‘I am half sick of shadows,’ said The Lady of Shalott, oil on canvas, roughly 40 x 29 inches (100 x 74 cm). Link is to image on Britannica.com. The original is in the Art Gallery of Ontario, Canada.

John William Waterhouse, a late 19th century English painter often associated with the Pre-Raphaelites who preceded him, is known in particular for his incredibly beautiful painting of the Lady Of Shalott floating downstream, in which she is depicted in an attempt to get to Camelot after triggering the curse she was under.

Waterhouse also painted another, less well known depiction of the literary figure from Tennyson’s poem, in a setting more like that of William Holman Hunt’s painting, as mentioned in my previous post, Holman Hunt’s The Lady of Shalott.

Waterhouse similarly shows the lady at work on her loom (though quite different from Holman Hunt’s depiction), with her mirror reflecting the outside world, in this case, apparently within sight of Camelot, prior to her doomed attempt to reach it in search of Lancelot.

But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror’s magic sights,
For often thro’ the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, came from Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead
Came two young lovers lately wed;
‘I am half sick of shadows,’ said
The Lady of Shalott.

I love comparing different artists’ takes on the same scene or subject.

The Lady of Shalott, William Holman Hunt, oil on canvas, roughly 74 x 58 inches ( 188 x 146 cm), in the collection of the Wadsworth Atheneum, in Hartford, CT. Link is to image file page on Wikipedia.

In Alfred Tennyson’s early 19th century poem of the same name, in a reference to the Arthurian legend, The Lady of Shalott is a young noblewoman who is cursed to remain in a tower on the Island of Shalott, in the River Cam near Camelot.

She is further cursed to conduct her brilliant art of tapestry weaving without even looking out of the window, viewing the outside world only in its reflection in a mirror.

She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

She creates her own fate when handsome, gallant Lancelot rides by and spies her in the tower. He thinks she is beautiful.

“Who is this? And what is here?”
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, “She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott.”

Struck by his appearance, she turns and looks at him directly through the window – triggering the curse.

Out flew the web and floated wide—
The mirror crack’d from side to side;
“The curse is come upon me,” cried
The Lady of Shalott.

She tries to reach Camelot by boat (as illustrated in what may be John William Waterhouse’s most famous painting); a storm arises and she is drowned.

The reason for her curse is not given, but it has been suggested that her situation may be an allegory for the restricted lives of women in Medieval times, even those of the privileged classes.

The 19th century English Pre-Raphaelite painters and their heirs, many of whose paintings had literary themes, were particularly attracted to this story.

Here, William Holman Hunt, one of the most prominent of the original group, shows the lady at her task, surrounded by floating threads, her circular loom and skeins of yarn. In the mirror behind her, we see out the window and Lancelot riding by.

As in most of Holman Hunt’s paintings, the attention to detail is remarkable, as is his use of intensely vibrant colors, all without losing the harmony and naturalism of the scene.

There is a smaller version of this painting, with some differences, in the Manchester Art Gallery in England.

There is a Wikipedia page devoted to the large painting.

In the Woods, Francis Hopkinson Smith, watercolor and gouache on board, roughly 26 x 16″ ( 67 x 41 cm); in the collection of the Brooklyn Museum.

Smith was an American painter, author and engineer, whose accomplishments included the design and engineering for the base of the Statue of Liberty in New York Harbor.

In this 1877 painting he does an intimate study of two trees, one large, textural and dotted with fungus, the other a sapling with lacy foliage. I love how lightly suggested the background of the forest appears.