Gloria Brame в рамках пятничных обзоров эротического искусства представляет историческое развитие изображения классической сцены - Андромеда связана и под угрозой чудовища перед освобождением Персеем. (25 фото)
от Древней Греции - до Арт Деко
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What is it about a naked woman in bondage that makes us react so strongly?
The fascination with female bondage is universal and, as this special erotic art feature reveals, its appeal is timeless.
If you're a regular fan of my sexed-up erotic art Fridays, you know that last week I looked at how the homoerotic Ganymede myth (male god rapes male youth by transforming into an eagle) was lovingly recreated by numerous artists. Today I'm taking a look at the myth of Andromeda - the original girl-in-bondage from Greek mythology.
The story, in plain English: a girl named Andromeda was chained to a rock to appease the sea-god Poseidon. Andromeda's mother, Casseopia, had had the hubris (Greek for Chutzpah) to compare herself to Aphrodite. To punish Casseopia, Poseidon inflicted great suffering upon the land. So an oracle was consulted and SNAP. There was a simple, easy way to mollify the ghastly sea-god: just chain Casseopia's daughter Andromeda to a rock on and let a sea-monster devour her. Naturally, it being mythological Greece and all, Mom quickly agreed.
Happily, Greek hero Perseus, happened to be flying through the area on winged sandals. He was returning triumphantly from a battle with the Gorgon. Perseus sees the chained girl below, swoops down to slay the sea-monster, rescues Andromeda from her chains, and later marries her. Not often that a Greek myth ends so happily.
Since Greco-Roman times, the myth has captivated artists and titillated fans. But every age's mores modified the myth in art. In the Greco-Roman era, she was modestly attired and Perseus was naked, as befitted the customs and morals of those days. By the 14th century, she was fully dressed, as was her rescuer, in accordance with prevailing religious doctrine. But during the Renaissance, Andromeda transmuted into a profoundly sexualized female seen through the lens of misogynistic culture. She lost all her clothes while Perseus is shown wearing armor. His fruity winged sandals turned inexplicably into a macho winged horse (no Greek myth accounts for this). And while many early artists were uncertain about graphically showing Andromeda in bondage, later artists had no trouble at all detailing the chains or the pain. The figure of Andromeda grows increasingly sensual and erotic; she takes up a more central place in the image, while Perseus is relegated to the background. Eventually, Perseus disappears almost completely.
Because, after all, what everyone is really interested in is the girl in bondage. And with increasing freedom of artistic expression, artists illustrated that point.
A side note: two of the works below were painted by women. The divine de Lempicka, whose work was featured here a couple of weeks ago; and Christine de Pisan (alt. Pizan). a fifteenth century writer/artist/thinker and...iconoclastic, anti-misgynistic feminist! Though she apparently took more risks in her rhetoric than in her painting, as you'll see.
I'm organizing these into historic periods, and then chronologically (roughly) within the categories.
I hope you enjoy the show. I hope it gives you new ways of thinking about women and history and art.
Greco-Roman images of Andromeda
Greek era mosaic:
Roman era (Pompei) fresco:
14th to 17th Centuries
In 1411, feminist icon Christine de Pisan, gave the couple a prim, fully-dressed appearance.
In 1515, di Cosimo curiously omitted Andromeda from his interpretation of the Andromeda myth. Is this a fragment?? Perseus looks like a pre-cursor to Peter Pan. It was definitely an age of magical thinking.
Don't worry - the arts came back to their senses. In 1602, Cesari tore off Andromeda's clothes and she stayed naked after that.
Vasari threw a bunch of gratuitous naked girls into the picture.
Andromeda's naked beauty overwhelms the canvas in Wtewael.
Morazzone keeps us focused on the chained victim through his use of light.
Palma lights her up and lets her take center stage.
Rubens liked the subject so much, he repeated himself. Twice.
Rembrandt didn't want Perseus distracting us from Andromeda's naked plight.
18th to 20th Centuries
Many of these artists were working contemporaneously so my chronology may be slightly off. But this is roughly organized from the late 18th to the early 20th.
William Etty was clearly enthralled by the myth. Here are three Andromeda paintings by him.
And my personal favorite among Etty's interpretations of Andromeda:
Couperie produced this bondage gem in 1819.
Chasserieu's 1840 Andromeda looks bisexually chic.
Delacroix's Andromeda is suggestive.
Latour's is coy.
Leighton's bondage is painful.
Moreau's Andromeda is oh so Victorian.
Dore's is beautiful, fleshly, beautiful and wild. Another kind of Victorian.
A fully-clad Perseus makes Andromeda appear even more naked and degraded in Burne-Jones.
This 1892 engraving (artist unknown) puts Andromeda in a position that many SMers dream about.
And to bring the show up to the 20th century, one of the most powerful visions of Andromeda ever created, by deLempicka.
- What is it about a naked woman in bondage that makes us react so strongly?
The fascination with female bondage is universal and, as this special erotic art feature reveals, its appeal is timeless.
If you're a regular fan of my sexed-up erotic art Fridays, you know that last week I looked at how the homoerotic Ganymede myth (male god rapes male youth by transforming into an eagle) was lovingly recreated by numerous artists. Today I'm taking a look at the myth of Andromeda - the original girl-in-bondage from Greek mythology.
The story, in plain English: a girl named Andromeda was chained to a rock to appease the sea-god Poseidon. Andromeda's mother, Casseopia, had had the hubris (Greek for Chutzpah) to compare herself to Aphrodite. To punish Casseopia, Poseidon inflicted great suffering upon the land. So an oracle was consulted and SNAP. There was a simple, easy way to mollify the ghastly sea-god: just chain Casseopia's daughter Andromeda to a rock on and let a sea-monster devour her. Naturally, it being mythological Greece and all, Mom quickly agreed.
Happily, Greek hero Perseus, happened to be flying through the area on winged sandals. He was returning triumphantly from a battle with the Gorgon. Perseus sees the chained girl below, swoops down to slay the sea-monster, rescues Andromeda from her chains, and later marries her. Not often that a Greek myth ends so happily.
Since Greco-Roman times, the myth has captivated artists and titillated fans. But every age's mores modified the myth in art. In the Greco-Roman era, she was modestly attired and Perseus was naked, as befitted the customs and morals of those days. By the 14th century, she was fully dressed, as was her rescuer, in accordance with prevailing religious doctrine. But during the Renaissance, Andromeda transmuted into a profoundly sexualized female seen through the lens of misogynistic culture. She lost all her clothes while Perseus is shown wearing armor. His fruity winged sandals turned inexplicably into a macho winged horse (no Greek myth accounts for this). And while many early artists were uncertain about graphically showing Andromeda in bondage, later artists had no trouble at all detailing the chains or the pain. The figure of Andromeda grows increasingly sensual and erotic; she takes up a more central place in the image, while Perseus is relegated to the background. Eventually, Perseus disappears almost completely.
Because, after all, what everyone is really interested in is the girl in bondage. And with increasing freedom of artistic expression, artists illustrated that point.
A side note: two of the works below were painted by women. The divine de Lempicka, whose work was featured here a couple of weeks ago; and Christine de Pisan (alt. Pizan). a fifteenth century writer/artist/thinker and...iconoclastic, anti-misgynistic feminist! Though she apparently took more risks in her rhetoric than in her painting, as you'll see.
I'm organizing these into historic periods, and then chronologically (roughly) within the categories.
I hope you enjoy the show. I hope it gives you new ways of thinking about women and history and art.
Greco-Roman images of Andromeda
Greek era mosaic:
Roman era (Pompei) fresco:
14th to 17th Centuries
In 1411, feminist icon Christine de Pisan, gave the couple a prim, fully-dressed appearance.
In 1515, di Cosimo curiously omitted Andromeda from his interpretation of the Andromeda myth. Is this a fragment?? Perseus looks like a pre-cursor to Peter Pan. It was definitely an age of magical thinking.
Don't worry - the arts came back to their senses. In 1602, Cesari tore off Andromeda's clothes and she stayed naked after that.
Vasari threw a bunch of gratuitous naked girls into the picture.
Andromeda's naked beauty overwhelms the canvas in Wtewael.
Morazzone keeps us focused on the chained victim through his use of light.
Palma lights her up and lets her take center stage.
Rubens liked the subject so much, he repeated himself. Twice.
Rembrandt didn't want Perseus distracting us from Andromeda's naked plight.
18th to 20th Centuries
Many of these artists were working contemporaneously so my chronology may be slightly off. But this is roughly organized from the late 18th to the early 20th.
William Etty was clearly enthralled by the myth. Here are three Andromeda paintings by him.
And my personal favorite among Etty's interpretations of Andromeda:
Couperie produced this bondage gem in 1819.
Chasserieu's 1840 Andromeda looks bisexually chic.
Delacroix's Andromeda is suggestive.
Latour's is coy.
Leighton's bondage is painful.
Moreau's Andromeda is oh so Victorian.
Dore's is beautiful, fleshly, beautiful and wild. Another kind of Victorian.
A fully-clad Perseus makes Andromeda appear even more naked and degraded in Burne-Jones.
This 1892 engraving (artist unknown) puts Andromeda in a position that many SMers dream about.
And to bring the show up to the 20th century, one of the most powerful visions of Andromeda ever created, by deLempicka.
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