Symbolism In Ariadne

More common than the theme of Ariadne’s abandonment, however, is what has been called the “strangely sociable” depiction of Ariadne at the moment of desertion, accompanied by one or more winged figures, often with one weeping and a second pointing to the receding ship, as Sheila McNally explains in Sleeping Ariadne. As Jàs Elsner assesses in Roman Eyes, “the privacy and desolation of the moment is staged as a group with the pointing figure making visually explicit Ariadne’s gaze at the ship while the lamenting Eros externalizes her state of mind and tears,” as seen in the first century CE fresco from Pompeii (IX.5.11). The fact that in many of the extant examples the weeping Eros covers his eyes only heightens the scheme’s emphasis on gazes and visual emotion. Clearly, here is a play of desire defeated and desire fulfilled. In each case the lovers are separated by water with the female gazing out at the male in action who sails away from her. As Elsner explains, “gaze (different characters’ gazing, the different potential objects upon which the gaze may be focalized, the self-consciousness of representing the gaze itself being gazed at) is a central weapon in the visual mythographers’ pictorial argument. In the case of Campanian wall paintings of Ariadne, this weapon was used to show women’s dependence on men and their vulnerability and maudlinism.
The Greek theme of women suffering at the hands of men continues with the myth of Iphigenia. In the most famous incident of sacrifice of a young person, a prophet tells Agamemnon that in order to cease the wrath of Artemis so that he may sail to Troy, he must appease her by sacrificing one of his daughters, Iphigenia. This story is told by the playwright Aeschylus in his drama...

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...ce. Her head is covered by a veil, adorned with flowers, with knotted strands hang down either side of her neck. As for her body, it differs from those of the mythological women in its fullness; it better resembles that of a mother. A large tunic fully covers her skin. The maturity and fruitfulness of the depicted Livia conveys a greater sense of importance and respect for the empress. However, as Glenys Davies critiques in “Portrait Statues as Models for Gender Roles in Roman Society,” the messages conveyed by these art mediums are subtle and seductive: “they suggest that a woman who conforms will be rewarded—not only by fine clothes and access to hairstylists but also by commemoration in a marble portrait. But by various means they also make clear that conforming means not behaving like a man, not aspiring to male roles, and knowing what a woman’s place is.”