Lately, I’ve been thinking about what to do now that I’ve started my postgraduate program in Art History. To nurture both my academic and professional path, I’ve been volunteering at local art galleries and cultural centres, a way to blend my passion for art with my graphic design skills. But I know myself better than anyone else (obviously): I’m always hungry for more. So, I’ve decided to start this blog, a cozy, safe space to share everything I’m learning along this beautiful journey through art history. During my design degree, I tried to build online stores and other projects where I could post regularly, but I’ve realized I don’t have that entrepreneurial blood in my veins. A blog feels different — slower, more reflective, and free from that constant pressure to produce and consume. Here, I hope to make friends, learn to write more thoughtfully, and share ideas with the world.
Disclaimer: if you ever notice any inaccuracies or missing information, please let me know! I love learning through my mistakes and revisiting what I might have overlooked.
I confess I’m not a big Taylor Swift fan, but some of her songs have a tremendous power over me, especially the ones from the Folklore and Evermore era. They carry this ethereal melancholy that always draws me in. And now, her new hit — “The Fate of Ophelia.” It’s funny, really, because just a few days before the song was released, I happened to be reading about John Everett Millais’s painting Ophelia. Maybe it was coincidence, maybe not, but something about that overlap felt meaningful. So, I decided to write about it.
Study for the head of Elizabeth Siddal 1852
© Birmingham Museums and Art Gallery (https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/millais-ophelia-n01506/story-ophelia)
Ophelia (1851–52) is a painting by the British artist Sir John Everett Millais, now part of the Tate Britain collection in London. It captures the tragic moment when Shakespeare’s Ophelia, surrounded by the wild poetry of nature, sings just before surrendering herself to the water. When it was first exhibited at the Royal Academy, the painting received a rather mixed response. Viewers weren’t sure what to make of its vivid realism and almost unsettling stillness.
Ophelia is one of the most tragic and haunting figures in Hamlet. After her father, Polonius, is killed by the man she loves, she slowly descends into madness. She dies young, consumed by grief and sorrow, a fragile figure caught between life and death.
Read: Hamlet, Act 1V, Scene V11
Hamlet, Act 1V, Scene V11
Laertes: Drowned! O, where?
Queen Gertrude: There is a willow grows askant the brook,
That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream.
Therewith fantastic garlands did she make
Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples
That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,
But our cold maids do dead-men’s-fingers call them.
There on the pendent boughs her crownet weeds
Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke,
When down her weedy trophies and herself
Fell in the weeping brook. Her clothes spread wide,
And mermaid-like awhile they bore her up;
Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes,
As one incapable of her own distress,
Or like a creature native and indued
Unto that element. But long it could not be
Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,
Pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay
To muddy death.
Laertes: Alas, then she is drowned?
Queen Gertrude: Drowned, drowned
Millais’s Ophelia is one of the defining works of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, a group of artists who wanted to bring intense detail, bright colors, and emotional honesty back to painting. His careful observation of nature, from the flowers floating in the river to the texture of her dress was revolutionary at the time and set a new standard for realism. Beyond technique, the painting helped cement Ophelia as an enduring symbol of tragic femininity, inspiring countless later artists, from John William Waterhouse to Salvador Dalí, to revisit her story in their own ways.
The Model: Elizabeth Siddal
A poet, painter, and Pre-Raphaelite muse who would later marry Dante Gabriel Rossetti, modeled for Ophelia at just 19. To achieve realism, she posed in a full bathtub in Millais’s London studio, wearing an antique silver dress, while he spent the winter months painting her after devoting spring and summer to the landscape. Keeping the water warm required lamps under the tub, but on one occasion they went out. Siddal never broke her pose, though she caught a severe cold that may have turned into pneumonia. Millais paid her medical bills, roughly £50 at the time, about £7,000 today. Tragically, poor health plagued Siddal for the rest of her life. Ophelia would come to feel, in the public imagination, like a reflection of her own story. In 1862, after the stillbirth of a daughter, Siddal died from a laudanum overdose at age 32, the poppies in Millais’s painting gaining a sorrowful new resonance.
The painting has been widely referred around the world!
Reflections: Art Across Time
This is by far not the most complete or finished curatorial work of my career, but I feel happy, it’s a jumpstart, my first blog post ever. I will definitely keep reading more about Ophelia, learning about her impact on today’s society, and keeping my inspiration flame alive. (and of course, improving my storytelling, writing skills, and all that jazz!).
I feel that there is something almost magical in how stories travel across centuries. Millais captured Ophelia in 1852, yet her image continues to resonate today in different aspects and areas of the modern life, in ways he could never have imagined. The fragility, beauty, and quiet despair of both Ophelia and Elizabeth Siddal echo in modern art and music, reminding us how deeply human these emotions are.
Taylor Swift’s The Fate of Ophelia brought her back into my own world, a reminder that old stories can find new voices. As I mentioned before, I don’t consider myself a huge fan of her music, yet the song’s melancholy and delicate storytelling struck a chord, bridging literature, painting, and music in one fleeting moment.
Ophelia and Siddal, separated by time yet linked through art, show us how beauty and tragedy often walk hand in hand. They invite us to pause, to reflect, and to see the humanity in every brushstroke, every lyric, every story waiting to be retold.
References & Further Reading
- Tate Britain, Ophelia by Sir John Everett Millais – https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/millais-ophelia-n01506
- Art Net, Decoding ‘Ophelia,’ the Mesmerizing Painting That Epitomized Pre-Raphaelite Beauty – https://news.artnet.com/art-world/john-everett-millais-ophelia-3-facts-1912391
- The Eclectic Light Company, Work in Progress: John Everett Millais ‘Ophelia’ – https://eclecticlight.co/2019/08/01/work-in-progress-john-everett-millais-ophelia/
- Tate Britain, The Story of Ophelia – https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/millais-ophelia-n01506/story-ophelia