The Other Dale

"I made a new religion of poetic tradition...of personages, and of emotions, inseparable from their first expression, passed on from generation to generation by poets and painters. I wished for a world where I could discover this tradition perpetually, and not in pictures and poems only, but in tiles round the chimney piece and in the hangings that kept out the draft."

Thus wrote the Pre-Raphaelite artist, William Butler Yeats. Yeats, along with several others of his time, was perceptive (and responsive) to the encroaching change in English art and criticism. It was becoming ever more clear that the arts were to be relegated to the characterization of beauty. An increasingly secular civil atmosphere coupled with the stringent pomp of the elite would bear upon hardened shoulders the great scythe of Thanatos, swift to strike and loathe to miss.

Yet, upon the footsteps of the Romantics, there birthed a small group of men who wished to perceive art in a different spectrum. As a light fractured into airborne jewels by the shattering of stained glass these few glimpsed the intricate nature of art. That is to say poetry, painting, craftsmanship, faith, and myth ought all be combined to form a mosaic which spoke of truth. These artists called themselves the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood; they would be a guild that sought to work in a style that reflected the nature of artists before Raphael.

The "PRB" was despised by the establishment. Charles Dickens famously deemed John Everett Millais' Christ in the House of His Parents to be trash. It is no wonder that this was so as the Brotherhood stood firm against the rushing tide of heavy brush strokes and bourgeoisie nature of the 19th century artist. They wished to harken back to a Christian way of life, heaped in mystery and love; they were enraptured by the spiritual nature of myth and magic; they saw art as being true unto truth.

The Pre-Raphaelites were not only reformed painters, but one in particular was another sort of artist altogether. William Morris was one of the last renaissance men (surpassed only by one other man in his day: Lord Dunsany). He was also the the father of the English Arts and Crafts Movement. Morris was an author, tapestry weaver, and crafter; his love was to see the medieval methods of art reborn in the home.

Morris, the great craftsman, wished for art to be lived. To him a man's house was to be a center for all activity in the family and ought, therefore, to be of purely artistic endeavor itself. By way of this belief, Morris rejected the mass appeal of the assembly line in favor of household objects made by one's own hand.

This philosophy is of wondrous appeal to myself as I believe it brings a person to one of the most spiritual of all places: creation. For a man to conjecture something with his mind and then put it into place with his hands is for him to learn self-discipline, independence, care, and even contentment. To be able to step back, and like The Father say, "it is good", is a moment to forever relish.

To further this argument I will ask how the reader felt the first time he cooked a meal. Surely it was not the most delicate of sups, but it must have been an accomplishment nonetheless. And, when he came to cook such food again, it must have been better than before. Here was something that could be shared, enjoyed, and told stories about. Now, imagine that last expensive dinner one took. It may have been enjoyable, but only once did it happen, and, the knowledge of it is only owned for a day or two. It is the same with crafting, only a work of one person's labors is an object which holds the honor of sitting proudly for all to see amidst the threshold of the home.

It is my opinion that Morris would have spit at the doorsteps of the houses of today. These mockeries of creativity go against all that was once presumed good about a household. Homes in our increasingly consumerist and "efficient" culture have become little more than carbon-copies of one another built en masse with cheap products and cheap labor. Indeed, they go against the very idea of a home. For it is a home that becomes an extension of a person; it is his dream in reality. This place becomes a haven for ideals, beauty, and family. What a home is not has become the norm however, and that is a byway on a busy road. People spend few hours in their home. The time they do spend is curtailed by mindless television and sleep.

But I fall off track. William Morris saw the soul of a man birthed in his ability to create something. Others of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood wished to revert to a truthful, Christian lore in their art. Unfortunately, many have said that these men failed as the avante-garde movements of the 19th and 20th centuries were littered with completely emotive "art" that in no way brought man closer to the ideal of Christianity. I would argue, however, that this is untrue.

There have been a few who carried on in the traditions of those mentioned. One in particular has been J.R.R. Tolkien. Tolkien was inspired visually by the works of Waterhouse and other PRB members. He also owed much of his fantastical stories of Middle-Earth to the writing of William Morris. Morris, wonderful craftsman that he was, helped to begin the modern "fantasy" (along with Lord Dunsany)which continues to inspire many to see beauty in the earth, mythology, and good deeds.

In the end, the wonder of a beautiful world that is dazzling to the eye yet lost to death ought to continue to capture our attention. Artists must move back to a love for morality, mythology, and charity in order to renew the wondrous world of art to a land that is completely estranged from it. That is my hope, and I shall do my best to continue on in the legacy of such great men, small a stone as I am.