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ARTISTS AND MILITANTS, 1850â66
Artists and militants
On 16 July 1860 Laura Herford entered the schools of the Royal Academy after a brilliantly orchestrated campaign to secure the admission of women students to an institution which had excluded them since its foundation. She was, she remembered, greeted by Charles Landseer, the Keeper, âgoodnaturedly, though awkwardly as if he scarcely knew what would come of itâ.1 What indeed? Increasing numbers of women artists were exhibiting and selling their work, newly visible not just as exceptional or outstanding performers, but as a collectivity to be reckoned with. And as a group they were making new demands and generating debate. A newly organised womenâs movement was equally demanding and equally provocative of contention and change. From this moment, womenâs art and feminism were inextricably intertwined: speech on the one invariably incited discourse on the other. Women claimed representation: in the world of work, in the profession of art, in civil society. When artists joined the womenâs movement, the politics of feminism connected to the practice of art.
The reasons for these links lay in part in the development of feminist languages. In speaking of the self, women spoke simultaneously of identity and difference. Feminismâs project was to reorganise the asymmetrical relations of power between men and women so as to change the prevailing concepts of middle-class femininity which defined women as dependent and self-less. Feminists laid claim to a subjectivity which was self-conscious, self-motivated, self-reliant. In refashioning an ideal of liberal individualism developed by and for white middle-class men, feminist subjectivity was marked by class and differentiated by race. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak has identified the âmilitant female subjectâ, local to the west and forged in relation to imperialism and nationalism (issues developed further in the next chapter). Her analysis, which âsituate[s] feminist individualism in its historical determinationâ, contains a provocative suggestion, that the creative arts provided a fertile arena for feminist claims to individualism: â[T]he battle for female individualism was played out within the larger theatre of the establishment of meritocratic individualism, indexed in the aesthetic field by the ideology of âthe creative imaginationâ.â This proposition, developed in relation to the âcreative imaginationâ of Jane Eyre (claimed by some as the quintessential feminist heroine), enables a link to be made between feminist activists and woman artists.2 Individualism flourished in the nineteenth-century art world: the artist became an intense focus of concern and, as Michel Foucault has put it, a âprimary means of classificationâ.3 Between 1850 and 1900, exhibition reviews moved from a leisurely stroll round the gallery to the discussion of individual achievement. Magazines, handbooks and catalogues increasingly carried profiles of artists, while feminist papers featured biographical sketches of women practitioners.
The female militant as artist
By the later 1840s fine art offered singular possibilities for a professional career. Harriet Taylor was convinced that the âmodes of earning their livingâ open to her contemporaries â(with the sole exception of artists) consist only of poorly paid and hardly worked occupations, all the professions, mercantile clerical, legal & medical, as well as all posts being monopolised by menâ.4 Unitarian beliefs and class-specific convictions of the value of work powered feminismâs push for paid employment for middle-class women in the following decade.5 Amateur accomplishment in drawing and watercolours could be turned to advantage. Fine art offered independence, economic autonomy and, in the words of Anna Mary Howitt, âa life of aspirationâ, characterised by âstrength of determinationâ, âearnestness and fixedness of purposeâ and âlargeness of visionâ.6
In the earlier decades of the century the decision to become an artist had been largely driven by family pressure and/or financial necessity. Eloise Stannard grew up in an extended artist family in Norwich in which, as she recollected, âthere was imposed on her the necessity of contributing to the family exchequerâ.7 These pathways remained in place throughout the century: contributing to the family finances was one of several factors which influenced Anna Mary Howittâs writing and painting. But in the 1840s professional practice was also undertaken as part of a feminist commitment to paid work for middle-class women. Young women in progressive families were given a sound education, some access to art education, materials and studio space, and most importantly the encouragement and confidence (in varying degrees) needed to become professional artists. In accounting for Rebecca Solomonâs pursuit of a career, Monica Bohm-Duchen has emphasised the confluence of several factors: her father Meyer Solomonâs prosperity; the influence of her mother, Catherine Levy, an amateur artist; the example of her brothers, Abraham and Simeon (both painters); and the formation of Anglo-Jewry in the first half of the century. The Solomon family, she writes, was âon the one hand loyal to its Jewish roots and on the other anxious to succeed in English gentile societyâ. Here âartistic ambition and Jewish feminine respectability could co-existâ.8 Families of radical dissent produced many young women who became artists and activists: Barbara Leigh Smith (later Bodichon), Eliza Fox, Anna Mary Howitt, Emma Novello, Rosa Le Breton and Caroline E. Hullah grew up in a network of households connected by kinship, friendship, religious sympathy and strong interests in civil rights identified by social historians as a âgenealogy of reformâ.9 Laura Herford was a cousin of Bessie Rayner Parkes (to become the editor of The English Womanâs Journal) and related to an extensive Unitarian network in Birmingham and London.10 Educated in Unitarian schools in Cheshire and Warwickshire, she settled in London at the age of 18 to study art. Barbara Leigh Smith and Eliza Fox were both daughters of Radical members of Parliament, Benjamin Leigh Smith and W.J. Fox. Anna Mary Howitt was the daughter of the writers and editors William and Mary Howitt. What distinguishes them from contemporaries who maintained a distance from the womenâs movement was an early grounding in radical politics and their contact with women active in the feminist politics of the 1840s.
Reflecting on âseveral remarkable women of an older generationâ, Bessie Rayner Parkes named as significant Harriet Martineau, Mary Howitt and Anna Jameson, singling out the latter, an art historian, âfor the influence she exerted, not only in her writings, but in her personâ. According to Parkes,
The department of intellectual activity in which she naturally took most interest was that of the artist; and a group of young women, who pursued art in one or other of its branches, were among her constant visitors during her sojourns in London.11
In turn, Jamesonâs views were questioned by younger friends whose politics drew them into public activism. Older writers and artists offered encouragement, instruction, support and examples of independent women who were outspoken on womenâs rights, social and political issues and cultural matters. Margaret Gillies, well connected in Radical circles of the 1840s and a consistent supporter of feminist initiatives in the following decades, offered tuition and advice to those wishing to study as artists. Harriet Taylor, whose stirring advocacy of work, autonomy and the vote for women was published in 1851, had earlier befriended the young Eliza Fox, sending her a gift edition of John Stuart Millâs Principles of Political Economy (which included the dedication tacitly acknowledging Harriet Taylorâs co-authorship). Writing to Foxâs father, Taylor explained,
I sent it to Miss Fox because when I knew her in her early youth she appeared to interest herself strongly in the cause to which for many years of my life & exertions have been devoted, justice for women.
The gift strategically backed Eliza Foxâs transition from art student to professional practice, for it was in this letter, quoted above, that Taylor wrote of menâs monopoly in the world of work.12 Julia Smith, a close friend of Harriet Martineau and Elizabeth Jesser Reid (founder of Bedford College), put her weight behind the decision of her niece Hilary Bonham Carter to go to Paris for nearly a year, âto make a great stride with her drawing thereâŚ. free from all home caresâ. For her niece Barbara Leigh Smith she provided a rigorous course of study which included detailed commentary on demanding contemporary texts. She was relieved to see
all the young women of [her] acquaintance getting hold of some occupation or at least feeling the want of it. Few sit down contented now, with the life that was considered to do very well in my young days, made up of a little music & a little drawing and a good deal of visiting.13
These cross-generational contacts facilitated the development of languages for speaking oppression, injustice and inequality which exploded into discourse in the 1850s. Sally Alexander has explained that âVictorian feminism arose from a sense among many women of social injustice and grievance.â14 These new languages enabled young women to fashion a sense of self, determine a career move and oppose reluctant parents: Eliza Fox insisted on making a transition from amateur accomplishment to professional endeavour; Emily Mary Osborn demanded and secured limited access to art training.15
By the later 1840s a womenâs art alliance had formed in London bringing together writers, painters, sculptors and students committed to womenâs practice of art and to feminist politics. The politics of friendship and the friendship of politics have for some years been recognised as central to the formation of the womenâs movement.16 With its knots and breaks, slacks and tensions, and its fabric of interconnections, weaving provides a useful analogy for uneven and changing patterns and textures of friendship shaped by proximity and distance. Eliza Fox, Laura Herford, Anna Mary Howitt and Barbara Leigh Smith can be woven in time and again to places, moments and campaigns. For others, looser or temporary connections can be projected. Sarah Ellen Blackwell, sister of the physician Elizabeth Blackwell, a member of the extensive Blackwell family and cousin to Bessie Rayner Parkes, was in Britain in the later 1850s; joining the alliance, she brought invaluable experience from the American womenâs movement. Ties were made through portraiture, Eliza Fox, for example, painting a portrait of Harriet Martineau. Close links were established between those who studied together. Eliza Fox and Anna Mary Howitt, for example, attended Henry Sassâs art school together, going every day from 1844 to 1847. In the early 1850s Anna Mary and Jane Benham studied in Munich and there was some possibility of Eliza Fox joining them. They were visited by Barbara Leigh Smith, touring Europe with Bessie Rayner Parkes. Parkes dedicated her volume of Poems of 1855 to Barbara Leigh Smith and she inscribed the opening poem âThe World of Artâ to âAMH and all true artistsâ. A poem of 1852 portrayed Leigh Smith and Howitt as two artists, one striding the landscape and one in her tiny room. Howitt exclaimed delightedly, âWhat pleasure to find my dear little room set in such a sweet poetic setting and in such good and noble company.â The friends holidayed together, worked together, visited each other and consulted each other about their activities. On sketching expeditions Howitt advised Leigh Smith on technique: âAnna Mary says my little oils are very good for 1st productions from nature[.] My landscape is very PRB.â In January 1856 on the Isle of Wight, Howitt read Heine to her, âas we sat together here in our studio overhanging the stormy sea, after our dayâs paintingâ. Art and politics were inextricably threaded together. When Parkes accompanied Howitt and Benham on a sketching trip in the summer of 1853, she gathered material for a poem, âHelenâs Answerâ, which spoke of a woman artistâs determination to succeed â[s]triving against the hindrance of time/And all the weight of customâ. Reporting their adventures to Marian Evans (George Eliot) in January 1856, Leigh Smith solicited her signature on a petition âI have set goingâ to reform the laws relating to married womenâs property and requested the names of âany Ladies to whom I can send sheetsâ.17 On one of these excursions, Leigh Smith sketched Parkes astride a mountain gorge, holding her volume of poems. Parkes sports a short jacket and skirt, worn with sturdy boots, so much a hallmark of her personal style that she could relate a tongue-in-cheek story of an occasion when an admirer was deterred by her distinctive footwear: âIt was damp, & I (who always you know my dear always look to pure Kantian reason & not to female adornment) had put on my â Big Boots.â Reformed dress which certainly facilitated outdoor activities was also the subject of a humorous poem by Leigh Smith:
Oh! Isnât it jolly
To cast away folly
And cut all oneâs clothes a peg shorter
âŚ
And rejoice in oneâs legs
Like a free-minded Albionâs daughter.
âŚ
When bodies are free
Their spirits shall be
Of a quite unknown elevation.
And women who dare
To show their feet bare
Be a glorious part of the nation.18
Into these lines is distilled a heady brew of feminism and nationalism.
Writing of the friendships of these years, Howitt used the terms âsisterâ and âsisterhoodâ. An Art Student in Munich (a volume of recollections from her visit to Munich) cast Leigh Smith as Justina, âmy beloved friend out of England, the sister of my heartâ. The book narrates an intense relationship between two women painters, whose proximity is conveyed in the descriptions of their rooms, dedicated to painting and to living, neither exclusively workspace nor domestic interior: âthere stood two sister easels, and a sister painting-blouse hung on each: the casts, the books, the green jug with flowersâ. From the sitting room, hung with their sketches, are g...