DECORATIVE rather than profound, Lawrence Alma-Tadema (1836–1912) gloried in the visual. Working on The Roses of Heliogabalus (1888) during the dark months of a London winter, he had roses sent from the French Riviera thrice weekly to serve as inspiration for what is one of his most ravishing paintings. For long afterwards, the floor of his London studio was littered with petals.
Although ‘Alma-Tad’, as he was affectionately known by peers, had become embedded within the British artistic establishment, he was of Dutch origin, born in Friesland in 1836. Educated in Leeuwarden, he began studying at the prestigious Royal Academy of Art in Antwerp in 1852. At this time, he came under the influence of Henri Leys, whose history paintings put a firm emphasis on the precise rendering of detail. An example came when Leys asked Alma-Tadema. Leys was not impressed with the result, telling his protégé: ‘That is not my idea of a table. I want one everybody knocks their knees on.’ It was a stricture Alma-Tadema adhered to for the rest of his career.
