Now You See Us

At Tate Britain

Self-portrait by Anne Killigrew (1660-1685).

Tate Britain feels like the poor cousin among the great art museums in London. It lacks the scale and buzz of Tate Modern, the location and dazzling collection of the National Gallery, and even palls beside the colourful glamour of the Wallace Collection. 

Its modest scale and surroundings do not attract attention, and its pale, cool corridors have almost the air of a hospital. 

However, it is a great venue for exhibitions, and I have seen some great ones there over the years, featuring Turner, Hogarth and others. 

But none were better than “Now You See Us: Women Artists in Britain, 1520–1920” (until October 20). If the main title gives its theme, the subtitle is a useful summary of the scope.¹

I can’t remember enjoying an exhibition more. To be honest, I felt a bit like Keats’ “stout Cortez”,

When with eagle eyes

He star'd at the Pacific²

Why was I only seeing these paintings for the first time now? I wondered. 

The quality of the paintings (sculptures and photos, too) was the key source of my delighted astonishment. But if you hang the work of 100 artists in a series of rooms without explanation or rationale, the audience soon grows tired or even confused (at least, I do). However, the curators of this show had done a great job of constructing a narrative, both a historical one and a cultural one, without over-explaining or lecturing. 

Above all, they avoided expressions of indignation about the almost complete exclusion of women from the world of art for centuries. They let not only the art but also the story speak for themselves. Although they left no doubt as to where they stood, the curators seemed to leave the viewer to connect with the art and also feel whatever degree of anger—or complacency—about this exclusion that they saw fit. 

They couldn’t avoid highlighting one obnoxious jibe, however, with a panel about Joshua Reynolds (1723–1792), saying, when he was the British Academy’s President, that working in pastel was unworthy of real artists and was “just what ladies do when they paint for their own amusement.”

The spirit of Reynolds seemed momentarily to live on in the figure of a man in his late 60s or early 70s with a patrician demeanour and accent who intoned with piercing clarity about the quality of the work on display to his two female companions. To be fair, after dismissing some of the work as second-rate, he was moved to admire other works quite strongly. And no doubt he was an expert of the highest calibre, whose every word on the subject could not fail to be of interest. 

However, the presence of a large group of primary (elementary) schoolchildren in the now habitual yellow hi-vis yellow jackets seemed somehow more in keeping with the spirit of the exhibition, as, at least for the short moments of their age-limited attention span, they brought an open mind and a sense of wonder to the works in front of them. 

It is a large exhibition, and one visit could not possibly do it full justice; nor can one short essay by this non-expert. But I’d like to share a few of the artists who initially caught my attention below and will return to this exhibition in a later post and perhaps via Notes. 

Anne Killigrew

A painter and poet, Killigrew died at the age of 25 of smallpox (1685). Who knows what she could have achieved if she had lived?

Her beautiful self-portrait is at the top of this page and was one of the most striking paintings in the exhibition.

Dryden wrote her a famous elegy after her untimely death, which almost seems to belong to my recent Tanabata post:

Whether, adopted to some neighbouring star,

Thou roll'st above us, in thy wand'ring race,

Or, in procession fix'd and regular,

Mov'd with the Heavens' majestic pace.³

Her style was not like those of other court painters, and it’s not known how she learned to paint. Her genius seemed to spring from nowhere. Dryden’s elegy went on to reference this lovely painting by her:

Anne Killigrew 1660-1685 Venus Attired by the Three Graces, c.1680. Oil paint on canvas.

Maria Cosway

In one of the earlier rooms of the exhibition, my eyes were irresistibly drawn to this striking and unusual painting: 

Maria Cosway 1759-1838 Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, as Cynthia 1781-1782 Oil paint on canvas

Here, Cosway depicts Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire, as the moon goddess Cynthia from the Elizabethan epic poem, The Faerie Queene, by Edmund Spenser (1552/3-1599).

My own photo is marred by some glare I couldn’t seem to avoid, but I think it preserves the colours better than this one on Wikipedia: 

A spectacular success when exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1782, this was the work with which Cosway made her mark in London, with a critic at the Morning Chronicle declaring Cosway “the first of female painters.”

Cosway lived an eventful life that included, for a time, a very strong attachment to Thomas Jefferson, who she met in Paris. 

Detail from Caroline, Princess of Wales, with her daughter, Princess Charlotte, 1801 Oil paint on canvas. 

The delightful work above was commissioned by the Princess, an indication of Cosway’s fame. But Cosway, who trained in Florence early in her career, never became a great commercial success, something she blamed on her husband, who didn’t want her to paint professionally. She later reflected that she would have made “a better painter. But left to myself by degrees, instead of improving, I lost what I brought from Italy of my early studies."

Eleanor Forescue-Brickdale

Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale 1872-1945 The Deceitfulness of Riches. Oil paint on canvas

I found myself rocking back on my heels at the sheer gorgeousness of this large painting, especially the swirling galaxy of colour in that orange dress! The beauty of the dress is balanced by its didactic power, a beacon signalling the dangers of wealth, as per the title of the painting. It seems to draw the viewer into moral danger, more siren than lighthouse. 

Fortescue-Brickdale was part of the “Neo-Pre-Raphaelites” the last generation of the Pre-Raphaelites. In 1901, Fortescue-Brickdale exhibited The Deceitfulness of Riches at the Royal Academy. A solo exhibition of 45 of her watercolours was on display elsewhere in London at the same time. Together, they apparently caused a sensation (which I can well believe), with the artist gaining widespread admiration and her work attracting huge crowds. "Rarely, if ever, has a woman painter made a great reputation as quickly and thoroughly as Miss Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale,” claimed one journal. 

Gwen John

The exhibition reached the beginning of the modern era. Gwen John’s famous self-portrait was used in the exhibition poster and is perhaps the best-known work in the show. 

John, whose reputation as one of the most significant British artists of her time continues to grow, exhibited this self-portrait at the New English Art Club (NEAC) in 1900. It was her debut as an exhibitor. The NEAC had apparently been founded as “a forward-thinking group, created out of dissatisfaction with the art establishment, exemplified by the conservative Royal Academy.”

Tutors from the Slade, where John had trained, were on the NEAC committee. Despite its progressive stance, however, in 1900, John was one of only 16 female exhibitors among 75 men. According to the curators, John's choice to show a self-portrait was perhaps a deliberate assertion of her presence.

The self-portrait shows John with a quiet but penetrating gaze. It’s a beautiful portrait, and I spent time in front of it, despite it coming near the end of a whole morning’s viewing. 

Gwen John, 1876–1939. Self-portrait, 1900. Oil paint on canvas

The exhibition has brought so many excellent artists into view for me. With its cleverly understated title, narrative, and well-chosen works, the show feels like a public service. But it’s also, for anyone lucky enough to see it, a source of personal joy. 

1. To read a review of the exhibition, try the excellent one here in the Guardian by Katy Hessel, writer of the Substack

The Great Women Artists

.

2. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44481/on-first-looking-into-chapmans-homer

3. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44190/to-the-pious-memory-of-the-accomplished-young-lady-mrs-anne-killigrew