wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
Two men, wearing stunning robes and headdresses made of luxurious fabrics, stand huddled together. Giovanni Battista Tiepolo's lively outlines and visible brushstrokes emphasise the long, showy sleeves and folds of the clothing. Hints of primary colours appear against more sombre tones, while the brilliant sunlight and subtle shade pick out the men's expressive faces and textured beards. Tiepolo was immensely skilled at drawing faces, which is particularly noticeable here in the weathered complexion of the aged man closest to us.

This is one of four paintings that once decorated a room in the Palazzo Cornaro on the Campo San Polo, Venice. The figures are inspired by Torquato Tasso’s Jerusalem Delivered, a popular sixteenth-century poem that tells of the ill-fated love between a Christian knight (Rinaldo) and a Saracen sorceress (Armida). The characterful old man with a fluffy white beard is probably the magician of Ascalon who, after showing Rinaldo heroic images of warfare in a shield, lures him back to fight. The shield lying at the man’s feet reappears in another painting from the same series, Rinaldo turning in Shame from the Magic Shield.

Style: Baroque, Rococo
The Virgin Mary's parents, Joachim and Anne, embrace at the Golden Gate in Jerusalem. According to the Golden Legend, the couple had been childless for 20 years when an angel told each separately that they would have a daughter called Mary. They met at the Golden Gate and Anne conceived, an event sometimes known as the Immaculate Conception.

On the right is Charlemagne, Holy Roman Emperor and King of the Franks, who died in 814. He wears an imperial crown, holds an orb and has the arms of the Empire and France on his surcoat (tunic). He looks out of the painting to our right, and gestures with his left arm (which is now partly missing).

This picture was the left side of a large altarpiece by Jean Hey, the right side of which was an Annunciation (Art Institute of Chicago). The altarpiece consisted of one oblong panel of four horizontal boards. The central section, now lost, would have been about 48 to 50 cm wide and the whole painting about 160cm wide. Part of a standing figure on the left of the Annunciation has been scraped out and overpainted, so that the work could pass as a complete picture. It was probably Saint Louis, King of France from 1226 to 1270. We are not sure what was shown in the central section, which was probably taller. It may well have been Saint Anne teaching the Virgin to read in front of a red and gold cloth of honour -- you can see the edge of this over the battlements at the right.

The presence of Charlemagne, the possible inclusion of Saint Louis and the prominence accorded to Saint Anne suggest that the patron may have been Anne de Beaujeu, wife of Pierre II, Duke of Bourbon. The Bourbons were especially interested in Mary's conception, and Anne de Beaujeu was especially devoted to Saint Anne, her  patron saint; she was herself an older mother who took a long time to conceive a child (she was married in 1473 and did not give birth until 1491).

The Bourbons had set up an altar to the Immaculate Conception in the Collegiate Church of Our Lady at Moulins, their home town, in the 1470s. This altarpiece might have been intended for it, and it was perhaps commissioned in gratitude for the birth of their one surviving child, Suzanne, in May 1491. They also had large statues of their patron saints -- including Saint Anne teaching the Virgin to read (now in the Louvre, Paris) -- made for their family chapel in around 1500, which were perhaps designed by the artist of this altarpiece.

Technical analysis shows a great deal of underdrawing and many changes. It marks the approximate positions of the main parts of the composition, which were often varied several times and then painted in slightly different places. Some things were sketched in but not included in the final version, and poses and the draperies were all changed several times as the artist tried to get the effect he wanted. He even seems to have done a preliminary painted version in brown and red tones. Tiny fragments of the original frame are still clinging to the left side of the panel in our collection; perhaps whoever removed the frame found it difficult to get off.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
Louis (1729-1765), son of Louis XV of France (whom he predeceased) and Marie Leczinska, was the father of Louis XVI, Louis XVIII, and Charles X. He is shown in the uniform of colonel of dragoons and wears the Order of the Saint-Esprit.

There are several versions or copies of this composition, usually bust size only. This is likely to be an early copy.

Style: Rococo, Neoclassical
Many -- very probably most -- seventeenth-century Dutch landscape paintings do not show a real view, but were composed to capture the spirit or impression of a place. Even when they were based on reality, they would often be made more dramatic or aesthetically pleasing by exaggerating, adding or rearranging particular features or elements of the scenery.

This painting depicts the ruins of a castle in Holland which still exist, so we can get an insight into whether Hobbema was faithful to what he saw and, if not, how he adapted the composition. Brederode Castle is in Santpoort, about three miles north of Haarlem. It was built and rebuilt several times between the thirteenth and fifteenth centuries, but was badly damaged in 1573 as a result of the siege of Haarlem. This took place during the Dutch revolt against Spain’s occupation of Holland. The victorious Spanish forces beheaded the leader of the local resistance, General Lancelot van Brederode, plundered his castle and set it on fire. After that the castle was never rebuilt and this painting of the ruins was made a century later, in 1671, a little over two decades after the Dutch had finally won independence. It may be that Hobbema or his patron (whose name has not survived) wanted the picture to commemorate this heroic history of resistance.

Although the ruins have deteriorated since 1671, parts of the two corner towers we see here and the remains of the gatehouse still survive, as does the moat. The woodland and even the course of the waterways may well have been adapted over the last 350 years, so we can’t be sure how faithful Hobbema has been in respect of these details (though the tree-lined road on the left still exists). But we can see that he made significant changes, removing parts of the surviving castle wall in the foreground to open out the view and raising the north-east tower on a high bank (in reality it stands on flat ground). His changes make the whole castle seem larger and more dramatic.

The figures and animals are also figments of the artistic imagination, but nevertheless an important part of the composition. They help give scale and depth to the composition, from the ducks in the foreground to the distant figure in a brown coat between the trees on the left and the couple who have climbed to the top of the ruins on the right. The pedlar walking with his sack and the man with the monkey also inject a sense of movement. They represent different social classes too, from the pedlars and the fishermen to the gentleman with his gun slung over his shoulder and the elegant sightseers admiring the ruins.

Most of these figures were probably added by another painter, possibly Dirck Wijntrack, after Hobbema had finished the landscape. This was a common arrangement in seventeenth-century Holland when certain elements were left to specialists.

Style: Baroque
A finely dressed young woman gazes assuredly out at the viewer. The distinct shape of her nose, the turn of her mouth and her faintly dimpled chin reveal that this is a portrait, though the sitter’s identity is unknown. She is shown in the guise of Saint Agnes, patron saint of young girls and virgins, with her attributes of a lamb (a symbol of her chaste innocence and her Christian devotion) and a sword (the instrument of her martyrdom).

Agnes was a beautiful young girl from a wealthy Roman family. They were early Christians, and Agnes was sentenced to death after spurning her suitors and pledging devotion to her faith. Her condemners tried to burn her at the stake; when this failed to kill her, she was stabbed or beheaded.

The saintly guise may have been chosen because the sitter and saint shared a name, or it may simply be that the artist, sitter or patron wished the sitter to be associated with Saint Agnes’s qualities of youth, beauty, piety, steadfastness and chastity. This didn't necessarily mean the subject of the portrait was unmarried; in fact, such characteristics might allude to the fact that she was about to be married, or that it was a commission by a proud husband of a virtuous wife. The silver support and the delicate finish certainly suggest that this was a precious object, perhaps painted for a loved one or spouse to carry with them.

The picture holds another clue to the woman’s identity. The ornately decorated stone portico in the background resembles the one designed by the Flemish painter Peter Paul Rubens to connect the two wings of his house, the Rubenshuis, in Antwerp. If the building is the Rubenshuis, the picture must predate a 1684 print of the property that includes additions not featured here. The dating of the architecture and the sitter's fashionable contemporary dress of about 1680 suggest that she may be a member of the Hillewerve family, who lived in the property at this time. No record of an ‘Agnes’ has yet been found, however.

Gonzales Coques was born and worked in Antwerp. He trained with Pieter Bruegel the Younger and David Rijckaert, and became a portrait and figure painter, patronised by both the Spanish Regents of the Southern Netherlands and the House of Orange, the rulers of the Northern Netherlands.

Style: Baroque
In a forest, in fading light at the end of the day, a huntsman guts a stag. He looks efficient and seemingly quick -- this is an everyday procedure for him. His gun lies beside him and his two hounds stand alert, ready to rejoin the hunt shown in the distance through the gap in the trees.

In the seventeenth-century Netherlands, hunting was a privilege not available to many. The picture would have been painted for an aristocratic collector for whom it was both a sport and a status symbol.

Jan Baptist Weenix was born in Amsterdam. He went to study in Rome for a few years in his youth, returning to the Netherlands to paint Italianate scenes of the mountainous Italian landscape lit by soft, mellow light.

Style: Baroque
Wouwerman's small painting of the Dutch landscape under a cloudy sky is full of incident: everywhere are little stories to tell, details to pick out. The landscape in the distance seems empty, but nearer to us people enliven the scene. Two horsemen studiously ignore the beggars who approach them, one with his hand held out. They're followed by a shadowy figure holding a sword and beyond, a man with a huge pack, perhaps a pedlar. Do the dogs gambolling down the dune belong to the riders, or to the man coming down the dune with a rabbit dangling from his stick -- and is he poacher or gamekeeper? A grand coach passes, and men fish in the river or shoot at birds hidden in the trees.

Most intriguing is the yacht on the left sailing serenely on the river. It appears to have a coat of arms on the stern -- perhaps it's making for the imposing house beyond the trees. But the man sailing it doesn't appear to have noticed the low-arched bridge, and even with the sail and mast lowered the boat's journey seems ill-fated.

Style: Baroque
Christ kneels in prayer and looks up at an angel who holds a chalice. This is the beginning of the Passion, when Christ prayed in the garden at Gethsemane: knowing that he is to die, Christ asks God to 'take this cup away from my lips'.

This very small painting has a decorative framing border showing the instruments of the Passion, including the nails, the crown of thorns and two scourges. The borders are much more coarsely painted than the central part, and may be on separate pieces of wood from the picture itself -- they may have been added later.

Together with its companion panel, Christ carrying the Cross, Christ at Gethsemane was made as part of the same ensemble. They were probably the wings of a small portable altarpiece, with a scene of the crucifixion (now lost) at the centre. Both pictures are described in the nineteenth century as having come from the Palazzo Medici-Riccardi in Florence. One source states that they were executed for the private chapel of Cardinal Giovanni di Lorenzo de’ Medici (1475–1521), afterwards Pope Leo X, in Florence.

Style: High Renaissance
At the age of twelve Jesus went with his parents to Jerusalem for the Passover. On their return they found he was not with them, and after searching they discovered him in the Temple involved in a learned debate with the Jewish scribes (Luke 2: 41-51). In this dramatic depiction of the story, the young Christ is shown at the centre of a group of older men, clearly engaged in an intense discussion. He appears to be counting off points on his fingers, as a bearded elder leans attentively to listen to  him. On the right a balding man holds open a book, and seems to be trying to attract the boy's attention; other groups of scholars cluster behind. In the background the Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph have returned to look for their missing son.

This painting has in the past been variously attributed to the Spaniard Francisco Herrera (1627--83), an imitator of Preti, and Juan Rizi (1600--81). It is now acknowledged as a fine example of Gregorio Preti's mature style. Gregorio's reputation has long been eclipsed by that of his younger brother Mattia, one of the foremost painters of the seventeenth century, to whom many of Gregorio's paintings -- this one included -- were formerly attributed.

By the 1650s Gregorio was making the transition to a High Baroque style. This composition is characteristic of his works of that decade: the number of figures is reduced, each one becoming more important, and the narrative is articulated by gesturing hands.

Style: Baroque, Academic
The boats crowded together on either side of Jan van de Cappelle’s painting are tough, working craft, made to carry goods and people along the coastline and the many waterways of Holland. Although the vessels are not glamorous in themselves, van de Cappelle has exaggerated the height of the masts and bathed the graceful folds of sails in warm sunlight to give the image its majesty. Its haunting quality comes from the stillness, the soft, muted colours and the luminous reflections.

Because the vessels are almost hidden in shadow, the eye is first drawn out through the narrow passage between them and across the calm estuary stretching far away towards the cobweb-fine towers of a distant town. But these boats are crowded with incident and activity for the patient eye to find. The ferryboat of the picture's title is probably the wijdschip with one sail draped like an elegant curtain and the other furled into a spiral. Its two blue and white flags suggest that it’s from Texel, a busy port in North Holland. Well-dressed people sit about on deck, waiting for the wind to start their journey. Men on the small barge in front of it unload goods, the bright red breeches of one of them enlivening the picture. To the right, a barge carrying the Dutch ensign is rowed out, perhaps to the ferry. On board are three black-clad officials, possibly lawyers, deep in conversation. Behind them people are crowded together under a canopy.

In front of this barge, close to us, is a pont, a flat-bottomed, inshore boat also often used as a ferry. It is long and heavy with a clumsy, almost homemade looking rudder. Its flag is probably the Hoorn ensign (also a city in North Holland, close to Texel). All the vessels tell something of life in Holland at the time, but this picture was painted around 1665, when Holland was in the middle of a bitter war with England. Hanging over the side and almost dipping into the water is a gold and white flag still on its pole. It’s placed with care and almost spotlit with a bright if mellow light. Behind it, among bundles of hay, is a cannon and a pair of cannon wheels. At least one of the men on board wears a gun belt.

Like other marine artists of the time, van de Cappelle painted incidents, characters and objects that might be unfamiliar to a modern audience but which would have been understood instantly by a contemporary one. But perhaps more than anecdotal detail, the artist’s real concern was the painting of atmosphere, with quiet water and the abstract beauty of changing light on masts, ropes and sails.

Style: Baroque
This is one of a series of four paintings by Veronese that concern the trials and rewards of love, although their precise meanings remain unclear. The compositions are designed to be seen from below so we know the pictures were intended for a ceiling or a series of ceilings. The paintings are recorded in 1648 in the collection of the Holy Roman Emperor in Prague. We do not know who commissioned them, but it is most likely that the Four Allegories of Love were painted for an Italian patron and were still in Italy in the 1620s, when Van Dyck recorded two of the compositions in his Italian sketchbook (British Museum, London).

It is possible that the paintings were made for the parallel suites of rooms of a husband and wife, two of the paintings for the reception room and bedchamber of the man and two for the equivalent rooms of his spouse.This painting and Scorn seem particularly intended for a male viewer.

Cupid drags a man in military costume by his phallic sword hilt towards a naked woman sleeping on a bed. Cupid’s golden arrow points rather crudely to the woman’s genitals, which are concealed by the red cloth over her leg. However, the man's companion pulls him away by his arm. The man's contorted pose suggests his dilemma -- he is being pulled in two different directions at the same time. The subject seems to concern sexual temptation and restraint. The title 'Respect' is not original and was only given to the painting in 1727, but it may be that the man decides to resist temptation out of respect for the woman because she is asleep.

The woman's chemise, embroidered with a pattern of black cross-stitch known as 'black work', and with a lace collar, appears to be discarded on the floor. It has been suggested that the glass beside the bed may indicate that the woman has been drinking, although there is no evidence that it is a wine glass. A fan is placed on the entablature above the bed. The mosaic scene in the arch has been identified as 'The Continence of Scipio' -- an episode during which the military leader Scipio Africanus exercised sexual restraint in returning a female prisoner of war untouched to her family. However, this identification is not certain.

The subject of this painting has long caused controversy. When the National Gallery acquired the set of four paintings from Lord Darnley in 1890 this one was held back and eventually given for free as it was considered distasteful for public money to be spent on a painting of a man apparently about to take advantage of a sleeping woman. Lord Darnley wrote: 'to tell the truth, I am only too glad to have 'le Respect', as it is so curiously designated, off my hands.'

Style: High Renaissance
The Intervention of the Sabine Women is one of a series of paintings that show scenes from ancient Roman history. They were made to decorate a room and were originally painted on panel, although they have since been transferred to canvas. Their size and horizontal format suggests they were probably intended to be inserted into wall panelling, as was common practice in Renaissance Venice.

Three other pictures in the series are in the National Gallery's collection: The Attack on Cartagena, The Continence of Scipio and The Rape of the Sabines. A further two pictures from the series, Coriolanus and Scipio rewarding the Soldiers, are in a private collection.

This painting shows the Sabine women attempting to prevent bloodshed as the Sabine men take revenge upon the Romans. The episode from ancient Roman mythology is related by the Roman author Livy. He tells how, shortly after the foundation of Rome by Romulus and his mainly male followers, the Romans tried to negotiate with the neighbouring Sabines to secure wives. The Sabine men refused, not wishing to further the power of a rival state. The Romans then organised a festival devoted to Neptune, which attracted visitors from surrounding nations, including the Sabines; at the signal from Romulus, the Romans grabbed the Sabine women and fought off their menfolk. Licinio depicted this episode in The Rape of the Sabines. Romulus implored the Sabine women to accept Roman husbands, promising them free will, civic and property rights.

Finally the Sabines declared war, entered the Roman citadel on the Capitoline Hill and overpowered the Romans. The Romans retreated to the gate of the Palatium, where Romulus rallied his troops and led them back into battle. However, when the leader of the Sabines was unhorsed and the Romans appeared to be winning, the Sabine women rushed onto the battlefield to hold apart the warring armies. This is the moment depicted in Licinio's painting. They implored their fathers among the Sabine forces and their husbands among the Roman troops not to spill each other’s blood, saying it would be better for themselves to be killed than to live widowed or fatherless. The battle came to an end and the Sabines agreed to live as one nation with the Romans. On the left we see the Roman and Sabine leaders making peace with one another.

The subject was popular during the Italian Renaissance for the decoration of marriage chests, known as cassoni, and the decoration of bedrooms, as it stressed the importance of marriage in the continuity of families and nations. It also offered the opportunity, as here, to depict both male and female figures in dynamic poses. As with The Rape of the Sabines, the appearance of this painting is affected by an old discoloured varnish.

Style: High Renaissance
Cornelis Decker is a little-known Dutch landscape painter who lived and worked in Haarlem, often painting in the manner of Jacob van Ruisdael -- as he does in this picture. It shows the view of a hilly landscape with trees tossing in the wind and a stream running through rocky terrain. On the hillside is a thatched cottage with a dovecote perched on top and a little family gathered at the door. Further down the slope, a horseman splashing through the water pauses to speak to a man with a dog. A second man runs ahead encouraging his hounds onward with a waving arm.

But Decker's work lacks the precision and drama of van Ruisdael's. There is little sense of movement, especially in the sky; the multiple shades of green that Ruisdael achieves are missing; and the rocks in the background have no real substance. For a comparison, look at van Ruisdael's A Waterfall in a Rocky Landscape or A Landscape with a Waterfall and a Castle on a Hill.

Style: Baroque