Human stories are often hidden deep within the ocean’s rhythmic tides and yawning abysses. Beneath its seemingly calm surface lies a reservoir of movement, memory, and power—an apt avatar for the turbulent intricacies of the human experience. It reflects the essence of femininity as tender and maternal, ever-changing yet timeless, shaped by cycles of societal and biological rhythm. Like femininity, the ocean moves with docile fluidity yet can erupt with violence, embodying both surrender and resistance. This push and pull mimics the ocean’s eternal back-and-forth with the moon, its nightly progression across the sea forging an emotional and spiritual connection between humans and nature’s most enigmatic forces. The moon’s light illuminates both a lover’s embrace and a ship flying across the waves, blurring the boundaries of sea and sky as it dances across the starstruck waters. Gliding across the waves, it’s easy to imagine fingers reaching for the sky and swooping seagulls weaving through the foaming froth. In this context, flight becomes more than physical: it represents the human will to transcend and rise emotionally and spiritually above hardship. Yet the sky is only half of this ethereal equation, and piercing through the veil of the waves reveals a hidden world sheltered within. The sea is absolutely littered with echoes; each snapshot and painting evoking a cascade of shrouded stories. This exhibition traces those undercurrents, using the ocean and moon as metaphors for the evolving journey of humanity through the lens of flight, maritime history, and the tides of femininity.
The pieces in this exhibit are located in museums and galleries across the world. Click an icon to see where each piece lives!
Robert Frank, Untitled, gelatin silver print, 1958, 22 × 34.3 cm, Johnson Museum of Art.
Steeped in the soft glow of a dream, a whimsical scene unfolds as it evokes poignant emotions of bittersweet nostalgia and childhood memories. The main figures in this print are a mother with four children running around her, holding sparklers. Their bare feet leave delicate imprints littered across the sand, the texture evidence of their uninhibited movement and delight. Around them, the ocean rests in calm stillness, as if pausing to witness this intimate familial moment. The slightly blurred lines create an aged effect and allude to the uncertain retrospective element of a memory. Furthermore, the grainy quality and dim lighting suggest that the moment is being re-lived rather than witnessed. The eye is drawn to bright white sparklers in each child’s hand and the mother who lovingly walks towards them. Here, the ocean is cast as a maternal womb, and this print reinforces that maternity through its arrangement of figures. The woman symbolizes the emotional landscape of motherhood as watchful and silently powerful. Much like Johan Christian Dahl’s Mother and Child, where maternal protection is also cast, Robert Frank’s image reveals this protectiveness. The setting, a tranquil but transient space, contrasts the fleetingness of childhood with the steadiness of her presence. Frank's works are often characterized by capturing people in the throes of daily life. As Frank explained, “There is one thing the photograph must contain, the humanity of the moment".
Davies’ most distinctive works are the dreamlike, fantasy visions of female nudes standing in landscapes. These subjects possess a distinctly classical flavor and have literary and mythological allusions. His works have a strong affinity with symbolism, often compared to French artists. In Sea Maidens, their bodies move like water, limbs interwoven and hair flowing. These feminine forms merge seamlessly as the women drift together along the beach. Their buoyant movements echo the waves behind them, implying a deep, intuitive bond between them and the natural world. These feminine figures resemble sirens or sea nymphs, symbols of sensuality and transformation. The maidens’ forms resist rigid outlines, which expresses the fluid and expansive nature of feminine identity. The women are free of clothing and other constraints as they dance together in a state of collective joy and physical liberation. The etching is in black and white and emphasizes their movement and gestures. The use of delicate, textured paper, worn and ridge-like, enhances the ethereal, timeless atmosphere of the scene. Rendered in high-contrast black and white, the lack of color focuses attention on form. Like Caspar David Friedrich’s Moonrise over the Sea, Sea Maidens explores the intimate union between women and nature.
Arthur B. Davies, Sea Maidens, 1924, Soft-ground etching and aquatint, 19.8 x 29.8 cm, in the Johnson Museum of Art.
Ogawa Kazumasa, Fishermaidens, Albumen print hand colored applied on, 1860-1900, 24.1 x 19.1 cm, Johnson Museum of Art.
While Davies' photograph expresses femininity through mysticism, Kazumasa’s Fishermaidens portrays femininity through a different incarnation: strength and as stewards of their communities. In this hand-colored albumen print, two Japanese women are engaged in a quiet physical act, gathering sustenance from the sea. Their work, though modest, emphasizes the narrative of femininity as resilient, essential, and sustaining. Just as the sea offers nourishment and life, these women serve as providers within their communities through their attentive, enduring labor. Their bent posture and direct contact with the water suggest a profound intimacy with the natural world. They are immersed within, moving with the tides, and attuned to its rhythms. The hand-applied color intentionally enhances the bright red and green details of their clothing and sea vegetation, bringing visual emphasis to the connection with their environment. Their textured garments patterned with stripes and checkers, while functional, speak to the layered nature of feminine identity and portray a balance between tradition, survival, and beauty. In a similar spirit, Ramsgate, Kent: The Beach and Harbour at Night also uses rich surface textures to emphasize the tactile realities of coastal life.
Learn more about each of these artists portraying femininity:
Femininity is also reflected in the moon's pull to the sea. Two of nature's most powerful forces work together to elicit a range of emotions from humans on the waves and on the shore. Through Romantic-era artworks, we trace the moon’s nightly journey and its emotional resonance, uncovering how artists used the interplay between humanity, the ocean, and the moon to express deeper truths about the human spirit and its connection to nature.
Caspar David Friedrich, Moonrise over the Sea, 1822, oil on canvas, 21 5/8 × 27 15/16 in., Alte Nationalgalerie, Berlin, Germany.
Friedrich invites viewers into a shared act of contemplation, aligning us with the seated figures who gaze out toward the rising moon. By distilling a moment of emotional resonance between humans and the natural world, he reveals how mystery, beauty, and solitude can be profound sources of meaning. This feeling transcends gendered expectations, embodied by both the male and female figures. The moment is neither feminine nor masculine, but is instead simply human.
Moonrise over the Sea elicits a feeling of wonder through Friedrich’s poignant use of light, strong color, and exploration of temporality. The moon's warmth shifts the tones of the rest of the painting, diluting the coolness of the purples and blues and allowing the piece to lean into the warmer hues of the moonlight and dark rocks. The moon’s transformative power moves the scene from one moment to the next, reinforcing its temporality.
A closer look at Moonrise. All three figures watch the moon rise, and the women hold each other while the man sits beside them.
Johan Christian Dahl’s Mother and Child by the Sea depicts a more unsettling scene, with his use of luminosity and compositional framing emphasizing the dangers of seafaring voyages. Dahl's depiction of darkness creates uncertainty, obscuring the moment for the audience. Night has begun falling, and the brightness of the moon and its light cast everything else in comparative shadow. As the boat moves toward the shore, it aligns with the woman and child, whose silhouettes sharply contrast with the bright white sea foam and moonlit water.
A closer look at Mother and Child. The anchor beside them points toward the moon, the painting's quiet source of hope.
Johan Christian Dahl, Mother and Child by the Sea, 1830, oil on canvas, 6 1/4 x 8 1/8 in., The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Dahl identified the woman and child waiting for the fisherman's return as his family. This context cements the emotions that arise from viewing the painting: the discomfort from the darkness, the hope that the boat will beat the drifting clouds, and the relief at seeing how close it is to the shore. Dahl explores the catharsis of survival in the face of grief, an element close to his own life, having lost two of his children in the year before this work’s completion and his wife three years before. This exploration again crosses gender norms, embodied by both his creation of an idyllic scene and the figures' hope.
Unknown artist, Ramsgate, Kent: the beach and harbour at night, 1850, wood engraving print, Wellcome Collection, London, United Kingdom.
The couple does not appear as two individuals, but rather as a unified presence, sharing a moment of contemplation for the beautiful harbor. Their stillness suggests no desire for anything beyond aesthetic appreciation. The moonlight that glides over the sea also washes across their bodies, visually linking them to the natural world. This detail affirms their interconnectedness not only with each other but with nature itself. As in other Romantic works, the expression of quiet intimacy, wonder, and emotional connection transcends gendered roles, allowing a deeply human experience to emerge.
The tactile linework in Ramsgate, Kate: the beach and harbour at night refines the evoked sense of serenity and harmony, exploring the delight of the ocean at night. Though it is fully nighttime, this print is brighter than the other two pieces, and its figures are clearer than the other people we have seen. The consistent line width and direction enhance the tactility of the scene and attract the eye. The lines on the water shrink but remain uniform, shifting only when representing reflected light. This visual consistency cultivates a balanced and harmonious image, echoing the calm of the night.
A closer look at Ramsgate. The nets' layering of the lines pushes them against each other, leaving inconsistent negative space and creating an organic form.
The relationship between the moon, the ocean, and humanity extends beyond any one individual, stretching from the first human to the present. At the same time, it remains deeply personal, shaped by each person’s unique lived experience. Still, it holds the enduring capacity to foster shared joy, healing, and catharsis. The communal aspect of oceanic appreciation allows it to transcend normative and unhealthy ways humans interact with each other, themselves, and the world at large. It serves as a reminder of the grace and joy that come with surrendering to forces greater than ourselves, an idea extensively explored in Romantic-era artworks.
Birds Flying over Surf
Margaret Bourke-White (American, 1904–1971)
1952 (negative), ca. 1965 (print)
Gelatin silver print
Image: 15 1/2 × 19 1/4 inches (39.4 × 48.9 cm);
Mount: 22 1/16 × 27 15/16 inches (56 × 71 cm)
Gift of the Artist, Class of 1927, and LIFE Magazine
Location: Cornell University, Herbert F. Johnson Museum
Margaret Bourke-White broke barriers and changed the world of photography forever. She became the first female photographer for Life magazine and the first Western photographer allowed into the Soviet Union during its Industrial Revolution, paving the way for future generations of women photographers.
Here, nature and more precisely the harmony of water and sky is at the center of this photograph. In this horizontal format, no less than six almost parallel lines follow one another. We can note the demarcation of the beach, the foam banks, the line that delimits the end of the foam and the open sea, the grouped passage of seagulls, a second row of birds which trace a finer line and finally the horizon, clearly identifiable by the play of grays which offers a clear demarcation. The powerful image combines the marine universe and the sky, the world of birds. The feeling that emanates from the photograph is a harmony between the two elements, and the birds inviting the ocean to follow their ways.
Anthony Friedkin's photography transforms the substance of water, giving it a form, density, and an incomparable smoothness. The grain of the photograph here particularly seems to give the water an unprecedented substance. The photograph’s composition disrupts the horizontality of the landscape format and the sea. Everything is elevated in this shot, which freezes the power of water and its weightless tension. The sun-drenched foam seems unreal, as if freezing the movement had given it a new appearance, completely unattainable in real life. Rays of sunlight and foam escape toward the top of the photograph to ward off the flatness of the world. Here, photography detaches itself from reality to gain autonomy and offers us a new perspective: water is a known but mysterious substance.
Seagull flying over breaking waves, La Jolla, CA
Anthony Friedkin (American, born 1949)
2000
Gelatin silver print Exhibition print 2/25
Image: 11 15/16 × 17 15/16 inches (30.3 × 45.6 cm);
Sheet: 15 7/8 × 19 13/16 inches (40.3 × 50.3 cm);
Mat: 22 × 28 inches (55.9 × 71.1 cm)
Gift of Albert A. Dorskind, Class of 1943, JD 1948
Location: Cornell University, Herbert F. Johnson Museum
OBJECT NUMBER 2002.166
Albert Einstein Sailing, from Einstein Portfolio
Lotte Jacobi (American, born in Poland, 1896–1990)
1937 (negative); 1978 (print)
Halftone print
Image: 7 × 5 inches (17.8 × 12.7 cm)
Gift of Clara K. Seley
Location: Cornell University, Herbert F. Johnson Museum
OBJECT NUMBER 86.084.028.006
“I just try and get people to talk, to relax, to be themselves. I don't like a passive, bored subject. I do portraits because I like people, and I want to bring out their personalities. Many photographers today, I think, are bringing out the worst part of people. I try and bring out the best.”
Lotte Jacobi is renowned for her more intimate, more familiar photographs of Einstein than those we are usually confronted with.
The scientist's tousled hair reconnects with fairly traditional representations of Einstein but also materializes the air and the wind. Through a synaesthetic effect, contemplating the photo allows us to feel the peaceful breath of the moment. Jacobi works the composition and harmony of the whole through a subtle interplay of correspondences between the color of the sail, Einstein's shirt, and the color of the boat's hull. The whole creates a harmonious picture through a subtle play of echoes and parallels. The image that the photographer captures of Einstein is that of a free man, a happy man, emancipated from the conventions in which most representations confine him. The maritime space seems to encourage the freedom to be oneself and to break with the smooth and formal expectations of the representation of one of the greatest scientists. The boat moves from right to left in the photograph, breaking with the linear and traditional direction of time, a movement against the current that Einstein seems to facetiously appreciate.
Man savors and wonders about a world that is not his own. The photographer attempts to capture a precious moment, almost imperceptible to the naked eye. A tenth of a second, when the birds line up and the wave breaks. A moment when even the most complex and tangled souls find solace.
Breaking free of expectations was no secret to Joseph Mallord William Turner, whose oil painting War. The Exile and the Rock Limpet was heavily criticized by his contemporaries for its departure from typical historical artworks. In the piece, an abstract array of burgundy and sepia surrounds the titular Exile Napoleon, bleeding into the background as hints of blue peek out from the tucked away corners. The Exile stands proud astride the shoreline, cutting a striking figure as he contemplates the reflective waters. Yet narrowing in on the object of his supposed fascination yields naught but the lowly rock limpet, and the frame of the painting begins to shift. A closer inspection of the Exile’s crossed arms and despondent expression, hidden away from the intrusive guard, paint a portrait of despair. Far from the fanfare of typical patriotic art, Turner’s piece is a solemn examination of one of history’s legendary figures. Astounded by the grandiosity of Napoleon’s posthumous return to France, Turner sought to more accurately depict the Emperor’s last years: doomed to a slow, meaningless death awash in the violent hues of his “sea of blood.”
Joseph Mallord William Turner, War. The Exile and the Rock Limpet, 1842, Oil on Canvas, 103 × 102.5 × 11.2 cm, Tate Britain
John Singleton Copley, Watson and the Shark, 1779, Oil on Canvas, 182.1 cm x 229.7 cm, National Gallery of Art
A much more visceral scene than Turner’s War, John Singleton Copley’s Watson and the Shark graphically depicts a snapshot of impending disaster. The shark lurks in the shadowy depths, its gaping mouth blending seamlessly with the dark, chaotic sea around it as it lunges forward. This potential for violence is mirrored in the man preparing his spear, bracing as the spear’s tip dissolves into the boat’s shadow. This starkly contrasts with the all-white clothing of several crew members reaching desperately toward the flailing Watson, whose life hangs delicately in the balance.
Historians believe that the piece was commissioned by Watson himself, who survived and went on to become the Lord Mayor of London. Yet it wasn’t just Watson’s life that Copley imagined to be teetering on the brink: painted in 1778, the piece debuted during the throes of the American Revolution. As a portrait painter for New England’s elite, Copley was well acquainted with both Whig and Tory families, and unsuccessfully attempted to broker a peace deal before the upheaval of the Boston Tea Party. Painting the same ship that the Boston colonists ransacked in the backdrop of Watson and the Shark, Copley subtly represents two crossroads in the guise of a single charged moment.
The final piece of the exhibition is Ivan Aivazovsky’s The Ninth Wave, which carries the solemn air of Moonrise and Wonder imbued with the desperation of Watson and the Shark. The piece’s composition is breathtaking, with a frothing sea dwarfing the decrepit sailors upon their flotsam. Painted with murky green and gray undertones, the sea is opaque to any pleas for mercy. Yet from the windswept chaos, a glimmer of hope emerges: the sunrise announces that the titular ninth wave, the last and greatest calamity, has passed. As an aberration in the color scheme and easily the brightest point in the painting, the eyes of both the casual observer and marooned sailors are inexorably drawn to the sun’s diffuse beauty.
As the official painter of the Russian Navy, Aivazovsky's work was inextricably linked to the geopolitical tensions of his time. After the outbreak of the Crimean War with the Ottoman Empire, Aivazovsky furiously declared that he “threw away all the medals … and he can throw [the ribbons] into the seas I painted.” The historical weight of his art still rings true today, with both the Ukrainian and Russian governments laying claim to Aivazovsky’s works in Crimea.
Ivan Aivazovsky, The Ninth Wave, 1850, Oil on Canvas, 221 cm × 332 cm, State Russian Museum
Harper, Sarah, and Angela Martin. “Gender and the Ocean: Marine Resources and Spaces for All.” In The Ocean and Us, edited by Farah Obaidullah, 309–19. Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2023. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-10812-9_29.
Harper and Martin examine how gender influences access to ocean and marine resources, highlighting systemic inequalities faced by women in coastal and maritime sectors. Their analysis reveals how social roles and power dynamics shape women’s engagement with the ocean. This contributes to the theme by linking femininity to oceanic labor, rights, and representation.
Helmreich, Stefan. “The Genders of Waves.” Women’s Studies Quarterly 45, no. 1/2 (2017): 29–51. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44474101.
Helmreich explores the symbolic feminization of ocean waves across Judeo-Christian theology, philosophy, and scientific epistemology. He also examines how feminist movements have used wave metaphors to express collective power. This interdisciplinary analysis deepens the understanding of femininity and the ocean as mutually constructed through cultural, spiritual, and epistemic frameworks.
Omstedt, Anders. 2024. A Philosophical View of the Ocean and Humanity: Second Edition. 2 ed. Springer International Publishing AG.
This book explores the connection between humanity and the ocean in three parts. The first connects science and art, the second explores this connection through examples, written both scientifically and artistically, and the final section covers how these connections allow us to practice ethical stewardship of the ocean and achieve harmony with oceanic ecosystems.
Swiggett, Glen Levin. “What Is Romanticism?” The Sewanee Review 11, no. 2 (1903): 144–60. http://www.jstor.org/stable/27530553.
Swigget argues that Romanticism cannot be strictly defined, for it is a personal and temperamental force in literature and art that yearns to capture beauty beyond the material world. He contextualizes arguments about its origin and purpose and provides us with a framework to follow when analyzing Romantic pieces.
American Heritage. "The Case For Modern Marine Art." American Heritage 36, no. 2 (1985). https://www.americanheritage.com/case-modern-marine-art
The article discusses the history and current rebirth of marine art in the United States, closely examining the marked similarities between many contemporary and 19th century artworks. It goes on to analyze the comparative lack of actual marine experience possessed by modern artists juxtaposed against their superior artistic fundamentals, presenting a thoughtful critique of the current dearth of innovation.