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VISIONS OF SISTERHOOD

Ahead of a new exhibition, we reveal the varied fortunes of the groundbrea­king Pre-Raphaelite women

- By CATRIONA GRAY

A major new exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery reveals the untold stories of the 12 women who, as models and muses, lovers and wives, became the defining faces of the Pre-Raphaelite movement, while also making their own creative contributi­on, and forging lives that broke free from the confines of the male perspectiv­e

The Pre-Raphaelite school may have started out as a brotherhoo­d, but today it is best remembered for its women. They gaze out from the canvases, with rosebud mouths, flowing tresses, alabaster skin and heavy-lidded eyes. From vicar’s daughters to shop girls, they came from all walks of life, and you can trace their stories through the paintings they sat for. Perhaps more than with any other movement, the glamour of the Pre-Raphaelite­s has steadily increased over time. In their day, the foremost models would have been recognised only within a small stratum of London society, whereas now, more than 170 years on, they have acquired a global cult following. ‘For collectors, a portrait of a Pre-Raphaelite woman is always far more desirable than one of a man,’ says Jan Marsh, who has curated a major new exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery that explores the lives of a dozen female models and artists of this genre. ‘People are very passionate about them – you can even find dedicated fan sites.’ Some of these figures, such as Lizzie Siddal and Jane Morris, have been elevated almost to the level of mythical beings, their humble origins, romantic relationsh­ips and beguiling looks making them the subject of intense interest. Alison Smith, the chief curator of the National Portrait Gallery and a specialist in 19th-century British art, recalls an experience with a particular devotee. ‘This woman genuinely believed that she was Jane Morris,’ she recalls. ‘She used to follow me everywhere, insisting that she was her – although to be honest, there wasn’t much of a resemblanc­e.’

Despite being a source of endless fascinatio­n, the Pre-Raphaelite

women are nonetheles­s viewed within the context of the men who painted them. There are exceptions, of course – Christina Rossetti, for example, was not just a muse but a well-known poet in her own right, whose memorable compositio­ns include In the Bleak Midwinter and the avant-garde Goblin Market. Yet for the most part, their characters remain enigmatic, and it is this peculiar void that the forthcomin­g exhibition attempts to address, by exploring the personalit­ies behind these beautiful faces. Their appearance may have been languid and wistful, but in reality they were a new breed of women – emancipate­d, socially mobile and rebelling against the Victorian convention­s that shaped their world.

When John Everett Millais, Dante Gabriel Rossetti and William Holman Hunt first formed the brotherhoo­d in 1848, their aim was to make studies from nature, and ‘to sympathise with what is direct and serious and heartfelt in previous art, to the exclusion of what is convention­al and self-parading and learned by rote’. Drawing inspiratio­n from the mediaeval era, as well as from the Romanticis­m of the preceding century, they began searching for faces that intrigued or impassione­d them. Not content to use the life models who worked in art schools or private studios, they cast their net for girls Rossetti referred to as ‘stunners’, enlisting relatives, acquaintan­ces, shop assistants and servants: the Jamaican model Fanny Eaton, for instance, modelled as a way of supplement­ing her income as a charwoman. Her dark skin and ‘very fine head and figure’, as Rossetti put it in an 1865 letter to Ford Madox Brown, presented a conspicuou­s contrast to Victorian ideals of beauty, subverting expectatio­ns about black women in society.

A more typical embodiment of the Pre-Raphaelite look comes in the form of Lizzie Siddal, who is instantly recognisab­le for her mane of flaming red hair. She was from a working-class background but had ambitions to be an artist, and at 20, began modelling for Walter Deverell and Holman Hunt. Her ability to hold difficult poses – sometimes kneeling for hours at a time – was unparallel­ed, though she was plagued by ill health throughout her short life; on one occasion, she almost died after lying in a bath of freezing water for Millais’s Ophelia. Yet while Siddal is often presented as a tragic figure, suffering to facilitate great art, she clearly also possessed

a steely determinat­ion. Not convention­ally beautiful, she took modelling seriously, and used it as a way to gain access into a creative milieu, starting to produce her own work after becoming the muse, lover and, finally, wife of Rossetti. When his sister Christina also took up sketching, he warned her in a letter to ‘take care however not to rival the Sid, but keep within respectful limits’, offering a glimpse into just how passionate Siddal was about pursuing her art. Sadly, the potential for her talent to flourish was cut short; a laudanum addiction, combined with severe depression worsened by a stillbirth, led to her untimely death at just 32. It is perhaps unfortunat­e that the Gothic details surroundin­g her demise, such as the story of Rossetti exhuming her coffin in order to retrieve a manuscript of poems he had buried with her, have tended to overshadow her remarkable life.

A rather happier ending awaited Effie Gray, who left her first husband, the art critic John Ruskin, for Millais, the two having fallen in love when Millais travelled up to Scotland to paint Ruskin’s portrait. Trapped in a stultifyin­g, sexless marriage, Gray found her life changed utterly when she moved in with the Pre-Raphaelite artist – they ended up having eight children, and she acted as his unofficial manager, booking the models, making sure the studio ran smoothly and liaising with clients. It is fascinatin­g to observe the contrast between the portrait that her first husband commission­ed of her and those that were drawn by her second. The former, by Thomas Richmond, shows a classic Victorian maiden, smiling sweetly, with sloping shoulders and a tightly corseted waist. ‘It is the most lovely piece of oil painting but much prettier than me,’ Gray wrote to her mother at the time, apparently struggling to identify with the image. ‘I look like a graceful doll but John and his father are delighted with it.’ It certainly bears little resemblanc­e to the studies that Millais made of her, in which she appears stronger and more selfcontai­ned, with the face of a real person, rather than a delicate miniature. Gray quite literally escaped from the Victorian archetype of the ‘angel in the house’ and became an equal partner in a relationsh­ip that allowed her to thrive.

Another woman who found her circumstan­ces transforme­d by marriage into this set was Jane Morris, the daughter of a stable-hand and a laundress. Born Jane Burden, she was so striking in her youth that Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones asked her to pose for their series of Arthurian murals. Through them, she met William Morris, who fell in love with her and swiftly proposed. While not necessaril­y returning his affection, she seems to have recognised the advantages that such a marriage would bring, and had no hesitation in accepting his offer. Following their engagement, she decisively set about

reinventin­g herself, losing her rustic accent and becoming one of the central figures of the later Pre-Raphaelite movement – she is even said to have inspired the character of Eliza Doolittle. Morris later became the principal sitter for Rossetti, with whom she embarked on a long-running affair after Siddal’s death; between 1865 and 1876, she would spend time with her lover away from prying eyes at Kelmscott Manor in Oxfordshir­e, apparently with the full knowledge of her husband, who rented the property jointly with Ross-etti. Morris appears in many of Rossetti’s pictures, instantly recognisab­le with her cloud of dark hair, low brow and classical features. ‘She was probably the ultimate Pre-Raphaelite model, as she had such distinctiv­e looks, and her beauty endured even as an oldwoman,’ says Alison Smith.

Yet Morris was far from a passive muse – her husband had set up a cottage industry producing decorative works, and she created her own role within the pioneering Arts and Crafts company, helped by her embroidery skills. As the business expanded, she took over the management of the needlework commission­s, supervisin­g the stitching of altar cloths, vestments, curtains and coverlets. An evening bag embroidere­d by Morris is now held at the V&A, its exquisitel­y sewn flowers showing the care and patience that she devoted to her craft. She passed this talent on to her two daughters, both of whom themselves became noted embroidere­rs.

Annie Miller had a similar trajectory to Jane Morris, rising from an impoverish­ed background through modelling and appearing in celebrated works such as Rossetti’s Woman in Yellow. Holman Hunt, who discovered Miller and became besotted with her, sent her to be educated, but their on-off relationsh­ip eventually foundered. Miller went on to wed a military gentleman, settling into a life of comfortabl­e middle-class prosperity. Not all models enjoyed such happy endings; Fanny Cornforth also had a long-running affair with Rossetti (something of a theme among Pre-Raphaelite muses), yet ended her days penniless and senile in a West Sussex asylum. In common with many of her peers, Cornforth saw the brotherhoo­d as a means of advancemen­t, but unlike Morris and Miller, she did not manage to secure the elusive long-term security that was only achievable through a fortuitous marriage.

Each of the 12 women in the exhibition had different motivation­s for their associatio­ns with the Pre-Raphaelite­s, but what unites them is their ambition, and a desire to shape and control their own lives in a way that ran bravely against 19th-century expectatio­ns. The movement broke new ground with its art, but the most compelling stories of all are the ones behind the paintings, the colourful histories of its seemingly serene muses.

‘Pre-Raphaelite Sisters’ is at the National Portrait Gallery (www.npg.org. uk) from 17 October to 26 January 2020.

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 ??  ?? This page: Jane Morris featured in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘The Day Dream’
(1880). Opposite: John Everett Millais’s ‘Ophelia’ (1865–1866), for which Elizabeth Siddal modelled
This page: Jane Morris featured in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘The Day Dream’ (1880). Opposite: John Everett Millais’s ‘Ophelia’ (1865–1866), for which Elizabeth Siddal modelled
 ??  ?? Left: Christina, Maria and Dante Gabriel Rossetti with their mother in 1863. Below: Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘Ecce Ancilla Domini! (The Annunciati­on)’ (1849–1850), featuring Christina
Left: Christina, Maria and Dante Gabriel Rossetti with their mother in 1863. Below: Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘Ecce Ancilla Domini! (The Annunciati­on)’ (1849–1850), featuring Christina
 ??  ?? Left: ‘Elizabeth Siddal’ (about 1854)
by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Below: ‘The Flaming Heart’ (about 1863), featuring Annie Miller, attributed to
Charles Fairfax Murray, after Dante
Gabriel Rossetti
Left: ‘Elizabeth Siddal’ (about 1854) by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Below: ‘The Flaming Heart’ (about 1863), featuring Annie Miller, attributed to Charles Fairfax Murray, after Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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 ??  ?? Left: ‘Effie Ruskin’ (1851) by Thomas Richmond. Below: ‘Effie Millais’ (1853) by John Everett Millais. Right: Effie and John Everett
Millais with their daughters Effie and Mary, photograph­ed in
1865 by Charles Lutwidge Dodgson
(Lewis Carroll)
Left: ‘Effie Ruskin’ (1851) by Thomas Richmond. Below: ‘Effie Millais’ (1853) by John Everett Millais. Right: Effie and John Everett Millais with their daughters Effie and Mary, photograph­ed in 1865 by Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (Lewis Carroll)
 ??  ?? Near right: Simeon Solomon’s ‘Study for the Mother of Moses’ (1859), featuring Fanny Eaton. Far right: Eaton in Albert Moore’s ‘Mother of
Sisera’ (1861)
Near right: Simeon Solomon’s ‘Study for the Mother of Moses’ (1859), featuring Fanny Eaton. Far right: Eaton in Albert Moore’s ‘Mother of Sisera’ (1861)
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 ??  ?? Right: Jane Morris in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘Proserpine’ (1877). Below: Morris
photograph­ed by John Robert Parsons
in 1865. Bottom: Fanny Cornforth in Rossetti’s ‘The Blue
Bower’ (1865)
Right: Jane Morris in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘Proserpine’ (1877). Below: Morris photograph­ed by John Robert Parsons in 1865. Bottom: Fanny Cornforth in Rossetti’s ‘The Blue Bower’ (1865)
 ??  ?? Above: Jane Morris (front
row, second from right) with her husband William
Morris (standing, back right), Edward Burne-Jones (sitting behind her with his father), his wife Georgiana (far left) and the children of both families in 1874. Clockwise from right: an evening bag stitched by Jane
Morris in 1878. Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘Woman in Yellow’ (1863), featuring Annie Miller. An
1865 photograph of
Fanny Cornforth
Above: Jane Morris (front row, second from right) with her husband William Morris (standing, back right), Edward Burne-Jones (sitting behind her with his father), his wife Georgiana (far left) and the children of both families in 1874. Clockwise from right: an evening bag stitched by Jane Morris in 1878. Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘Woman in Yellow’ (1863), featuring Annie Miller. An 1865 photograph of Fanny Cornforth
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