Lady In The Dark: I met a lady in the meads, /Full beautiful—a faery’s child./Her hair was long, her foot was light/ And her eyes were wild.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

I met a lady in the meads, /Full beautiful—a faery’s child./Her hair was long, her foot was light/ And her eyes were wild.

I find it a tricky to talk about art in a non-academic context in a way that doesn't sound horribly clichéd and twee. I don't know why the visual arts are more difficult to discuss than, say, books or theatre. I did History of Art for A-level and had a thoroughly interesting time with two of the most passionate, knowledgeable teachers I've ever had, and I was able to return to it when I did my finalist dissertation (on the representation of women in the Victorian Arthurian revival). For some reason, I've always been drawn to the work of John William Waterhouse. It sounds so quaint, but he depicts certain moments that tell a story in themselves. He's often mislabeled as a 'Pre-Raphaelite' because of his subject matter (medieval knights and damsels etc), but he was born in the year the Brotherhood formed (1848) and was never professionally or socially affiliated with any of them (as an Academician, I assume he would have met Millais, but have no idea about Rossetti or Hunt, or Burne-Jones or Morris). There's certainly an aura of mystery about his life in the sense that nothing really remarkable happened in it. It wouldn't make much of a Desperate Romantics style dramatisation, and yet he created some of the most beautiful, haunting images of different kinds of femininity that I've ever seen. Who says that something extraordinary can't come out of an ordinary life?

The Royal Academy has assembled a splendid array of paintings, most of which I'll probably never see again in my lifetime as so many are in private collections. It's easy to see why they're so collectible, but I still think it's rather selfish. None of the Ophelia images were present, unfortunately, but two out of three of the Ladies of Shalott were- I've seen the famous barge scene quite a few times (yay for the Tate!), and I was glad to see the 1914 "I am Half Sick of Shadows" as a contrast. It's a more womanly, (Millais-style) Mariana-like take on Elaine than what we're used to. It was interesting seeing some his lesser-known early work (several Roman scenes, and an earlier version of Shakespeare's Miranda that I'd never even heard of), but the real treat was seeing the paintings I've admired in books for years in person. There really is no substitute. I was particularly enthralled by Circe Invidiosa- the striking vertical composition and the stunning use of colour. No re-production can do the bright turquoise justice. I've always liked Circe as a character even though she's rather evil (best known for turning Odysseus' men into pigs, but in this painting she's pouring poison into the sea to turn her love rival, Scylla, into a canine sea monster- so deliciously evil). Circe Offering The Cup to Odysseus is another great example of this wonderful character in all her glory. Waterhouse is also one of the only painters to portray Medea in a positive light; so many people just can't see past the child killing. Keats's La Belle Dame sans Merci has long been a favourite poem of mine, and I think Waterhouse's painting captures the lucid sensuality to perfection. It's the hair and haunting eyes. I also adored the sketches, which are astonishingly intense in their simplicity. Infinitely more powerful and memorable than the huge Roman scenes, and on a par with the paintings of goddesses and femmes fatales.

So yes, a lovely exhibition. Finishing on Sunday, so hurry up...