Monstrous Surrealism: “And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur”

by Debbie Felton

During a recent trip to NYC’s MoMA (Museum of Modern Art), I stumbled across a beautiful little piece of surrealist art by Leonora Carrington. The Surrealists often used imagery from Greek and other mythologies to express the fantastical and dreamlike aspects of the unconscious and irrational mind, and Carrington’s work is no exception.

Leonora Carrington, And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur (1953). Oil on canvas, 23 5/8 × 27 9/16″ (60 × 70 cm). Artwork © 2025 Leonora Carrington / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. Photo by D. Felton, 2025.

The visual world of Leonora Carrington

British-born Leonora Carrington (1917–2011) deserves more recognition outside of art history circles. As her cousin Joanna Moorhead noted, Carrington was “one of Britain’s finest—and neglected—surrealists.” Although she was very well known in surrealist circles, her work was overshadowed by that of her male contemporaries, particularly her mentor and lover Max Erst. Starting in her 20s, Carrington immersed herself in the art world of Paris, drawing heavily on Greek, Celtic, and Mexican mythology for her work, as the odd, hybrid creatures inhabiting the stories provided a lens through which she could explore aspects of the female experience. (In fact, aside from being a talented artist and novelist, she was also one of the founding members of the women’s liberation movement in the 1970s in Mexico, where she had become a naturalized citizen.) Carrington’s paintings, influenced in part by those of Hieronymous Bosch and Hilma af Klint, reflect her own interest in the mythical and mystical: her “otherworldly landscapes” invite viewers to immerse themselves in an alternate reality.

And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur

The title of the work suggests a story in progress, one we can only imagine. The setting mingles interior and exterior elements. We see a room open to the air, with vaulted arches and supporting columns, a small window at the left and a long hallway at the right, the latter streaming with light. But external nature overlaps with the internal setting: a vine curls around the leftmost column, while wispy clouds and twinkling stars float along the ceiling, lending an impression of height to the location. An unseen breeze seems to stretch the clouds, also stirring the clothing of the figures below.

Two boys (likely representing Carrington’s two sons) figure at the very center of the painting, their diminutive stature overwhelmed by the mysterious leaf-like, pink-robed figure to their right. Yet the boys are gazing not at this inscrutable, alien being but directly at the white, horned figure with dainty human hands and bovine hooves, garbed in bright orange—a figure that in turn seems to be looking out almost, but not quite directly at us, the viewers. This must be the Minotaur’s daughter, her curling tail leading our eye to the vine around the column, blending animal and vegetable being. The table between the boys and the Minotaur’s daughter, with its slightly crumpled covering and scattered bubble-like crystal balls of different sizes, suggests interrupted action; have the boys stumbled across a fortune-telling session or other mystic consultation? The Minotaur figure seems somewhat startled, with open arms and legs positioned as if half rising from its seat. A trampled rose, its petals scattered, lies unexplained on the floor, while at left one of two dogs (whippets?) stares at an ethereal, sprightly figure with a flower- or peacock-like crest dancing toward us down the bright hallway (images immediately below). Animals are said to be able to sense the supernatural; is the preternaturally alert dog seeing something that the boys cannot?

Detail immediately above: Head of the pink-robed figure, And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur.

The pink-robed figure may have been an influence from Robert Graves, as Carrington was quite familiar with his The White Goddess, so perhaps she intended a representation connected with matriarchy, the moon, and poetic inspiration. Alternatively, the figure’s excessively large, leaf-like head, adorned with small fleur-de-lis cross-like symbols, seems reminiscent of the cornette-style wimples worn by Catholic nuns during the early twentieth century. Carrington was raised Catholic, but rebelled against her strict upbringing, failing out of at least two or three religious schools. Perhaps the boys in the painting are, like Carrington, intentionally turning away from the nun-like figure (as suggested by their posture), fascinated instead by the mythical Minotaur? This latter figure itself invites even more unanswerable, uncomfortable questions: How is it that the Minotaur has a daughter? What has her life been like? Is she trapped in this setting, or does the painting suggest that this daughter is somehow more free than her father was, trapped in the Cretan Labyrinth and slain by Theseus? The Minotaur’s daughter is hardly monstrous, and the children are unafraid. Rather, their mundane dark-grey cloaks, contrasted with the pink and orange robes of the other two, larger figures, suggest that this otherworld they’ve crossed into is more vibrant and alluring than their own.

Kate Dwyer describes the painting as “bewilderment in its purest form,” noting that it offers just a small glimpse into Carrington’s “fully realized (or surrealized) world,” and that we should not expect more than that because, during her lifetime, she refused to be drawn into any analysis of why she painted things the way she did. This discussion has already imposed more interpretation on the painting than is warranted; viewers should decide for themselves what the fantastical scene means to them, personally.

For more on Leonora Carrington and this painting, see:

Dwyer, Kate. 2022. “Why Leonora Carrington’s Work Feels So of the Moment.” W Magazine, https://www.wmagazine.com/culture/leonora-carrington-venice-biennale-books-history .

MoMA. 2021. “And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur.” Interview with Elba Rodriguez, Member Specialist. YouTube, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNQg1NeWfGI .

MoMA. 2018. “Leonora Carrington. And Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur. 1953.” Interview with Jackie Armstrong, Associate Educator, Visitor Research and Experience. Artful Practices for Well-Being, https://www.moma.org/audio/playlist/309/3989 .

Moorhead, Joanna. 2007. “Leonora and Me.” The Guardian, https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2007/jan/02/art .

On Leonora Carrington and her close friend, fellow Surrealist Remedios Varo:

Smith, Roberta. 2019. “Female Surrealists Re-emerge in 2 Startling Shows.” The New York Times, https://www.nytimes.com/2019/06/13/arts/design/leonora-carrington-paintings.html .

And for this painting’s influence on poetry:

Jones, Kathleen. 2020. “Tuesday Poem: And Then We Saw The Daughter of the Minotaur, Bob Beagrie.” A Writer’s Life, https://kathleenjonesauthor.blogspot.com/2020/09/tuesday-poem-and-then-we-saw-daughter.html .

Debbie Felton, Professor of Classics at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, is the editor of The Oxford Handbook of Monsters in Classical Myth (2024), to which she contributed the chapter “Ancient Monsters in Modern Science.” She also regularly teaches a course on the Greek and Latin roots of medical terminology.