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Jean Rhys stood as a lifelong outsider. Coming into the world Welsh and Creole in largely black the culture of Dominica in 1890, she felt displaced across the globe – excessively alien for Europe, overly West Indian for England, too white for Dominica, and far too feminine to receive recognition as a author for the majority of her career.

Artistic Impact and Curatorial Vision

However her artistic legacy continues to grow and resonate, particularly with American critic and curator Hilton Als. His group show is an intoxicating, experimental love letter to Jean Rhys – to her works, her hybrid identity, her life of unbound creativity in a post-imperial era – in the vein of his previous exhibitions-as-portraits of Joan Didion and the activist writer.

Caribbean Origins and Visual Representations

It starts with Dominica, represented through a deep red painting of trees and vessels by Kara Walker, and a vibrant, emerald piece of flames and riders on steeds by Hurvin Anderson, a pair of modern artists interrogating the Caribbean as a place so filled with historical violence it overshadows its beauty.

Dominica was the author’s childhood residence, and the spark for her most important novel, her final work, a backstory to Jane Eyre that highlighted the Creole “madwoman in the attic” of Charlotte Brontë’s tale. Celia Paul’s intense portrait of Brontë stares wildly out of a tiny canvas, while another painter’s ethereal painting of a girl in a shawl returns the gaze. Als is merging directly related work with images that suggest a wider sense of the author and her environment, and it’s completely immersive – it immerses you in her humid, alienating universe.

Continental Experiences and Visual Narratives

Rhys departed from her homeland as a teen and traveled to Europe, where she journeyed, was employed, married and remarried. A pair of vividly colored paintings by a German artist illustrate bodies twisting and writhing, vintage photographs are filled with provocative suggestion, there are shots of Parisian streets, paintings of dim interiors, a twisted sculpture, a grubby abstract. Interwar Europe, at least for Rhys, was all passion, decay, love and art.

Return to Roots and Blending Eras

Downstairs, we’re taken back to Dominica, and then once more to Britain, as Rhys travels between the locations. A massive scene by Reggie Burrows Hodges immerses the viewer in jungle sweat, a dress that belonged to Rhys stands before it on a pale mannequin – petite, but not dwarfed by what surrounds it.

Chronology becomes ambiguous when any of the works are from. Modern landscapes aren’t vastly different from an 1800 etching of a tropical cove, history seems to be collapsing in on itself throughout the exhibition. Sex returns in an incredible, expansive, dynamic, textured nude, and a collection of paintings, before the final room examines Caribbean writers who were inspired and influenced by Rhys.

Strengths and Weaknesses

Some elements is successful – a couple of scribbles look rushed and contribute little, and a graphic drawing looks like a cheap newspaper cartoon – but the show is still a remarkably accomplished example of curatorial art.

Atmosphere and Memory

The curator has crafted an image of the writer through artifacts, archive material and art. It’s not dictatorial, it doesn’t strongly follow a narrative – it depends on vibe, on establishing an atmosphere of tropical warmth, intense longing, ethnic friction and emotional isolation. It’s like walking through recollections, glimpses of a bygone era. It allows the idea of the author, her existence and her world, unfold in your head.

Accessibility and Impact

Is it necessary to have studied the novel and Jane Eyre to appreciate? Certainly, I definitely haven’t but the exhibition’s concepts are substantial enough to keep you hooked, and have you bathing in the cold, threatening waters of Rhys’s iconic work.