BURNE-JONES, Edward

Burne-Jones’s sense of design was pronounced during his early years, and he was associated with many progressive architects of the Gothic Revival. Stained glass was his particular forte; in 1857 he designed the first of a number of windows for James Powell & Sons. In 1861 he helped to found the firm of Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co. (from 1875 Morris & Co.), which produced stained glass, furniture, wallpaper and fabrics, soon becoming their chief designer of figure subjects for stained glass and tiles.

The church of All Hallows in Allerton was built between 1872 and 1876 in Gothic Revival style. The finest feature of the church is its stained glass. Of the 15 windows, 14 were designed by Edward Burne-Jones, with some input from William Morris, and were made by Morris & Co. The east window was made in 1875-86 and depicts the Adoration of the Lamb. Burne-Jones also claimed that this was his finest piece of work.

The picture shows one of a pair of tapestries entitled “Flora and Pomona” designed by Edward Burne-Jones and woven at Morris and Company.

From the 1880s, Morris turned his attention to tapestry. Burne-Jones supplied the designs for tapestries, of which for Flora was his first for the company.

In Greek mythology, the Hesperides are nymphs who live in a beautiful garden, situated in the Arcadian Mountains (Greece) or, alternatively, at the western extreme of the Mediterranean, near Mt. Atlas (hence they are sometimes considered daughters of Atlas). In this garden grows the tree with the golden apples which Gaia had given as a present to Hera on her wedding to Zeus. This garden is guarded by Ladon, a dragon with a hundred heads. The only one who succeeded in obtaining some of the apples was Heracles, who tricked Atlas to get them for him. Thus Heracles completed the eleventh of his Twelve Labours.

Sabra, the daughter of the king, is the Princess in the legend of St George, who is saved from the dragon by the Saint.

In his later life, Burne-Jones still provided Morris with a seemingly endless flow of stained-glass cartoons, their work in this field culminating in the four enormous windows made for St Philip’s Cathedral, Birmingham (1885-97). During the 1880s, Morris turned his attention to tapestry. Burne-Jones supplied the designs, their greatest achievement being the Holy Grail series completed in 1894 for Stanmore Hall, Uxbridge, near London.

The Arming and Departure of the Knights is number 2 of the Holy Grail tapestries woven by Morris & Co. in 1891-94 for Stanmore Hall. The tapestry in Birmingham was woven by Morris & Co. for Lawrence Hodson of Compton Hall in 1895-96.

This picture is number 8 in the Perseus Cycle depicting the stories of Perseus. The picture, like other members of the series, draws upon the version of the Perseus legend that appears in William Morris’s “The Doom of King Acrisius” from The Earthly Paradise.

During his flight, Perseus uses Medusa’s head to turn Atlas to stone after the giant refuses him hospitality. In the next incident (which Burne-Jones later divided into two scenes), Perseus discovers the naked Andromeda bound to a rock as a sacrifice to appease the sea-god Poseidon. After destroying the sea monster, he bears Andromeda to the court of her father, who offers his daughter in marriage. The wedding feast is interrupted by Phineus, another of Andromeda’s suitors, but he and his followers are also turned to stone by Perseus. Finally, Perseus shows Andromeda the reflection of Medusa’s head as a means of convincing her of his own divinity and thereby wins her love.

About 1860, Burne-Jones turned to watercolour as his primary medium, and in 1864 he was elected an Associate of the Old Water-Colour Society (OWCS). This brought his work before a wide public for the first time. It was never popular with the more conservative members and was often savagely attacked in the press. For seven years after resigning from the OWCS, Burne-Jones hardly exhibited, but at the opening exhibition at the Grosvenor Gallery, London, in 1877, he showed eight large works. They included The Beguiling of Merlin (1873-77; Lady Lever Art Gallery, Port Sunlight), The Mirror of Venus (1873-77; Museu Calouste Gulbenkian, Lisbon), and The Days of Creation (1871-76; Fogg Art Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge). This dramatic revelation of his mature powers established him overnight as the star of the Grosvenor, a key figure in the Aesthetic Movement and one of the leading artists of the day.

The Beguiling of Merlin depicts a scene from the Arthurian legend about the infatuation of Merlin with the Lady of the Lake, Nimue. Merlin is shown trapped, helpless in a hawthorn bush as Nimue reads from a book of spells.

About 1860, Burne-Jones turned to watercolour as his primary medium, and in 1864 he was elected an Associate of the Old Water-Colour Society (OWCS). This brought his work before a wide public for the first time. It was never popular with the more conservative members and was often savagely attacked in the press. For seven years after resigning from the OWCS, Burne-Jones hardly exhibited, but at the opening exhibition at the Grosvenor Gallery, London, in 1877, he showed eight large works. They included The Beguiling of Merlin (1873-77; Lady Lever Art Gallery, Port Sunlight), The Mirror of Venus (1873-77; Museu Calouste Gulbenkian, Lisbon), and The Days of Creation (1871-76; Fogg Art Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge). This dramatic revelation of his mature powers established him overnight as the star of the Grosvenor, a key figure in the Aesthetic Movement and one of the leading artists of the day.

In 1871, Burne-Jones began work on the series of The Days of Creation. He worked on the angels off and on through 1876. The series consists of six panels, one for each day, with an angel at rest seated at the bottom of the sixth panel for the seventh day. The custom frame to hold the six panels was designed by Burne-Jones. The primary model for the angels was Jenny, William Morris’s elder daughter, although her younger sister, May, also appears in some panels.

In one panel after another, an angel comes to the fore holding a globe, rather like a large crystal ball. At first, only one angel appears, to be superseded by another in the next panel, and so on, until all six are present in the last panel. As for the angel at the front, each presents a scene associated with the particular day of creation: trees on the third day, for example, a flock of birds on the fifth. The scenes are to some extent mysterious, suggesting more than they show, except perhaps for the last one, of a pale and slender Eve, with a taller, darker Adam. In front of this one, a seventh angel is sitting and playing a stringed instrument - no doubt praising God for the creation. The conception is altogether worthy of the artist, and the globes add a thrilling touch of mystery or miracle.

The Fourth Day panel was cut from its frame during a dinner party in Dunster House at Harvard University in 1970. It has never been recovered.

In 1871, Burne-Jones began work on the series of The Days of Creation. He worked on the angels off and on through 1876. The series consists of six panels, one for each day, with an angel at rest seated at the bottom of the sixth panel for the seventh day. The custom frame to hold the six panels was designed by Burne-Jones. The primary model for the angels was Jenny, William Morris’s elder daughter, although her younger sister, May, also appears in some panels.

In one panel after another, an angel comes to the fore holding a globe, rather like a large crystal ball. At first, only one angel appears, to be superseded by another in the next panel, and so on, until all six are present in the last panel. As for the angel at the front, each presents a scene associated with the particular day of creation: trees on the third day, for example, a flock of birds on the fifth. The scenes are to some extent mysterious, suggesting more than they show, except perhaps for the last one, of a pale and slender Eve, with a taller, darker Adam. In front of this one, a seventh angel is sitting and playing a stringed instrument - no doubt praising God for the creation. The conception is altogether worthy of the artist, and the globes add a thrilling touch of mystery or miracle. There is an inscription on the back of the panel: This picture is not complete by itself but is No. 5 of a series of six watercolour pictures representing the Days of Creation, which are placed in a frame designed by the Painter, from which he desires they may not be removed.

In 1871, Burne-Jones began work on the series of The Days of Creation. He worked on the angels off and on through 1876. The series consists of six panels, one for each day, with an angel at rest seated at the bottom of the sixth panel for the seventh day. The custom frame to hold the six panels was designed by Burne-Jones. The primary model for the angels was Jenny, William Morris’s elder daughter, although her younger sister, May, also appears in some panels.

In one panel after another, an angel comes to the fore holding a globe, rather like a large crystal ball. At first, only one angel appears, to be superseded by another in the next panel, and so on, until all six are present in the last panel. As for the angel at the front, each presents a scene associated with the particular day of creation: trees on the third day, for example, a flock of birds on the fifth. The scenes are to some extent mysterious, suggesting more than they show, except perhaps for the last one, of a pale and slender Eve, with a taller, darker Adam. In front of this one, a seventh angel is sitting and playing a stringed instrument - no doubt praising God for the creation. The conception is altogether worthy of the artist, and the globes add a thrilling touch of mystery or miracle. There is an inscription on the back of the panel: This picture is not complete by itself but is No. 1 of a series of six watercolour pictures representing the Days of Creation, which are placed in a frame designed by the Painter, from which he desires they may not be removed.

In 1871, Burne-Jones began work on the series of The Days of Creation. He worked on the angels off and on through 1876. The series consists of six panels, one for each day, with an angel at rest seated at the bottom of the sixth panel for the seventh day. The custom frame to hold the six panels was designed by Burne-Jones. The primary model for the angels was Jenny, William Morris’s elder daughter, although her younger sister, May, also appears in some panels.

In one panel after another, an angel comes to the fore holding a globe, rather like a large crystal ball. At first, only one angel appears, to be superseded by another in the next panel, and so on, until all six are present in the last panel. As for the angel at the front, each presents a scene associated with the particular day of creation: trees on the third day, for example, a flock of birds on the fifth. The scenes are to some extent mysterious, suggesting more than they show, except perhaps for the last one, of a pale and slender Eve, with a taller, darker Adam. In front of this one, a seventh angel is sitting and playing a stringed instrument - no doubt praising God for the creation. The conception is altogether worthy of the artist, and the globes add a thrilling touch of mystery or miracle. There is an inscription on the back of the panel: This picture is not complete by itself but is No. 2 of a series of six watercolour pictures representing the Days of Creation, which are placed in a frame designed by the Painter, from which he desires they may not be removed.

In 1871, Burne-Jones began work on the series of The Days of Creation. He worked on the angels off and on through 1876. The series consists of six panels, one for each day, with an angel at rest seated at the bottom of the sixth panel for the seventh day. The custom frame to hold the six panels was designed by Burne-Jones. The primary model for the angels was Jenny, William Morris’s elder daughter, although her younger sister, May, also appears in some panels.

In one panel after another, an angel comes to the fore holding a globe, rather like a large crystal ball. At first, only one angel appears, to be superseded by another in the next panel, and so on, until all six are present in the last panel. As for the angel at the front, each presents a scene associated with the particular day of creation: trees on the third day, for example, a flock of birds on the fifth. The scenes are to some extent mysterious, suggesting more than they show, except perhaps for the last one, of a pale and slender Eve, with a taller, darker Adam. In front of this one, a seventh angel is sitting and playing a stringed instrument - no doubt praising God for the creation. The conception is altogether worthy of the artist, and the globes add a thrilling touch of mystery or miracle. There is an inscription on the back of the panel: This picture is not complete by itself but is No. 6 of a series of six watercolour pictures representing the Days of Creation, which are placed in a frame designed by the Painter, from which he desires they may not be removed.

In 1871, Burne-Jones began work on the series of The Days of Creation. He worked on the angels off and on through 1876. The series consists of six panels, one for each day, with an angel at rest seated at the bottom of the sixth panel for the seventh day. The custom frame to hold the six panels was designed by Burne-Jones. The primary model for the angels was Jenny, William Morris’s elder daughter, although her younger sister, May, also appears in some panels.

In one panel after another, an angel comes to the fore holding a globe, rather like a large crystal ball. At first, only one angel appears, to be superseded by another in the next panel, and so on, until all six are present in the last panel. As for the angel at the front, each presents a scene associated with the particular day of creation: trees on the third day, for example, a flock of birds on the fifth. The scenes are to some extent mysterious, suggesting more than they show, except perhaps for the last one, of a pale and slender Eve, with a taller, darker Adam. In front of this one, a seventh angel is sitting and playing a stringed instrument - no doubt praising God for the creation. The conception is altogether worthy of the artist, and the globes add a thrilling touch of mystery or miracle. There is an inscription on the back of the panel: This picture is not complete by itself but is No. 3 of a series of six watercolour pictures representing the Days of Creation, which are placed in a frame designed by the Painter, from which he desires they may not be removed.

Burne-Jones creates here a painting with a deliberately ambiguous theme, an enigmatic dream in which figures overtly inspired by the Renaissance are perfectly transposed into a symbolist context.

In his later life, Burne-Jones still provided Morris with a seemingly endless flow of stained-glass cartoons, their work in this field culminating in the four enormous windows made for St Philip’s Cathedral, Birmingham (1885-97). During the 1880s, Morris turned his attention to tapestry. Burne-Jones supplied the designs, their greatest achievement being the Holy Grail series completed in 1894 for Stanmore Hall, Uxbridge, near London.

The Knights of the Round Table Summoned to the Quest by the Strange Damsel is number 1 of the Holy Grail tapestries woven by Morris & Co. in 1891-94 for Stanmore Hall. The tapestry in Birmingham was woven by Morris & Co. for George McCulloch in 1898-99. It varies slightly from the original woven for Stanmore Hall.

The authors of the tapestry were Edward Burne-Jones (overall design and figures), William Morris (overall design and execution), and John Henry Dearle (flowers and decorative details).

The Victorian painter Edward Burne-Jones was a friend of William Morris from their time at Oxford, and later of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and John Ruskin. He designed stained glass and tapestries for Morris’ firm and was also a gifted book illustrator. Between 1864 and 1870, Burne-Jones worked principally in watercolour, afterwards concentrating on oil painting.

The theme of The Love Song (Le Chant d’Amour) was a refrain in Burne-Jones’s work over more than fifteen years. From 1860, he made pencil and red chalk studies, a sepia wash and gouache study, and completed a watercolour. In 1868 Burne-Jones signalled his intention to begin the present large canvas, which he continued to work on in 1871 and 1873, completed after a month’s work in 1877, and showed for the first time at the Grosvenor Gallery exhibition of 1878. Its critical reception was mixed. For Henry James, Le Chant d’Amour resembled “some mellow Giorgione or some richly-glowing Titian” and was “a brilliant success in the way of colour.” By contrast, critic W. H. Mallock reacted against the picture’s latent sexuality, finding in the figure of the woman the “languor of exhausted animalism.”

For Burne-Jones and for his time, Le Chant d’Amour is a key picture in which Romantic medievalism is suffused with a dewy, pastoral warmth emanating from Renaissance Venice. The traditions of manuscript illumination merge with the influences of Botticelli and Titian.

A member of the pre-Raphaelite movement that was formed in England in 1848, Sir Edward Burne-Jones became one of the leading figures in a new trend, known as Aestheticism, that emerged in the 1860s.

About 1860, Burne-Jones turned to watercolour as his primary medium, and in 1864 he was elected an Associate of the Old Water-Colour Society (OWCS). This brought his work before a wide public for the first time. It was never popular with the more conservative members and was often savagely attacked in the press. For seven years after resigning from the OWCS, Burne-Jones hardly exhibited, but at the opening exhibition at the Grosvenor Gallery, London, in 1877, he showed eight large works. They included The Beguiling of Merlin (1873-77; Lady Lever Art Gallery, Port Sunlight), The Mirror of Venus (1873-77; Museu Calouste Gulbenkian, Lisbon), and The Days of Creation (1871-76; Fogg Art Museum, Harvard University, Cambridge). This dramatic revelation of his mature powers established him overnight as the star of the Grosvenor, a key figure in the Aesthetic Movement and one of the leading artists of the day.

The Mirror of Venus can be seen as an exaltation of ideal beauty, aligning the atmosphere of the painting with a perspective shared by late Victorian art. The painter employs a minimum of narrative elements, creating a linear arrangement of poetic and oneiric figures clad in pseudo-classical clothing in the manner of a Greek-inspired frieze. Rather than aiming for a formal stylistic resemblance, Burne-Jones seeks to create a general affinity with a Renaissance atmosphere. In a manner suggestive of the Quattrocento, and Botticelli in particular, the work gives precedence to the decorative harmony of the whole and deliberately evokes a sense of nostalgia for the past.

Like The Bath of Venus, which also belongs to the Gulbenkian Collection, the composition derives from an illustration intended for The Hill of Venus, part of William Morris’s poem The Earthly Paradise, which was inspired by the medieval legend of Tannhäuser.

Burne-Jones’s late work shows him retreating into himself, evolving a mannered and highly personal style and returning to his early interest in Malory. The chief expression of this private world is The Sleep of King Arthur in Avalon (begun 1881), the colossal unfinished canvas on which he was working at his death.

According to Thomas Malory’s “Le Morte d’Arthur” (1470), King Arthur suffered a fatal wound in a battle against Mordred. He was later taken to the magical island of Avalon, where he fell into a deep slumber meant to last until summoned to return to earth once more. Burne-Jones was commissioned this work in 1881 by George Howard, who wished to decorate his personal library with an Arthurian subject. However, seeing that Burn-Jones became so involved with the work, he withdrew the commission, and the artist continued working on it for over twenty years, succumbing to illness before finishing the monumental painting.

Burne-Jones’s late work shows him retreating into himself, evolving a mannered and highly personal style and returning to his early interest in Malory. The chief expression of this private world is The Sleep of King Arthur in Avalon (begun 1881), the colossal unfinished canvas on which he was working at his death.

According to Thomas Malory’s “Le Morte d’Arthur” (1470), King Arthur suffered a fatal wound in a battle against Mordred. He was later taken to the magical island of Avalon, where he fell into a deep slumber meant to last until summoned to return to earth once more. Burne-Jones was commissioned this work in 1881 by George Howard, who wished to decorate his personal library with an Arthurian subject. However, seeing that Burn-Jones became so involved with the work, he withdrew the commission, and the artist continued working on it for over twenty years, succumbing to illness before finishing the monumental painting.

Burne-Jones began this painting in 1875 and completed for his exhibition at the Grosvenor Gallery in London in 1883, developing one of the motifs of the predella of a polyptych depicting The Story of Troy, much of which was only roughed out.

This painting is an Italianate work that celebrates the artist’s passion for Michelangelo.

The Well at the World’s End is a fantasy novel by the British artist, poet, and author William Morris. It was first published in 1896 and has been reprinted a number of times since. William Morris’s romance with pictures designed by Burne-Jones, was painstakingly produced at Morris’s Kelmscott Press at Hammersmith in 1896. Printed on handmade paper, it uses the Press’s own hand-cut and hand-set Chaucer typeface, designed for the monumental Kelmscott edition of Chaucer’s works. The handmade quality of Kelmscott books is itself a homage to the medieval manuscripts and early printed books beloved of Morris and Burne-Jones.

The picture shows one of the four wood-engraved illustrations designed by Burne-Jones.