Gifts of Grandeur: Edward Burne-Jones' Marriage Piano, 1860

"[I] lived inside the pictures and from the inside of them looked out upon a world less real than they."

--Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones, in a letter to May Gaskell

Piano
Frederick Priestly, 1860
Painted panels by Edward Burne-Jones
This and all related images courtesy of the Victoria and Albert Museum

The name Edward Burne-Jones immediately puts one in mind of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and theatrical images of languid, titian-haired beauties, rich turquoise and emerald hues and deceptively sparkling waters.  Burne-Jones was one of the most influential of the Brotherhood, the conductor of a beautiful orchestra, if you will.

Georgiana Burne-Jones

And, so, such an artist should have a lovely instrument.  This piano, made in 1860, is the work of Frederick Priestley, an otherwise, as the V&A puts it, unknown piano maker.  The piano was presented as a wedding gift to Edward Burne-Jones and Georgiana "Georgie" MacDonald in 1860. 

Burne-Jones decorated the otherwise modest and plain instrument's case of American oak with a scene from the Medieval Romance,  the Chant d’Amour as an allegory of death--you know, standard wedding stuff. 

In her biography, The Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones, Georgie referenced a portrait of Death on the panel below the keyboard of their piano.  She described Death as  "standing outside the gate of a garden where a number of girls, unconscious of his approach, are resting and listening to music."

The Home Beautiful: Edward Burne-Jones' Marriage Piano, 1860

"[I] lived inside the pictures and from the inside of them looked out upon a world less real than they."

--Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones, in a letter to May Gaskell

Piano
Frederick Priestly, 1860
Painted panels by Edward Burne-Jones
This and all related images courtesy of the Victoria and Albert Museum

The name Edward Burne-Jones immediately puts one in mind of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and theatrical images of languid, titian-haired beauties, rich turquoise and emerald hues and deceptively sparkling waters.  Burne-Jones was one of the most influential of the Brotherhood, the conductor of a beautiful orchestra, if you will.

Georgiana Burne-Jones

And, so, such an artist should have a lovely instrument.  This piano, made in 1860, is the work of Frederick Priestley, an otherwise, as the V&A puts it, unknown piano maker.  The piano was presented as a wedding gift to Edward Burne-Jones and Georgiana "Georgie" MacDonald in 1860. 

Burne-Jones decorated the otherwise modest and plain instrument's case of American oak with a scene from the Medieval Romance,  the Chant d’Amour as an allegory of death--you know, standard wedding stuff. 

In her biography, The Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones, Georgie referenced a portrait of Death on the panel below the keyboard of their piano.  She described Death as  "standing outside the gate of a garden where a number of girls, unconscious of his approach, are resting and listening to music."

Object of the Day, Museum Edition: Laura Lyttleton Memorial Tablet by Edward Burne-Jones, 1886

Memorial Tablet
Edward Burne-Jones, 1886
One of two.  This one, polychrome; the other, white.
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Since antiquity, memorial tablets have been produced to mark the passing of a loved one.  These tablets aren’t meant to be tombstones, but are used in private venues away from the burial place to serve of reminders of the deceased.

These colored plaster memorial tablet was designed by Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones (1833-1898) in memory of his close friend Laura Lyttleton (née Tennant).  Lyttleton died in childbirth in 1886 within the first year of her marriage.

This is one of two that Burne-Jones created for Lyttleton.  The original—of plain white plaster--was installed in the church of St Andrew in Mells, Somerset. The colored version which we see here was made for Burne-Jones's own house, The Grange, in Fulham.

Burne-Jones, like many artists in his Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood--favored the symbolism of the peacock.   He had been studying Byzantine art and discovered that the peacock was a symbol of the Resurrection in Greek culture of the Christian era.

Lady Georgiana Burne-Jones described this tablet in her biography of her husband.  She wrote:

Laura, the daughter of Sir Charles Tennant: in our house she so fascinated us all that we called her ‘The Siren’ [Her memorial] is eight feet high and an effigy of a peacock which is the symbol of the Resurrection standing upon a laurel tree - and the laurel grows out of the tomb and burst through the side of the tomb with a determination to go on living and refusing to be dead and below was a Latin inscription made by Dean Church one of the many who loved her.

Painting of the Day: The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River, 1870

Click to Dance to Music by a River

"The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River"
Edward Burne-Jones, 1870-1882
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Inspired by the art of the Italian Renaissance which looked to Classical subjects, this painting by Edward Burne-Jones (1833-1898) is entitled “The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River.” The subject, clearly, is actually a depiction of “The Three Graces.” They’re dancing to the music of Apollo.

Burne-Jones used, as models friends, and relatives of the prominent art collection Constantine Alexander Ionides. The woman on the far left, one Mary Zambaco, was for awhile, a lover of Burne-Jones. She was also Mr. Ionides’ granddaughter. It didn’t end well. In fact, in another painting of the same year, “Phyllis and Demophoon,” Burne-Jones inscribed of Zambaco, the epigraph “Dic mihi quod feci? Nisi non sapienter amavi” (Tell me, what have I done? Except that I have not loved wisely).

The composition was started in 1870. But, it appears it wasn’t delivered to Ionides immediately. Burne-Jones took twelve years to finish it. Some feel that the artist developed an attachment to the painting because of his relationship with Zambaco. It was presented to Ionides in 1882 after being displayed at the Royal Academy. The inventory of Ionides’ collection as of 1882 lists that he paid £905 for “The Mill.” 

Painting of the Day: The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River, 1870

Click to Dance to Music by a River

"The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River"
Edward Burne-Jones, 1870-1882
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Inspired by the art of the Italian Renaissance which looked to Classical subjects, this painting by Edward Burne-Jones (1833-1898) is entitled “The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River.” The subject, clearly, is actually a depiction of “The Three Graces.” They’re dancing to the music of Apollo.

Burne-Jones used, as models friends, and relatives of the prominent art collection Constantine Alexander Ionides. The woman on the far left, one Mary Zambaco, was for awhile, a lover of Burne-Jones. She was also Mr. Ionides’ granddaughter. It didn’t end well. In fact, in another painting of the same year, “Phyllis and Demophoon,” Burne-Jones inscribed of Zambaco, the epigraph “Dic mihi quod feci? Nisi non sapienter amavi” (Tell me, what have I done? Except that I have not loved wisely).

The composition was started in 1870. But, it appears it wasn’t delivered to Ionides immediately. Burne-Jones took twelve years to finish it. Some feel that the artist developed an attachment to the painting because of his relationship with Zambaco. It was presented to Ionides in 1882 after being displayed at the Royal Academy. The inventory of Ionides’ collection as of 1882 lists that he paid £905 for “The Mill.” 

Object of the Day: Edward Burne-Jones' Marriage Piano, 1860

"[I] lived inside the pictures and from the inside of them looked out upon a world less real than they."

--Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones, in a letter to May Gaskell

Piano
Frederick Priestly, 1860
Painted panels by Edward Burne-Jones
This and all related images courtesy of the Victoria and Albert Museum

The name Edward Burne-Jones immediately puts one in mind of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and theatrical images of languid, titian-haired beauties, rich turquoise and emerald hues and deceptively sparkling waters.  Burne-Jones was one of the most influential of the Brotherhood, the conductor of a beautiful orchestra, if you will.

Georgiana Burne-Jones

And, so, such an artist should have a lovely instrument.  This piano, made in 1860, is the work of Frederick Priestley, an otherwise, as the V&A puts it, unknown piano maker.  The piano was presented as a wedding gift to Edward Burne-Jones and Georgiana "Georgie" MacDonald in 1860. 

Burne-Jones decorated the otherwise modest and plain instrument's case of American oak with a scene from the Medieval Romance,  the Chant d’Amour as an allegory of death--you know, standard wedding stuff. 

In her biography, The Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones, Georgie referenced a portrait of Death on the panel below the keyboard of their piano.  She described Death as  "standing outside the gate of a garden where a number of girls, unconscious of his approach, are resting and listening to music."

Painting of the Day: The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River, 1870

Click to Dance to Music by a River

"The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River"
Edward Burne-Jones, 1870-1882
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Inspired by the art of the Italian Renaissance which looked to Classical subjects, this painting by Edward Burne-Jones (1833-1898) is entitled “The Mill: Girls Dancing to Music by a River.” The subject, clearly, is actually a depiction of “The Three Graces.” They’re dancing to the music of Apollo.

Burne-Jones used, as models friends, and relatives of the prominent art collection Constantine Alexander Ionides. The woman on the far left, one Mary Zambaco, was for awhile, a lover of Burne-Jones. She was also Mr. Ionides’ granddaughter. It didn’t end well. In fact, in another painting of the same year, “Phyllis and Demophoon,” Burne-Jones inscribed of Zambaco, the epigraph “Dic mihi quod feci? Nisi non sapienter amavi” (Tell me, what have I done? Except that I have not loved wisely).

The composition was started in 1870. But, it appears it wasn’t delivered to Ionides immediately. Burne-Jones took twelve years to finish it. Some feel that the artist developed an attachment to the painting because of his relationship with Zambaco. It was presented to Ionides in 1882 after being displayed at the Royal Academy. The inventory of Ionides’ collection as of 1882 lists that he paid £905 for “The Mill.” 

Painting of the Day: Head of Sleeping Attendant from Briar Rose, 1881-1886

Study of a Sleeping Attendant from "Sleeping Beauty"
Edward Burne-Jones, c. 1881
The Victoria & Albert Museum

This monochrome study by the famed Pre-Raphaelite painter, Edward Burne-Jones demonstrates his curious ability to draw in detail using only a paintbrush. This head-study is for a female sleeping attendant in one of a series of four paintings on the theme of the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty.

Burne-Jones has frozen the scene at a moment before the princess is awakened by the prince's kiss.  

While the series, at face value, is an innocent exploration on the theme, making a good use of the Pre-Raphaelite sensibilities, art historians suggest that there’s something else lurking beneath.  According to the V&A, “One theory is that the series refers to Burne-Jones's disquiet at the impending marriage of his daughter, Margaret, wishing her to remain untouched for ever. “

Hmmm…a look at the series reveals that the sleeping girls, all of whom share the features of the figure in this study, resemble the artist’s daughter, Margaret, and he gave his daughter a gouache version of the sleeping princess as a wedding present. “Thanks, Dad!  That’s not creepy at all.”

The finished paintings are in the Faringdon Collection at Buscot Park in Berkshire.  These studies live  in the V&A.

Sculpture of the Day: Laura Lyttleton Memorial Tablet by Edward Burne-Jones, 1886

Memorial Tablet
Edward Burne-Jones, 1886
One of two.  This one, polychrome; the other, white.
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Since antiquity, memorial tablets have been produced to mark the passing of a loved one.  These tablets aren’t meant to be tombstones, but are used in private venues away from the burial place to serve of reminders of the deceased.

These colored plaster memorial tablet was designed by Pre-Raphaelite artist Edward Burne-Jones (1833-1898) in memory of his close friend Laura Lyttleton (née Tennant).  Lyttleton died in childbirth in 1886 within the first year of her marriage.

This is one of two that Burne-Jones created for Lyttleton.  The original—of plain white plaster--was installed in the church of St Andrew in Mells, Somerset. The colored version which we see here was made for Burne-Jones's own house, The Grange, in Fulham.

Burne-Jones, like many artists in his Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood--favored the symbolism of the peacock.   He had been studying Byzantine art and discovered that the peacock was a symbol of the Resurrection in Greek culture of the Christian era.

Lady Georgiana Burne-Jones described this tablet in her biography of her husband.  She wrote:

Laura, the daughter of Sir Charles Tennant: in our house she so fascinated us all that we called her ‘The Siren’ [Her memorial] is eight feet high and an effigy of a peacock which is the symbol of the Resurrection standing upon a laurel tree - and the laurel grows out of the tomb and burst through the side of the tomb with a determination to go on living and refusing to be dead and below was a Latin inscription made by Dean Church one of the many who loved her.