#pre-raphaelites

[sapphic yearning intensifies]

This design reminds me of several paintings of this genre at once:

Evelyn De Morgan, The Dryad, 1885, detail

Evelyn De Morgan’s painting “The Dryad”, painted in 1885, is a richly symbolic painting that combines mythology, femininity and nature into a deeply introspective image. De Morgan found inspiration in the Greek mythological figure of a dryad; the forest nymphs who lives in trees or forest groves. Their life was tied to the life of the tree with which they were associated with. When the tree would die, from old age or from human hand, the dryad would perish too. In De Morgan’s vision the dryad is depicted as a tender, wistful, soft young woman. There is vulnerability in her eyes and in her pose, in the way her arms are crossed over her bosom, as if she is hiding herself, protecting herself from someone’s gaze, someone’s hand. De Morgan chose to emphasise the psychological depth over a narrative action and this is typical for De Morgan’s paintings which often feature a central female figure through which a mythological tale or an allegory is portrayed. In “The Dryad”, the figure of the dryad is entwined with the tree trunk, and her left leg is still partly emerging from the tree trunk. The curves of her body follow the natural curve of the tree and in this way De Morgan is blurring the boundary between what is human and what belongs to nature. The dryad is at the threshold and this merging reflects the mythological belief that dryads are spiritually bound to trees, but it also suggests a Pre-Raphaelite fascination with the unity between the natural world and the feminine beauty. The tree also feels protective, its branches surrounding and embracing the fragile dryad like a sheltering, fatherly embrace. The tree is at once a shelter and a trap, a cage, because the dryad leg is tied to the tree. The dryad is frozen in this pose and we are not sure will she be able to escape, or does she even want to escape. This detail brings a tension under the surface of natural, feminine harmony. The dryad is both sustained and trapped by her connection to nature.

Evelyn De Morgan, The Dryad, 1885

The manner in which her body is painted is typical for De Morgan’s style; all of her female figures look pretty much the same in body. Her treatment of the female body is delicate and idealised, but very often emotionally restrained. Perhaps it was the Victorian sense of restraint seeping through. As I have pointed out in the very beginning, something that instantly strikes me when I look at the painting is the pose; the dryad’s crossed arms partially conceal her chest, creating a gesture of modesty or self-protection. Her downward gaze avoids direct contact with the viewer, giving the painting a mood of melancholy introspection rather than seduction. Unlike many nineteenth-century depictions of mythological women, this figure does not appear overtly eroticized for the male gaze. She is not a seductive femme fatale at all. Instead, she seems withdrawn into her own emotional world, coy and virginal, pure and shy. This psychological sensitivity is one of De Morgan’s defining qualities as an artist.

The colour palette reinforces the painting’s dreamlike atmosphere. Soft greens, earthy browns, muted pinks, and pale skin tones create harmony between the figure and her environment. In this fifty-shades-of-brown colour palette even the dryad’s eyes and hair are the similar warm brown tone as the tree trunk, further emphasising her connection to the tree. The drapery wrapped around the dryad resembles leaves, further integrating her into the landscape. The sea in the distant background introduces stillness and spatial depth, while also symbolizing emotional vastness and isolation. De Morgan often used symbolic landscapes to mirror inner emotional states, and here the calm horizon contrasts with the dryad’s quiet emotional tension. The painting also reflects broader themes associated with the Pre-Raphaelite movement. Like artists such as Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Edward Burne-Jones, De Morgan was interested in medievalism, mythology, spirituality and highly detailed natural forms. However, her work differs in its subtle feminist perspective. As a woman artist working in Victorian England, De Morgan frequently painted female figures with emotional complexity and inner life rather than reducing them to decorative symbols. In “The Dryad”, the woman is not merely an object within nature; she embodies nature itself, possessing a quiet spiritual authority.

The symbolism of the dryad can also be interpreted psychologically. Because the figure is inseparable from the tree, the painting suggests themes of dependence, rootedness, and vulnerability. Trees often symbolize life, endurance, and growth, but here the connection feels fragile. The dryad’s expression carries sadness or longing, perhaps hinting at mortality and the precarious balance between humanity and the natural world. In Greek mythology, when a dryad’s tree dies, the dryad dies as well. This underlying awareness of impermanence gives the painting emotional weight beneath its serene beauty. There is also a tension between freedom and immobility. The figure appears physically intertwined with the tree, unable to move away from it. Her pose is graceful but static, almost sculptural. This may reflect Victorian ideas about women’s social roles; idealised, beautiful, and spiritually elevated, yet constrained, wistful, defeated. De Morgan subtly transforms mythological imagery into a meditation on emotional and social confinement.

Reflections in Light — A Serenity Script Series There is a kind of beauty that doesn’t shout — it lingers, glowing quietly like morning light through stained glass.That’s what I’ve always felt in the paintings of the Pre-Raphaelites — Millais, Rossetti, Hunt — artists who sought not perfection, but truth wrapped in tenderness. Their art is rich in symbolism: lilies for purity, flowing hair for…

The Pre-Raphaelites used many different classic references. One of the subjects that multiple artists in the movement referenced in their art was the play Hamlet. Lizzy Siddle posed as a model for one of the most famous works of the PRB.

Often times the modeling for RPB was pretty uneventful but that wasn't the case for Sir John Everett Millais' Ophelia which nearly killed it's model Lizzy Siddle. Siddle was in old water for hours and this lead her body to go into shock and she almost drowned. Sadly Siddle died not lone after from an overdose and this devastating her husband so much he put all the poetry he had written in her grave and it was buried with her. Years later Rossetti retrieved the poetry from her grave and published it.

I feel like in the lyrics of "The Fate of Ophelia" Taylor is referencing Rossetti literally saving his poetry from the grave as an analog to her getting her masters back.

Similar to the "I Can See You" video Taylor's work is getting rescued from the grave. The line about purgatory reinforces. Like "Taylor Verison" of Fearless cover Taylor is the one that saves herself and her art.