Here's the myth as digested by Wikipedia:
In Greek mythology, Andromeda was the daughter of Cepheus and Cassiopeia, king and queen of the Phoenician kingdom Ethiopia.
Her mother Cassiopeia bragged that she was more beautiful than the Nereids, the nymph-daughters of the sea god Nereus and often seen accompanying Poseidon. To punish the Queen for her arrogance, Poseidon, brother to Zeus and God of the Sea, sent a sea monster, Cetus, to ravage the coast of Ethiopia and the kingdom of the vain Queen. The desperate King consulted the Ammon, the Oracle of Zeus, who announced that no respite would be found until the king sacrificed his virgin daughter Andromeda to the monster. She was duly chained to a rock on the coast.
Perseus, returning from having slain the Gorgon Medusa, found Andromeda and slew the monster Cetus. He set her free, and married her in spite of Andromeda having been previously promised to Phineus. At the wedding a quarrel took place between the rivals, and Phineus was turned to stone by the sight of the Gorgon's head (Ovid, Metamorphoses v. 1).
It's such a simple and iconic piece. There are many ways to visually interpret the story:

This really captures the essence of the story: There's a really pretty girl chained to a rock. She's being menaced by a terrifying sea monster and there's this guy with a sword who's going to save her. The action occurs on a rocky shoreline. Ideally the swordsman should be astride a flying horse wielding a severed head and the girl should be half naked.
It's interesting how some depictions of Andromeda focus on Theseus or the crowd, and others like this focus on the relationship between Andromeda and the monster, capturing the moment just before Theseus arrives and gets some slaughtering done.

Perseus and Andromeda, Frederic Leighton
In this a Christian influence is quite evident: Theseus rides like an angel from the bright sky to defeat the sea monster blocking Andromeda from the light of the sun with his umbrella-like wing. This isn't the gods demanding punishment for having been slighted, this is good versus evil.

Perseus and Andromeda, Paolo Veronese
I guess this is Medieval or Renaissance? What a wonderfully evil dragon-like sea monster. He reminds me of the sea monsters drawn in the fringes of old maps, sucking the dark froth of the sea into his black maw.
I like to imagine that the Pegasus-less Theseus is executing some Hong Kong wire-fu acrobatics here: He's in mid-spin and is going to end up astride the serpent, in the perfect position to stab him in the head.

Andromeda, Boris Vallejo and Julie Bell
Calling this "Andromeda" is questionable. There's no Theseus and no chains. She's not even scared. It almost looks as if the two of them are flirting or having a conversation. I guess the monster's good company.

Andromeda, Domenico Guidi
On the other hand, Andromeda here looks quite bored. The monster, not much larger than a dog, is barely able to keep her attention.

Andromeda (1869), Edward Poynter
A particularly graceful depiction by Edward Poynter, who seems to have a knack for mythical women whom I immediately fall in love with (e.g. Cave of the Storm Nymphs). Andromeda looks both very afraid (as if the monster is just out of the scene and coming towards her) and very sensual, with her eyes closed and her head and hair atoss in the wind.

Andromeda Chained to the Rock by the Nereids, Théodore Chassériau
I think this might be a detail of a larger work. Interestingly, her captors are all women (sea nymphs) as opposed to members of the local populace.

La Délivrance d'Andromède, Pierre Mignard
I really like the multitude shown here: Serpent, Pegasus, Theseus, and Andromeda are all present. The head of Medusa has seemingly been tossed casually aside by a prideful Theseus. Andromeda's parents cower and beg behind Theseus. A crowd follows, lamenting and throwing their hands in the air. I'm very curious who the woman with the cloak outstretched in her hands is - perhaps she's going to contain the head of Medusa? And why are cherubs assisting in Andromeda's imprisonment?
It's as if an entire menagerie has formed a merry parade to accompany the players to the shore.

Another that attempts to include many or all of the players in the myth. There's something vaguely Hieronymus Bosch in the multi-layered scene filled with violent or grotesque scenes: Medusa's head looks masculine in death. Pegasus bucks in panic. A group of women play and dance with what look like bloody branches of coral. Beasts and monsters swim behind them as the city looks on.

Talisman of the Constellation Andromeda, Albertus Magnus De Mineralibus, c. 1260.
There's a great cartoonish simplicity to this: the entire thing is pared down to the necessary elements: Monster, girl, hero, and all are crammed economically into one tiny little frame.
I like that Theseus is wielding a scythe and Pegasus, usually depicted as graceful and swift, is weighted down by heavy chain and plate mail.

And to bring it back home, here's Judi Bowker as Andromeda in Clash of the Titans.

This really captures the essence of the story: There's a really pretty girl chained to a rock. She's being menaced by a terrifying sea monster and there's this guy with a sword who's going to save her. The action occurs on a rocky shoreline. Ideally the swordsman should be astride a flying horse wielding a severed head and the girl should be half naked.
It's interesting how some depictions of Andromeda focus on Theseus or the crowd, and others like this focus on the relationship between Andromeda and the monster, capturing the moment just before Theseus arrives and gets some slaughtering done.

Perseus and Andromeda, Frederic Leighton
In this a Christian influence is quite evident: Theseus rides like an angel from the bright sky to defeat the sea monster blocking Andromeda from the light of the sun with his umbrella-like wing. This isn't the gods demanding punishment for having been slighted, this is good versus evil.

Perseus and Andromeda, Paolo Veronese
I guess this is Medieval or Renaissance? What a wonderfully evil dragon-like sea monster. He reminds me of the sea monsters drawn in the fringes of old maps, sucking the dark froth of the sea into his black maw.
I like to imagine that the Pegasus-less Theseus is executing some Hong Kong wire-fu acrobatics here: He's in mid-spin and is going to end up astride the serpent, in the perfect position to stab him in the head.

Andromeda, Boris Vallejo and Julie Bell
Calling this "Andromeda" is questionable. There's no Theseus and no chains. She's not even scared. It almost looks as if the two of them are flirting or having a conversation. I guess the monster's good company.

Andromeda, Domenico Guidi
On the other hand, Andromeda here looks quite bored. The monster, not much larger than a dog, is barely able to keep her attention.

Andromeda (1869), Edward Poynter
A particularly graceful depiction by Edward Poynter, who seems to have a knack for mythical women whom I immediately fall in love with (e.g. Cave of the Storm Nymphs). Andromeda looks both very afraid (as if the monster is just out of the scene and coming towards her) and very sensual, with her eyes closed and her head and hair atoss in the wind.

Andromeda Chained to the Rock by the Nereids, Théodore Chassériau
I think this might be a detail of a larger work. Interestingly, her captors are all women (sea nymphs) as opposed to members of the local populace.

La Délivrance d'Andromède, Pierre Mignard
I really like the multitude shown here: Serpent, Pegasus, Theseus, and Andromeda are all present. The head of Medusa has seemingly been tossed casually aside by a prideful Theseus. Andromeda's parents cower and beg behind Theseus. A crowd follows, lamenting and throwing their hands in the air. I'm very curious who the woman with the cloak outstretched in her hands is - perhaps she's going to contain the head of Medusa? And why are cherubs assisting in Andromeda's imprisonment?
It's as if an entire menagerie has formed a merry parade to accompany the players to the shore.

Another that attempts to include many or all of the players in the myth. There's something vaguely Hieronymus Bosch in the multi-layered scene filled with violent or grotesque scenes: Medusa's head looks masculine in death. Pegasus bucks in panic. A group of women play and dance with what look like bloody branches of coral. Beasts and monsters swim behind them as the city looks on.

Talisman of the Constellation Andromeda, Albertus Magnus De Mineralibus, c. 1260.
There's a great cartoonish simplicity to this: the entire thing is pared down to the necessary elements: Monster, girl, hero, and all are crammed economically into one tiny little frame.
I like that Theseus is wielding a scythe and Pegasus, usually depicted as graceful and swift, is weighted down by heavy chain and plate mail.

And to bring it back home, here's Judi Bowker as Andromeda in Clash of the Titans.

2 comments:
This would be a fucking great essay if it had accurate dates and artists names for each of the pieces. Seriously, you should do this. Or find someone who likes doing history research to find all the archival info, because the subject has serious merit.
Some of those Andromedas look just a little TOO pretty and sensuous. I'm guessing that whenever an artist or his client had a hankering for some chicks in chains, "Andromeda" was the excuse for the resulting artwork.
By the way, on the Vallejo/Bell artwork, her ankle is clearly chained, and there's a gold band on her wrist which is behind her back much like the one that secures her ankle to the chain. So I'm betting she's properly chained. You're right about the lack of fear, it's like they're saying, "So, what do you think about going to Starbucks tonight?"
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