A Note on Richard Hooker's Impact on Pre-Raphaelite Art

William Holman Hunt, The Hireling Shepherd, 1851

Now that Hooker is slowly re-emerging in academic journals and theological discussions, it seems that there is anther area to be explored: Hooker's impact on art. In the 19th century, Keble's edition of Hooker's works were widely read. This passage from the ODNB perfectly captures the various connections between Ruskin, Hooker, and the Pre-Raphaelites:

In May 1851 he [Holman Hunt] wrote to the poet Coventry Patmore, who had been responsible for enlisting Ruskin's support, asking to borrow a copy of the works of the seventeenth-century theologian Richard Hooker. He added: 'As however I am obliged to read for my next year's subjects much just now, I hope you will be able to spare it some time'. Hooker provided the theme of The Hireling Shepherd, with its underlying attack on sectarianism for deflecting the clergy from the task of tending their flock. The picture marks out a new direction, in which the symbolism is so arcane as to be virtually impenetrable without a literary gloss. The painting can, however, be enjoyed on many levels. Its sunlit landscape, with its closely observed blue shadows, was painted at Ewell, Surrey, between June and December 1851 and was Hunt's most ambitious attempt at naturalism to date.

Hooker's writing not only impacted Hunt's art, but it also prompted the painter to take social action:

His dislike of narrow sectarianism-which underlies the composition of The Hireling Shepherd and Our English Coasts, 1852-deepened into disgust on his first visit to Jerusalem, where he found squabbling Christian sects vying with each other to convert the poverty-stricken Jews. Bribery was endemic and Hunt was so incensed by the activities of Samuel Gobat, Anglican bishop of Jerusalem, in this respect that in 1858 he published a pamphlet unmasking him (ODNB).

Along with Ruskin's observations about paintings by Tintoretto, Hooker's works must also be included as influences on Hunt's art, including 'The Shadow of Death,' which we looked at a few weeks ago. For more context to the painting, click here.

William Holman Hunt: The Shadow of Death

The Shadow of Death (1871) William Holman Hunt

This painting is cooler than Millais's of twenty years earlier, in my opinion. It, too, caused an uproar for its realism, but unlike Millais's work, William Holman Hunt actually depicts Jesus as a carpenter who

has been hard at work all the day, and the setting sun tells Him the hour for cessation from toil has arrived, that his day's labour is over. He has just risen from the plank on which He has been working, and is portrayed as throwing up His arms to realise that pleasant sensation of repose and relaxation . . . and in perfect harmony with this physical act, so natural and grateful to every one, the Divine Labourer pours forth His soul in fervent gratitude to His Father that the welcome hour of rest has come. {WHH's pamphlet on the painting}

According to the ODNB, the painting

was begun in Jerusalem in April 1870. The figures of Christ and the Virgin were painted out of doors, the models posing on the roof of Hunt's house in the Muslim quarter. Two movable huts were constructed in an attempt to regulate the light, since the artist was determined to capture faithfully the impression of the setting afternoon sun. This was a heroic but virtually impossible task on such a large canvas and involved Hunt in continual reworking of both versions. They were completed after his return to London in July 1872, and in March 1873 were sold to Agnews for 10,000 guineas. The large canvas, which was on view at their Bond Street gallery from December 1873 to August 1874, was described that May in an American periodical as 'probably the most talked-about painting in the world' ('Holman Hunt and his "Shadow of death"', 657). {ODNB}

For the entire ODNB entry on William Holman Hunt, click here.

William Holman Hunt describes his painting as follows:

Scripturally, the subject is "the Shadow of Death," — the bearing of the first burden of the Curse of Adam. Morally, it is this also: the bestowing of Life in trust for future universal good, rather than for immediate personal joy. Surely there are enough of every class who have felt the burdensomness of toil, the relief at his cessation; and also enough of those who have battled against the temptation to seek this world's glory at the expense of their peace with the silent Father, and who may be encouraged to persevere. [Mr. Holman Hunt's Picture, "The Shadow of Death" (London: Thomas Agnew: [1873]), p. 2.]

Ruskin on the Painting

Among the men I know, or have known, he is the One (literal) Christian, of intellectual power. I have known many Christians-many men of capacity: only Hunt who is both, and who is sincerely endeavouring to represent to our eyes the things which the eyes were blessed which saw. (1874)

Actually, according to the ODNB,

The depiction of the Saviour and Virgin in the interior of a carpenter's workshop was influenced by Ruskin, who in the third volume of Modern Painters (1856) had called for a sacred art 'representing events historically recorded, with solemn effort at a sincere and unartificial conception' (Works, 5.85). Hunt's reading of Ernest Renan'sVie de Jesus (1863) in 1869 encouraged him to depict the Saviour as a working man, an image that he was well aware would appeal to a wide audience. Indeed, the engraving published in 1878 was Agnews' most widely circulated nineteenth-century print. But by imbuing his picture with typological symbolism Hunt wanted to convey to his audience the spiritual as well as archaeological aspects of his subject.

Painting in Palestine

The archaeological element of his painting had compelled William Holman Hunt to move to Jerusalem, where today his house still stands at 64 Havevi'im St., in the centre of Jerusalem. For photos, click here. From this vantage point,

The course of events seem so much more comprehensible-the journeys of the Saviour, in the last days of his ministration, from Bethany to Jerusalem to the Temple around the Mount of Olives ... seem so real as to appear like an event of the day. (Pre-Raphaelite Friendship, 45)

For more on Holman hunt's travels in the Middle East, click here.

There were other interesting developments during WHH's stay in Jerusalem. He came into contact with a Canadian named Henry Wentworth Monk. Monk had been sent to London at the age of seven by his parents. After witnessing the conditions the Jews endured there, and hearing a speech by Lord Asheley (7th Earl of Shaftesbury) he concluded that the only way to alleviate their plight was to return Jews to their homeland; Palestine. Again, Ruskin seems to be everyone's sugardaddy: Monk wrote a commentary on Revelations that WHH got Ruskin to fund.

The Talmud

Just as William Holman Hunt's quest for realism led him to Palestine, it also caused him to turn to the Talmud. Despite the

the vagueness of the description in the Talmud: of the form in which the scarlet was placed on the head I feel it to be very much left to myself. So I merely placed it round about the horns — to suggest the crown of thorns.

Properly speaking, the red headband in The Shadow of Death provides a type of the Crown of Thorns, while in a somewhat looser manner it recapitulates the scarlet wool born by the representative of Israel's sins, fulfilling that type in part. Of course, both types are only completed by the Crown of Thorns itself. This device recapitulates Hunt's earlier attempt at creating a prefigurative image of the Passion in The Scapegoat, for he now attempts such symbolism in a subject more accessible to his audience. {Replete with Meaning: William Holman-Hunt and Typological Symbolism, by George P. Landow, on the Victorian Web, click here}

Woodworking Tools as Symbolism

You'll probably never look at your woodworking tools the same way again. According to the pamphlet,

The shadow of the wearied Lord falling on the rack which holds the carpenter's tools, with the mandrel placed vertically in the centre, at once literally realises the form of a cross, and the hands falling thereon suggest the idea of a figure nailed thereupon, and thus the particular death Our Lord would die.

Furthermore, the tools become types of those used to torture Christ, while the reeds standing in the corner of the shop similarly prefigure the mock scepter thrust upon him during his torments. Standing in a plank which Christ has been cutting, a saw casts a shadow upon the wall that clearly provides a prefiguration of the spear that pierced his side.

Christ's girded loins also suggest the costume of the Crucifixion, while the plumb-bob dangling from the rack of tools suggests Christ's heart, because of its shape and placement within the shadow. {Landow, Victorian Web. Read the rest of it--it's awesome--click here}

Hunt's significance as one of the three original founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, and the only one to have remained true to its original principles, was acknowledged on 19 July 1879, when Vanity Fair published a caricature of him entitled The Pre-Raphaelite of the World. The way in which many of his major paintings focus on highly dramatic situations, fusing truth to nature with a serious moral message, struck such a chord with the Victorians that his influence during his lifetime can be compared to that of Thomas Carlyle, Ruskin, and Charles Dickens. {ODNB}

Jesus the Gingy 'Jew Boy' Joiner

Christ in the House of His Parents--John Everett Millais (1829-1896)

This painting, or rather the harsh criticism it received, was the catalyst for Ruskin's relationship with John Everett Millais, and pitted him against the Royal Society (people like Dickens who really liked Joshua Reynolds). Click here for his letter to The Times which established the relationship between Ruskin and the Pre-Raphaelites in the Victorian consciousness. 

Most woodworkers would probably admire the way Millais painted the shavings on the floor of Joseph's shop (with nary a handplane in sight...). In fact, Dickens did concede that 'it is particularly gratifying to observe that such objects as the shavings which are strewn on the carpenter’s floor are admirably painted.' However, Dickens did go on to make futher comments, which, while hilarious at times were not particularly generous to Millais. For the more complete text of his critique, click here.

Unfortunately, not all critics have an interest in woodworking, and many were certainly not impressed with the realism of Millais's carpentry shop:

But this painful display of anatomical knowledge, and studious vulgarity of portraying the youthful Saviour as a red-headed Jew boy, and the sublime personage of the virgin a sore-heeled, ugly, every-day sempstress, will in no way tend to the consummation so devoutly to be wished'--click here for the rest

To add insult to injury, the model for the virgin, or 'sore-heeled, ugly, everyday sempstress' was actually Millais's mother! Oh no he didn't!

Side note (or endnote, rather): After receiving a comment on previous post that an appended comic depicting Jesus as a carpenter may have been offensive to Christian readers (so far, no complaints) i went off in search of paintings which portrayed Jesus as a woodworker. This is the first instalment of some rather interesting results. 

John Ruskin--the Preferred Critic of Woodworkers Since 1819

It is hard to overstate John Ruskin's impact on art, and the more i read about him, the more i am convinced that this post will not do justice to the man who, according to Charlotte Bronte, taught an entire generation how to see. His proteges included John Everett Millais, William Holman Hunt, Oscar Wilde, and William Morris. His writings on political economy were also not bad. Cecil Rhodes and Tolstoy were fans. Gandhi had something of a conversion experience whilst reading Ruskin's Unto This Last on a train from Johannesburg to Durban. According to a survey of the first Parliament in which Labour managed to get seats, that very book had more of an impact on the Labour Party members than Das Kapital. 

Ruskin aspired to write like Richard Hooker and George Herbert. Volume II of his Modern Painters (1846) is consciously styled after Hooker's Of the Lawes of Ecclesiastical Polity. Ruskin invokes Hooker for his conception of moderation as beauty: 

He also seems to draw heavily on Hooker in his discussion of unity amid variety, or what Hooker would call 'harmonious dissimilitude', and in his discussion of the delight of creating, Ruskin also borrows from Book V of Of the Lawes of Ecclesiastical Polity. For an awesome article about Anglicanism and art, click here. 

Ruskin's influence is as durable as it is expansive; he's  a particular favourite amongst woodworkers in our time. One of my favourite blogs, Chris Hall's 'The Carpentry Way', which is about eastern and western woodworking, refers to Ruskin numerous times in his series 'The Master Builder Tradition-What Happened?'. Evan Adams is quite forthcoming about Ruskin quotes being one of the main features of his fantastic blog, and Brad at treefrogfurniture explains the evolution of Dutch Arts and Crafts in the United States! By and large, it seems that Ruskin's The Seven Lamps of Architecture (1849),which you can read here, is the most popular amongst woodworkers.

The Seven Lamps of Architecture was published in May 1849, the first of Ruskin's works to carry his name, and the first to be illustrated, with fourteen plates drawn and etched by him. A reference in the preface to the depredations of 'the Restorer, or Revolutionist' made Ruskin's position clear. He wished to protect what survived, and draw from it certain principles which would influence the direction of the Gothic revival, notably towards the use of Gothic in secular buildings. His purpose was both to secularize and make protestant the movement, drawing it away from the Roman Catholic influence of Augustus Welby Pugin. His intervention was theoretical rather than practical: the 'lamps' of architecture were moral categories-sacrifice, truth, power, beauty, life, memory, and obedience. Like the types of typical beauty in Modern Painters, volume 2, they are abstract notions in themselves, but for Ruskin were manifested in particular Gothic buildings in Italy and northern France. (ODNB)

Whilst in Oxford, he had been acquainted with many giants of the literary and artistic scene:

Ruskin recruited Wilde into a group of social activists trying to build a road, and his anger at social cruelty found fallow soil in the boy from the famine-writers' house. Pater and Ruskin shaped Wilde's thought and its expression: they did not originate it. Initially he brought their ideas and his glosses into the market place in lectures on aesthetics in the UK and the USA. Thereafter he embedded them, begirt in his own wit and charm, in fictions such as The Happy Prince and other Tales and The Picture of Dorian Gray. (ODNB Wilde entry)

Ruskin was also friendly with Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, who shared Ruskin's love of sketching (and definitely exceeded Ruskin's love of little girls)  and wished to illustrate his own works, such as The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. Dodgson had already taken a step back from his work by publishing under the pseudonym 'Lewis Carroll'. Ruskin informed Dodgson that his talents as an artist were 'severely limited.' Dogdson took Ruskin's criticisms quite well, and relinquished even more artistic involvment in his work, hiring professionals to illustrate his books. Nonetheless, Dodgson continued to enjoy sketching and socialised with many artists who were also amongst Ruskin's circle of friends, such as Arthur Hughes, William Holman Hunt, J. E. Millais, Alexander Munro, V. Princep, D. G. Rossetti, J. Sant, C. A. Swinburne, Mrs E. M. Ward, and G. F. Watts.

Ruskin is probably most famous for his relationship with the Pre-Raphaelites, mainly Millais, through their mutual friend, the poet Coventry Patmore. Ruskin defended Millais and the Pre-Raphalites' style against the aesthetic orthodoxy established by dudes like Sir Joshua Reynolds and The Royal Academy, enabling mainstream acceptance of the artistic movement. Hopefully we'll come back to that. 

In Millais, Ruskin saw a successor to Turner, and due to the age difference, Ruskin was more like his patron and mentor. You'd think that it was a relationship that Ruskin would kick himself for later, as his wife Effie (Euphemia. i know, right?), ran off with (and later married) Millais. Actually, Ruskin was rather relieved, and the 5-year marriage annulled in court on the grounds that it was never consummated. Against charges of impotence, Ruskin apparently volunteered to drop trou and prove otherwise. Classy. Definitely the kind of thing one would expect from a Victorian art critic:

There is little that is certain about the intimate details of Ruskin's marriage to Euphemia Chalmers Gray beyond the fact that it was never consummated. A medical examination confirmed Effie's virginity, but in a legal deposition that was not introduced in court, Ruskin stated: 'I can prove my virility at once'. This was never put to the test, [thankfully!] but it seems likely that Ruskin was referring to masturbation. Again, there is no confirmation of this, but a letter to a confidante, Mrs Cowper, in 1868 in which he wrote 'Have I not often told you that I was another Rousseau?' has been taken as a discreet reference to the practice. [i don't get it...] At this same time he told a male friend that he had been capable of consummating his marriage, but that he had not loved Effie sufficiently to want to do so. (ODNB)

Nonetheless, Ruskin's conceptions of nature and beauty, combined with a mystical streak made for an interesting collaboration with the Pre-Raphaelites. These were also into reviving Blake, who was into pretty interesting things, among them, mystical Jewish symbolism. Here's a little teaser: