The Muse

Through the art of portraiture, the sitter is immortalised. It is understandable, therefore, that artists devote their work, and often their lives, to their chosen subjects. It is one thing to be an artist's model, another to be their muse. Muses encapsulate the artist's vision and subsequently, if the artist becomes well known, the muse becomes the face of the time period in which they collaborated. Their lives are often as colourful as their artworks; Artists and muses are notorious for passionate affairs of mind and body. Today we delve into the stories of two muses who have been the subjects of my own artwork, and whose lives are as extraordinary as the artists they inspired.

Lee Miller, the muse of Man Ray

Elizabeth (Lee) Miller was the femme fatale of the surrealist movement. Though a talented artist in her own right, her first glimpse of fame appeared in unlikely circumstances. Stepping out into the path of an oncoming vehicle, a young Lee Miller was rescued by a man she later found out to be the one and only Conde Nast. The publisher saw potential in her and demanded she modelled for his magazine. In the blink of an eye, Miller had moved from the streets of Manhattan to the cover of Vogue.

Her modelling career led her to mix in more artistic circles. Her own work received high praise, her looks were unrivalled and her rebellious attitude towards society made her a prime proponent for the Surrealist movement taking off in Paris. This led Miller to be recommended to Man Ray as a potential model. She simply presented herself at the front door of his Paris home and the rest was history.

Described as 'more than a muse', Miller and Man Ray were more accurately described as partners in surrealism; 'she was made for it, and it for her' said her son, Antony Penrose.Alongside their passionate physical relationship, Man Ray honoured her physical form through his camera lens (even devoting a whole collection of artworks to her lips) and honoured her mind through artistic collaborations.

Miller supposedly drove him to madness, but their devastating separation in 1932 led their tortured hearts to produce some of their best work. The pair reconciled in 1937 and remained close friends. After their separation, Miller had space to explore her independent creativity. Her photography and past modelling career with Vogue secured her a position as the magazine's war correspondent. Miller was thrown from a world of surrealism and artists to the harsh reality of Dachau concentration camp. Miller photographed the most harrowing images the publication had ever released and was left with PTSD which her family later told interviewers greatly affected their relationships. In potentially the most underrated piece of journalistic history, Miller fell into the right place at the right time as she found herself exploring Hitler's abandoned Munich apartment after he fled on his last day of life.

I fell in love with Lee Miller while researching the lighting techniques of black and white photographers. The book I flipped through was dedicated to the work of Man Ray, but Miller's was the name I left with. Aside from having a beautiful simplicity of face that forced me to scroll through endless images from her modelling days, it was her incredible story that made me finally put pencil to paper. The above image, named after the muse herself, can be found in the 'Gallery' and was produced in a six hour Miller documentary fuelled sitting.

Lizzie Siddal, the muse of Rossetti

Much like Lee Miller, Elizabeth 'Lizzie' Siddal, was an artist and poet in her own right, but is most famed for her associations with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. Dante Gabriel Rossetti and William Holman Hunt were introduced to Siddal by Walter Howell Deverell who excitedly announced “You fellows can’t tell what a stupendously beautiful creature I have found. She’s like a queen, magnificently tall.”. Siddal had worked in a milliners shop when she was spied by Deverell. Negotiating between their mothers led to Siddal being permitted to work as his artist's model.

She first modelled for Rossetti in 1850 and was quickly established as his lover. He demanded Siddal modelled for him alone, alongside having a string of affairs during their ten year engagement. Siddal became a recognisable face in art through Millais' celebrated work Ophelia. Her looks redefined beauty, her long auburn hair became synonymous with the Pre-Raphaelite movement.

Rossetti produced fully rendered works picturing Siddal but, most notably, thousands of sketches. The Pre-Raphaelites often sketched using umber pencils and went on to use these as studies for larger compositions. My sketch above was inspired by a visit to Wightwick Manor in Wolverhampton, home to an extensive collection of Rossetti's, Burne-Jones' and more, and was completed using this method. I produced the piece to better understand the painters' process and to combine the patterns of William Morris and artworks by Rossetti that I had fallen in love with at the property.

Rossetti began to teach Siddal to paint; Ruskin proclaimed her a 'genius'. She was the only female exhibitor in the Brotherhood's 1857 London exhibition. After gaining some recognition, Siddal broke free of Rossetti's controlling tutelage and their troubled relationship to make it as an artist in her own right.

When Siddal fell gravely ill, Rossetti was contacted. He rushed to her and, forgetting the troubles that had passed between them, the two were married as soon as she was strong enough. Siddal struggled with an addiction to laudanum which resulted in the couple's first child being stillborn. She fell into a deep depression which led to paranoia about her husband's fidelity, which had supposedly remained intact since their marriage.

Siddal was left alone one night while her husband taught a class. Rossetti said she had taken her usual dose of laudanum (around half a bottle) when he left, but when he returned the bottle was entirely empty and a note had been left on the table. She could not be saved. On the advice of a friend, Rossetti burnt the suicide note so that Siddal was not denied a traditional Christian burial. She had been pregnant again at the time of her death leading some to theorise that she took her life based on anxieties caused by the tragedy of her first pregnancy.

I was familiar with the recurring auburn haired woman in Pre-Raphaelite artwork, but only discovered her to be Lizzie Siddal when I stumbled upon her status as somewhat of a cult figure in the world of the gothic. When Siddal was buried, Rossetti placed the only copies of his poetry into her coffin. Seven years later, he decided against this and her coffin was secretly exhumed from Highgate Cemetery. It is said that when they opened the coffin, Siddal was perfectly preserved; her corpse had not rotted and her hair had grown around her body to fill the coffin.

There are individuals who believe Siddal exists somewhere between life and death. We are brought back, by this quite literal representation, to the idea that artists are able to immortalise their muses. Whether Lizzie Siddal lies in Highgate Cemetery with her famed auburn locks intact or is decaying just as any mortal being would, her image, like Lee Miller's, lives on through art.

References

Hawksley, L., 2020.The Tragedy Of Art's Greatest Supermodel. [online] BBC Culture. Available at: <https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20200103-the-tragedy-of-arts-greatest-supermodel> [Accessed 5 August 2020].

Lee Miller-A Life on the Front Line. 2020. [Documentary Film] Directed by T. Griffiths. UK: BBC Arts, Erica Starling Productions, Met Films Sales, Ronachan Films.

NPR. 2011.Much More Than A Muse: The Art Of Lee Miller And Man Ray. [online] Available at: <https://www.npr.org/2011/08/20/139766533/much-more-than-a-muse-lee-miller-and-man-ray?t=1598389629545> [Accessed 5 August 2020].