feeling listless

Art One of the more embarrassing moments of my teenage years was the time I decided to substitute my initials. So for a while I would sign things SDK rather than my given SIB. These new initials stood for S(tuart) D(ebbie) K(ylie) (the second being as in Gibson the third of the Minogue). I'd print this on anything from exercise books to pencil cases. I'm telling you this because I was heartened to discover in the Rossetti retrospective at The Walker that the world renowned Pre-Raphaelite painter did much the same. He was an admirer of Dante Aligheri's poetry (he illustrated the poet's words over and over) and to honour his inspiration chose to swap his given name Gabriel Charles Dante around henceforth becoming Dante Gabriel Rossetti, and this was the name which appeared on his drawings and paintings. And presumably sketch books and the bags he'd keep his brushes in.

The exhibition is scattered with these interesting little points. It's strength is that unlike other, larger retrospectives, rather than overpowering the viewer with hundreds of facts about the artist's life, it chooses to allow the pictures to tell the story, the information on hand giving context. There isn't much for example about the artist's early life - I have no idea what his parent's names are or for that matter if he had any pets. The story begins instead as he joins The Brotherhood with his early drawings, elaborate doodles really tossing about ideas of the kind of work he is going to indulge in later. If you choose to visit I'd urge you not to dash straight into the main room for the canvases. It's really worth taking the time to follow the map provided and work your way through these drawings and watercolours which appear at the start.

Again to compare with similar exhibitions were we see a conflict of styles and ideas in the artist's early years, it's a pleasure to see here that Rossetti somewhat knew he wasn't a realist painter, his talents lay in illustrating stories from literature. The exhibition continues with a series of drawings and watercolours representing the development of a talent. The works illustrate over and over the models and friends he used over the years. His tragic wife Elizabeth Siddal appears poignantly and his other great muse Jane Morris features even more prominently. It's startling at one point to see her appear in a series of photographs, her features as striking as they are in Rossetti's paint and pencil. Of the two ladies, hers is the painter's signature face, appearing over and over, almost like a film star moving from role to role.

There are deceptively fewer canvases than you might expect, but those which are featured are the classics, the ones you'll know from the calendars and the postcards. Loans have been made from Birmingham, Manchester and The Tate and to see them mingled with The Walker's own collection gives a greater appreciation of the man's work than I've seen in some time. They're split into two sections; the Beauties of the 1860s which depict straight portraiture representing classical figures, and my favourites, his Later Work. Although 'Proserpine' herself hasn't made the trip from London, there is a very good watercolour version; pride of place goes to The Walker's own 'Dante's Dream', probably the pinnacle of his craft and a work which can be looked at for hours on end.

This isn't an exhibition which will convert the visitor if they can't stand the Pre-Raphaelites - it's not that kind of show. It's for the rest of us who have bought the postcards and calendars and admired these works in the solitary positions in collections throughout the country. It's a chance to see them to together, to see the craft of the painter develop along with his passion and obsessions and to wonder what it was really like in the heady days of The Brotherhood.