J.W. Waterhouse - The Modern Pre-Raphaelite

Loved by the public, derided by critics, this exhibition asks us to re-think J.W. Waterhouse’s contribution to British art.

The Academician’s clone-like perception of female beauty – alabaster maidens with impossibly long hair, swathed in luxurious, sheer cloth –  have long made him an object of mockery by those ‘ in the know’ and yet The Lady of Shalott, probably his most famous work, is Tate Britain’s best-selling postcard.

Waterhouse’s popularity is understandable; his work is romantic and inoffensive. The problem is its narrowness, his women are either femme fatales tempting men to their deaths or virginal, forlorn maidens; most canvases are bereft of psychological drama or intensity.

That said, it was a pleasure to see his Lady of Shalott for real, having seen it reproduced countless times. Its real-life scale and tonal qualities are impressive.  Although the ‘Lady’ is rowing to her death the canvas is vibrant and alive with colour and loose brushstrokes, similar to those of an Impressionist.

Waterhouse (who was the youngest of the Pre-Raphaelite brotherhood)   often took inspiration from literature and Ancient Greece and Rome,  particularly the characters Circe and Persephone, and his Circe Invidiosa  is a wondrous display of peacock blues and greens. Waterhouse gives the enchantress a disconcerting expression as she poisons the sea in order to disfigure her love-rival, making her the most striking character in this exhibition.

Indeed the more interesting women such as Circe are invariably wicked – but then this line of thought is completely in keeping with the beliefs of Victorian England, which feared female sexuality.

And the artist’s penchant for displaying his subjects as half-dressed, girl-women has drawn some negative debate. St Eulalia was inspired by the story of the 12 year-old Spanish girl who was martyred for refusing to follow Roman paganism. Instead of showing her as a prepubescent girl, Waterhouse presents a bare-chested woman splayed on a snow-covered ground, her flame hair, seeping around her hair like blood.

This, perhaps, is supposed to be erotic, as are many of the works, but they come across as too polite. Despite this, Waterhouse’s romanticism and too-tame sexuality still retains popularity. In 2000 Sir Andrew Lloyd-Webber bought St Celia for £6.6 million.

This isn’t gritty, thinking art but then there’s nothing wrong with a little beauty and romance.
 
J.W. Waterhouse - The Modern Pre-Raphaelite, at The Royal Academy, Burlington House, Piccadilly, London, W1J 0BD, until 13th September.