H idden in the beautiful, undulating countryside of Surrey, south of London—much of it ruined, though, by the hideousness of post–Great Wa

The Madman as Painter

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2023-06-04 07:30:02

H idden in the beautiful, undulating countryside of Surrey, south of London—much of it ruined, though, by the hideousness of post–Great War suburbia—is the Watts Gallery, a museum devoted to the work of the Victorian painter George Frederic Watts, once known (it is impossible to suppress a smile) as England’s Michelangelo. Watts (1817–1904) was the son of an impoverished but ambitious piano tuner, and he owed his rapid ascent up the social scale to the swift recognition of his talents by people in the upper reaches of society. Though somewhat lacking in humor, he was charming and good company. When, as a very young man, he went to Italy to study at the font of Western art, the British ambassador to the Duchy of Florence, Lord Holland, and his wife were so taken with him that they asked him to stay. “We have plenty of room,” said Lady Holland, which was no more than the truth: their residence had 100 rooms. He stayed for years.

But I had not come to the Watts Gallery to commune with Watts: I had come to see an exhibition of the pictures of Richard Dadd, said to be the most comprehensive such exhibition ever held. He was a painter of brilliance—and also insane.

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