
The Death of Marat
David was Marat's friend and political ally, and he laid the murdered man out in his bath with the gravity of a religious lamentation.

David was Marat's friend and political ally, and he laid the murdered man out in his bath with the gravity of a religious lamentation.

A stylized river runs down the gold between two plum trees, one young and white, the other old and red, leaning toward each other.

Three brothers salute the swords their father holds up while the women of the house collapse at the right, four years before the Revolution.

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.

Sharaku made about 140 actor prints in ten months and then vanished so completely that people still argue about who he was.

Cupid's wings stay up as the two bodies cross in a weightless X, cut so smooth the marble stops reading as stone.

An incubus squats on a sleeping woman's chest while a wild-eyed horse pushes through the curtains. It made Fuseli famous immediately.

Three famous women of 1790s Edo on mica ground, their faces nearly identical, so you have to read them from the tilt of an eye.

Not a goddess but a real woman looking straight back, which is why the Inquisition took an interest. Goya painted a clothed version too.

A clown in white satin stands alone at full length with his arms hanging useless, given the scale of a grand portrait.

An old man works the ropes without knowing the young man in the bushes is looking straight up her skirts. A slipper flies off.

Socrates reaches for the hemlock without looking at it, still arguing with his other hand while his students fall apart around him.

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

Goya put himself at an easel in the shadows, as Velázquez had, and painted the royal family looking vacant, pompous or merely plain.

At sixty-three the king still turns out one leg to show the dancer's calf he was proud of, under a cascade of ermine and fleurs-de-lis.

Brook Watson really did lose a leg to a shark in Havana harbor, and Copley put a Black sailor at the top of the rescue.

Blake's Urizen leans out of the sun with a golden compass to measure the void, and Blake was not sure whether to admire him.

Copley painted the silversmith in his shirtsleeves at the bench with a teapot in his hand, which was not how gentlemen were usually shown.

Hersilia throws herself between the two armies with her arms out. David painted it after the Terror, arguing for reconciliation instead of oaths.

For once Fragonard is not being naughty. A girl in yellow reads, and the ruff at her wrist is a few flicks of impasto.

The same woman, same cushions, same pose, now dressed. It is thought to have hung in front of the nude and slid aside.

He sings up at a window and nobody comes, while behind him a stone statue has its back turned.

Light drops through the oculus onto the coffered dome while tourists stand about looking small. Painted for Grand Tourists to take home.

Louise O'Murphy was a teenage favorite of Louis XV, and Boucher painted her face-down across the cushions for private consumption.

Even the Passion gets Tiepolo's airy color and snapping banners, the whole shoving procession swept upward toward Golgotha as theater.

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.

An artist weeps beside a colossal marble foot and a pointing hand, defeated by the size of what antiquity had already managed.

Masts splintering, survivors in the surf, and the whole thing arranged for people who wanted to feel terror from a safe distance.

Venus in a pearly sea with nymphs, tritons and putti all around, made entirely to delight and not at all to instruct.

Washington leans on a cannon with captured flags at his feet. Peale knew him and served in the war, so this is the man.

Enslaved people dancing and making music beside their cabins, with African instruments and dress. Attributed to a South Carolina slaveholder.

A young man glances up from his guitar mid-song. Greuze usually painted tearful moral lessons, and here he simply does not.