Yesterday’s Shining Star? The Restoring of Artist Mildred Elsi Eldridge (1909-1991) (2)

Self Portrait Mildred Elsi Eldridge. Photo: Glyndwr University


It has to be asked, this burning, niggling question, but why on earth do we forget women artists so readily? Why is it that their work is less exhibited, less revered or, if noticed at all, only grudgingly accorded a modicum of the status enjoyed by male artists?

I leave it to you to supply the answers to these questions. I only note that this same enquiry was the driving force behind Professor Amanda Vickery’s recent BBC2 series The Story of Women and Art. In this too brief historical exploration of  forgotten/hidden/suppressed  and otherwise invisible women artists, Professor Vickery introduced us to the breath-taking creativity of (among others) Sofonisba Anguissola, Berthe Morisot, Johanna Koerten, Properzia de Rossi and Artemisia Gentileschi.  I will be forever grateful for the introduction.

Now, though, I have a very particular question. It relates to the work you are about to see – details from a great mural that, until fairly recently, was hidden from view.


All photos: Glyndwr University



panel 6 glendwr







So my question is this. What was in the minds of the people when they took down and concealed from sight this work of lucent genius by Mildred Elsi Eldridge; how did they feel when they stowed away the Dance of Life?

Sorely deflated? Bereft? As if the light had gone out?

The work was originally commissioned in the early 1950s by the Hospital Management Committee of the Robert Jones Agnes Hunt Orthopaedic Hospital, Gobowen near Oswestry in Shropshire. A new nurse’s home had been built and the  mural was to hang in the dining hall. The hospital’s Doctors Menzies and Salt had recently been to Sweden and seen how art was being introduced to hospitals to enhance the healing process.

The fee for the commission was £500 and the work took M E Eldridge around five years to complete (Gwydion Thomas in Life and Times of M E Eldridge). In 1999, after being on display for forty years, the mural was put into storage. The hospital was undergoing development. But once consigned to custodial care, it was over a decade before moves were made to restore the panels and find them a new home. 

Elsi’s son, Gwydion Thomas, was a child when the panels were being painted  (see the boy with the monkey above). He says the work was created in their home, in the drawing room of Manafon Rectory, Montgomery. He says that, as there was not enough wall space to hang the work in progress, Elsi rolled up completed portions as she went along, hanging others over doors as she was painting. He says the work wound many times around the room. It is a sharp glimpse into this woman’s focus, vision and determination.


The mural’s overarching theme explores how we industrialized human beings have become detached from the natural cycles of life and death. There are depictions of alienation and loss. Yet the work inspires hope, too, through the reclaiming of forgotten wisdom and traditional ways of living and healing. And so, despite the dark undercurrents, the work is hugely elevating. Joyous.  Transcendent. Full of verve. When fellow artist, Stanley Spencer, saw it in 1958 he wrote to Elsi: “Just one look at the heavenly sheep panel would remove all fear and gloom.”

Art Historian, Peter Lord, has described the work as “a masterpiece on so many levels”, while pointing  out not only the technical ambitiousness of so large a project, but also the fact that Elsi completed the work without a suitable studio.

It is good news, then, that Dance of Life has now been released from custody, restored and put on permanent view at Glyndŵr University’s Centre for the Creative Industries in Wrexham. It can be viewed by visiting the main University Reception (tel: 01978 293950). 


Restoration by Vanessa Andrew in progress at Glyndwr University



Gwydion Thomas speaking at a private view of the restored panels

Photos: Glyndwr University




So: you have seen some of her work, including that self-assured self-portrait at the start of this post, but what of the artist M E Eldridge? Why isn’t she better known?

Mildred Elsi Eldridge

She was born in Wimbledon in 1909, the daughter of a pawn- broker turned  jeweller. She studied at Wimbledon College of Art and then at the Royal College of Art, where her teachers included Eric Ravilious, Edward Bawden and William Rothenstein. She was one of the RCA’s star pupils. In her autobiography she says of this time:

A free studentship in 1931 took me to the RCA which in those days was attached to the Victoria and Albert Museum. There were huge doors from the V&A into the College which were kept securely locked but as there was always one of the museum keepers on duty on the other side of the doors, special signs and knocks could be made so that after signing on at the RCA entrance desk it was possible to escape into the V&A and make drawings of the splendid treasures in the museum, or experimental drawings of one’s own which would probably have received severe criticism from the RCA staff. From there, sallies could be made to the Science Museum across Exhibition Road or to the Natural History Museum to make studies of animals, plants and fungus.

In 1934 The Rome Scholarship competition was held – the subject Music. I submitted the 5′ x 5′ Telling the Bees which later became the central part of the first panel in the mural in the Dining Hall of theNurses’ Home at the Gobowen Orthopaedic Hospital. 

M. E. Eldridge Autobiography


This was the piece that won her the prestigious Travelling Scholarship to Italy and opened the doors to the art world. When she returned to London she soon established herself, being the only artist to sell all her work at 1936 Royal Academy exhibition. The next year she had a one-woman show at the Beaux Arts Gallery, and with the proceeds of the sales, including several to major collectors and large metropolitan art galleries, she bought herself a Bentley car. And then –

She turned her back on the glitter, and headed off in her Bentley for  the Shropshire-Wales borderlands to teach at Oswestry High School and Moreton Hall School for Girls in Shropshire. She lodged just over the border in Wales, in Chirk near Wrexham, and it was in the house where she was staying that she met the fellow lodger, a young curate, who was to become known to the world as poet, R.S. Thomas. She made this portrait of him in 1940, the year of their marriage.

1940 yr of marriage

It would be easy to say that the growing fame of RS eclipsed or stunted Elsi’s talent. He apparently took no interest in her work or did anything to encourage her. There is a revealing interview in the New Welsh Review issue 64 in which Gwydion Thomas says that after Elsi’s death in 1991, his father wondered if Elsi would have “gone on painting properly” if, as they moved from rectory to rectory across Wales, he had ever bothered to arrange for a house with suitable work space for her. RS admitted, too, that he should never have expected her to live at Sarn y Plas in Rhiw (see the previous post) after he retired  from the priesthood, and the church authorities would not allow them to buy the Aberdaron rectory with its pleasant rooms and fine views.


Gwydion describes her room at the house in Rhiw: so dark with two tiny windows, and damp too. She had to keep her paintings in black plastic refuse bags to protect them from the water that  dripped through the walls. It was so cold, that as she painted, she kept her feet inside a cardboard box, along with a two-bar electric heater, and so was frequently burned. The room also had a low loft which she reached by means of a ladder. Here, with the company of mice, she both slept and worked. Tellingly, the new room that the Thomases built at Sarn y Plas served RS as bed-sitting room.

Elsewhere, Gwydion describes Elsi as

a remarkable and talented woman. She painted, and sold, some 2,000 finished pictures and produced innumerable studies…She was a weaver, a sculptor, a clothes maker – she made me clothes out of rabbit and mole skins – and a knitter, a teacher, a writer and illustrator of children’s books…She designed altar cloths, stained glass windows and wrought-iron chandeliers. She designed and planted four gardens, raised a child, cooked for my father: four meals a day, every day, for 50 years.

He did not know why she stopped painting landscapes, and took to churning out what he calls  ‘pretty’ paintings and illustrations. But he does say something that is perhaps illuminating. He says that when his parents first met, RS was writing “dreadful imitations of soppy Georgian poetry”, and full of dreams of Celtic romance. Then along comes this vibrant, shining, well read, well travelled and sophisticated young woman who can introduce him to other kinds of literature, and to the wider world besides.

When it comes to Elsi’s influence on the poet, R S Thomas scholar, Jason Walford Davies, calls her a catalyst, a promoter, the one who made things possible, and helped RS realize a career as poet. She certainly inspired him to write some of his most humane and moving poems.


We met
under a shower
of bird-notes.
Fifty years passed,
love’s moment
in a world in
servitude to time.
She was young;
I kissed with my eyes
closed and opened
them on her wrinkles.
‘Come,’ said death,
choosing her as his
partner for
the last dance, And she,
who in life
had done everything
with a bird’s grace,
opened her bill now
for the shedding
of one sigh no
heavier than a feather.

R S Thomas



And so perhaps, in a sense, R S Thomas was also one of Elsi’s creations, a co-creation certainly. She gave him the gift of possibility, and that is a great gift indeed. Her artist self may indeed have been diminished by the marriage, although she strikes me as a woman who knew her own mind and made her choices accordingly. Perhaps she had painted out all her best thoughts, and felt she had nothing more to add in terms of ‘great works’. She anyway never stopped creating, making paintings for Medici greetings cards for instance, and she was working still when she could barely see.

There seems to be no single explanation, then, as to why M E Eldridge, after such a glittering start, is not better known today. Clearly she had some hand in this when she decided  to drive away from her London career, and head for the Welsh Marches. But then to leave in a Bentley, that most self-aggrandizing of vehicles? It is all so playfully enigmatic.

And so instead of answers, I leave you, in like vein,  with this alluring abstract study called ‘Gwydion’s treasures 1952’. I love the shining light in the marbles: what a heart-felt evocation of childhood freedom, and not a shred of sentiment. Only wonder at the cycle of life and death to be observed upon the sea shore, and seen through the endlessly enquiring eyes of a child. Her child.

abstract 1952


For further discussion of overlooked women artists:

Jeanne de Montbaston Women, Art and Authority: The Language of Exclusion


Text © 2014 Tish Farrell

25 thoughts on “Yesterday’s Shining Star? The Restoring of Artist Mildred Elsi Eldridge (1909-1991)

  1. Fascinating.
    Her work is wonderful and she looked a pretty woman, if somewhat forlorn and introspective.
    Her husband sounds a bit of a wally, to be honest.

    Are there any works by woman artists in galleries such as the Tate, do you know?

    A small tale, if I may?

    … I met a female artist through blogging. Her name is Amanda Fieldgate. She blogs under the name Footsy2 and lives in England and Spain.
    When she first mentioned her art it was on another blogging platform, Letterdash, and I loved it and encouraged her to post pics.
    She did, reluctantly at first, then with more confidence. While living in Spain she mentioned she might try to exhibit, but again was reluctant. I pushed and nagged from over here and eventually she got together with a friend and had her first (informal I believe) exhibition. I cannot recall if she sold, but it made no difference at the time.
    This was around four years ago, I think. After Letterdash folded we all moved here to WordPress and from time to time she would post pics of her art. Because of the exposure, she was commissioned by my publisher to do artwork for a series of children’s books

    I was thrilled for her.
    But for the best was yet to come.For me anyway! I was reading one of her posts when I came across this…

    So. Onwards and upwards.

    My next project is a painting for Le Ark who has been unstinting in his encouragement. I have the canvas and am leaning heavily towards something African. Despite our excellent English summer the light here just doesn’t do it for me.

    It arrived as a late Chistmas Present. And here it is.

    It now hangs on the wall in front of my desk.

    So, although we have not actually met, I know at least one ( living) female artist…and am the proud owner of one of her works.

    Lovely post, Tish.

    1. That is a great story, Ark, and good on you for the encouragement. Creative facilitation. Also the baobab pic is splendid, and lucky you to have it. As to women artists’ lack of visibility generally, I was thinking of what my artist friend Sheilagh Jevons told me when we talked about her painting The House of Belonging – basically that women’s art is under regarded and under represented in galleries. Of course there are the startling exceptions like Frida Kahlo whose work sells for millions, though that’s not necessarily a measure of our valuing her, which her work truly does deserve. Perhaps Elsi Eldridge saw something of that with her early success and that’s why she left for obscurity.

  2. wow. Thanks for bringing this outstanding artist to our attention. It is lovely work – very illustrative and gentle. Work that deserves to be seen. It’s great it now being bought to light.

    1. I thought this work would interest you, Suzanne. And yes, it does deserve to be seen. But it makes you wonder, and this came out in Amanda Vickery’s BBC series – just how much work, especially women’s work, is hidden away in storerooms, or relegated to obscure corners. It’s a shame because we need all the creative nourishment we can get.

      1. It’s a long story Tish. Mum had a degree of local fame during the late 90s before she became ill with Parkinsons disease. She sold her more commercial work. We’re left with the remainders. My brother is the custodian. We did consider mounting a show soon after she died in 2006 but no one was prepared for the work load.
        I have lots of thoughts on the subject of women artists and exhibiting the work of lesser known deceased artists. email me at: if you want to pursue it further. I’m happy to answer any questions you might have through emails.

  3. Thank you for this interesting post. I agree that the work of women artists is not given enough value.

  4. Thanks for this wonderful introduction, Tish! She was very talented on many fronts and it is wonderful that her work is now being restored. Your questions in the beginning are important and thought-provoking…

    1. Glad this piece hit the mark, Tiny. It’s interesting, but I was thinking later that the wide world can accept women as the best ballet dancers and opera singers – but this does not extend to art and literature.

  5. I liked the self portrait very much… and if it’s any consolation, almost all the artists are soon forgotten. There are an iconic few that seem to be taken as place markers in the history of culture, and remembered… sometimes revered… but often, even the homage offered them is indicative of misunderstanding. Whether they be men or women, drive goat carts or Bentleys… their joy is measured in moments and known only to a very few.

    1. Yes, that is a wise observation. Elsi, I think, had her joyful moments. I think I was more concerned that something that was effectively a work of art meant for public display – ie the mural – was in danger of staying in storage forever. We’re not too good on public art in England (outside art galleries that is), and this seems a great shame. I’m still not sure that it’s in the best place, in the foyer of a university building which you can’t just drop into, but at least it is on display and the students can enjoy it.

  6. Dear Tish,
    I bought an oil from Abbott and Holder in the early 90s. If you send an email address I will send a photo of it. The gallery had several works, mainly birds and another oil of back gardens. I saw it and had to have it. Far too expensive for me but I did nor regret it!

    Debbie Beevor

  7. I sent this 3 weeks ago to glyndwr university, wrexham, no aswer up till now

    Subject: The dance of life

    Ladies, gentlemen,

    I am currently working on a project (private, non-commercial) “100 Women in Art”. Mildred Eldridge is one of them.

    I want to make a collage of her work The Dance of Life.

    The images of the 6 panels via Internet are insufficient in terms of resolution.

    Is it possible to send me pictures jpg, png of the 6 panels with a high resolution or can you inform me where I can find and obtain such pictures?


    Martin Rijkaart of Cappellen

    1. The UK is in a state of bureaucratic covid-itis, so it may be that the university really isn’t functioning sufficiently to cater for such requests. On top of that, they will now be taken up trying to sort out the pickle of new admissions after the exam results fiasco. One rather longs for the serene worlds created by Elsie Eldridge. Good luck with your project should cooperation happen. I’m wondering who might be the best person to approach: the Head Librarian maybe?

  8. Hello,

    I suspect this maybe something of a message in a bottle, given the possibility that your sites is no longer up and running. But let’s pretend that it is, okay? At the moment, I’m in middle of reading a marvellous biography of R.S.Thomas, during the course of which the author has cause to mention Elsie’s work, some of which is described: although not as fully as one would wish, along with the usual information that although she’d achieved a degree of fame during her early years: after marrying him, yes, he was an old curmudgeon, well, to be blunt, at least, as far as her work is concerned, she seems to disappear.

    Having said that, biographies are strange beasts, for all they can do is take a few dispirit glances at someones life, gather up a harvest of old letters and a few comments from people who happened to bump into the subject on a bus, and then present all this as a complete life. Oh I’m not blaming them, after all, you can only work with what you’ve got, but I’m pretty sure she would have disagreed with that fairly brief assessment of her artistic life.

    Mind you, I can see why Stanley Spencer eulogised about the work, for in style and feel one sense’s a kind of echo, but then there were of the same generation, and would no doubt have been swept up similar artistic currents, but I’m beginning to ramble, for I’d wanted to reply to the theme with an anecdote of my own.

    I was lucky enough to attend Kingston school of Art in the late fifties: our influences were the Kitchen sink school of painting, whose ever heard of them these days? and now that I am in my dotage, I often think back and wonder what happened to one particular young women who was in my year. In our department, there were two men in their mid twenties, much much older than the rest of us, who would make a point of failing their NDD/s in order to use the painting department as a personal studio. Now I suspect a blind eye was being turned to all this, as they were regarded by the staff as potential genius’s. At the time, I suppose thought that they were quite good, but then the elderly gentleman whose writing this knows dam well that they were rubbish compared to this quiet young woman: whose name I’m afraid I forget, someone whose work I regarded as second only to mine own. Yes, I’m ashamed to say that I did actually write that, but then that’s how I felt that at the time. But I was wrong, for she was not only superior when it came to handling the raw materials, paint, canvas and brushes, conceptually she was miles ahead of the rest of us.

    As I say, I often think about her and wonder what happened to her. Did she, like so many other talented women, set that aside in order to raise children and put food on the table for her husband? Maybe, or maybe not, for she was a bit of an odd bod, not much taken to mixing with either sex. But which ever way, I can only agree with the general theme that this is why womens work is so conspicuous by its absence.


    1. I’ve just been looking at your work, David. You encapsulate it so eloquently: “Unbeknownst to me, this palpable tension between the Christian and Pagan versions of the hidden world was busy laying the foundation for the kind of work I found myself producing in later years”.

      That hidden (often all but lost) world that was the heart and soul of us before Big Dogma overlaid, and made less of us somehow, is what interests me as a writer, though I’ve all but abandoned the task of attempting to write of it.

  9. Thank you for all those thoughtful insights and observations, David. My sense is that Elsi did side-line herself, but it is hard to say if it was directly her choice to do so. I also have the impression that she and RS lived in very primitive domestic situations, which made the daily round alone something of a toil. Gwydion, their only child ( and as a child) remembers her working on the magnificent Dance of Life panels. He also says how she was creative on so many fronts, though he, too, did not understand why she gave up landscape painting. Perhaps she had said all she wished to say in the Dance of Life. Perhaps the necessary investment of self was too great for her, i.e. living alongside someone whose role it was to serve the community.

    My personal view would be that women do tend under value their creative selves; domesticity and maintaining family relationships do take their toll on output. Apart from which our culture still does not particularly admire or uphold single-minded women, whatever their field of operation.

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