If The Merciful Knight (cat. no. 26) had shown how far Burne-Jones had come in his early years, Phyllis and Demophoon, the most important of his exhibits at the Old Water- Colour Society in 1870, was a milestone of equal signifi- cance in his full maturity. A romantic subject taken from a classical source is painted in an appropriate combination of styles: the late Pre-Raphaelite technique of dense, dry-brush, suffused watercolour, with attention to flat decorative detail, coalesces with an overt homage to a High Renaissance ideal of figure painting from the nude. The subject of this important work occurs in Chaucer's "Legend of Goode Wimmen," but significantly, Burne-Jones identifies its earlier origin in Ovid s Heroides. Phyllis, daugh- ter of the King of Thrace, falls in love with Demophoon, son of Theseus, who is staying at her father's court. He departs the court, but promises to return. When he fails to keep his promise, Phyllis kills herself, and is turned by the gods into an almond tree. On his eventual return, Demophoon remorsefully embraces the tree, from which Phyllis emerges to forgive and reclaim her faithless lover. 1 A tiny thumbnail sketch exists for the composition (William Morris Gallery, Walthamstow), in which Phyllis is slightly more dominant; two fine studies for the male torso (London art market) show the development of the figure of Demophoon, whose head is that of a studio model. Phyllis has the unmis- takable features of Maria Zambaco, with whom Burne-Jones had been infatuated since 1868 (see cat. no. 49). Her depiction in such a scene as this, with its poignant Latin tag — "Tell me what I have done, except to love unwisely?" — has provoked much discussion on the psychological implications of the pic- ture, which at the very least must have served as an act of catharsis in exorcising the artist s feelings of guilt toward his wife as well as toward his mistress. 2 Whether the nature of Burne-Jones's relationship with Maria was widely known is uncertain, but there was much else about Phyllis and Demophoon that fueled controversy and pro- vided a target for criticism in the art press. "This painter has been a wonder to critics," wrote F. G. Stephens in the Athenaeum, "and of course much abused by unmitigated adoration from one side, and cruel and unmerciful contumely from the other." 3 While allowing that there might be "parts in this picture which no other artist could have painted," the critic for the Art Journal regarded the figures as "rather too green for flesh and blood, at least of ordinary mortals." The Illustrated London News went further, condemning the picture as "nothing but a stony, bloodless figment of the fancy — something which, like the amatory poetry of the Swinburne school, might be loath- some were it not for its fantastic unreality." 4 Stephens did not agree, finding "more than enough to delight one in the Giorgionesque tones of the flesh of Demophoon and the land- scape background." In the Times, Tom Taylor found "no characterisation of sex between the Demophoon and the Phyllis," and considered that "the idea of a love-chase, with a woman follower, is not pleas- ant." 5 To the concept of female sexual assertiveness was added a simpler affront to decency in the depiction of Demophoon's genitalia, deliberately not covered by adjacent flowing drapery. Accounts differ, but it seems that the Society received an anonymous letter of objection. The thin line between acceptable nudity and scandalous nakedness had recently been debated with respect to Leighton's oil painting Helios and Rhodos, a more thoroughly classical but no less passionate subject that had been shown at the Royal Academy in 1869, and the Committee understandably must have wished to avoid anoth- er fuss. 6 The Society's President, Frederick Tayler (1802-1889), was deputed to visit Burne-Jones, who "declined to make some slight alteration in removable chalk, and withdrew not only the picture from the walls, but himself from the Society." 7 Already sold to the Liverpool collector Frederick Leyland, the work was duly taken down. Although the circumstances could hardly have been more uncomfortable — salt was rubbed in the wound by a suggestion that the Orientalist painter Carl Haag (1820-1915) might lend something to fill the space — Burne-Jones was probably relieved to have the opportunity to relinquish the demands of annual public exhibition. His experimental and instinctive use of a heavy admixture of water- color, bodycolor, and gum must in any case have been anathema to the purists among the Society's older members, who would have agreed with the Art Journal's critic that his work "in sub- stance and surface might almost be mistaken for oil." "The conviction that my work is antagonistic to yours," Burne-Jones wrote to the Society in a formal letter of resignation, "has grown in my mind for some years past, and cannot have been felt only on my side." He had received some support, notably from Frederick Burton (who honorably carried out his threat to resign in sympathy), but concluded that "in so grave a mat- ter as this, I cannot allow any feeling except the necessity for absolute freedom in my work to move me." 8 1. It has been pointed out that while there are various sources for the blos- soming of the almond tree on Demophoon's return, the reemergence of Phyllis appears to be the artist s invention; neither element is mentioned in Ovid or Chaucer. See Lady Lever Art Gallery collection 1994, p. 18. 2. See, for instance, Jan Marsh, The Pre-Raphaelite Sisterhood (New York, 1985), pp. 281-82. 3. Athenaeum, April 30, 1870, p. 586. 4. Art Journal, June 1870, p. 173, and Illustrated London News, April 30, 1870, p. 459, respectively. 5. Times (London), April 27, 1870, p. 4. 6. See Alison Smith, "The Nude at Public Exhibition, 1866-1870," The Victorian Nude (Manchester, 1996), chap. 4. 7. J. L. Roget, A History of the "Old" Water-Colour Society (London, 1891), vol. 2, p. 117. 8. Memorials, vol. 2, p. 12.
Signed and dated: EBJ 1870; on verso, in the artists hand: Phyllis and Demophoon "dic mihi quid feci? nisi non sapientier amavi" E Burne Jones The Grange Northend Fulham. This quote is taken from Ovid's Epistles Book 2, where in a letter to Dermophoon, Phyllis is rebuking him for his neglect and asks "What have I done? Except perhaps to have lov'd you to excess". In the studies Burne-Jones has depicted a man in fear which was mollified in the final work and he appears remorseful rather than frightened. EB-J was very familiar with Apollo and Daphne by Antonio Del Pollaiuolo through reproductions and used the composition (reversed) for Phyllis and Demophoon. Evidence of Burne-Jones's admiration for the work of Pollaiuolo is given in Memorials Vol2 p 21 in a extract from a letter from Ruskin to the artist in 1871 "Then follows an almost pathetic recognition of their "quarrel," with a fling at Signorelli and Pollajuolo, whom he knew Edward specially honoured "I never thought you and I should ever differ about figure drawings til that great schism about the Orvieto man - I forget his name - it's cold today and my brain frozen - (Pollajuolo also I can't stand).""
The subject of this important work occurs in Chaucer's 'Legend of Good Women', though Burne-Jones also significantly sites Ovid's 'Heroides'. Phyllis, Queen of Thrace, falls in love with Demophoon, son of Theseus. He departs but promises to return in six months' time. When he fails to keep his promise, Phyllis hangs herself, and is turned by the gods into an almond tree. On his eventual return, Demophoon remorsefully embraces the tree, which blooms, as Phyllis emerges to forgive and reclaim her faithless lover. Both Phyllis and Demophoon are modelled on Maria Zambaco, with whom Burne-Jones had been having an affair since June 1868 (a host of studies exist for both figures, in various locales). And for this reason, in conjunction with Demophoon's nudity, a controversy ensued when it was exhibited at the Old Watercolour Society for the Summer Exhibition of 1870. Within two weeks of the exhibition's opening, Burne-Jones withdrew the painting due to complaints, and two works by other artists were exhibited in its place. In August 1870, Burne-Jones resigned from the Society, over artistic integrity.