In 1857, Rossetti and a small group of artists that included William Morris and Edward Burne-Jones were working in Oxford, painting the Union Murals for the local debating society.
One night they attended a performance by actors from the Theatre Royal Drury Lane. Seated in the gallery below were Jane Burden and her sister.
Rossetti was struck by Jane’s appearance, and immediately asked her to pose for the murals. She didn’t show up for their appointment, probably being wary of Rossetti’s proposal. After later seeing Burne-Jones by chance, she again agreed to model and a Pre-Raphaelite star was born.
Jane Morris in The Day-Dream by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Jane posed mainly for Gabriel at first since his main model and muse, Lizzie Siddal, was away at the time. Gabriel was soon summoned to join Lizzie, who was often ill (and had possibly heard through the grapevine about Rossetti’s new model).
Jane then began to sit for William Morris, who happened to be a great admirer of Rossetti’s – he looked upon him as a mentor and it seems his hero worship may have been a dynamic of their friendship.
Morris was quite interested in Arthurian legend and chivalry. He began to paint Jane in La Belle Iseult and it is said that while she modeled for him, Morris had written on the back of the canvas “I cannot paint you, but I love you”, visible to her as she posed – a shy, sweet, romantic gesture.
La Belle Iseult, William Morris
Jane may have been in love with Rossetti from the beginning, but he was already betrothed to Siddal. So Jane found herself engaged and eventually married to William Morris.
The home of William and Jane Morris, The Red House, is famous for its architecture and for the collaborative efforts used to decorate it –decorations which led to the Arts and Crafts movement. Both William and Jane, as well as Rossetti, Burne-Jones, Elizabeth Siddal and others worked together painting murals, creating furniture, tapestries, and other artistic masterpieces.
Jane and William had two children, Jenny and May.
Jane’s affair with Dante Gabriel Rossetti after Lizzie died is infamous. She began to pose for Rossetti again in 1865, which began a series of Rossetti masterpieces familiar to many Pre-Raphaelite enthusiasts. He painted her repeatedly until his death.
Due to Rossetti’s possible hydrocele, a swelling of the scrotum, their affair may not have been as physical as many believe – but the physical aspect was immaterial. They were intimate emotionally and it was incredibly painful for William Morris. In order to keep the affair a private matter, Morris and Rossetti entered into a joint tenancy of Kelmscott Manor.
In Rossetti’s many paintings of Jane, she appears enigmatic and brooding with an inscrutable quality. The works are not to everyone’s taste and I frequently read criticism of Jane’s features on canvas.
I personally find images of her to be quite striking – strong, fierce, and beautiful.
Author Henry James had seen Rossetti’s paintings of Jane Morris during a visit to Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s studios. Upon seeing Jane in person, he had this to write:
“A figure cut out of a missal – out of one of Rossetti’s or Hunt’s pictures – to say this gives but a faint idea of her, because when such an image puts on flesh and blood, it is an apparition of fearful and wonderful intensity. It’s hard to say [whether] she’s a grand synthesis of all the pre-Raphaelite pictures ever made – or they a “keen analysis” of her – whether she’s an original or a copy. In either case she is a wonder. Imagine a tall lean woman in a long dress of some dead purple stuff, guiltless of hoops (or of anything else, I should say) with a mass of crisp black hair heaped into great wavy projections on each of her temples, a thin pale face, a pair of strange, sad, deep, dark Swinburnish eyes, with great thick black oblique brows, joined in the middle and tucking themselves under her hair, a mouth like “Oriana” in our illustrated Tennyson, a long neck, without any collar, and in lieu thereof some dozen strings of outlandish beads – in fine Complete. On the wall was a large nearly full-length portrait of her by Rossetti, so strange and unreal that if you hadn’t seen her, you’d pronounce it a distempered vision, but in fact an extremely good likeness.”
We might ask the same question presented by James: are Rossetti’s paintings of her a keen analysis?
While it is often remarked upon that Rossetti has a tendency to stylize his portraits of women, Jane Morris on canvas is still recognizable as the real Jane Morris. Even though he adds those particular Rossettian touches of serpentine necks and cupid’s bow lips, Jane is still Jane.
In the comparison below we can see that he has made her features more delicate, but the photograph of her shows that apart from this Rossetti stayed somewhat true to her features.
In 1865, Rossetti arranged for John Robert Parsons to photograph Jane in the garden of Tudor House. A marquee was erected and Jane is seen posing under it. Other photos were taken of her against a black background, reclining on a couch, and sitting in a chair. Many photographs were taken that day; I will only include a few here.
Jane Morris. Posed by Rossetti, photographed by John Robert ParsonsJane Morris. Posed by Rossetti, photographed by John Robert ParsonsJane Morris. Posed by Rossetti, photographed by John Robert ParsonsJane Morris. Posed by Rossetti, photographed by John Robert Parsons
My favorite of the photographs is the one below. Her eyes appear unwavering, almost as if she has sized us up and found us wanting.
In Rossetti’s works she often appears enigmatic and inscrutable. Playwright George Bernard Shaw described her as “the silentest woman he had ever met” and this photograph seems to capture this mysterious aura that seemed to surround Jane.
Jane Morris. Posed by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, photographed by John Robert Parsons
In her biography of Rossetti, Jan Marsh draws a comparison between these photos and Felix Nadar’s images of actress Sarah Bernhardt.
Photograph of Sarah Bernhardt by Felix Nadar.
Unlike The Divine Sarah, Jane was not a conventional beauty. Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s notions of beauty were decidedly different than the Victorian status quo. The great muses in his life had striking and unique features that did not fit with the societal norms of the time.
Years earlier, Rossetti painted and drewElizabeth Siddal obsessively.
Siddal had been discovered by Walter Deverell while she worked in a millinery shop and although the story of her discovery has been embellished, she was not discovered because of her beauty. In The Pre-Raphaelite Sisterhood, Dr. Jan Marsh points out that it was Siddal’s plainness that prompted Deverell to include her in his painting Twelfth Night. She then went on to pose for other Pre-Raphaelite artists, the most famous example being John Everett Millais’ painting of Ophelia.
After her relationship with Rossetti began, she sat for him exclusively while pursuing her own artistic career. Rossetti married her in 1860, although she died a mere two years later. Her influence on Pre-Raphaelite art was unmistakable and it is partly because of this (and her tragic death) that her legendary beauty was then described in hindsight.
Drawing of Elizabeth Siddal by Dante Gabriel RossettiDante Gabriel Rossetti portrait of Elizabeth Siddal, 1854
Rossetti’s images of Elizabeth Siddal are beautiful and haunting.
Pre-Raphaelite images of women with gorgeous red hair helped to challenge the perception that red locks were both ugly and unlucky.
Rossetti’s works brought out the delicacy and beauty that he saw in Siddal’s features, but when it came to her own self-portrait she chose to present herself honestly and plainly.
Self portrait of Elizabeth Siddal
I recently read an article about Jane Morris that described her as the ‘ideal Pre-Raphaelite beauty’, but it should be pointed out that there was no unified ideal among the Pre-Raphaelite circle.
Women of different shapes and sizes were inspirations and the strengths of each have merged into what we now recognize as the Pre-Raphaelite Stunner. While I have only used Jane Morris and Elizabeth Siddal as examples in this post, many women painted by the Pre-Raphaelites represented beauties that were unconventional for the time.
What does this mean for us? Rossetti saw something compelling and beautiful in the women he painted and he magnified those features in his works. Like Rossetti, we should not be dictated by societal views of beauty.
Let’s try to resist narrow definitions imposed upon us by society and media. While we may not be a able to change society as a whole, we can definitely change the way we think about ourselves and how we judge the physical appearance of others.
It starts with us changing our own inner voice. The idea of our own worth should not come whispered to us from outside sources, like the curse in The Lady of Shalott.
Many critics have raised concern that Pre-Raphaelite art is a creation of and for the male gaze, a valid critique that we must discuss and explore. However, it is also worth contemplating the unconventional aspects of the beauty presented in Pre-Raphaelite works and how we can interpret them in our own lives today.
“Taking joy in living is a woman’s best cosmetic.”–Rosalind Russell
Women are at the heart of Pre-Raphaelite art, giving rise to the enduring idea of the ‘Pre-Raphaelite Woman.’ The term often appears in media today to describe actresses or musicians with long, flowing hair. Musician Florence Welch being a frequent example and proud embodiment of the look.
But was there ever a single ideal? When we look beyond the painted canvases to the real women who inspired them, we find a rich diversity. To their credit, the Pre-Raphaelites and their circle didn’t idealize just one type; women of varying shapes, features, and presence became muses. Over time, their individual strengths have blended into the image we now call the ‘Pre-Raphaelite Stunner.’
While I’m wary of reducing any woman to her appearance alone, exploring how these models helped shape a visual legacy can offer meaningful insight into the aesthetic we associate with ‘Pre-Raphaelite.’
Photograph of Elizabeth Siddal
Elizabeth Siddal
Elizabeth Siddal was one of the earliest and most iconic Pre-Raphaelite models. Discovered while working at Mrs. Tozer’s millinery shop, she made her first appearance in Walter Howell Deverell’s painting Twelfth Night. Soon after, she posed for William Holman Hunt and John Everett Millais — most famously as Ophelia. Eventually, Siddal became the exclusive muse of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who also took her on as a pupil as she began a promising artistic career of her own. Their passionate, on-again-off-again relationship spanned nearly a decade before they finally married in 1860.
Siddal’s life, however, was marked by physical and emotional suffering. Often described as fragile, she became addicted to laudanum, an opiate commonly used at the time. The stillbirth of her daughter deepened her depression, and in 1862, Siddal died of an overdose.
Seven years later, in a moment of anguish and artistic desperation, Rossetti had her grave exhumed to retrieve a manuscript of poems he had buried with her. That act cast a lasting shadow of tragedy and macabre fascination over Siddal’s legacy.
Yet at the beginning, it was her face and presence that deeply inspired Rossetti. His sister, poet Christina Rossetti, captured this devotion in her poem In an Artist’s Studio: ‘He feeds upon her face by day and night.’
Ford Madox Brown, a fellow artist, described Rossetti’s obsessive drawings of Siddal as a ‘monomania.’ Rossetti himself once wrote that upon first seeing her, he felt ‘his destiny was defined.’ And indeed, her features would go on to dominate his art throughout the 1850s, shaping the very image of the Pre-Raphaelite ideal.
Drawing of Elizabeth Siddal by Dante Gabriel RossettiSketch of Elizabeth Siddal, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Elizabeth Siddal did not fit the mold of conventional Victorian beauty. At a time when a petite, delicate frame was idealized, she was considered somewhat tall. Red hair, too, was unfashionable and was often seen as a sign of bad luck or unattractiveness. Yet Siddal’s vivid hair became a hallmark of Pre-Raphaelite art. Rossetti and his peers portrayed her flowing red locks with such romantic intensity that they helped redefine its aesthetic appeal.
In the years after her death, Siddal’s hair took on an almost mythical status. Charles Augustus Howell famously claimed that when her coffin was exhumed, her hair had continued to grow, filling the casket with fiery strands. Though biologically impossible, the story endured, becoming part of the eerie and enduring legend that surrounds the Pre-Raphaelite circle.
Portrait of Elizabeth Siddal (1854), Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
While Rossetti was captivated by Elizabeth Siddal’s features, it’s equally compelling to consider how Siddal saw herself.
Her self-portrait reflects the Pre-Raphaelite commitment to ‘truth to nature,’ yet it stands apart from the idealized images of women often associated with the movement. Siddal presents herself with honesty and directness — an unflinching portrayal that resists romanticization.
For those interested in exploring her life further, I recommend Lucinda Hawksley’s biography, as well as Jan Marsh’s Pre-Raphaelite Sisterhood and The Legend of Elizabeth Siddal.
Self Portrait of Elizabeth Siddal
Annie Miller
Annie Miller was a muse to artist William Holman Hunt and, like Elizabeth Siddal, appeared in some of the earliest Pre-Raphaelite works. Hunt intended to marry her and arranged for her to receive lessons in refinement, hoping to elevate her social standing. Though his intentions may have been well-meaning, their relationship became strained, especially during his extended trip to the Middle East, and the marriage never happened.
Frustrated by what he perceived as her inappropriate behavior during his absence, Hunt eventually erased Miller’s likeness from many of his paintings, including The Awakening Conscience and Il Dolce Far Niente. As a result, it’s through Rossetti’s depictions of Annie Miller that her presence in the Pre-Raphaelite story endures; those are the images I’ll be sharing below.
Drawing of Annie Miller by Dante Gabriel RossettiAnnie Miller as Helen of Troy, Dante Gabriel RossettiAnnie Miller in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s painting ‘Woman in Yellow’Photograph of Annie Miller
Effie Millais
Effie Gray found herself in a cold, unconsummated marriage to the prominent art critic John Ruskin when she met artist John Everett Millais, who fell deeply in love with her. Following a painful legal annulment (during which she had to endure the indignity of proving her virginity) Effie and Millais were finally able to marry.
Effie’s story was brought to the screen in a film written by and starring Emma Thompson, with Dakota Fanning portraying Effie Gray. The film is often available for streaming on Amazon. For a deeper exploration of the complex and poignant triangle between Effie, Ruskin, and Millais, I highly recommend Effie: The Passionate Lives of Effie Gray, John Ruskin and John Everett Millais by Suzanne Fagence Cooper.
The Order of Release, Sir John Everett MillaisStudy of Effie Millais for ‘The Eve of St. Agnes’Photograph of Effie Millais by (George) Herbert Watkins, albumen print, late 1850s
Fanny Cornforth
Fanny Cornforth may have been Rossetti’s truest and most loyal companion. Often dismissed or disparaged by those in his inner circle, she nonetheless remained steadfast. Her arrival marked a turning point in his art, ushering in a new, sensuous phase—most notably with Bocca Baciata (The Kissed Mouth), a celebration of physical beauty and pleasure.
In contrast to Elizabeth Siddal’s frequent illnesses, Cornforth was vibrant, full-figured, and full of life. Where Siddal was the ethereal muse to be admired from afar, Cornforth was the woman to share laughter, passion, and presence with. Yet despite her closeness to Rossetti, she was not the woman he would marry.
Over time, her role shifted from muse to housekeeper as Rossetti’s artistic focus turned to other faces. Still, she remained a constant presence in his life, a living reminder of an era of joy and creative freedom. For a deeper look into her extraordinary story, I recommend Stunner: The Fall and Rise of Fanny Cornforth by Kirsty Stonell Walker.
Fanny in Fazio’s Misstress, Dante Gabriel RossettiBocca Baciata, Dante Gabriel RossettiPhoto of Fanny CornforthFair Rosamund, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Georgiana Burne-Jones
Georgiana Burne-Jones became engaged to Edward Burne-Jones, whom she lovingly called ‘Ned,’ while still in her teens. Known for her gentle nature and devotion, she remained a supportive partner throughout his life and career.
Affectionately called ‘Georgie,’ she was the fifth of eleven children in the remarkable MacDonald family. Her sister Agnes married painter Edward Poynter, who would go on to become Director of the National Gallery and President of the Royal Academy. Another sister, Louisa, was the mother of future Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin, while their sister Alice gave birth to renowned author Rudyard Kipling.
Georgiana Burne-JonesGeorgiana Burne-Jones, painted by Sir Edward Burne-JonesGeorgiana Burne-Jones, their children Margaret and Philip in the background,
Maria Zambaco
Though Edward and Georgiana Burne-Jones shared a long and devoted marriage, Edward had a significant extramarital relationship with Maria Zambaco, who appears frequently in his work. What began as a passionate affair eventually turned dark and turbulent, and over time, his portrayals of Zambaco took on more complex, even conflicted, undertones.
Maria Zambaco in ‘Cupid and Psyche’ by Sir Edward Burne-Jones‘The Beguiling of Merlin, Sir Edward Burne-JonesPhotograph of Maria Zambaco
Jane Morris
Jane Morris was introduced to the Pre-Raphaelite circle in Oxford, where she caught the attention of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones during a theater performance.
Though she later married Rossetti’s close friend, William Morris, several years after Elizabeth Siddal’s death, Jane became the object of a passionate romance with Rossetti. Their relationship continues to captivate those who study Pre-Raphaelite art, especially as William Morris, though undoubtedly heartbroken, remained consistently loving and supportive toward her.
Rossetti’s paintings of Jane took on the same obsessive quality that characterized his earlier works with Elizabeth Siddal, mirroring the sentiment in Christina Rossetti’s poem In An Artist’s Studio: ‘He feeds upon her face by day and night.‘ Once again, the artist’s fixation is channeled through the image of his muse.
Jane Morris in ‘The Salutation of Beatrice’, painted by Dante Gabriel RossettiProserpine, Dante Gabriel RossettiThe Day Dream, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Alexa Wilding
When Rossetti first spotted Alexa Wilding on a bustling street, he was immediately struck by her presence and asked her to pose for him. Tall and strikingly different from his muse Jane Morris, Alexa’s physical features were a distinct contrast. Yet, during the same period, Rossetti painted both women frequently, imbuing his works with his signature style — those bee-stung lips, strong arms, and elongated necks.
Kirsty Stonell Walker has crafted a captivating fictionalized account of Alexa’s life in A Curl of Copper and Pearl, offering a glimpse into the world of this enigmatic muse..
Alexa Wilding in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘La Ghirlandata’Alexa Wilding, ‘Lady Lilith’, Dante Gabriel Rossetti‘Veronica Veronese’. Dante Gabriel RossettiPhotograph of Alexa Wilding
What about Pre-Raphaelite beauty in today’s woman?
It may seem as if I am pitting these women against each other and sizing them up according to physical appearance, but that is not my intention at all. Rather, I’m trying to demonstrate that what we perceive today as Pre-Raphaelite beauty is, in fact, an amalgamation.
The Pre-Raphaelites were a varied group, and their individual perceptions of what was aesthetically pleasing have blended together into something beautiful and bold.
That is a liberating and inspiring concept. It tells us that we are each Pre-Raphaelite Stunners. It took several types of women to develop the Pre-Raphaelite ideal; it takes women of all types to make up our world.
Break free from society’s limited standards of beauty. Embrace your unique strengths and quiet the inner critic that tries to hold you back. Remember, you are a living embodiment of beauty and, together, we can celebrate the diverse beauty that makes up our world.
Like his fellow Pre-Raphaelites, Dante Gabriel Rossetti used live models in his art — often drawing from a familiar circle of family, friends, and lovers. Over the course of his career, the same faces appear again and again, evolving into visual motifs that now feel inseparable from his name.
Yet as iconic as they are, these women are sometimes misidentified — especially Elizabeth Siddal and Alexa Wilding, who are frequently confused online. This post offers a brief overview of the women who inspired Rossetti’s work. Consider it an introduction rather than a comprehensive guide, but one that highlights just how varied and fascinating these muses truly were.
The Rossetti Family: His First Models
The Girlhood of Mary Virgin 1848-9 Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1828-1882 Bequeathed by Lady Jekyll 1937 http://www.tate.org.uk/art/work/N04872
Rossetti’s earliest works feature his own family members. In The Girlhood of Mary Virgin (1849), his mother Frances Polidori Rossetti posed as Saint Anne, while his sister, poet Christina Rossetti, modeled as the Virgin Mary. Christina would again play Mary in Ecce Ancilla Domina (1850), where Rossetti’s brother William Michael Rossetti appeared as the angel Gabriel.
Ecce Ancilla Domini, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 1849
Pop culture has muddled these facts a bit — thanks to dramatic license in the BBC series Desperate Romantics, many mistakenly believe Elizabeth Siddal posed as Mary in these early pieces. In truth, Rossetti didn’t meet Siddal until later.
Elizabeth Siddal: Muse, Artist, Tragic Icon
Drawing of Elizabeth Siddal by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Elizabeth Siddal entered the Pre-Raphaelite world around 1849–50, first posing for Walter Deverell’s Twelfth Night. She’s perhaps most famously immortalized in Ophelia by John Everett Millais, but her relationship with Rossetti soon took center stage.
In the 1850s, Siddal began modeling exclusively for Rossetti, who became her mentor and encouraged her own pursuits in painting and poetry. Their love story was passionate, creative — and tragic. The couple married in 1860, but Siddal’s health deteriorated. After the stillbirth of their daughter and increasing dependency on laudanum, she died of an overdose in 1862 at just 32.
Profile of Elizabeth Siddal drawn by Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who claimed his destiny was defined the moment he saw her.
Grief-stricken, Rossetti famously buried a manuscript of his poems with her. Years later, those poems were exhumed for publication — a gothic footnote that has only deepened the mythos around her.
Regina Cordium, Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Model: Elizabeth Siddal.
Artist Ford Madox Brown once described Rossetti’s endless sketches of Siddal as a “monomania.” Even after her death, echoes of her remain in his art, and while other muses followed, Siddal was the first to be painted with such intensity — the Beatrice to his Dante.
Annie Miller: The Rebel Model
Drawing of Annie Miller by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Annie Miller was discovered by William Holman Hunt, who pulled her from a life of poverty and arranged for her education. When Hunt traveled abroad, he warned both Miller and Rossetti not to work together.
They ignored him.
Woman in Yellow Dress, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Rossetti painted Miller during the 1850s, a choice that strained his relationship with Siddal. Miller was bold and independent, and her rebellious spirit made her a dynamic figure within the circle—though her time as Rossetti’s muse was brief.
Helen of Troy, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Fanny Cornforth: A New Style Emerges
Fanny Cornforth, 1859, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Fanny Cornforth entered Rossetti’s life in 1858, and with her came a dramatic shift in his artistic style. Unlike previous muses, Fanny was earthy, humorous, and sensuous. Though she was often described (dismissively) as a prostitute, she became one of the most significant figures in his later career.
Bocca Baciata, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
In Bocca Baciata (1859), Cornforth’s image marked a turning point. Rossetti began focusing on voluptuous single female figures, framed by symbols of beauty—jewelry, flowers, rich fabrics. His art became more sensual, more symbolic, more personal.
Cornforth remained close to Rossetti for years, even serving as his housekeeper later in life. Despite harsh judgment from critics and even Rossetti’s friends, their relationship seems to have been a steady one.
Jane Morris: The Enigmatic Stunner
Study for ‘Mariana’ by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Jane Burden, later Jane Morris, was discovered by Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones at a theatre performance in Oxford. Instantly captivated, Rossetti called her a “stunner.” Her deep features and quiet intensity would go on to define an entire phase of his art.
Yet Rossetti’s love for Jane was complicated. After their initial meeting, he returned to care for the ailing Siddal. In the meantime, Jane became engaged to William Morris, who likely viewed himself as her protector and admirer of Rossetti’s work.
‘The Salutation of Beatrice’, Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
After Siddal’s death, Rossetti entered a period of artistic and emotional turmoil. He began drinking, struggled with depression—and fell deeply in love with Jane. Their relationship, though constrained by Jane’s marriage, became a powerful creative force. She inspired The House of Life, his sonnet sequence, as well as some of his most iconic paintings.
Rossetti even exhumed the poems he had buried with Siddal to include them in this new collection—blurring the lines between past grief and present passion.
‘Reverie’, Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
Alexa Wilding: The Most Misidentified Muse
Alexa Wilding, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Of all Rossetti’s models, Alexa Wilding is perhaps the most frequently confused — often mistaken online for Elizabeth Siddal. Tall and striking, Rossetti noticed her on the street and immediately asked her to sit for him.
Though she modeled during the same period as Jane Morris, the two looked very different. Rossetti’s artistic signature—full lips, strong arms, and elongated necks—blurred their features across paintings. This makes identification tricky, but also speaks to how he transformed each woman’s uniqueness into his evolving visual language.
‘Venus Verticordia’, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
One common mistake is the belief that A Vision of Fiammetta features Wilding—it actually depicts Marie Spartali Stillman. Another is that The Blessed Damozel shows Siddal, given its theme of a departed lover in heaven. In truth, the model is Wilding.
A Vision of Fiammetta, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, features Marie Spartali Stillman
More Than Muses: Rossetti’s Legacy of Women
The women who inspired Rossetti’s art were far from a singular ‘type.’ They came from different backgrounds, brought different energies, and challenged Victorian ideals of beauty. Whether they were models, artists, lovers, or friends, each helped shape the Rossetti woman — an image at once strong, sensuous, and unforgettable.
What I love most is how Rossetti celebrated unconventional beauty. His muses weren’t porcelain-perfect — they were distinct, real, and complex. He painted them not to idealize, but to elevate.
Each of them deserves to be remembered for more than just a face on a canvas.
, Jan Marsh draws a comparison between these photos and Felix Nadar’s images of actress Sarah Bernhardt.
, Dr. Jan Marsh points out that it was Siddal’s plainness that prompted Deverell to include her in his painting Twelfth Night. She then went on to pose for other Pre-Raphaelite artists, the most famous example being John Everett Millais’ painting of Ophelia.
