Wednesday 3rd December - Yarmouth Beach

 I've worked out that I only have a couple more days of physically being in the office this year, including today! That is both exciting and sobering as I am now worrying whether I have done everything and what I need to leave copious notes for, so I don't forget to do things when I return in January.  Obviously, I'll be working from home in the meantime, and some of my colleagues never seem to sleep so I have to keep an eye on my work emails all over the festive period - well, maybe not on actual Christmas Day as I will be too busy eating.  Anyway, let's crack on with today!

Yarmouth Beach (1860-65) Frederick Sandys

I think I chose this one because it is a bit of a mixed bag.  The first thing I thought when I saw it was 'Really??!! Fred Sandys??!!' because I was used to his work looking like this...

Helen of Troy (1867)

But hang on, there is something about the face of that young lady, or to the point, the chin of that young lady, that seems to link the two images. In fact, this one seems a bit closer...

Mary Magdalen (Tears Idle Tears) (1862)

The model for this one was Mary Emma Jones, or Mary Sandys as she styled herself, the second 'wife' (they never married as he never actually got a divorce from his first wife) of Frederick Sandys who began to appear in his work (and that of his sister Emma) in the early 1860s.  Whilst his work in the first half of the 1860s is normally equated with images of Keomi Gray, as we can see from Mary Magdalen, Mary popped up at the same time as Sandys other mistress.

Let's start with the painting itself, it was donated to Norfolk Museums Service by Prince Frederick Duleep Singh.  In 1921, he gifted the Ancient House Museum of Thetford to the people of Norfolk, presumably including this picture. In some accounts of this work it is attributed to Anthony Sandys, father of Frederick and Emma and I can see why - the style doesn't seem the same and the subject matter is not really Fred's thing, but it isn't unusual for an artist to do a domestic painting of a loved one in a different style. Hang on then, while I'm about it, why can't this be by Emma?

Revealing Her Hand (undated) Emma Sandys

Okay, so the works we have by Emma are sparce in comparison, but I always wondered how difficult it would be to delete the bottom line of the E in 'ES' and make is 'FS' - don't blame me for thinking that way, after all I am very well acquainted with Aurora Triumphans, possibly Evelyn de Morgan's best work which was sold as a Burne-Jones because someone had altered the monogram of EP (Evelyn Pickering) to be EBJ. Emma also used Mary Jones as a model, so that chin might not have led me astray, yet again the subject matter does not seem right for Emma Sandys.  So what about Anthony Sandys?

Frederick Sandys (1848) Anthony Sands

Well, more properly, Anthony Sands as Fred added the 'y' around the 1850s (possibly to distance himself from his father's work) and seems to have dragged Emma along from the ride - if we are adding the 'l' back into Elizabeth Sidal's name, are we dropping the 'y' in Emma Sandys, as arguably both (or neither) were decisions made by men for her? Anyway, the problem I have with it being Anthony's work is the colour.  In style, yes, it looks very much older than the Pre-Raphaelite style both Fred and Emma adopted, so it is more like that early style, however our girl by the sea is glowing in a very Pre-Raphaelite manner. Looking at the portrait of Fred above, it is that more traditional sepia of older paintings that are not on the white painted base. Hmmm...

The subject matter is contemporary so I wondered if it is based on a book.  I immediately thought of Trollope and the appearance of Yarmouth in Can You Forgive Her? which was published around 1864 and 1865, so could our girl be a character from that? Is she reading that? I think the parasol is rather small, so I don't know how much shade it is providing to the book, but obviously enough to allow her to keep reading while out and about.  So where does that leave us? It does seem, by the treatment of the subject, this is more likely to be Anthony's work, albeit later on and possibly on a white base. However, I also wonder if it is Mary Jones as model - she was already modelling for two Sandys, why not three? That chin doesn't lie. 

My last thought is, what is she reading? I like to think it's her sister's diary and she is about to learn a dark and scandalous secret which she can accidentally let slip over the dinner table. That'll teach her to make fun of that tiny parasol.

See you tomorrow

The Lady of Guildford...

For my Masters in Literature, my thesis was on Pictorial Tennyson, or a discussion on how illustration and fine art illuminate his poems.  Obviously, a fairly large amount was available on a certain Lady of Shalott, you know, the woman in the boat...

Elaine John Atkinson Grimshaw

Dying in a boat, floating off towards Camelot...hang on, who's that in the boat with her?  Oh yes, this isn't your actual Lady of Shalott but the Lady of Astolat, an unfortunate girl called Elaine, who died for the love of a man with shiny thighs...

Elaine and Lancelot Eleanor Fortescue Brickdale

Once upon a time, in a land where ladies wore pointy hats with scarves coming out the top and tables were round, there lived a lovely girl called Elaine.  Her dad, Bernard of Astolat (Bernard? I ask you...) decided to have a tournament and all the likely chaps of the country turned up, apart from Lancelot who was washing his hair.  Lancelot finally turned up late, like the diva he was, and looked fabulous.  Elaine begged him to wear her token for the tournament.  Lancelot said 'Sorry Babe, my best mate's wife is out there and I can't act like I fancy anyone else.'

Obviously, she fell in love with him, utterly.

Elaine and Lancelot Arthur Dixon

He agreed to fight in disguise, and when he was injured Elaine begged to nurse him back to health, while no doubt sighing in a smitten manner.  She did indeed tend him back to his former strength at which point he said 'Thanks for that, how much do I owe you?'

Elaine was somewhat disenchanted by this, and no doubt did a bit more sighing.

Lancelot left with some vague murmur of 'Sure, I'll call...' but after ten days of waiting, Elaine decided dying was a far more dignified exit than waiting for the telephone to be invented and then finding out he still won't call back.

Elaine Briton Riviere

Before she popped off, she left very specific instructions and in accordance she was rowed down to Camelot clutching a lily in one hand (in case anyone was wondering) and a letter of explanation in the other.  After he heard the contents of her letter, Lancelot felt a bit guilty and paid for her funeral.  He might have been cheating and shallow, but he had some manners after all.

The reason for my sudden interest in Elaine was occasioned by flicking through 'Country Life' (it arrived at my place of work and I always check out the deb and the picture of the week) and it was this rather gorgeous painting...

'The Dead Steer'd by the Dumb Went Upward With the Flood...'  (1904) Ernest Normand

Oh, sigh and swoon, what a lovely picture!  Rather than having just one lily in there with her, she looks like a mobile branch of Interflora, with a couple of decent candles and Bob the Boatman for company.  So I got to thinking about how Elaine is often the poor relation when it comes to 'Arthurian women who die in boats', even though she is the original.  Inspired by her appearance in Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur, Tennyson wrote her story in his Idylls of the King, and also used her as source material for the doomed maiden, The Lady of Shalott.  Often the iconography in illustrations of the two tales is similar, take for examples the above picture and this rather well known image of that Shalott woman...

The Lady of Shalott (1888) J W Waterhouse

The imagery of guttering, snuffing candles reflecting departed life, the luxurious fabrics, the shape of the boats.  Of course, poor Shalott didn't have Bob the Boatman, so had to do all the casting off and stuff herself, lucky old Elaine could snuff it in the comfort of knowing that there was staff available to do the rowing.

Elaine Edward Reginald Frampton

 Illustrations of Elaine follow one of three patterns.  A bit like her sister, the Lady of Shalott, her story seems to have three moments.  Whereas Shalott is either 'Half Sick of Shadows', 'Oh look, shiny thighs!' or 'Oops, I'm dead in a boat', then Elaine seems to be either snuggling up to Lancelot (and who wouldn't? I don't care if he's feckless and has the moral depth of a puddle), mooching around wondering if he'll ever love her (clue: he won't), or 'Oops, I'm dead in a boat'.  I love the above image from Frampton (who I think sounds like a Prog Rock star...) as it is so delicate and yet so powerful.  Elaine looks at Lancelot's shield, which she is keeping safe for him, and she is holding a beautiful cloth.  I love the warmth of the floor as compared to how ghost-like she seems.

Lancelot and Elaine (William Warder and May Princep) Julia Margaret Cameron

Julia Margaret Cameron did a marvellous set of Elaine photographs, including the above, which is a nice 'Elaine and Lancelot' moment.  It is what she excelled in; beautiful images of bygone, mythical years, full of romance and emotion, and slightly silly hats.

The Death of Elaine Julia Margaret Cameron

'Come, people of Camelot, gather in strange helmets and what might well be your pyjamas!'  This equally might be Lancelot saying the Lady of Shalott has a nice face, but I suspect the beardy type at the end is Bob the Boatman.

Elaine Emma Sandys

Possibly the best known and enigmatic of Elaine images is this one by Emma Sandys.  What point of the story is illustrated?  The angle is a little odd, is she lying down?  Is she dead in the boat?  It is an image of deep riches, the pearls glinting and the head of the skin behind her just peeking out.  What exactly is her left hand doing?  Is she thinking or is her ear itchy?  Strange and beautiful...

Elaine John Melhuish Strudwick

This offering by Strudwick is so damn Burne-Jones it's untrue, I had to check twice.  Look at the bending willow figure as she gazes on Lancelot's shield. It's another mooching shot, as poor, doomed Elaine looks at the shield (they didn't have telly) and sighs.  And sighs. And sighs.

Elaine (1899) William Loudan

Aside from illustrations from collections of Tennyson's work, or possibly illustrated Arthurian tales from the Victorian period, more painters than I expected addressed the subject of Elaine, and her pointless love of a handsome rat-weasel.  I love Loudan's work for its dark beauty and that rather splendid pot of Lilies that remind me of Rossetti's lilies in his Virgin Mary pictures.  Look at that poor lily, on the ground, ready to get stomped on.  I love the smell of symbolism in the morning....

The Lady Elaine the Fair Howard Pyle

I will leave you with this lovely pen and ink Elaine, her enigmatic expression and romantic surroundings.  Poor Elaine.  To add insult to injury, it is rumoured that Astolat, or Shalott, is actually Guildford in Surrey. Well, I guess the shopping isn't bad, but somehow it doesn't have the same ring to it... 'The curse has come upon me' said the Lady of Guildford... and it doesn't rhyme with Camelot, however clambering into a boat and dying seems a tad melodramatic to me.  If it was me, I'd saddle up a horse and ride off to Camelot and give that shiny thigh-ed wastrel a smack.

But then, I'm not from Guildford.  They are obviously more romantic and fragile up there...