
Night View of a Ginza Store
Gaslight in the windows of a new brick storefront on an empty Tokyo street. Yasuji died at twenty-five and got there before Hopper.

Gaslight in the windows of a new brick storefront on an empty Tokyo street. Yasuji died at twenty-five and got there before Hopper.

Hundreds of minutely painted fish, baskets and hagglers. They called him Velvet Bruegel for exactly this kind of finish.

Signac moved to Saint-Tropez and pulled the rest of the Neo-Impressionists south. Seurat's tight dots have loosened into bigger, brighter tiles.

Notre-Dame across the Seine in a few dark summary strokes, painted before Matisse's color went off and Fauvism happened.

A train crosses the sky upside down, a man drifts past on a parachute, and the cat on the sill has a human face.

A packet boat comes in at evening and Turner dissolves the city, the passengers and the river into a single sheet of gold.

The Roman Forum was a cattle pasture when Turner painted it, and he let the columns of empire evaporate into gold air.

Her male colleagues doubted a woman could paint the city, so O'Keeffe painted the city, with a moon caught between two dark buildings.

Monet went to Venice late and found a city already doing what he had spent fifty years trying to paint.

Monet painted Westminster across the river again and again because what he actually wanted was the fog, not the building.

Pissarro painted these boulevards from a hotel window over and over, but only once after dark, the gaslight smeared across wet pavement.

Billboards, scaffolding and stairways in flat primary color, with people reduced to bright interchangeable parts. Léger loved machines and made no secret of it.

Men in bowler hats hang in the sky over the rooftops at even intervals, neither falling nor floating, which is somehow the unsettling part.

A green-faced peasant and a cow look at each other, and the houses behind them are upside down. Chagall grew up in Vitebsk.

Saint Ursula is on the quay somewhere, but the real subject is the light coming up the water between the palaces at dawn.

The sun sits low over a glassy harbor and floods everything. Turner admired it so much he insisted his own work hang beside it.

Van Gogh set up outside and painted the terrace on the spot after dark, pleased that he had used no black at all.

Rain falls as fine diagonal scratches over the bridge, a trick Van Gogh admired enough to copy the whole print in oil.

A girl rolls a hoop down an arcaded street toward a shadow coming around the corner, in light that belongs to no hour.

El Greco moved the cathedral tower off its real site for the sake of the composition and lit the whole city with a green storm.