
Mediterranean Landscape
The whole coast reduced to a few flat zones of color and some quick line. Picasso old, settled in the south, and enjoying himself.

The whole coast reduced to a few flat zones of color and some quick line. Picasso old, settled in the south, and enjoying himself.

Hot pinks and oranges laid on freely, a year before Cézanne and Picasso's Demoiselles sent Braque off toward Cubism instead.

Two elephants carrying obelisks on legs far too spindly to hold them, which is the entire effect and it works.

You take in the whole river valley before you notice the sower at the bottom corner, or Christ preaching from a boat behind him.

Christ preaches from a hilltop and is almost too small to find. Claude was really painting the hills, the water and the distance.

A man and a white horse in a Tahitian grove, painted on Gauguin's first stay, flat and warm and looking for a paradise.

Green and rose slopes flattened into bold shapes, with rather less interest in what the island actually looked like than in the color.

One puff of steam drifts across a curving shoreline, the modern world putting a small mark on a landscape that had none.

Boats and masts broken into tilting green and brown planes, painted while Braque and Picasso were building Cubism out of Cézanne.

Red New Mexico hills roll across the canvas with a few flowers brought right up close, the vast and the fragile in one frame.

Bacon started from a snapshot of a friend dozing in a park and then removed the head, the identity and the ease.

Dalí went back to his own melting watches and broke the ground beneath them into floating bricks, for the atomic age.

Eden on one side of the rock arch, blasted wilderness on the other, and Cole lets the landscape carry the entire moral argument.

Plain village houses on a hillside, built in solid earthy blocks. Pissarro refused to prettify the countryside and gave it structural weight instead.

Bierstadt painted this vast hunt as the herds were nearing extinction, with skulls and bones already lying across the foreground.

A Union officer faces three captured Confederates and the two halves of the country study each other. Homer had covered the war as an illustrator.

A quack in a funnel hat cuts the stone of madness out of a man's head, and what comes out is a flower.

Paris turns up as a German knight in plate armor and the three goddesses wear nothing but jewels and improbable hats.

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.

A shepherd twists onto his back and throws up a hand against the glare. One of the first real night scenes in Western art.

The sea-monster is part fish and part beast and thoroughly invented, and some of the onlookers on the shore have started playing music.

Masts stand black against a sky going from gold to soft blue, and almost nothing else in the picture is solid.

Peasants and houses rendered as polished metal cylinders. Malevich was three years away from painting a black square and stopping.

Hundreds of tiny figures skating, sledging and falling over on one frozen river. Avercamp was deaf and mute and known as the mute of Kampen.

The hills buckle and heave in the same thick strokes he gave his skies, so that the rock ends up moving too.

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

Splintered stumps and shell craters under a cold sun, and Nash gave it that title on purpose, as an official British war artist.

Ernst made the eaten-away textures by pressing and lifting paint, working on it while fleeing occupied Europe for America.

Critics at the first Impressionist show in 1874 said it looked like palette scrapings. The furrows are streaked with blue, violet and gold.

June or July from the same series of months, with rakes over shoulders and a girl carrying baskets of cherries toward us.

Poussin laid the crowd out like a relief so each gesture reads separately, one woman so hungry she nurses her own mother.

Not a single figure anywhere in it. Church painted this burning sky in 1860, and people have read the Civil War into it since.

A giant stands with his head in the clouds while everything below scatters. Whether Goya actually painted it is now disputed.

Thomas Cole and the poet Bryant stand on a ledge in the Catskills. Durand painted it as a memorial after Cole died young.

Bierstadt went west with a survey expedition and came home with peaks lit like an opera set, which is what the country wanted.

A canvas on an easel shows exactly the landscape it is standing in front of, and therefore hides it completely.

Six blind men go down one after another, and Bruegel painted their clouded eyes accurately enough for doctors to diagnose the conditions.

Two pale legs disappear into the sea in the corner while the ploughman keeps ploughing. Auden wrote a poem about exactly that indifference.

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

Wilderness under storm on the left, farmland in sunshine on the right, and Cole himself down in the middle, tiny, looking up from his easel.

Flying fish, reading toads and a burning village, and in the middle of it Anthony kneels and blesses a small Christ, entirely undistracted.


O'Keeffe collected sun-bleached bones off the desert and hung this one in the sky over the hills, with a single white hollyhock beside it.

A single magpie on a gate in deep snow, the shadows tinged blue and violet rather than grey. The Salon turned it down.

Monet painted the same stacks near his house at every hour and season, so that what changes from canvas to canvas is only the light.

Instead of copying idealized Chinese scenery, Jeong Seon walked out and painted a real hill above Seoul with the rain just lifting off it.

Monet dug the pond himself at Giverny, built the Japanese bridge over it, and then painted the place for the rest of his life.

Van Gogh loved the cypress and compared it to an Egyptian obelisk, then set one flaming up the right side of a Provençal field.

The tower is already leaning as it goes up, and Bruegel drew the cranes and ramps in enough detail that you could nearly build it.

An empty pavilion, a few dry trees, no people at all. Ni Zan gave away his estate and spent his last years on a houseboat.

They called him One-Corner Ma. A scholar and a willow occupy one corner and the rest of the silk is left as air.

One ancient cypress sprawls across the screen against solid gold, painted by the man who decorated the castles of Nobunaga and Hideyoshi.

A collector loved the scroll so much he tried to have it burned with him at death. It was pulled from the fire in two pieces.

Tens of thousands of tiny soldiers fight under a sky that curves like the whole earth. Painted while the Ottomans were pressing on Vienna.

A mountain, a wineshop flag and a boatman conjured from a few wet blots. Sesshu made it as a parting gift for a departing pupil.

Cézanne painted his local mountain over and over, less to record it than to rebuild it out of flat patches of green, ochre and blue.

Three women bend for the stalks left after harvest while a full farm sits small in the distance, which unsettled the people buying paintings.

Couples linger on the shore of Venus's island at dusk, unwilling to board. Watteau gave it to the Academy, which invented a genre to fit it.

Nudes lounge and pipe and dance in a ring in a glade of colors nothing in nature has, a Fauve idyll from 1906.

Courbet gave an ordinary village funeral the scale reserved for kings and saints, and the critics were furious about it.