A Goddess, a Mortal, and a Painter

Once upon a time there was a goddess named Diana. Diana's interests included hunting, bathing in the woods, and preserving her virginity. One can immediately see the conflict of interest between the last two hobbies, but then who are we to question the gods?

One day, while Diana was pursuing her second interest (with the help of her ladies in waiting), a young lout named Acteon, also an avid hunter, came strolling through the woods, having separated himself from his hunting party. As he walked through the trees looking for his pals, his dogs, and his quarry, he happened to happen upon Diana who was taking her bath. Like any red-blooded young Roman mortal, he decided to take a peak and stare at this beautiful creature, not caring about the fact that even Roman gods and goddesses like a little privacy (we mortals are notorious for seeing things we shouldn't and then acting stupidly).

Unfortunately for Acteon, Diana saw him seeing her and decided to turn him into a stag whereupon Acteon was chased, hunted down, and killed by his own dogs.

Much much later, centuries after this story had first been told, another mortal (who was not Roman, but Dutch) by the name of Vermeer either liked this story so much, or had a patron who liked this story so much, that he decided to paint it. This painting was among his earliest, and while beautiful, was nowhere near as beautiful and not at all similar to the thirty or so other paintings he would go on to create. Most of his later paintings would seem much more mundane than this subject, for they were mostly domestic scenes of women sitting at windows reading letters, writing letters, weighing jewels, or playing musical instruments. Yet the silence and light in these paintings were so strong that they struck a nerve with countless viewers.

Nevertheless this masterful early attempt at painting an historical mythical subject gave some indication as to what was going to come:
-It acknowledges the viewer. Even though it is chaste (Diana's only getting a foot bath), it hints at a voyeurism (and therefore, a kind of implied eroticism) that implicates anyone who views the painting (the artist paints the work from the perspective of Acteon). This is an unnerving quality in many of Vermeer's later works where the subject is actually returning your stare, sometimes surprised, as if you have just startled them. At other times they glance at you serenely. Vermeer's most famous subject, his pearl earringed girl holds your gaze - you don't know if she's turning toward or away from you. She's held eternally at that midway point and she eternally commands our attention.
-It contains symbolic imagery to help tell the story. Diana is quickly identified (if you know your mythology) by the crescent moon tiara. But the more interesting symbol is that of her hound, which foreshadows the fact that in a matter of a few minutes, Acteon is going to be dog meat.
-Light is as important a player as any of the subjects in the work. This will not be immediatedly noticeable in the first picture I show here:
This is how I had always seen the painting in the art books; it never really jumped out at me. It's an early Vermeer, it's a bit formal, and it doesn't seem to convey any real emotion. But when I went to New York a few years ago to see an exhibition of 16 of Vermeer's paintings, I discovered the following: Part of "Diana and Her Companions" (as the painting is known) had been painted over by some former owner who believed the painting was too dark (Both in tone and subject? One wonders). At some point an unknown person decided to improve upon the work of one the the greatest painters ever to have lived by adding that cloudy blue sky in the upper-right-hand corner of the painting. Seen in this way, the painting loses much of its dramatic power. Luckily, the add-on was discovered during restoration and the work was restored to reflect Vermeer's original vision of the scene:

When I saw this painting at the Met, I was amazed to see what a difference it made removing that patch of blue sky. Now the painting seemed more sinister, more emotionally dark. Now, the light source shining on Diana and her companions was much more interesting to me and the shadowy attendant standing in the back now receded into the darkness and became somewhat goulish. To use a rather nerdy analogy that perhaps Kristin will best appreciate, it was like jumping immediately from year one to year four at Hogwarts. The painting now seemed more sinister, menacing.

Anyway, that's all I have to say about art for the moment. If you have some other ideas about these two versions of the same painting, post 'em here (the second picture of the restored version, by the way, is cropped in its online form, which is why you can only see the nose of the dog). Also, I think I had read something about that thistle growing in front of the dog. It must symbolize something - any ideas?