The Rose Bower 

Editor: Today we're looking at "The Rose Bower," an oil painting attributed to John William Waterhouse. There's an undeniable melancholy about the woman's expression; a distant gaze amidst the blossoming roses. What captures your attention most in this piece? Curator: Ah, Waterhouse! He always knows how to paint a dreamy atmosphere. For me, it's the tension between the overt romanticism of the roses and the subtle unease in her eyes. I can’t help but feel like I’ve stepped into one of Tennyson’s poems. The very air feels thick with unspoken feelings and perhaps a hint of bittersweet nostalgia. Doesn't she look like she's stepped right out of a half-remembered dream? Editor: I see that! It's funny, the roses, normally symbols of joy, here almost feel like they're pressing in, suffocating her in their beauty. Curator: Precisely! Notice how Waterhouse uses a Pre-Raphaelite color palette but pushes it even further into a realm of heightened emotion. The crimson of her dress echoes in the deepest shades of the rose thicket. It suggests to me that this feeling is as deeply ingrained as the roses that surround her. It reminds me of when I tried to start a rose garden; I romanticized it so much and reality didn't really settle the same! Tell me, does the garden evoke similar personal echoes for you? Editor: It definitely makes me think about beauty being fleeting! I initially just saw it as romantic. Thanks for that context! I’ll definitely have to spend more time looking beyond first impressions. Curator: And that is the very point of great art; a rose, yes, but so much more...a universe of emotions, really.