Procter was often dismissed as a painter of flower pieces, her quietness and subtlety taken for weakness.
her painted women exude the monitory power of the stone statues they resemble: the girl in Morning could be an effigy on a medieval tomb, stirring back to life; the earth goddesses in Virginal and The Orchard are dappled in shimmering green, the latter's sleeping body arched to present us with her pubic area as one outstretched arm lies inches from a green apple.
Procter's subjects gaze inward, sidelong, one girl in outsize pearls seeming weighed down by the symbol of approaching womanhood. In her later work, her technique - very thin paint scrubbed into the canvas and partly scraped away - came to match her style. What this artist had to say, she said in a penetrating whisper.
hat tip Daryl