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Jacqueline Wilson: why I love fairy paintings Jacqueline Wilson: why I love fairy paintings
(7 months later)
As a child I'd always liked fairy illustrations in books – not the twee, Disneyfied fairies you see everywhere now, but fairies that looked altogether stranger and more interesting. I didn't realise it at the time, but these were Victorian illustrations. They're not especially pretty; sometimes they can be quite bizarre, even menacing. Then, much later, in the 1990s, there was an exhibition at the Royal Academy of fairy paintings. I ended up going about five times. I've been fascinated ever since.As a child I'd always liked fairy illustrations in books – not the twee, Disneyfied fairies you see everywhere now, but fairies that looked altogether stranger and more interesting. I didn't realise it at the time, but these were Victorian illustrations. They're not especially pretty; sometimes they can be quite bizarre, even menacing. Then, much later, in the 1990s, there was an exhibition at the Royal Academy of fairy paintings. I ended up going about five times. I've been fascinated ever since.
The story of the fairy-painting genre really began in the mid-Victorian period. Some famous artists dabbled – Millais and Landseer both made paintings that featured fairy-like characters, and other artists made depictions of, say, Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream or The Tempest, both of which have supernatural characters. But the fascinating thing is that there was an entire group of artists who specialised in doing them. Some of them painted almost nothing else.The story of the fairy-painting genre really began in the mid-Victorian period. Some famous artists dabbled – Millais and Landseer both made paintings that featured fairy-like characters, and other artists made depictions of, say, Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream or The Tempest, both of which have supernatural characters. But the fascinating thing is that there was an entire group of artists who specialised in doing them. Some of them painted almost nothing else.
One of the people I'm most interested in was John Anster Fitzgerald (c.1823–1906), who became known as "Fairy Fitzgerald". His work is colourful and beautiful, but the paintings often have a touch of sadistic cruelty – the fairies have nasty little spears with which they're tormenting a frog or a bat, or something equally macabre. In private, you can imagine them doing all sorts of things. They probably have sex lives. They don't sit on rainbows. Not at all.One of the people I'm most interested in was John Anster Fitzgerald (c.1823–1906), who became known as "Fairy Fitzgerald". His work is colourful and beautiful, but the paintings often have a touch of sadistic cruelty – the fairies have nasty little spears with which they're tormenting a frog or a bat, or something equally macabre. In private, you can imagine them doing all sorts of things. They probably have sex lives. They don't sit on rainbows. Not at all.
Another artist whose work I admire is Richard Dadd – poor, mad Richard Dadd. He began drawing as a teenager in the 1820s and learned to paint miniatures: incredibly detailed, precise work. He went on to the Royal Academy and was acclaimed as a star in the making, but after a research trip to the Middle East he began to suffer from what was probably schizophrenia. He stabbed his father to death in a local park and was sent to an asylum. Nearly all his mature work was completed while he was imprisoned, for nearly 42 years.Another artist whose work I admire is Richard Dadd – poor, mad Richard Dadd. He began drawing as a teenager in the 1820s and learned to paint miniatures: incredibly detailed, precise work. He went on to the Royal Academy and was acclaimed as a star in the making, but after a research trip to the Middle East he began to suffer from what was probably schizophrenia. He stabbed his father to death in a local park and was sent to an asylum. Nearly all his mature work was completed while he was imprisoned, for nearly 42 years.
Dadd's work is extraordinary. He worked from memory and completed many tiny watercolours, but two paintings of his are particularly remarkable. One is Contradiction: Oberon and Titania, a scene from A Midsummer Night's Dream that is like a miniature tableau (lucky Andrew Lloyd Webber owns it). But his masterpiece is The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke, which took him nine years to finish: it's an incredibly detailed scene of fairies gathered round in the undergrowth, watching as one of them prepares to crack open a hazelnut with an axe. The closer you look, the more peculiar it gets: there's an antique witch wearing a hat, Queen Mab and entourage, two women with exaggerated calves and strangely pointed breasts. The perspective is odd, the flowers are huge, it's almost hallucinogenic, all done in near-microscopic, manic detail. It later inspired a song by Queen. The year he finished it, Dadd was sent to Broadmoor, which had just been opened. He died there of consumption.Dadd's work is extraordinary. He worked from memory and completed many tiny watercolours, but two paintings of his are particularly remarkable. One is Contradiction: Oberon and Titania, a scene from A Midsummer Night's Dream that is like a miniature tableau (lucky Andrew Lloyd Webber owns it). But his masterpiece is The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke, which took him nine years to finish: it's an incredibly detailed scene of fairies gathered round in the undergrowth, watching as one of them prepares to crack open a hazelnut with an axe. The closer you look, the more peculiar it gets: there's an antique witch wearing a hat, Queen Mab and entourage, two women with exaggerated calves and strangely pointed breasts. The perspective is odd, the flowers are huge, it's almost hallucinogenic, all done in near-microscopic, manic detail. It later inspired a song by Queen. The year he finished it, Dadd was sent to Broadmoor, which had just been opened. He died there of consumption.
What lies behind the fad for fairy paintings is a fascinating question. They don't seem to have been for children at all: they were painted by adults for adults. In the Victorian period, there was a powerful belief in the supernatural, as if the fairy world really existed. It gives the paintings an extraordinary intensity; some of them look like opium dreams, which perhaps they were. Grimm's Tales were translated into English around this time. Another reason the Victorians were interested – especially men – is that this was a way of painting half-naked young women. If you said you were painting fairies, somehow you could get away with more than if you were doing ordinary nudes. What lies behind the fad for fairy paintings is a fascinating question. They don't seem to have been for children at all: they were painted by adults for adults. In the Victorian period, there was a powerful belief in the supernatural, as if the fairy world really existed. It gives the paintings an extraordinary intensity; some of them look like opium dreams, which perhaps they were. Grimm's Tales were translated into English around this time. Another reason the Victorians were interested – especially men – is that this was a way of painting half-naked young women. If you said you were painting fairies, somehow you could get away with more than if you were doing ordinary nudes.
I tried to paint my own fairies as a child, without success. I just didn't have the skill. But as a writer I have used them: in my book Midnight, the teenage heroine is obsessed by a fictional artist who paints fairies, and there are a whole group of them, a different fairy for each chapter. They're dark and gothic, more than a little haunting. It's my way of paying tribute to all those surreal, strange paintings.I tried to paint my own fairies as a child, without success. I just didn't have the skill. But as a writer I have used them: in my book Midnight, the teenage heroine is obsessed by a fictional artist who paints fairies, and there are a whole group of them, a different fairy for each chapter. They're dark and gothic, more than a little haunting. It's my way of paying tribute to all those surreal, strange paintings.
Fairy paintings in briefFairy paintings in brief
Starting point: The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke (Tate Britain). Get close – you need to.Starting point: The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke (Tate Britain). Get close – you need to.
Key work: Check out John Anster Fitzgerald's The Fairy's Barque, a group of fairies cuddling up together on a strange waterlily wearing the weirdest headdresses.Key work: Check out John Anster Fitzgerald's The Fairy's Barque, a group of fairies cuddling up together on a strange waterlily wearing the weirdest headdresses.
In three words: Magical. Intense. Bizarre.In three words: Magical. Intense. Bizarre.
• Emma Reeves's adaptation of Hetty Feather is at the Vaudeville, London WC2, until 6 September. Jacqueline Wilson's Opal Plumstead is published in October.• Emma Reeves's adaptation of Hetty Feather is at the Vaudeville, London WC2, until 6 September. Jacqueline Wilson's Opal Plumstead is published in October.