Hylas and the Nymphs

The story of Hylas and the Nymphs

A young man in a blue tunic kneels at the edge of a pond to fill a jug, and seven pale, identical women have surfaced among the lilies to take his hand. One already has his wrist. Waterhouse painted it in 1896, taking the story from the Argonauts, and it belongs to Manchester Art Gallery, where in 2018 it was briefly taken down and put back after an argument that made the news. It is the painting where the Pre-Raphaelite fascination with water and women turns quietly sinister.

On a wall, this is a dark, cool image with pale figures glowing out of it. The dominant colors are black-green water, moss, dark reeds, and the white and rose of the nymphs' skin, with Hylas's orange-red cloak as the only warm note. It suits a bathroom, a bedroom, a powder room, or a moody reading corner, and it fits Victorian, gothic-leaning, botanical, and dark-walled interiors. Our source image supports the Mini at 8 × 8 in, which suits it: this is a print for a close wall, a shelf, or a tight grouping with other Waterhouse and Pre-Raphaelite pieces, where you can lean in and count the faces.

Waterhouse's Echo and Narcissus is the same pool seven years later with the roles reversed, and A Mermaid is his other woman at the water's edge. Bouguereau's Nymphs and Satyr is the same abduction played as a comedy. More from John William Waterhouse.

Printed in our studio from a public-domain photograph of the Manchester canvas; the source image is square-cropped, so the print shows the central pond and figures.