In this interdisciplinary volume, historians of art, literature, dress, and theater examine the impact of the actress on British art and culture of the Georgian era. From the celebrated doyennes of the stage to the demireps on the periphery of the profession, female performers are shown to have played a vital and hitherto under-appreciated role in the artist’s studio, forging fruitful collaborations with leading artists and becoming nearly as influential in the studio as on the stage. Acting as models, muses, and patrons, actresses inspired a remarkable proliferation of images in which issues of theatricality, sexuality, and social mobility were explored in ways that were impossible in depictions of more “respectable” women.
Published for the Paul Mellon Centre for Studies in British Art
Interesting collection of essays about the role of actresses in Georgian society. It was the start of the cult of celebrity and many of these women (Sarah Siddons, Frances Abington etc.) were universally famous – in fact ‘The Siddons’ was recommended to tourists as one of the essential attractions of London, like the Tower. It was a period when they were beginning to throw off the traditional associations with prostitution, and there was a strange mixture of ways that famous actresses were described – some (typically tragic actresses) with great decorum, others (typically comic actresses) in overtly sexualised terms. Many of them had, in fact, started as sex workers of various kinds, which didn't help. The public debate about their fashion sense and their high-profile affairs frankly looks not very different from how actresses are written about today.
The best pieces in here for me were the first two: one discusses in practical terms the way both actresses and prostitutes sat for the painter Joshua Reynolds; the other looks in detail at the representations of sexuality in contemporary descriptions of actresses. There is also a great piece from Aileen Ribeiro about fashions of the period. The essay on caricature is quite interesting but has been superseded by Vic Gattrel's City of Laughter. The lack of an index is a pain in the arse, but otherwise this is a nice exploration of a particularly strange and potent time in British cultural history.