After more than four decades immersed in the Pre-Raphaelite aesthetic, my senses have become attuned to its distinctive characteristics: waves of thick hair, delicate features, and the iconic dreamy, introspective gaze. These qualities have become unmistakable to me.
Yet familiarity has not made them any less rare. When I encounter them, whether in person or online, I recognize them immediately. Such encounters are invariably a breath of fresh air and a source of inspiration.
Some months ago, a short video caught my eye. Three young women in Victorian attire frolicked amid lush surroundings that could have been lifted straight from a Pre-Raphaelite painting. As I read the accompanying caption, one name immediately stood out: “Set in 1860s London, the story follows three real-life Greek female artists—Marie Spartali Stillman, Maria Zambaco, and Aglaia Coronio—as they attend a gallery opening and attempt to make their mark alongside the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.” Maria Zambaco. A name I had known for decades. The raven-haired Anglo-Hellenic sculptress had first entered my consciousness through her tumultuous, scandalous, and ultimately ill-fated affair with Edward Burne-Jones, which began in the late 1860s and continued into the following decade. Their relationship has intrigued me for the past forty years.
I became acquainted with actress and screenwriter Andreane Rellou through Instagram when her posts on the short historical comedy-drama The Three Graces started appearing in my feed. Our initial exchanges gradually revealed a shared interest in the Pre-Raphaelites, particularly Maria Zambaco. We’ve stayed in touch ever since, and Andreane has graciously allowed me to use photographs from her account as references for some of my drawings. I couldn’t have asked for a better model.
It was hardly surprising that a still from the film, with Andreane portraying Maria Zambaco, caught my attention. The film is beautifully shot, and Andreane’s refined features are impossible to miss. Initially, I planned to make a fairly detailed pencil study to see where it might lead. If I liked the result, I would consider something more ambitious. After several sessions in my sketchbook, I was finally satisfied with what I’d accomplished, but I wanted to take it further. I could easily have turned the study into a straightforward portrait, but that wouldn’t have been enough.
Stillness and atmosphere have become increasingly important in my work. Whatever the subject, I want viewers to step into the image and linger. I’m not interested in making art that’s merely consumed.
Decades of hard graft and experience have taught me that ideas rarely follow a straight line. They’re constantly evolving, and you’re never quite sure where they’ll lead. One of the most satisfying aspects of creating a study is reaching the point where an idea begins to resolve itself. It may not be fully realized, but enough has emerged to understand its possibilities. My study of Andreane could eventually become something more substantial. For now, it will live in the pages of my sketchbook until the day comes when I encounter her refined features again and know without a doubt what lies ahead.
My thanks to Andreane Rellou for her generosity and for allowing me to use her photographs as reference. You can explore her work on Instagram at @andreanerellou.