The Rape of Europa

The Rape of Europa is a well known Greek myth, Cretan in origin, which deals with the abduction of Europa by Zeus, disguised as a bull. The first mention of the story was in Homer's Illiad, which is usually dated to around 8 century BCE. This version is from Ovid's Metamorphoses.
'Majesty and love go ill together, nor can they long share one abode. Abandoning the dignity of his sceptre, the father and ruler of the gods, whose hand wields the flaming three-forked bolt, whose nod shakes the universe, adopted the guise of a bull; and, mingling with the other bullocks, joined in their lowing and ambled in the tender grass, a fair sight to see. His hide was white as untrodden snow, snow not yet melted by the rainy South wind. The muscles stood out on his neck, and deep folds of skin hung along his flanks. His horns were small, it is true, but so beautifully made that you would swear they were the work of an artist, more polished and shining than any jewel. There was no menace in the set of his head or in his eyes; he looked completely placid.
Agenor's daughter was filled with admiration for one so handsome and so friendly. But, gentle though he seemed, she was afraid at first to touch him; then she went closer, and held out flowers to his shining lips. The lover was delighted and, until he could achieve his hoped-for pleasure, kissed her hands. He could scarcely wait for the rest, only with great difficulty did he restrain himself.
Now he frolicked and played on the green turf, now lay down, all snowy white on the yellow sand. Gradually the princess lost her fear, and with her innocent hands she stroked his breast when he offered it for her caress, and hung fresh garlands on his horns; till finally she even ventured to mount the bull, little knowing on whose back she was resting. Then the god drew away from the shore by easy stages, first planting the hooves that were part of his disguise in the surf at the water's edge, and then proceeding farther out to sea, till he bore his booty away over the wide stretches of mid ocean. The girl was sorely frightened, and looked back at the sands behind her, from which she had been carried away. Her right hand grasped the bulls horn, the other rested on his back, and her fluttering garments floated in the breeze.'

After the abduction, Zeus reveals his true identity, and Europa became the first Queen of Crete. Zeus also recreates his disguise, the bull, as a constellation, which is now known as Taurus.
I have included a selection of art, depicting different versions of the myth, from different eras.

Guido Reni 1637-0

Noel Nicolas Coypel 1727

Peter Paul Rubens 1630

From a Fresco in Pompeii

From a Greek vase circa 480 BCE

The Story of Daphne and Apollo

The myth of Daphne and Apollo has been a favourite story to depict in art for hundreds of years. The story is that the god Apollo falls in love with a young maiden, Daphne, who flees from his advances. When caught, Daphne calls to the gods for help, and is consequently turned into a laurel tree. This extract is taken from Ovid's Metamorphoses, and I have included a small selection of art depicting the myth, from different periods of history.

'He would have said more, but the frightened maiden fled from him, leaving him with his words unfinished; even then, she was graceful to see, as the wind bared her limbs and its gusts stirred her garments, blowing them out behind her. Her hair streamed in the light breeze, and her beauty was enhanced by her flight. But the youthful god could not endure to waste his time on further blandishments and, as love itself prompted, sped swiftly after her. Even so, when a Gallic hound spies a hare in some open meadow he tries by his swiftness to secure his prey, while the hare, by her swiftness, seeks safety: the dog, seeming just about to fasten on his quarry, hopes at every moment that he has her, and grazes her hindquarters with outstretched muzzle, but the hare, uncertain whether she has not already been caught, snatches herself out of his very jaws, and escapes the teeth which almost touch her.
Thus the god and the nymph sped on, one made swift by hope and one by fear; but he who pursued was swifter, for he was assisted by love's wings. He gave the fleeing maiden no respite, but followed close on  her heels, and his breath touched the locks that lay scattered on her neck, till Daphne's strength was spent, and she grew pale and weary with the effort of her swift flight. Then she aw the waters of the Peneus; 'O father,' she cried, 'help me! If you rivers really have divine powers, work some transformation, and destroy this beauty which makes me please all too well!' Her prayer was scarcely ended when a deep languor took hold of her limbs, her soft breath was enclosed in thin bark, her hair grew into leaves, her arms into branches, and her feet that were lately so swift were held fast by sluggish roots, while her face became the treetop. Nothing of her was left, except her shining loveliness.
Even as a tree, Phoebus loved her. He placed his hand against the trunk, and felt her heart still beating under the new bark. Embracing the branches as if they were limbs he kissed the wood: but, even as a tree, she shrank from his kisses. Then the god said: 'Since you cannot be my bride, surely you will at least be my tree. My hair, my lyre, my quivers will always display the laurel. You will accompany the generals of Rome, when the Capitol beholds their long triumphal processions, when joyful voices raise the song of victory. You will stand by Augustus' gateposts too, faithfully guarding his doors, and will hang there. Further, as my head is ever young, my tresses never shorn, so do you also, at all times, wear the crowning glory of never-fading foliage.' Paean, the healer, had done: the laurel tree inclined her newmade branches, and seemed to nod her leafy top, as if it were a head, in consent.'

John William Waterhouse

Bernini

Antonio del Pollaiolo

Arthur Hacker

Hubert von Herkomer

Not art, but an amazing photo nonetheless - the tree actually looks like a dancer...Daphne?!?

Waterhouse's Circe

In my Classics class, we have just finished studying Homer's The Odyssey. I have come to really love The Odyssey - it is a great story and is surprisingly easy to read, given it is over two thousand years old. One of my favourite characters that is included in the epic poem is the Goddess Circe. Circe was a favourite subject of Pre-Raphaelite painters; the wonderful John William Waterhouse produced three finished paintings.    

Circe Offering The Cup To Ulysses 1891

This painting depicts the moment when Circe offers the cup of poison to Odysseus/Ulysses which will turn him into an animal, like his crewmen before. In this version Circe looks rather powerful, for at this moment she does not realise that Odysseus has taken an antidote given to him by the god Hermes. The mirror is useful to let much needed light into the scene and to give the viewer a chance to see Odysseus. Circles are used to good effect in this painting; the mirror, the tiled floor, the curve of marble and chair, and the cup. They balance out the straight lines of the column, the diagonal line of Circe's dress and her outstretched arms. 

Circe Invidiosa 1892

This second Waterhouse painting is not a depiction of Circe from The Odyssey, but taken from Ovid's Metamorphoses. In Metamorphoses the story is told of Glaucus and Scylla ( another Odyssey character). The sea-god Glaucus falls in love with the beautiful Scylla, and asks Circe for a love potion. Circe, however, fancies taking Glaucus as her lover and, when he refuses, she takes revenge and pours poison into the pool where Scylla bathes; transforming her into a monster. The act of poisoning the water is the scene which Waterhouse chose to depict for his second painting of the Greek sorceress. The strange sea monster (?) at her feet hints at the outcome of this jealous act. Again, different shapes are contrasted in the composition  the vertical features such as the rectangular canvas shape, Circe's body elongated by the fall of her dress, and the thin stream of poison, are balanced by the circular shape of the bowl, the curl of the ghostly tail, and the ripples and bubbles in the water. The colours in this painting are really beautiful. the variants of gorgeous blue are balanced by the darker hues of Circe's dress and the woods and the pale colour of her skin. I find her dress is very aesthetic - the lose flowing lines and pattern of peacock feathers, which is also suggestive of vanity.

 Circe (The Sorceress) 1911-15

This is the last painting of Circe that Waterhouse did. I think it is quite different from the previous two, for Circe is not shown as a powerful enchantress, but rather a normal woman. She looks quite sullen and thoughtful. The colour orange is prevalent and varies in shades, most striking is Circe's hair and dress. Beautiful!
Best wishes

Medea

When I decided to study Classical Civilization at A-Level, my only knowledge of the Classical world was watching the great films Jason and the Argonauts and Gladiator, and various classical subjects depicted in art. Taking this most curious and wondrous subject has to be one of the best decisions I have made - it is so very interesting! One painting always fascinated me - Medea by Frederick Sandys. I wondered what the story was. After going to see Euripides' play of the same name, I decided to research more about this interesting mythical woman. 

Medea by Frederick Sandys 1868. The model was Keomi Gray, a Gypsy woman Sandys used for many of his paintings. They had two sons together, before Sandys married the actress Mary Emma Jones (known as Miss Clive). The painting was submitted to the Royal Academy in 1868 but was rejected because of the paintings subject. It was accepted the following year and received good reviews. 

In Greek Mythology, Medea is best known as the wife of the hero Jason, of Jason and the Argonauts fame. She was the daughter of King Aeetes of Colchis, niece of Circe and granddaughter to the sun god Helios. She met Jason and fell in love with him, offering to help him on his quest for the golden fleece, but only if he took her home as his wife. Medea is often depicted as an enchantress or sorceress - she helps Jason using magic; potions, mysterious drugs, predicting the future. She also kills her brother... and Jason kills her understandably outraged father. According to some sources they stop by her aunt Circe to be cleansed for the murders.

Medea by Evelyn De Morgan. I find this depiction rather unusual, because to just glance at the painting you would not suppose this beautiful and serene woman to be a murderous sorceress. I love the flowing lines and colours of the fabric - one of my favourite aspects of De Morgans work. 

In his play, Euripides focuses on the later part of Medea's life. Jason has abandoned her for another king's daughter - driven mad by rage she swears her revenge. This takes the form of sending a poisoned dress to Jason's new wife; resulting in the woman's and her father's deaths. Still bent on revenge, Medea also kills her two children by Jason. After their murder, she flees to Athens on a golden chariot pulled by dragons, organised by her sun god grandfather... I suppose the ancient Greek equivalent to a fancy sports car?

 Jason and Medea by John William Waterhouse. In this painting, like many, Medea seems very much in control, Jason seems a little bemused and, rightfully, rather worried. In the play, Jason is not portrayed as the manly hero he is famed for, but more a little cowardly man, scared of his ex-wife. This contrast serves to highlight Medea's power over men. 

Medea 1862 by Eugene Delacroix

Because this is Ancient Greek myth, there cannot be just one ending - there are many, and none are happy. According to some, Medea murders her children by accident, in other variants she does not kill them at all. Her deliberate murders seem to be an invention of Euripides. As well as having the opportunity to watch some tremendous acting, I was very interested in the content of the play. Because the version I saw was a modern day adaptation, a mad, scary, powerful woman did not seem too far fetched, and her actions seemed like something out of a soap opera. However, to an ancient Greek audience this would have been rather controversial, I think, and I was surprised that her actions went unpunished - she was not put in her rightful place by a man or even punished by the gods by dying horribly. The modernization did loose some context - I am rather disappointed that there was no dragon at the end, though I was consoled with it being a very bloody ending - but it was very good, and interesting to contrast between modern and ancient perceptions. If the chance arises that you are able to see any version of this play please do - it is very interesting and thoroughly enjoyable. I hope my post was of some use to anybody wishing to know a little more about the interesting Medea and I hope my choice of paintings helped.
Best Wishes