
Sunday
He stares out the window, she pokes the fire, and the dots are used here for boredom rather than sunlight.

He stares out the window, she pokes the fire, and the dots are used here for boredom rather than sunlight.

A family at breakfast, posed so stiffly in the glare that the comfortable room turns faintly airless. Every surface is built from dots.

He is coming over the garden wall and she has just seen him, with a statue of Venus watching from above. Painted for Madame du Barry.

Manet painted this beside Monet at Argenteuil and let the blue water climb all the way to the top edge of the canvas.

Monet's own father sits among the gladioli on a terrace, and the young painter tips the space up in flat bands like a Japanese print.

He weighs gold on a fine balance and her eyes drift off the prayer book toward the coins. A small mirror catches the room.

A married couple sitting on the grass, leaning into each other and visibly amused, which is not how marriage portraits were done.

He reads the paper, she touches one key of the piano, and we are watching from the street through their window.

Wood posed his sister and his dentist in front of a farmhouse window, and people have argued ever since whether he meant tribute or mockery.

Two lovers kneel wrapped in a single gold robe, rectangles patterning his side of it and circles hers, on a meadow of flowers.

A couple joins hands in a Bruges bedroom, and the mirror behind them catches two visitors at the door. Van Eyck signed the wall above it.