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Introduction
Evelyn De Morgan’s Cadmus and Harmonia (1877) is a striking early work that heralds the artist’s lifelong fascination with classical mythology, moral allegory, and luminous Pre‑Raphaelite technique. Towering over six feet in height, the painting depicts the tragic figures of Cadmus and Harmonia—founders of ancient Thebes—at the moment when they are transformed into entwined serpents, forever bound together in their sorrow and destiny. Set against a rugged landscape of rocky cliffs and placid water, the nude couple stands at the water’s edge, their human sorrow giving way to a new, eternal form. A great serpent coils around them both, symbolizing the curse that followed them. Through delicate modeling of flesh, masterful handling of drapery, and a carefully balanced composition, De Morgan creates an image of mythic pathos that resonates with Victorian concerns about fate, redemption, and the interplay of love and suffering.
Historical and Artistic Context
Evelyn De Morgan painted Cadmus and Harmonia at the age of twenty‑two, after completing her studies at the Slade School and under the influence of the Pre‑Raphaelite Brotherhood. The mid‑ to late‑1870s in Britain saw a revival of interest in classical themes, driven in part by archaeological discoveries at Mycenae and Troy and by scholarly translations of ancient texts. Artists and writers sought to reinterpret these myths in a Victorian moral framework, using them as vehicles to explore timeless questions of virtue, temptation, and divine justice.
De Morgan’s early work exhibits clear debts to Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Edward Burne‑Jones—evident in the ethereal beauty of her figures and the jewel‑like coloration of her palette—while also showing her unique commitment to spiritual and feminist ideals. As a lifelong Theosophist and social reformer, De Morgan believed in art’s power to convey moral truth and to uplift the viewer’s spirit. In choosing the story of Cadmus and Harmonia—figures cursed to suffer for the sins of their ancestors—she addressed the themes of inherited guilt, transformative suffering, and the redemptive power of love, all concerns that resonated deeply in Victorian society.
Mythological Narrative
Cadmus and Harmonia are central figures in Greek legend. Cadmus, a Phoenician prince, founded the city of Thebes after following a divine cow to the site that would become its acropolis. Harmonia, daughter of Ares and Aphrodite, was given to Cadmus as his bride. On their wedding day, Harmonia received a cursed necklace crafted by Hephaestus, which brought misfortune and bloodshed to all who possessed it. Over time, murder, exile, and familial discord plagued their line. In some versions of the myth, the couple, fatigued by endless tragedy, prayed to the gods for release and were transformed into serpents, thus uniting them eternally and lifting them above mortal suffering.
De Morgan’s painting focuses on that climactic moment of metamorphosis. By portraying Cadmus and Harmonia nude and at the brink of transformation, De Morgan underscores their vulnerability and the raw poignancy of divine intervention. The serpent that coils around them is both harbinger of doom and instrument of salvation, enacting the paradox of the curse that frees them only through irrevocable change.
Composition and Spatial Arrangement
Cadmus and Harmonia is composed on a tall, narrow canvas that emphasizes the vertical ascent of the figures and the looming presence of the serpent. The couple stands at the lower third of the painting, grounding the viewer’s gaze before guiding it upward along their intertwined forms. Cadmus, on the left, clasps Harmonia’s arm; Harmonia leans into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Their bodies form an S‑curve that flows seamlessly into the serpent’s sinuous coil, uniting human and reptilian forms.
Behind them, a rocky promontory juts into calm water, creating a V‑shape that echoes their central positioning. The sky above transitions from a warm, golden horizon to a cool, pale blue, suggesting the threshold between day and night, life and afterlife. Although the landscape is minimal, every element—the distant cliff, the mirrored water—reinforces the painting’s theme of transformation: solid earth giving way to fluid metamorphosis, human mortality giving way to eternal union.
Color and Light
De Morgan’s color palette in Cadmus and Harmonia is both restrained and deeply evocative. The figures’ flesh is painted in warm, ivory tones, softly modeled to convey youthful vitality even as their expressions convey weariness. Subtle washes of pink and peach enliven the cheeks, shoulders, and knees, creating a delicate play of light and reflection. The serpent’s scales, by contrast, are rendered in deep, iridescent greens and browns, their metallic sheen achieved through careful layering of glazes.
The background’s rocky cliffs feature muted earth tones—umber, sienna, and ochre—balanced by the water’s pale greenish‑blue reflections. The sky’s gentle gradation from gold near the horizon to silvery blue above suggests a liminal moment, perhaps dawn or dusk, reinforcing the painting’s theme of threshold. De Morgan’s mastery of light lies in her ability to unify these varied tones: the golden glow of sky suffuses the figures, the water reflects the serpent’s coil, and the cliffs bear the subtle shadows cast by both.
Figure Modeling and Anatomy
From the first brushstroke, De Morgan demonstrates her thorough command of human anatomy. Cadmus’s muscular torso—lean and defined—conveys strength and princely bearing even as the futility of mortal power weighs upon him. Harmonia’s softer, more rounded form evokes classical ideals of feminine beauty, her limbs arranged in a gentle contrapposto that speaks of both repose and grief.
De Morgan’s use of chiaroscuro—gentle transitions from light to shadow—gives the figures three‑dimensional presence without sacrificing the linear clarity prized by Pre‑Raphaelites. Her brushwork is virtually invisible on the skin, allowing the surfaces to glow with an inner luminosity. In contrast, the serpent’s scales exhibit visible brushstrokes, enhancing their textured realism and emphasizing the creature’s alien otherness.
Emotional and Psychological Undertones
While the painting’s mythic subject provides narrative structure, its emotional impact rests on the figures’ expressions and gestures. Cadmus’s face, turned slightly toward the viewer, exhibits a complex sorrow: resignation tempered with fierce loyalty to his bride. His eyes, shadowed by inner turmoil, speak of the weight of prophecy unheeded and the burden of leadership undermined by a cursed destiny.
Harmonia’s downward glance and gentle tilt of the head communicate profound empathy and vulnerability. Her loose red hair drapes across her back, suggesting both the abandon of tragedy and the sacredness of feminine sacrifice. Their joined hands—Cadmus’s strong grip on Harmonia’s wrist, Harmonia’s delicate touch on Cadmus’s forearm—symbolize their mutual support and the inescapable bond forged by shared suffering.
Symbolism and Allegory
Every element in Cadmus and Harmonia operates on multiple symbolic levels. The serpent, central to the composition, embodies both curse and deliverance. Its coils around the couple mirror the necklace of Harmonia, whose gift‑turned‑curse precipitated the tragic downfall of their lineage. At the moment of transformation, however, the same serpent liberates them from mortal grief, elevating them to a timeless, immortal state.
The nude figures, stripped of royal robes and mortal trappings, represent the universal human condition: exposed to divine forces and subject to the whims of fate. The rocky landscape, barren yet enduring, suggests the firmness of the earth contrasted with the fluidity of human destiny. Water, often symbolic of purification and rebirth, reflects the couple’s entwined forms, hinting at the cleansing nature of their metamorphosis.
Technical Mastery and Brushwork
Evelyn De Morgan painted Cadmus and Harmonia with a meticulous technique that balances precision with painterly warmth. She began with a finely drawn underlayer, establishing exact proportions and delicate contours. Over this, she applied thin oil glazes, gradually building color depth and soft shadows. The subtle gradations of tone on the skin indicate her restraint in using white pigment—she preferred to mix flesh tones with warm and cool hues rather than rely on pure white.
The serpent’s scales received a different treatment: De Morgan used small, overlapping strokes and occasional impasto highlights to simulate the reflective quality of reptilian skin. The rocks and water, though painted with gentler strokes, reveal her ability to suggest texture—craggy surfaces, smooth reflections—within a unified tonality. Her brush is virtually invisible on human flesh yet delightfully palpable in the serpent and landscape, demonstrating her nuanced control over material effects.
Moral and Philosophical Dimensions
At its heart, Cadmus and Harmonia examines the paradox of fate and free will. The couple’s aristocratic origins and heroic deeds cannot forestall the curse placed upon them at their wedding. Their metamorphosis into serpents represents both punishment and liberation: punishment for inherited guilt, liberation from endless cycles of suffering. De Morgan invites viewers to ponder the ethics of ancestral sin and the possibility of redemption through transformation.
In the context of Victorian moral discourse, the painting resonates with contemporary concerns about inherited social ills—poverty, disease, moral corruption—and the quest for reform. Cadmus and Harmonia’s plight mirrors the predicament of individuals born into unjust circumstances, who yearn for deliverance yet struggle against forces beyond their control. Their ultimate union in serpent form suggests hope: that unity of purpose and shared sacrifice can transcend even the most intractable curses.
Reception and Influence
When exhibited in the late 1870s, Cadmus and Harmonia impressed critics with its ambitious scale and classical resonance. Although some reviewers found De Morgan’s early style overly earnest or derivative of Pre‑Raphaelite mannerisms, many praised the painting’s emotional power and technical skill. Over ensuing decades, the work became a touchstone for discussions of myth in Victorian art.
In modern times, De Morgan’s early mythological paintings have been rediscovered as seminal contributions to the Pre‑Raphaelite and Symbolist movements. Cadmus and Harmonia, in particular, has been recognized for its synthesis of narrative depth and painterly innovation. Contemporary feminist scholars also point to the painting as an early instance of a woman artist reclaiming patriarchal myths, transforming them into allegories of shared human experience rather than male conquest.
Conclusion
Evelyn De Morgan’s Cadmus and Harmonia remains a luminous testament to the power of myth, art, and moral inquiry. Through her masterful composition, nuanced color, and profound symbolism, De Morgan breathes new life into the ancient tale of the founders of Thebes. The painting’s central drama—the couple’s wrenching metamorphosis into serpents—captures the paradox of suffering that liberates, of curses that heal, and of love that endures beyond mortal constraints. Over a century after its creation, Cadmus and Harmonia continues to resonate, inviting viewers to contemplate the intertwined forces of fate, guilt, and redemption that shape every human life.