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拍品專文
The present drawing is a beguiling study for the angel in Burne-Jones’s Le Chant d’Amour, a subject that featured prominently in his oeuvre for fifteen years, and was revisited several times. Burne-Jones first touched upon the composition in 1860, when it appeared as a vignette he painted on the lid of a small upright piano given to him and his wife, Georgiana Macdonald (1840-1920), upon their wedding in June 1860. In 1865 Burne-Jones completed a watercolour of the subject (Museum of Fine Arts, Boston). He then re-worked the image into a larger oil between 1872-1873, before finally returning to and completing the composition in 1877 (fig. 1, The Metropolitan Museum, New York). Both works share a similar layout of figures: in the centre of the composition a beautiful young woman plays the organ to a young knight seated at her feet, assisted on the right by an angel working the bellows.
The watercolour version was bought by the great Burne-Jones patron William Graham (1817-1885) in 1866 after it was exhibited at the Old Watercolour Society. It was the first work by the artist that Graham purchased, and Burne-Jones offered to create the larger oil on the subject for Graham two years later. When the oil version was sold as part of Graham’s collection in these Rooms in April 1886 it was the top lot, realising 3,150 guineas; an enormous sum at the time.
Burne-Jones first visited Italy in 1859 with the artist Val Prinsep (1838-1904), returning to Venice in May 1862 in the company of his wife and John Ruskin (1819-1900) who encouraged him to make copies of Venetian works. The arrangement of Le Chant d’Amour demonstrates this Venetian influence, referencing Giorgione’s concert champêtre compositions that showed figures in pastoral settings, that whilst absent of clear narrative, are suffused with musicality and romance. The title derives from the refrain of a traditional Breton song: 'Hélas! Je sais un chant d'amour, / Triste ou gai, tour à tour' which reflects upon the turbulence of love.
This haunting study is for the head of the angel who works the organ’s bellows, fanning the music of love. The beautiful youth embodies the Italianate style that features heavily in Burne-Jones’ work of the 1860s, evinced in his long curly hair, mournful gaze and androgynous features that pay homage to Botticelli. This version differs in composition from the completed watercolour and oil, where the angel is first blindfolded, then latterly depicted with his eyes closed. Here, instead, the angel glances away from the viewer, with a melancholy look. Burne-Jones perhaps settled upon covering the eyes in the fully worked versions to further accentuate the sense of languor and nostalgia, whilst simultaneously heightening the tension of desire by isolating the lovers in the picture plane. Another study of a Seraph for Le Chant d'Amour is at Aberystwyth University School of Art Museum and Gallery (fig. 2).
The drawing was part of the collection of the British Surrealist artist Thomas Esmond Lowinsky (1892-1947) who was a celebrated collector of the Pre-Raphaelites, and it has subsequently passed down through the family to the present day. The family also descend from Burne-Jones on their maternal side.
We are grateful to Alison Smith for identifying the model as Ciamelli, an Italian organ grinder who modelled for the artist. In the Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones Georgiana recounts how when sitting for Burne-Jones, the artist discovered Ciamelli playing the organ at his house 'wrapped in a whirlwind of sound through which nothing could penetrate with his bush of blue black hair' (G. Burne-Jones, Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones, Cambridge, 2012, p. 262).
The watercolour version was bought by the great Burne-Jones patron William Graham (1817-1885) in 1866 after it was exhibited at the Old Watercolour Society. It was the first work by the artist that Graham purchased, and Burne-Jones offered to create the larger oil on the subject for Graham two years later. When the oil version was sold as part of Graham’s collection in these Rooms in April 1886 it was the top lot, realising 3,150 guineas; an enormous sum at the time.
Burne-Jones first visited Italy in 1859 with the artist Val Prinsep (1838-1904), returning to Venice in May 1862 in the company of his wife and John Ruskin (1819-1900) who encouraged him to make copies of Venetian works. The arrangement of Le Chant d’Amour demonstrates this Venetian influence, referencing Giorgione’s concert champêtre compositions that showed figures in pastoral settings, that whilst absent of clear narrative, are suffused with musicality and romance. The title derives from the refrain of a traditional Breton song: 'Hélas! Je sais un chant d'amour, / Triste ou gai, tour à tour' which reflects upon the turbulence of love.
This haunting study is for the head of the angel who works the organ’s bellows, fanning the music of love. The beautiful youth embodies the Italianate style that features heavily in Burne-Jones’ work of the 1860s, evinced in his long curly hair, mournful gaze and androgynous features that pay homage to Botticelli. This version differs in composition from the completed watercolour and oil, where the angel is first blindfolded, then latterly depicted with his eyes closed. Here, instead, the angel glances away from the viewer, with a melancholy look. Burne-Jones perhaps settled upon covering the eyes in the fully worked versions to further accentuate the sense of languor and nostalgia, whilst simultaneously heightening the tension of desire by isolating the lovers in the picture plane. Another study of a Seraph for Le Chant d'Amour is at Aberystwyth University School of Art Museum and Gallery (fig. 2).
The drawing was part of the collection of the British Surrealist artist Thomas Esmond Lowinsky (1892-1947) who was a celebrated collector of the Pre-Raphaelites, and it has subsequently passed down through the family to the present day. The family also descend from Burne-Jones on their maternal side.
We are grateful to Alison Smith for identifying the model as Ciamelli, an Italian organ grinder who modelled for the artist. In the Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones Georgiana recounts how when sitting for Burne-Jones, the artist discovered Ciamelli playing the organ at his house 'wrapped in a whirlwind of sound through which nothing could penetrate with his bush of blue black hair' (G. Burne-Jones, Memorials of Edward Burne-Jones, Cambridge, 2012, p. 262).