Dante Gabriel Rossetti had an affliction for redheads.

I say affliction, not affection, because affection would be too tame of a term. Stemming from the story of the sweeping romance between Dante Alighieri and Beatrice Portinari, Rossetti appointed multiple redhead women as muses for his art.

Among many of these women was his wife, Elizabeth Siddal. With features similar to Alighieri’s Beatrice (most notably her flaming hair), Rossetti used Elizabeth as his model in many of his paintings, including “Beata Beatrix” as she posed in the likeness of Alighieri’s true love.

But unlike the love that Alighieri felt for Beatrice, the love that Rossetti had for Elizabeth fell short. While he had notions of the two love stories being identical, he eventually found that what he felt for Elizabeth did not meet his expectations. Their union disintegrated, leaving Elizabeth crushed.

While studying Rossetti’s paintings and prose in class, we discussed elements of light that were present in certain pieces of Rossetti’s artwork. Candles, windows, and natural light were all sources that illuminated the figures in his paintings. However, we came across issues regarding these sources as challenges to perspective were raised.

Rossetti appears to be inconsistent with the presentation of light verses it’s origin in his art. Certain illuminated areas of the paintings presented issues as to where the source of light came from, as well as curious shadows that were confusingly cast. While our class tossed around the idea that Rossetti deliberately challenges the viewer’s perspective, I believe it might relate to a more deep set complication found within Rossetti himself: he had trouble in discovering his own source of light.

As Rossetti had wild notions of what true love should be, he was held back from discovering his own source of illumination. Sights set on a specific version of love, he allowed the women who cared for him to fall by the wayside, and he was unable to experience the clarity that loving someone can bring. He used multiple beautiful women as his muses, but all in superficiality; he was searching for his Beatrice, and no facsimile would suffice.

I believe that we are all guilty of obfuscating illuminating sources in our lives. We search for the brightest light, convinced of what it should look like. While we may never find its exactness within our lifetime, we overlook other bright sources and obscure their origins. We attempt to use the light we find in our own doings, but without the appropriate appreciation we confuse the path of light and change the perspective.

While challenging the direction of illumination may have worked for Rossetti, I advocate for embracing each source of light, and making sure that it’s path is clear and concise in whichever artwork it resides in. As our Professor noted of Rossetti, “death and love is totally mixed up for him.” Maybe if he had discovered his source of light, things would have been different.