The Lady of Shalott 153 X 200 cm, 1888, Tate London
영국이 경제적, 정치적, 문화적으로 가장 번영을 누렸던 빅토리아 시대에 활동했던 John William Waterhouse(1849-1917). 이 그림은 Alfred Lord Tennyson(1809-1892)의 동명의 시를 주제로 한 석장의 연작 The Lady of Shalott 중 첫번 째 그림(1888년작)입니다. 편의상 라파엘전파의 화가로 분류되지만, 핵심적인 인물은 아니었습니다. 이태리에서 태어나 어린 시절을 그 곳에서 보낸 영향으로, 지중해의 온화함을 라파엘전파 특유의 섬세한 빅토리아시대의 낭만적 정취에 융화시켰습니다. 학창 시절 열중했던 고대 역사에 대한 풍부한 교양은 훗날 그가 즐겨 그린 신화, 종교, 문학을 주제로 한 회화의 바탕이 되었다고 하네요.
저주를 받아, 탑 속에 갇혀 양탄자를 짜면서 거울에 비친 바깥 세상만을 볼 수 있는 캐멀롯성의 lady. 말을 타고 지나가는 기사 랜슬롯에게 빠져, 거울이 아닌 창을 통해 직접 그 모습을 보게 된 그녀의 운명은 어찌 될까요?
뱃전에 두 개는 이미 꺼지고 나머지 하나도 막 꺼지려는 세 자루의 촛불과 입고 있는 하얀 드레스(당시는 상복이었다고 함)가 이 아름다운 lady의 운명을 예고하는 느낌이 들지 않습니까? 30 여 년 전 범한서적에서 낸 영미시선 '장미와 나이팅게일'의 카버 사진으로 잘 알려졌죠. 담배갑만한 사이즈의 그림에 감명받았던 생각이 납니다. 사랑에 빠져 금기를 범한 댓가로, 삶과 죽음의 경계선에 서게 된 lady의 심리적 갈등을 붓으로 표현한 이 그림은 영문학을 전공하는 교수들의 연구실에 많이 걸려 있더군요.
캐나다 가수 Loreena McKennitt가 자신의 하프 반주로 노래하는 켈틱풍의 The Lady of Shalott
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MU_Tn-HxULM&feature=related
강물에 떠내려온 보트에 시신으로 누워있는 lady를 보고, 그녀가 바로 자신을 사랑하고 그 댓가로 죽음을 받아들였다는 사실도 모른 채, "아름다운 얼굴이군. 자비로운 신이시여, 그녀에게 은총을!"하고 지나가는 말로 동정하는 기사 랜슬롯경의 무심한 한 마디가 우리 가슴을 저미게 합니다.
I am Half-sick of Shadows' said The Lady of Shalott 100 X 74 cm, 1915 , Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto
The Lady of Shalott 연작 중 세번 째 그림(1915년작)입니다. 짜고 있는 양탄자는 이미 보았던 기억이 나실겁니다. 첫 번째 그림 속의 보트에 깔려 있던 바로 그 양탄자입니다. 바깥 세상을 비추고 있는 마법의 거울도 보입니다. 사건의 진행 경과로 보아서는 이 그림이 시간상으로 앞선 것 같습니다.
Ophelia 124.4 X 73.6cm, 1894, Schaeffer Collection, Sydney
세익스피어의 희곡 Hamlet의 여주인공 Ophelia입니다. 라파엘전파의 일원인 John Everett Millais(1829-1896)의 Ophelia가 더 잘 알려져있는지도 모르겠습니다
John Everett Millais, Ophelia 76.2 X 111.8cm, 1851-2, Tate, London
실제로 보신 분들의 말로는 섬뜩할 정도로 죽음의 냄새를 느낀다는군요
John William Waterhouse, Circe Offering the Cup to Odysseus 149 X 92 cm, 1891, Oldham Art Gallery
그리이스 신화상 가장 유능한 마법사인 키르케(Circe)입니다. 오디세우스를 잡아 놓았다가 그의 청을 못 이겨 돌아가도록 놓아주죠. 전형적인 팜므 파탈의 모습입니다. 거울 속애 비친 잔뜩 겁을 먹은 오디세우스와 키르케의 마법으로 돼지로 바뀐 채 앞에 웅크리고 있는 그의 부하의 모습과는 대조적입니다.
The Lady of Shalott
Part I
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow-veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
Part II
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
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, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
Part III
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
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.
Part IV
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance -
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right -
The leaves upon her falling light -
Thro' the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd 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.
