid 1870s, which is the setting for Olivia’s story in the novel. It’s the height of the Aesthetic era and the look of that period’s so gorgeous. Exploring it felt like stepping through a door from monochrome into an undiscovered world of the richest colours and ornamentation.

Actually, I’d love to have worn those dresses and stunning fabrics – although perhaps not the under garments! There’s also a radical anti-establishment feel to that time, (as with the Pre- Raphaelites) that seems to mirror the 1960s, something I can relate to.

6. What are you working on next?

I’m at the ideas stage for a story of a young woman seeking her missing sister. As with every story I write, there will be a garden (because I love gardens) – and probably one that’s overgrown and awaiting restoration. Also, a big house, and a parallel mystery from the past waiting to be discovered. I don’t think it will be Victorian-set, although I will be very sad to move away from that era. It won’t stop me visiting houses and galleries, though – that will definitely continue!

7. Lastly, what's your favourite painting from the period?

Gosh, so many! You could ask me that every day for a month and I’d always say something different.

I love Frank Cadogan Cowper’s ‘Vanity’ – so beautiful, yet unsettling.

‘Autumn Leaves’ by Millais, which so captures this season.

And three by Waterhouse come to mind: ‘Circe Invidiosa’, beautiful but sinister; ‘Boreas’ where her swirling cloak is like the wind itself; and ‘The Soul of The Rose’ – I think I probably imagine myself like that, in my garden, wearing a gorgeous gown and scenting a rose!

I can't recomment this novel enough and thank you to Vanessa for finding me. It will make a wonderful autumn read, and a smashing Christmas pressie for the art lover in your life (or yourself, obviously)

Captured in Art is released in October and is available to order from Amazon and all good bookshops.

Review: May Morris Designs

 May Morris seems to be having a bit of a moment.  Not only is she the subject of various exhibitions (especially this one, wombats ahoy!) but I was delighted to be sent a new book on her work to review...

I'm always at home for Miss Morris and so the arrival of a book concentrating on her talents is a very welcome addition to my library. I concede that she can occasionally be overshadowed in light of her father's all conquering presence in the Arts and Crafts scene (not to mention literature) but just because her father was spectacular, doesn't mean that May didn't move the world herself, especially when it came to embroidery.

Westward Ho! (1885) Jane and May Morris

She was undoubtedly a brilliant practitioner, but it was design that May felt was 'the very soul and essence of beautiful embroidery,' which is where I feel that May should be credited with elevating the art of needlework. Early in her career, May was praised in reviews of her work as being an authority on the subject of embroidery as well as a writer, designer and actual practitioner. May's approach to her work, thorough and intellectual as well as artistic, is demonstrated in her pieces that echo with previous eras in their style, colours and choices. She began writing on the subject from 1888, aged only 26, continuing until after the First World War. Her contribution to the Art Needlework movement, a guidebook to decorative needlework published in 1893, was powerful and displayed not only her desire to create but also to help others create.

Within Lynn Hulse's new book, we can see where May's talent and passion came from.  There is not only her father's work, but also that by her mother Jane and her aunt, Elizabeth Burden, who was also instrumental in her artistic education. It is clear that the individuals that all contributed to May's needlework built an individual who not only could produce beautiful work but also explain her process. For May, a good piece was built by the choice of colours, the invention in the choice of stitches, suitable materials and good design based on historical and non-western ornament, with a good dose of nature thrown in. She contended you could have a brilliant design and get away with not brilliant stitches but even the most perfect needlework couldn't save a bad design.

Bed-Hangings (1917) designed by May Morris

Lynn Hulse's book gives some fascinating detail in building a picture of May's journey to expert. On her 20th birthday, May received John Gerard's The Herball (1633) filled with line-drawn plants. It is easy to speculate on the influence this must have had on her work (not to mention her father's) with the depiction of nature as both realistic and artistic in the same breath. I was interested in the term 'non-western ornament' but Hulse looks at the opening up of Japan in the 1850s and the impact that had on the artistic life of England. There is description of the Middle Eastern textiles that the Morris family used in their home and which provided inspiration for the family. I also found May's comments against 'truth to nature' very interesting as she disliked some artists tendency to just 'copy some spray or bough directly from nature' rather than to design it, creating balance and rhythm within the space.

Autumn (1894) May Morris

I was aware of some of May's works, I've seen them in books and exhibitions, but concentrating on just her designs shows you exactly how many pieces she produced, not to mention their richness and complexity. Not only that, but May's wisdom on things like dying threads with natural dyes, such as madder and indigo, proved a revolt against the modern and synthetic. Mind you, despite romancing the past, there are definite aspects of May's work that foreshadow the future with hints at Art Deco, for example in this bag that May and her sister Jenny made for William's Medieval Psalter...

May Morris Designs is a glorious book which illuminates not only May's professional and artistic life but also the history of Art Embroidery and its importance. The talent and time that went into these pieces that deify household items shows how art can be domestic and the every-day household can be elevated to a masterpiece. Hulse's book shows that May was a force to be reckoned with in terms of her intelligence and dedication to not only her own work but encouraging and enabling others to produce beautiful work too.  In that spirit, at the back of the book (and on the website) there are some of May's patterns to use in embroidery of your own, which I will defintely be giving a try.  Come on, let's make May proud...

May Morris Designs: The Essence and Soul of Beautiful Embroidery is available now from the Ashmolean and all good bookshops now.

Review: Julia Margaret Cameron: The Colonial Shadows of Victorian Photography

I've started this review a few times but knowing how to start a conversation about Colonialism is hard, which I think is the point. When I was at school, we were not taught about it and I was puzzled that when my daughter did History for GCSE, she didn't really cover it either. I think some people find it hard to talk about because 'all that's over, right?' and true, the globe is mercifully not very pink anymore. However, and the reason why this new book by Jeff Rosen is so fascinating, there is more than one way Colonialism works. Yes, there is stomping into someone's country and behaving like you have right on your side, but there is also the intellectual side of it all.  Enough rambling from me, here's the book...

I reviewed Jeff's book on Julia Margaret Cameron's Fancy Subjects here and thoroughly enjoyed his insight into her photography, so I was delighted to be asked to review this one.  I must admit that tackling the colonial aspect of JMC when I wrote Light and Love was complicated as arguably it was in everything she did and that, put very simply, is exactly the point of this book.  However, it is done with far more skill and nuance than I ever could have managed.

Déjatch Alámayou (1868)

Our starting point is the 1857 uprising and the following reprisals in India after which Queen Victoria dissolved the East India Company.  As you will know, Julia Margaret Cameron and her family and friends were very much involved with the East India Company, by family involvement, by marriages and very obviously socially. It is unavoidable then that this would have an impact on her art and society.  Included in the prologue is Thackeray's poem 'Arthur's First Wound' from 1858.  I am a great lover of language and this poem, with phrase such as 'our English Arthur,' 'God be with the right,' 'The Davids of our land' and 'the Giant of Revolt,' is exceptionally loaded.  The name of the child invoked, Arthur, speaks not only to Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington (who died in 1852), but also King Arthur, England's own mythical Jesus-king who will rise again.  Likening England to David against India's Goliath is so unhinged that I had to read it a couple of times to make sure I wasn't missing something. Most disturbingly, Thackeray says 'God be with the right,' which is as loaded as calling the uprising against the occupying force a 'Mutiny'.  The language used in conflict never fails to horrify and intrigue me, and all this can be applied to a number of conflicts and no doubt upcoming elections now.  Thackeray was a close friend of the Pattle sisters and his daughters remained close to JMC for the rest of her life. This is the mindset that she shared, and she was not alone.

Paul and Virginia (1864)

I must agree that in the past we have separated Julia's portraits from her narrative pieces, and separated her portraits of 'important people' from those of friends and family.  In this book, it is argued that this is impossible - Julia is so steeped in colonial officialdom that everyone had connections to the business of Empire, from her close male friends to her Irish beggar-maid. Whilst I would say there are degrees - the maids would not have the same concerns as the family (until they marry a civil servant, in the case of Mary Ryan) - I think the events at Lucknow effected everyone to some degree and art around it was very much of one narrative (for example this sort of thing) and I found this passage interesting - 'The Pattle clan took the news hard. Julia Margaret was depressed and literally fell ill as the terrible news spread over all England.'

Spear or Spare (1868)

I have written about some of the most obviously colonial pieces JMC has produced, most prominently the images of little Prince Alemayehu and Captain Speedy which are not only products of colonialism but also images that are overtly about the acts of Empire, like Spear or Spare from 1868.  What I hadn't considered is the background noise of colonialism in other images, such as the death images of Adeline Clogstoun.

From Death / The lovely remains of my little Adeline (1872)

I must admit to squeamishness when it comes to post-mortem Victorian images, and having seen a dead body I'm not sure why you would want a photograph of one, but I never noticed the print that is hanging on the wall behind little Adeline (probably as I was too busy trying not to think about the dead child on the bed).  It is a print of a watercolour by Orlando Norie of Herbert Clogstoun, Adeline's father, and his 'charge at Madras from which he won the Victoria Cross', which JMC wrote on the white of the print in some of the images. I find it interesting that the majority of those haunting images of the child are just straight, glowing photos of the bed and body, but she couldn't resist linking the death of the child with her heroic dead father who died in the service of Empire.

King of Oude by Right of Birth (c.1865)

When you begin to look and consider, JMC's support of the Colonial status quo is everywhere and understandably so.  She was a child of Empire, as were her parents and grandparents. Her grandfather had escaped/been banished from Revolutionary France but her grandmother had never seen her ancestral France until later in life. Grandfather Ambroise De L'Etang had worked with horses in India, including for the Nawab of Oude. The East India Company changed the title from Nawab to King, signalling the move from allegiance to the Mugal Emperor to King, degrading the status of the Mugal reign. The title of JMC's photograph leans into that EIC revision, even after the Queen's dissolution of the Company and the claim of the rule back to herself as Empress.  Iqbal al-Daula is the ousted King not Nawab. That is the challenge/problem/conundrum of JMC and the colonial side of Victorian life - it is difficult to unpick all the ideas (or prejudices) of the English abroad, including those that hadn't been in England for generations.  It is easy to either condemn or defend the colonial set, depending on your politics and viewpoint.  What is harder is to explore the products of that world in context, but this is a wonderful journey into the reasons behind that world and its resultant art and society. It changes the way you see the art, truthfully, and that is always a good thing.

Romeo and Juliet (1867)

I really enjoyed this large, beautifully illustrated and extremely thoughtful book. Colonialism is a very important lens in which to view all aspects of our history and Julia Margaret Cameron's art and life are perfect to turn this lens on. I think there is a lot of defensiveness about our colonial history and there need not be as it explains so much of our past and present.  This examination of Empires, both in reality and of the mind, can give a wonderful new view of JMC's art and it is beautifully examined and explained by Jeff Rosen.  I have read (and indeed done) writing on Julia's colonial ties and influences but this new book gives a fuller and more comprehensive view of her life, society and art in this light which is extremely satisfying.  I can't recommend it enough.

More information on Jeff's book is available here and via all good book sellers now.

Review: Spirituality, Feminism and Pre-Raphaelitism in Modern British Art and Culture

 You know me, I am all about 'forgotten' artists (I can't stand it when journalists say someone is 'forgotten', so possibly 'less fashionable' is better? That sounds a bit judge-y. 'Lesser known'? 'Obscure'? Anyway, you get the picture...) and so I get excited when books come out about them, which both inform and raise the profile of their art.  I also am up for a bit of Feminism and Pre-Raphaelitism, so Alice Eden's new book was right up my alley...

Okay, let's get the price out of the way, as it is £130 and not everyone gets a review copy as I was fortunate enough to receive.  We have seen such prices in a number of books of the last few years which people were desperate to get their hands on.  In such cases, the prices came down eventually and the library will get you a copy in the meantime. I'm guessing the sort of publisher that could make this book cheaper are few and far between these days as the little presses get swallowed up by the bigger groups who are less risk-taking and more about the profits above all else. It's a shame but here we are. Let's get on to the book itself and not my predictable rant about publishing...

They Come (undated) Thomas Cooper Gotch

So, Alice's book centres around three artists from the later Victorian period - Thomas Cooper Gotch, Robert Anning Bell and Frederick Cayley Robinson - and how their art can be seen to explore the subjects of female spirituality, modernity and the past. I think critics in Britain struggle with with nineteenth to twentieth century 'modern art' as, unlike other countries, we don't go from highly figurative paintings of Medieval women in towers to dipping a cat in paint and throwing it at a canvas, so writers have always struggled to see the subtleties of our art movement from the past to the future. I believe Sister Wendy described Pre-Raphaelitism as a cul-de-sac, which is charming. Also, art historians and critics are not a bright bunch on the whole and so wouldn't be able to tell a gradual nuance from their elbow. As Alice points out, the work of these three gorgeous artists existed in and responded to The Modern World (TM), often engaging in amazingly symbiotic ways - angels and aeroplanes, knights and sewing machines. I was immediately reminded of a beautiful Maxwell Armfield painting of a woman playing a harp, looking for all the world like Saint Cecilia, while post Second World War New York is seen behind her. These two things can exist together. Didn't Burne-Jones say something to the tune of 'the more I see of modern life, the more I paint angels?' - little did he know that the two aren't mutually exclusive...

Music in New York (1946) Maxwell Armfield

I blame the fin-de-siecle, quite honestly. It made everyone get all spiritual and that combined with the growing awareness of women's rights and votes. There is an argument (I have often made it here on this blog) that a lot of male artists (and much of society) did not respond positively to the growing volume of female voices, and there is a layer of threat in the feminine occult and female spirituality, but there is also reason to see its sudden existence. In this book, you can see the case made for the evolution of Pre-Raphaelitism from Truth to Nature to Trust to Supernatural as the Victorian obsession with ghosts became the Edwardian love of Modernism and magic.

The Toy Windmill (1931) Robert Anning Bell

Let me just get my 'Pre-Raphaelite' rant out of the way too.  Goodness, I am filled with the rants today, but honestly, it's been that sort of month. I am aware that the term Pre-Raphaelite is both over- and under-used. In some quarters, it is seen as sacred - if it isn't the work of the original Magnificent Seven, then you don't get to call it Pre-Raphaelite.  Others apply it to any woman with red hair. I think we can find a middle ground - I would rather the term was over-used because it keeps it in the modern consciousness, however when it comes to describing art what we need to agree on is that the work of the Magnificent Seven is Pre-Raphaelite and then possibly everything else is Pre-Raphaelitism. Surely that will keep the purests happy? That way we only need to argue about what constitutes Pre-Raphaelitism, which includes the Met Galathe Met Gala apparently. Sorry, back to the review...

The Call of the Sea (1900) Frederick Cayley Robinson

Glasgow plays a big connecting role in all this - the Celtic Revival held a spiritual and mystical heart, unsurprising, as artists such as John Duncan were connected to the theosophical movement at the time, and Belgian Symbolist artist Jean Delville was Head of Painting at the School of Art from 1900. It is a relief and a definite refocusing to admit that maybe, just maybe, it's not all about London all the damn time. Stuff happened elsewhere that is actually important to how we could see British Art and its evolution. The moment we step from the Capital it is easy to see that Britain didn't just drop off the artistic horizon. Marvellous.

What feels very relevant to our modern life are Victorian/Edwardian notions of the erosion of masculinity. Back in 2012, I wrote a piece about how Burne-Jones turned everyone gay in the 1880s and it is very much seen as a response to not only the more mystical style of art, but also predictably the rise in the power of women. I find it all really modern; you only need to venture onto the wrong side of social media to find out the horrors of mewing, man or bear and all that to know that we are not alright. What is oddly comforting is that over a century ago they were having the same conversations, albeit with a corset on and less bears. If ever you want to argue that British Victorian and Edwardian art is modern art, reflect on how our views, issues and struggles are so very alike. Then feel a bit sad.

Childhood (1926) Frederick Cayley Robinson

This is a great book, not least because I feel really ranty and argumentative so obviously it is thought-provoking. Alice's three chaps are artists who massively deserve our attention, not least because I think Gotch got dismissed in the whole Lewis-Carroll-is-a-kiddie-botherer of the early 1970s, which I find infuriating, but again, art historians are the worst. I do have a concern (and I in no way want to come off like 'I'm not like other girls' here) that in our rush to find lost artists, we are concentrating on traditionally marginalised one, which is brill and correct, but we are not dragging along other excellent artists who had the misfortune to have been born white and male but missed the first bus of rediscovery. There is room for all, which is surely the point, and so we would do better to start talking about the whole history of art, which surprisingly includes men. Arguably, by leaving out the patriarchy we miss the context in which everyone was working. Context is everything.

This is a richly illustrated book with images that are possibly new to everyone, or at least not so familiar. It's an academic but accessible read and will get you thinking and talking. It is new ways of looking at familiar ground and bringing the way we see our home-grown art into the twenty-first century. It's about time.

A Pageant of Childhood (1899) Thomas Cooper Gotch

Spirituality, Feminism and Pre-Raphaelitism in Modern British Art and Culture is available from Routledge and all good book shops now.

Book Review: Julia Margaret Cameron - A Poetry of Photography

 Happy New Year everyone and I trust you have all recovered from your Christmas jollities and the suchlike.  I was very fortunate to receive a lovely Christmas present from Father Christmas (and the lovely people at Bodleian Library Publishing, merci beaucoup) of a brand spanking new volume on Julia Margaret Cameron's photography.  Now, as you know, I love a bit of JMC and have gone as far as to write a book about her, and so am always interested to see what everyone else is writing, plus any book on Julia is going to be a joy to look at, so I was very excited when the whacking great big parcel arrived...

Oxford holds a sizable collection of Julia's photographs - over 100 of which appear in this book, which has been written in conjunction with that collection from the Bodleian and the Ashmolean, together with other works of art that place her work in context.  This book by Nichole J Fazio explores how Julia blurred the line between photography and poetry in her pursuit of the visual poetic, her response to the verses of others and her creation of a visual language of her own.

The Kiss of Peace (1869)

Julia herself wrote and translated poetry and had a great love of the works of others.  Her devotion to Tennyson as both a friend and an artist created some of her best works, but it is rare that we look at her visual work as poetry.  Arguably, her poetry is better without words, or certainly has a timeless quality that an awful lot of  poetry can lack. In her visual poems, Julia was experimental, not always successful, unconcerned with the rules of visual art and sometimes spectacularly iconic in ways that still resonate with us today and seem inexplicably modern. Such is the pleasure of her work - somehow, she expresses an emotion she feels yet over 150 years later we can see our own emotions in that same image, even if it is not quite what she intended.

Maud (1875)

The book is split into two distinct sections - the essays and the plates, all delivered on beautiful quality paper (these things matter).  In the essays, we explore Julia, how she fitted (or didn't fit) into the movement of nineteenth century, male-dominated photography, and how her intentions differed from those of the other practitioners.  One thing I have always been fascinated with is when portraits veer from the intended outcome - Julia has many examples; there might be two images of Henry Taylor, one is a portrait and one is something like 'King David' but both are so similar, so when does a portrait stop or start being a portrait? 

A Study of King David (1866)

I really enjoyed the chapter on G F Watts who I think we should acknowledge as a lynch-pin in nineteenth century British art as he knew everyone (truly the Kevin Bacon of Victorian art) and his relationship with Julia is a complex one which I have always felt Julia does not get enough credit for. I also like the alignment of her work with Symbolism and its early place in Britain.

George Frederic Watts RA (1865)

I think her sequence for Idylls of the King contains some of her best and worst work, or rather her most timeless and most dated pieces. I've always felt there is a sharp contrast between a picture like Maud (1875) and 'So like a shatter'd column lay the King' (1875), one meditative and aesthetic, the other theatrical and decidedly am-dram. I think they show the struggle for Julia between the dramatic 'narrative' art and the more 'art for art sake' style of her photography, not to mention her manipulation (intentional or otherwise) of the photographic form with variable focus, scratches, smudges, all changing the outcome of the image.

'So like a shatter'd column lay the King' (1875)

This is a book about Julia's work, rather than a biography, and a look at how that work fits within the artistic and poetic framework of her time. There is an attempt to see her development as a photographer/poet/artist, the pinnacle being the Idylls cycle but with so many striking images it sometimes is hard to see a development in a way - Julia is brilliant at all points in her career, but also very Victorian at points, very religious and very overdramatic, all of which are charges that could be levelled at Julia herself (and many Victorian artists and poets). Her poetic work is amazing but it would be easy to underestimate the power and differentness of her portraits of her friends. I am always struck by her beard-portraits and how the men look at ease, despite the long exposure times. Sometimes it is almost as if they don't know she is there, which would be impossible for many reasons.

The Dream (1869)

This is a cracking book, and a great way to start 2024.  It's a heavy, beautifully illustrated and thoughtful book, proving a background and framework to consider these increasingly familiar photographs. All aspects of her work are here from the gentle religious pieces, the famous men and women, the children and the ever-present Tennysonian verses. I appreciated the multiple photographs on the same subject, for example it is interesting seeing The Whisper of the Muse in its different versions.  I very much hope that Julia Margaret Cameron is finally finding her place as an innovator and (for want of a better word) influencer in art in the mid-nineteenth century. Not enough is written about her influence on other artists, concentrating instead on those that influenced her, yet it is impossible to look through such a beautiful book as this and not see the difference she made to the conversation. I can only hope more exhibitions are to come.

Julia Margaret Cameron: A Poetry of Photography by Nichole J Fazio is available now from the Bodleian Shop and all splendid book sellers.

Review: D'Annunzio. Connections Across the Chanel

Apologies for the delay in this review - it has been a very hectic time at Chez Walker but I'm aware that Blogvent is approaching fast so I have some posts I want to liberate before December is upon us.  For starters, I was very kindly sent this book...

 Written in both Italian and English, it explores the life, loves, reputation and influence of writer, lover, dog owner and political figure Gabriele D'Annunzio, who I must admit I knew nothing about.  What surprised me even more is that when I mentioned this book online it drew some very strong opinions about the gentleman and his politics, but this book offers an insight into some unexpected areas of his life, together with interviews that show how much cross-pollination the artistic environment offered.

D'Anunzio and his Dogs

Okay, let's start with the greyhounds - whilst I was prepared to read about Ruskin and Pre-Raphaelitism, not to mention fascism, I was not prepared for greyhounds.  The average person on the street in early 20th century Britain would have known D'Annunzio for his long-muzzled companions who he not only 'coarsed' (simulated hunting) but also had a great affection for.  He planned to write a book entitled Lives of Illustrious Dogs, although that never materialised, and described his beloved dog Fullerton, four-time waterloo cup winner and 'kidnapped by gipsies' although that is a bit dubious. His elevation of greyhounds from working dogs to aesthetic masterpieces is very interesting and reminded me of paintings by fellow Italian Boldini, like the portrait of Luisa Casati...

Marchesa Luisa Casati, with a greyhound (1908) Giovanni Boldini

As fascinating as his connection to the popularity of greyhounds is, I was fascinated by the threads that connected D'Annunzio to art in Britain during the latter end of the twentieth century. He expressed a love of the work of Lawrence Alma-Tadema.  He wrote poetically of the art he saw in the 1883 Roman Fine Art Exhibition, describing Alma-Tadema's 'gem-like painting' and superb handing of colour. It was from Alma-Tadema that D'Annunzio moved under the spell of the Pre-Raphaelites.  A year after Rossetti died, D'Annunzio wrote 'We demand something truly youthful, something truly new' and that something turned out to be the spread of Pre-Raphaelitism through Italy. It is argued that without the shadow of Rossetti, the Italian writer would not have become the figure he created, formed through the writings of Ruskins and the visuals of the generations of Pre-Raphaelites.

Poster for La Figlia di Lorio (libretti by d'Annunzio)

An aspect of the book I really enjoyed were the interviews with the subject of each chapter explored with an expert on the subject, for example Rebecca Lipkin on Ruskin.  This enables you to see not only how D'Annunzio would have seen the subject, but explore the connections across the Channel. This is especially interesting in the role of place as biography - d'Annunzio created and donated his home Vittoriale degli Italiani, 'the shrine of victories of the Italians'...

Prioria main entrance - gloriously yellow

The interview for this section was with Daniel Robbins of Leighton House, which I found fascinating - as you know Mr Walker curates the Russell-Cotes Art Gallery in Bournemouth, a house created and left to the people of Bournemouth by Sir Merton and Lady Annie Russell-Cotes.  The idea of leaving a monument to your personal idea of how you should be remembered is a subject I never tire of, especially when you read comments on the internet that it is 'a fascist lunapark' (a phrase I will definitely use again) but with such a grandiose title, you get a very clear idea of how d'Annunzio felt he should be remembered.  Also, the house is a good opportunity to use one of my favour words - defenestrated.  He moved to the house after his defenestration which is a lovely way of saying someone lobbed him out of a window.

The utterly stupendous Eleonora Duse

Being a man of the theatre, it is unsurprising that d'Annunzio was attached to some of the most famous actresses of his generation including Eleonora Duse who he met at the turn of the century and remained linked to for around a decade.  She appeared in his play Francesca da Rimini (1901) and their relationship was scandalously revealed in his novel The Flame of Life (1900). His life, his art and his lovers all contribute to his reputation as a decadent figure.

D'Annunzio, reading (probably something decadent)

His reputation, politically, is problematic enough to probably cause someone to assist him out of a window, but this is a book that explores where d'Annunzio's inspiration for his art came from and the links to England, Pre-Raphaelitism and notable figures is enlightening.  As I have said before, I grew up being told that the Pre-Raphaelites were a cul-de-sac of art that led nowhere, so the research here reveals the inspiration others took from their works and ethos.  I can heartily recommend this book as it is fascinating, easy to dip in and out of, lushly illustrated and the interviews bring new light on both their own subject and d'Annunzio.

The book is available now, and further information can be found here.

Review: Elizabeth Siddal: Her Story by Jan Marsh

 Further to what I was saying yesterday, we not only have a swanky new catalogue to go with The Rossettis exhibition at the Tate, but also we have a brand new biography of Elizabeth Siddal from Jan Marsh...

Now, I was fortunate to have been sent a pdf copy of the forthcoming book which is due out any moment now from Pallas Athene so my review is about the contents rather than including details of the physical book but I've had books from Pallas Athene before and they do a lovely job. On with the review!

Photo of Elizabeth Siddal (c.1860s)

Arguably, in the last decade, we have moved from seeing Elizabeth Siddal as a muse to seeing her as maker. In fact, I would boldly assert that the shift in our perspective of her (as an audience, rather than you and me specifically) is breath-taking and something I can only dream about accomplishing with Fanny. For Miss Siddal, the two images of her, as model and painter/poet, are so well defined it is easy to see why people cling to the more tragic version of her, drug-taking, bath-bothering, abused wife rather than the woman of such agency that it lifted her to an artist who exhibited internationally.  Speaking as a biographer of 'colourful' women, it's the colourful bits that persist.  Where we start with Jan Marsh's new book is one of my favourite phrases - What is it that we actually know to be true?

Sketch for Ophelia (1851) John Everett Millais

So, where to start? Well, actually what has been told to us over the years is by people who are writing their own narratives.  Obviously, I know that to be true of Fanny but to my shame I never really thought about it with Elizabeth Siddal.  Starting with her iconic discovery in the hat shop - Really?  Do we know that to be true? Apparently not. That's rather mind blowing in itself...

Elizabeth Siddal (1854) Dante Gabriel Rossetti

When you start dismantling the narrative, you are left with the facts such as she was a painter, Ruskin was her patron, she went to France, she studied in Sheffield and wrote powerful poetry.  She also found herself on uncertain ground with her erstwhile lover who replaced her and moved his art style on then returned.  Much is made of her health and habits but not much is said of her strength and once you put into context the events that happened around her and what she dealt with, it is impressive she accomplished as much as she did. I am left wondering why on earth she loved Rossetti, arguably she could have had a more settled, sucessful life without him. 

St Agnes' Eve (1854) Elizabeth Siddal

Split into sections entitled 'Model', 'Studio' and on to the places she visited or studied and her marriage and death, this is both a simple telling of her life story and also a bold challenge to the many myths of Miss Siddal. While undoubtedly tragic things happened in her life, it is hard to find people who write about her without presenting her as a victim.  Would we feel the same way, and speak the same way about 'poor Lizzie' if she had died in childbirth like Joanna Boyce or merely lived a long life beside a philandering husband, like Georgie Burne-Jones.  We do not prefix either of those women as 'tragic' so why Elizabeth Siddal?

A lock of Elizabeth Siddal's hair

I very much like this book and it will be a refreshing resource for those wishing to see both the narratives and the facts in one pocket sized book.  At around 150 pages, it is a quick read but it does not beat around the bush and has little time for meandering into supposition.  It is illustrated throughout and written in a thoroughly engaging manner which makes it the perfect companion to the new exhibition at the Tate.  

Long may we challenge the narrative!

What to Read When You Want to Know About Pre-Raphaelitism...

I was giving a tour of the Telling Tales exhibition at the Russell-Cotes and one of my lovely visitors asked if I had written a suggested reading list.  I was astonished I had not forced my random selection of opinions on you sooner, but thank you very much, here is my list...

Now, obviously there are thousands of books out there about Pre-Raphaelite art and if you click on 'Book Review' in the right-hand column you can probably find a load I've reviewed over the years, but I certainly have a very fond place in my heart for certain ones that have helped me along the way or have made me the researcher and writer I am today.  This is, therefore, not a definitive list, but my personal favourites which I will try and put in some sort of useful order...

General Books or where to start

The very first book on Pre-Raphaelite art I bought was this one...

I was at my first Open University summer school having a thoroughly miserable time when I found this book in the campus bookshop and it changed my life.  Is it the best book ever? Well, probably a bit out of date now seeing as it was published before I was born, but still it's a pretty decent starting point, with lots of good pictures and accessible text.  In the same vein and a little more recent is this one...

This is a little gem, with gorgeous illustrations in colour and a really helpful text.  This is probably one of the best beginner books but also a little pocket-sized book on art to dip into. I own the Alice in Wonderland book in this series too which is brilliant.

The Tate Gallery's 1984 catalogue holds a special place in my heart and is still a great catalogue, plus it's really cheap to buy second hand (for example £3.55 on Amazon).  There are lots of modern books on the Pre-Raphs, including 2012 Tate's catalogue, but they aren't £3.50.  Also, I love looking at older catalogues to see how our opinions change, not to mention who is in the catalogues and who isn't.  That leads me onto the next category...

Pre-Raphaelite Women

Oh, come on, of course I'm going to recommend this...

I'm so predictable, but also it's an easy book to dip in and out of and very accessible with lovely illustrations. It's now out of print, so all copies have to be secondhand but it seems to be around still for around £15. I love this book so much.  However, it would not have existed without this one...

I love Jan's The Pre-Raphaelite Sisterhood but this one has so many pictures, photographs and the suchlike that it's a joy to flip through. It has images you won't find in many other places and covers both the lives of the models and the themes of paintings that include them.  It's a really interesting book which is beautifully illustrated, whereas Sisterhood is a more straightforward biography.  Buy both just to make sure you have all bases covered. 

As time went on, women became just part of the narrative in art without having to have a special mention, so this catalogue is a cracker for the women of the latter end of the nineteenth century, plus it has a picture of Irene Smedley in it that is swoon-worthy...

It's basically Birmingham's collection that toured just before (and over) lockdown.  It is an astonishingly beautiful book and I can't recommend it enough.

If you want to have a cracking little book on Rossetti's women, this is definitely a corker...

This is a recent addition and absolutely lovely, and is no doubt a popular book because of the eternal fascination with Rossetti and his ladies.  Very useful and most welcome if you want to have a good wallow in gorgeousness.

Mind you, you might want to get a bit up-close and personal with an individual subject, so here are some suggestions...

Well, yes, obviously.  While we're on the subject...

Outrageous self-promotion! Anyway, I especially loved the following while writing Light and Love...

This is a very lovely, dark book, concentrating on the women who modelled for JMC and so obviously I loved it.  There are lots of smashing books on JMC now and I have great hopes that she is now regarded as one of the nation's finest artists and a national treasure. If you feel ambitious but strapped for cash (a familiar feeling) then Getty have made the complete catalogue of her photographs free to download, which is rather nice of them.

There is a fair amount on the women in a few of the general Pre-Raphaelite books, most interestingly this one...

Gay Daly's 1990 look at the sordid love lives of the Pre-Raphs is brilliant and far more fun that Desperate Romantics. Also, you can get it quite cheaply, which is an absolute bonus.

Individual Women 

I obviously recommend Stunner as I'm biased, but there really isn't much else out there on Fanny.  I own a copy of Paull Baum's 1940 edition of Rossetti's letters to Fanny but it cost me loads ages ago and there aren't many of them around.  Fascinating book though and I recommend it if you can find a copy.

If I really have to talk about other Pre-Raphaelite women, then here's a lovely book...

This was an unexpected pleasure - a large scale picture book biography which is a pleasurable read and full of gorgeous colour illustrations.  Add to that, this one...

One of my favourite books of last year.  I think we have a very set idea of the Morris's marriage (how can you not?) but there is a lot that contradicts the notion of unhappiness and cheating as life is not that straightforward. I felt I knew them better after reading it.

Let's just keep it in the family and get this catalogue on May Morris as well.  Honestly, they were such a talented family and you can't go wrong with that collection of books.

While I'm on the subject of the individual women, may I draw your attention to this absolute role-model and stunner...

This, of course, is the magnificent Diana Holman-Hunt and when I grow up, I will also look at people that witheringly too and shout things like 'Unless you have brought me a lighter or a drink you can sod off!' which is very much the expression she is wearing here.  She wrote this wonder...

This book is marvellous for the Waugh sisters, obviously, but also contains a helping of Annie Miller, which is unusual.

Rossetti

Deary me, yes, he probably does need his own section. If I can make a plea to a publisher to re-release Virginia Surtees catalogue of his works so peasants like me can own a copy of a book I used to covet from the local library.  If you have a spare £500, you can probably find the text and plates, but they are getting scarcer. If you can cope with the Italian, this is a pretty good catalogue of his works...

Maria Benedetti's book is not too big and the pictures are large thumbnails for the most part but it does provide a lot of information and is really helpful in showing more obscure images.  It is eminently portable, which is a quality I often look for in a book. I'll come to the biographies at the end under free books, but if I had to get something a little unusual, then this is splendid...

I love a unique angle and looking at the man through his (and a lot of Victorians) passion for Exotic animals is definitely one I liked.  It still has repercussions today - did you know that wallabies now count as indigenous to the South Downs as there are so damn many of them.  We also have parrots in our local park. The introduction of foreign species makes our country a more interesting and colourful place, that's for sure. I still have great hopes for the reintroduction of dodos. 

If you have to have a big book of pictures, there are numerous catalogues and no doubt the one for the April Rossettis exhibition will be glorious, but I remember buying my next suggestion at a secondhand book shop and being filled with joy...

It's Alicia Craig Faxon's whopping great big 1989 Rossetti biography.  Gorgeously illustrated and sturdy enough to kill someone with. Marvellous.

I have a very soft spot for Oswald Doughty's 1949 A Victorian Romantic...

He included Alexa Wilding!  In 1949! Absolute hero, and he has one of the rare photos of her in there too.

This one has to be an essential...

No-one contemporary to Rossetti recorded so much unbiased (as far as possible) information on the artist as Boyce, whose diaries show us life in 1850s and 1860s bohemian Chelsea. Yes, they are heavily edited and I believe the originals are long since gone, but you get a very clear picture of Boyce and his circle.  Mercifully, this book was re-released recently and is much easier to get hold of than The Owl and the Rossettis (I have a ridiculously cheap edition I treasure dearly because they ask stupid money for it otherwise) and it is nice to read about a privileged man who doesn't seem to do anyone any harm.

A special mention has to go to this one...

You might not be overly familiar with Robert Bateman, but this is such an engaging book, not only about Bateman and his fascinating story but about Nigel and his journey to write the book.  It is a very special book due to this combination of timelines, almost like A S Byatt's Possession but it is impossible not to love Nigel and his lovely partner and feel like you are being chatted to like a friend. 

Books for Free

Obviously there are shedloads more books and you might have favourites that I haven't included.  I have to say that over the last few years an absolute revelation has been Archive.org, which has been invaluable in finding old, out of print books (and also borrowing a newer book for a hour to have a little flip through to see if I want to buy it).  For example, I used The Owl and the Rossettis online before I could afford a new one during the pandemic. There are scores of books on Rossetti, dating from just after his death to modern times and if the book is out of copyright, you can normally download a pdf to keep. The quality of the illustrations can be variable, but if you want to have a look at, for example Marillier's excellent 1899 illustrated memoir, you can do so here.  I also have accessed Hall Caine's work through Archive.org as I still refuse to give him any money, the swine.  I started off researching the Pre-Raphaelites with a local town library, no money and no internet.  I understand we need to get our resources where we can and Archive.org is a blessing for the homebound and impoverished among us. I always say that researching and writing about these unknown figure is possible wherever you are, you just need the confidence/bloodymindedness to do it and use all the resources you can get your hands on. 

Oh, I almost forgot, you simply have to buy a copy of Bram Dijkstra's Idols of Perversity...

Trust me on that one...