
The Virgin and Child (Ugolino)
The Child reaches up to grasp the edge of his mother's veil. Ugolino followed Duccio more closely than anyone else did.

The Child reaches up to grasp the edge of his mother's veil. Ugolino followed Duccio more closely than anyone else did.

Overbeck and the Nazarenes lived almost as monks in Rome and painted deliberately like the Italians before Raphael. This is the program.

Late Botticelli, with the early lightness gone tense. He had fallen under Savonarola's spell and his religious pictures never relaxed again.

The oval face, the lowered eyes, the Umbrian distance melting into air. Raphael took all of it and then went past it.

Six angels lean in along the throne with their heads tilted, which turns a rigid Byzantine formula into something nearly intimate.

The Virgin lies on the hillside and turns to lay her son in the manger, looking at his face. No gold, just a cold blue sky.

The Child lies on the ground giving off his own light across the straw and his mother's face. One of the first paintings lit from inside.

Joseph reaches up to pull down dates from a palm while Saint Francis kneels at the side, added for the chapel that ordered it.

The Child sits astride a lamb, which is the sacrifice, and Raphael took the interlocking group straight out of Leonardo.

A gilded low sun hangs over the road and the orange trees are heavy with fruit, an early attempt at real morning light across a landscape.

The Virgin offers the Child a bunch of grapes, which stand for the wine of his death, in an exactly observed Flemish wood.

Bruegel gives the holy figures plain faces and surrounds them with gawkers and whisperers, which makes reverence hard to come by.

Giotto had watched Halley's Comet in 1301 and painted the Star of Bethlehem as a comet, apparently the first artist to do it.

The angels crowd in like inquisitive children. One of the first paintings to put the Virgin and saints in a single shared space.

Four prophets peer from arches under the throne holding scrolls that foretell the Virgin Birth, and the throne is angled to suggest depth.

Dürer painted it in Venice to prove a German could beat the Venetians at color, and wrote on it that it took five months.

Luke was the patron saint of painters, and van der Weyden ran the Brussels painters' guild, so this is a tribute to the trade.

Christ reaches up to push his mother's veil aside. Scorch marks on the original frame record centuries of candles set before it.

The three kings are Medici, and the young man in the saffron cloak at the right, looking straight out at us, is Botticelli.

The little demons carved on the pedestal were taken for harpies and gave the picture its name. Del Sarto was called the faultless painter.

All the light in the picture comes off the newborn child, and one shepherd throws up a hand against the glare.

The holy family is tiny and the landscape does everything, which is the arrangement Poussin and Claude would build whole careers on.

The Virgin is far too big for the cathedral because she stands for the Church itself, and real sunlight falls in patches across the floor.

Four and a half meters tall, the largest panel painted in its century, with six angels kneeling to steady a throne that seems to float.

Six angels stack up the sides of the throne against gold. Cimabue taught Giotto, and the throne here is just beginning to recede into space.

The second version, painted to settle a long quarrel with the confraternity. Everyone now has a halo and the angel has stopped pointing.

No halo, no manger, just a candle shielded by a hand and a swaddled baby, and it still reads as a nativity.

Where Cimabue and Duccio floated their Madonnas on gold, Giotto gave his weight, a real throne, and a body that presses through the cloth.

The saints share one continuous space instead of separate compartments, and the two kneeling physicians are the name-saints of the Medici who paid.

An ostrich egg hangs from the vault and pulls every sightline down. Federico is shown from the left because a tournament took his right eye.

Three generations nest into one shifting pyramid, and Leonardo kept reworking it for years without ever calling it finished.

Van Eyck spared the old canon nothing: the stubble, the swollen hands, the spectacles. His armored saint mirrors the whole room in miniature.

Leonardo painted this cave twice after falling out with the patrons. This is the earlier version, the one that stayed in France.

The kings arrive with a retinue of horses, hounds and a leopard, every surface tooled in gold for one of Florence's richest families.

Three weathered shepherds crowd in to look at the newborn, and when the triptych reached Florence from Bruges the local painters took note.

Two bored cherubs lean on the frame at the bottom, and they floated free of the altarpiece long ago onto everything else.

When Duccio finished it in 1311 the whole of Siena walked it to the cathedral in procession, with the bells going the entire way.