Ian Warrell

Pre-Raphaelite of the world

issue 20 January 2007

Had there been a poll of the nation’s favourite painting 100 years ago, the front runner would almost certainly have been William Holman Hunt’s ‘The Light of the World’. Its representation of a crowned and bearded figure, knocking at a door that is obstructed by thorns and dead flowers, was a sermon in paint. Viewers were expected to piece together its symbolic references and arrive at the idea of a suppliant Christ, offering to redeem the world with the light of his salvation, even as he meekly awaits admittance by each individual. As well as being a work of faithful naturalism, painstakingly recorded during chilly moonlit nights in the Surrey countryside, it is an image profoundly in tune with the proselytising zeal of Victorian evangelism.

Back in 1906-7, against a gathering current of more radical impulses in modern art, Hunt’s image was taking the world by storm. A larger version of his original picture began to tour the colonies, starting in Canada, before heading south to Australia and New Zealand.

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