Written by Dr Gursimran Oberoi, Co-Curator of Women of Influence: The Pattle Sisters

For the purposes of clarity, the Pattle sisters are referred to by their first names in this article. All other figures are referred to in full or by surname.

To celebrate International Women’s Day on Saturday 7 March 2026, the Watts Gallery held a special performance of Pattledom – a short play written by Laura Hart and produced and directed by Charity Wakefield about seven formidable sisters who feature in our latest exhibition, Women of Influence: The Pattle Sisters. I had the privilege of observing a dress rehearsal of the performance in the historic galleries ahead of time. I was mesmerised by the wit, colourful costumes and energy of the actors, and I quickly took out my phone to capture the moment.

The group were seated together in front of G F Watts’s feminist painting, She Shall Be Called Woman, depicting Eve’s birth from the earth in a sweeping cosmic harmony of nature. Seeing the Pattle sisters brought to life by these actors before this monumental painting felt magical, as though art, theatre, and history had folded into one another. A quick tap on my phone captured the moment in an instant and I found myself noting how this speed was in marked contrast to the time and patience needed by the Pattles of the nineteenth century to sit for their portraits which hung close by to the actors reanimating their presence.

The portraits of the Pattle sisters in both painting and photography, as featured in the exhibition, required hours of labour, often involving several sittings. Artist and sitter worked together to construct the desired image, carefully considering pose, clothing, expression, and setting. While history has often reduced these women to the role of models or muses for celebrated male painters such as Watts and Edward Burne-Jones, their portraits suggest a far greater degree of agency and influence within Victorian portraiture. Let us explore this power in art further.

One of the most striking examples is Watts’s Portrait of Virginia Pattle (1850). Painted on the grounds of Holland House – near the home where Virginia lived with her sisters Sara and Sophia – the portrait presents a tall, elegant figure standing in strict profile. Her posture is poised and self-contained, projecting a stillness more often associated with classical sculpture than with the theatricality typical of Victorian society portraiture.

Unlike Watts’s earlier images of idealised, seductive women — such as his portrait of Mary Augusta Fox, Lady Holland — Virginia appears serene, dignified, and entirely at ease within herself. She is less a society beauty than the embodiment of statuesque classicism.

Watts paid particular attention to the folds of her cloak, carefully studying its drapery in an effort to recreate the refined forms of the Parthenon Sculptures. The resulting simplicity of line gives the painting its distinctive power.

When exhibited at the Royal Academy of Arts, the work caused a sensation: Viewers were struck by its quiet restraint and the luminous dignity with which it captured Virginia’s beauty and personal style.

At the foot of the composition lies a small but telling detail: a single stem of ivy draped across the stone steps. In Victorian symbolism, ivy represented fidelity and enduring attachment – a subtle reference to Watts’s lasting, and ultimately unrequited, love for Virginia.

Viewers were especially captivated by her robe-like silken dress, the gentle curls gathered in a hairnet, the delicate emerald drop earrings, and lace collar that frames her elongated neck. These details subtly hint at Virginia’s upbringing in India, where women often wore loose, flowing garments such as saris or lenghas, pinned their hair to manage the tropical heat, and adorned themselves with jewellery that signalled both beauty and social standing. As a contemporary observer remarked, Virginia ‘was the first woman in London to drape herself. The rest of us only dressed.’

The portrait therefore marked more than a stylistic shift for Watts. It signalled a departure from the elaborate conventions of British portraiture associated with artists such as Joshua Reynolds and George Romney.

Its impact extended beyond aesthetics. The painting helped establish Watts’s reputation within the London art world and secured Virginia’s marriage to the aristocrat Charles Somers Cocks, Viscount Eastnor (later 3rd Earl Somers). Most importantly, it became an early testament to the creative partnership between Watts and the Pattle sisters in the years that would shape his work for decades.

The heart of that collaboration was Sara’s home, Little Holland House, where she lived with her husband, their children, and her youngest sisters, Virginia and Sophia. There Sara established a salon that rivalled the political gatherings hosted by the Hollands nearby. Proud of cultivating a haven for the cultural elite, she invited only the most distinguished and promising artists, writers, and thinkers to her home. Guests gathered for animated discussions over strawberries and cream on the lawn at tea or lobster curry at dinner. Prominent figures such as Charles Dickens and John Ruskin were frequent visitors, but Watts became Sara’s artiste extraordinaire. He remained in residence for more than twenty years, working in a dedicated studio within the house. Portraits of the Pattles lined its walls, the sisters serving as inspiration in countless guises from portraits to allegories. As the Pre-Raphaelite painter, William Holman Hunt, observed, ‘Nowhere else in England would it have been possible to enter a house with such a singular variety of beautiful persons inhabiting it’.

This small oil of Sara from 1864 captures a rare closeness in profile. Painted during a difficult period in Watts’s life, the portrait reveals unexpected tenderness. She was widely known – even among her sisters – for her strong will and outspoken opinions, traits that could occasionally cause friction within the family. Yet Watts presents her with notable tenderness; the creamy tones of her plump skin and the faint blush of youth soften her features, while her heavy-lidded gaze suggests a quiet sadness.

This mood may reflect Watts’s own emotional state following the collapse of his brief marriage to the young actress Ellen Terry. Their union ended shortly after it began, and Sara had played a role in its dissolution, believing the teenage actress too immature for the forty-seven-year-old artist. Despite this tension, Watts and Sara remained deeply connected. The portrait seems to capture the complex emotions of a friendship resilient enough to survive disagreement.

One of my favourite portraits from our current exhibition is a three-quarter length profile of Sophia, the youngest and most endearing of the Pattle sisters. Set inside the richly decorated interior of Little Holland House, the painting shows Sophia surrounded by the artistry of the man she affectionately called ‘Signor’.

She wears a green dress layered over a white shift and dark shawl, while coral pearls echo the pink tones of the fresco behind her. The composition feels relaxed and informal, as though we have caught her in a fleeting moment rather than a staged pose.

In its looseness and intimacy, the painting seems to anticipate the modern sensibilities of the Bloomsbury Group – a connection made all the more delightful when we remember that Sophia’s nieces included Vanessa Bell and Virginia Woolf.

In many ways, watching Pattledom in the gallery on International Women’s Day brought this entire history full circle. The actors animated the personalities behind the portraits, reminding us that these women were not simply muses frozen in time – they were lively, intelligent, influential figures whose artistic taste and patronage shaped the world around them. Standing between theatre and portraiture, it felt as though the Pattle sisters had stepped out of their frames and back into the world.