wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
Time has not been kind to Jan van Goyen’s river landscape, and his soft muted colours have been dimmed under a coat of yellowed varnish. But we sense the tranquillity of the scene -- the vast sky, the quiet ripple of the water under the small boat heading upriver and the patient cows cropping the grass close to us.

Passengers settle on the insubstantial-looking craft moored on the far bank, apparently unconcerned by the heavy wagon pulled by two horses on board. The little village between the trees seems to be a jumble of rooftops huddled together, culminating in the spire of the church piercing the clouds.

We don’t know if the painting depicts a particular Dutch village. It hasn’t been identified, but it is one of several versions of the same view painted by van Goyen during his career.

Style: Baroque
The story of Leda and the Swan is a Greek myth which exists in various versions. Leda, the wife of the king of Sparta, was loved by the god Jupiter (Zeus in Greek) who transformed himself into a swan and seduced her. As a consequence she gave birth to the twins Castor and Pollux, who were hatched from eggs.

This small erotic painting was clearly intended for a patron's private enjoyment. The subject had been popular in art since the Renaissance: a painting of the subject by Michelangelo, of which Leda and the Swan (also in the Gallery's collection) is a copy, was widely known through a sixteenth-century engraving by Cornelis Bos.

The poor condition of this picture makes it difficult to be certain that Mola painted it, but its style is close to that of his mature works. The best-preserved part of the picture is the landscape on the right, whose sensitive treatment of light may be compared with Mola's The Rest on the Flight into Egypt, also in our collection. The delicate vase of flowers in the foreground, the ornate bedcover and plump red cushion (whose colour has faded considerably over time) all add to the picture's decorative qualities.

Style: Baroque, Academic
Guardi's shimmering brushwork gives this picture a magical quality. On the far side of the square, the facade of the Basilica di San Marco -- the city's impressive cathedral -- glows, while to the left a blaze of sunlight warms the sky behind the Procuratie Vecchie, the offices of the Republic's administration.

Tremulous black lines and thin layers of freely applied paint dominated by subtle blue and brown tones describe the doorways, arches and other architectural details; the basilica seems almost to merge with the sky. Although the figures are depicted on a smaller scale than in his earlier picture, Venice: Piazza San Marco, you can still make out all the different types of people going about their everyday lives. To the right, a couple in the black coats and white masks worn during the Venice Carnival talk to a man in yellow. In the centre, a man seems to reach for a child's hand, while two dogs play in the sun nearby. Further back, market sellers stand beside their white tents.

A jagged, diagonal shadow cutting across the square, basilica, white canopies and several people gives liveliness to the composition. Other diagonals -- the rooflines of the buildings at each side of the square and the white stone lines on the pavement -- accentuate the recession of space and lead our eye towards the basilica. There are strong vertical lines, too, from the flag poles in front of the basilica and the arches of its facade to the elongated form of the campanile (bell tower).

During the 1770s there was a buoyant market for Guardi's Venetian cityscapes, which appealed to local collectors and tourists alike. The artist painted this view a number of times -- an earlier and larger version is also in the National Gallery's collection: Venice: Piazza San Marco. In the later work, the brushstrokes are looser and the colouring lighter, and Guardi has given more attention to the scene's atmosphere than to capturing its details.

Style: Neoclassical
Two young men stroll through the Italian countryside, one of them -- rather startlingly -- carrying a giant head. He is David; the head is from his defeated enemy, Goliath. The other man is probably David's friend Jonathan, son of Saul, King of the Israelites.

According to the Old Testament, David was left behind to mind the sheep when his older brothers went to join the Israelite army in battle against the Philistines. One day, taking food to his brothers, he heard the Philistines' great champion Goliath challenging any Israelite to single combat. None of them except David dared to volunteer, even though Saul was offering his daughter's hand in marriage to anyone who succeeded. Refusing to be given conventional armour, he killed Goliath with a stone flung from his sling -- you can see the empty sling hanging on his belt -- and then cut off the giant's head with his own sword. Here, David carries the blade over his shoulder.  After this David was made commander of Saul's armies and Jonathan became his friend. However, the King soon became jealous of the attention given to David, and tried to kill him with a spear, perhaps the one Jonathan carries in this painting.

We are not really sure who or what this small painting was made for. David's story was very popular at the time: it was an exciting tale -- as can be seen in Pesellino's The Story of David and Goliath -- but David was also understood as a forerunner and ancestor of Christ. David and Jonathan together is a rare subject, and the composition here is comparable with that traditionally used for depicting Tobias and the Angel, as in Andrea del Verrocchio's painting of the pair, or Cima da Conegliano's own version of about 1514--15 (now in the Galleria dell'Accademia, Venice). It is as if the artist was asked to paint something unusual, and so adapted a composition from a different story.

The rolling sunlit countryside dotted with medieval towns and villages is characteristic of Cima, and appears in other paintings by him such as The Virgin and Child. Richly contrasting colours -- red next to green, blue next to yellow -- are also very typical of Cima, and can also be seen in The Incredulity of Saint Thomas. The style of the panel suggests it was painted at around the same time as Saint Jerome in a Landscape.

The artist has used various tricks to create an illusion of depth. The road and the river converge, leading our eyes towards a single vanishing point, a technique known as linear perspective. This is combined with aerial perspective, where objects become more indistinct with distance and far off hills appear blue even though we know they are green.

The scale of the painting is similar to some of Cima's small mythological panels, such as his Silenus and the Satyrs (Philadelphia Museum of Art) and little paintings of Saint Jerome. Presumably this painting, like those, was made for private enjoyment.

Style: High Renaissance
A bearded man in a hair robe is being violently threatened by a horde of demonic creatures: a lion with horns; a man with claws and bat wings; a bizarre scaly quadruped with a lizard's tail, wings and a human head; and a monstrous face with fangs waving a snake. He has cast aside his book and is gazing up at the heavens for help, where Christ has appeared reclining on a cloud. The scene is set in front of the mouth of a cave, itself part of a broad landscape.

This small picture is one of a number of works on copper that Annibale Carracci painted shortly after his arrival in Rome in 1594, another being The Holy Family with the Infant Saint John the Baptist ('The Montalto Madonna'). It tells the story of the temptation of Saint Anthony Abbot, an early Christian monk and one of the so-called 'Desert Fathers' (hermits who lived ascetic lives in the deserts of third- and fourth-century Egypt). Anthony was famous for having resisted several attempts by the devil to shake him out of his monastic virtue. According to his contemporary biographer, Saint Athanasius, the devil first tried afflicting him with boredom, laziness and sexual fantasies; and, when these failed, resorted to beasts and monsters.

This dramatic subject proved irresistible to artists and was especially popular with Netherlandish and German painters such as Hieronymus Bosch and Martin Schongauer. In the sixteenth century northern artists living in Rome, such as Paul Bril and Adam Elsheimer, also painted versions of the scene, with which Annibale was perhaps familiar.

Annibale's version is a supreme example of compressed narrative, achieved through dramatic lighting and a tightly controlled composition. To compensate for the painting's vertical format he has built the composition on strong diagonals. The line of the saint's body is echoed by that of the demon, by the outline of the rock and by the figures of Christ and the angels hovering above. Colour and light are also used to elucidate the story. The subdued earthy tones of the landscape, Saint Anthony Abbot's hairy outfit and the flesh and fur of the monsters in the lower half, where dots of light glisten on teeth, eyes and claws, contrast vividly with the clear pink and blue of Christ's robes, the fluffy white clouds and golden hair of the angels in the upper part of the painting. A bright light falls from the right, at its strongest on Christ's legs and softer in tone as it illuminates the central monster's outstretched arm and clawed hand. The cave itself acts as a theatrical backdrop, pushing the principal characters to the front of the picture.

We are not sure who this work was painted for -- it was recorded in the Villa Borghese, Rome, in 1650, and was perhaps made for Cardinal Scipione Borghese, nephew of Pope Paul V. In 1672 the biographer Giovan Pietro Bellori described it enthusiastically in his list of paintings Annibale Carracci made for private clients.

Style: Baroque, Academic
This small devotional painting of the sorrowing Virgin forms a pair with the another panel in our collection, Christ Crowned with Thorns. They originally made up a diptych, possibly intended for private devotional use which was probably made in Dirk Bouts's workshop towards the end of his life.

The popularity of this kind of image was part of the great flowering of religious activity outside formal church worship which took place in the Netherlands in the fifteenth century. The Virgin is red-eyed and weeping. Her grief was intended to inspire empathy in the viewer who is encouraged, like her, to meditate upon the suffering of Christ at the Passion (his torture and crucifixion). The emotional intensity of this image was very popular, and numerous versions of it survive (many of a rather poor quality).

Although Netherlandish paintings were much admired all over Europe in the fifteenth century, by the eighteenth century they were out of fashion. Interest in so-called 'primitives' (early Netherlandish and Italian artists) revived in the nineteenth century. This painting once belonged to Prince Ludwig Kraft Ernst of Oettingen-Wallerstein and eventually passed to his cousin, Prince Albert. After Albert's death in 1862, 25 of the paintings were given to the National Gallery by Queen Victoria, in accordance with his wishes.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
The design of this tender image of the Virgin Mary with the Christ Child and an angel is derived from a painting by Fra Filippo Lippi, the Florentine painter and monk. It was obviously a popular composition in Florence in the mid-fifteenth century as there are numerous versions of it by different artists. It was also used by Botticelli, Lippi's pupil, in a painting now in the Museo di Capodimonte, Naples and by his contemporary Verrocchio in a picture in our collection.

We cannot identify the artist but he follows Lippi's style as well as his design closely: the semi-transparent veil with its rippling folds is particularly similar to Lippi's version, as are the thick blond waves of Christ's hair. The profile and positioning of Christ and the angel -- and his mauve draperies -- are very close to Botticelli's version of the subject.

As in Verrocchio's version, the architecture is an important feature of this work and the painter has taken care to ensure it is convincingly three-dimensional. If you look closely at the picture in raking light, you can see where he has incised guidelines to ensure that all the angles and straight lines are painted accurately. A deep archway known as a barrel vault frames the figures in the foreground and the landscape in the background. Its ceiling is coffered, meaning it is made up of sunken square panels -- a form of decoration found in many classical buildings. It was revived in the Renaissance for church architecture and so would have been familiar to worshippers.

The overall effect of the image is delicate and gentle -- the colours are limited to soft pastels, the fabrics are edged with gold detail and the haloes are created from tiny dots of gold. Pictures like this, which stressed the Virgin's maternal bond with the infant Christ, were popular for private worship in the home.

Style: Early Renaissance
We look down on a captivating crowd and across the Piazza San Marco, one of Venice's most famous landmarks. We are drawn into the scene by the large and brightly coloured group of people -- among them an elegant couple dressed in black carnival cloaks, a man in a pale yellow cloak with his dog, and traders with baskets of produce. Many figures have their backs to us, though we see the faces of a fashionable gentleman in a red cloak and powdered wig and a man, slightly further back, who walks towards us puffing on a long pipe. Warm sunlight picks out the vibrant colours of the figures' clothing and the billowing white clouds.

Guardi, like his near contemporary Canaletto, filled his work with detail: tent-like shelters of street vendors sit across the square and lines of washing are strung out across the facade of the Procuratie Vecchie on the left. But if you compare Guardi's paintings with those by Canaletto, it is apparent that his technique is very different. Guardi tended to use a much looser, less precise brushwork, evoking mood instead of meticulous detail.

This is among Guardi's earliest view paintings. Guardi has created a rhythm across the composition, emphasising the diagonals of the roofs on each side of the square and the faint white lines on the ground, although there are disparities in scale: the foreground figures are not in proportion with the arches of the colonnades and the people emerging from the shops and cafes within them. This rigid symmetry is offset with the strong shadow cast by the building on the right, the Procuratie Nuove, which leads us towards the base of the campanile (bell tower) and also focuses attention on the basilica. The mosaics on its facade shine the brightest as they catch the light while its domes glow silver.

This popular view was repeated many times by Guardi and Canaletto, with slight variations in the composition -- see Canaletto's Venice: Piazza San Marco and Venice: Piazza San Marco and the Colonnade of the Procuratie Nuove. This picture was actually given to the National Gallery as a work by Canaletto, although Guardi's signature does appear on a piece of wood being carried by a man at the far right. Around 20 years later Guardi made a smaller, more luminous view of the same scene, painted with greater freedom.

Style: Neoclassical
Two slender candles, flames extinguished, smoulder on Christ's tomb. Christ is shown after his death, his emaciated body propped up against the back edge of the tomb, his hand lying limp upon the marble. This type of image was sometimes known as the 'Imago Pietatis' ('image of pity'), or Pietà.

Standing behind a parapet are Saint Jerome, who cradles Christ's head, and Saint John the Baptist. Saint Jerome wears the cowl (hooded cloak) of a hermit over blue robes, a reminder to contemporary viewers of the saint's time in the desert, where, in contemplation of Christ's suffering at the Crucifixion, he practised self-flagellation, beating his chest with a rock in empathy with Christ. Saint John the Baptist also spent time in the wilderness, preaching about Christ. According to the Gospel of John, he ate only locusts and honey, and wore a rough camel-skin tunic. In this painting, tufts of hair peek out of the inner face of his tunic.

The choice of saints is fitting for this kind of image, which was intended to promote empathy with the suffering of Christ, but it is unusual: it was more common for Christ to be shown propped up by angels, as in Giovanni Bellini's picture in our collection and in another Pietà by Zoppo in the Musei Civici, Pesaro. There are no earlier examples with saints in the Veneto region of Italy, where these kinds of images were particularly popular. The saints' direct communication with Christ here transforms the image into a sacra conversazione ('holy conversation'), an innovative format in the late fifteenth century. The direct interaction between Jerome and Christ is comparable to Ercole's panel from the diptych made for Eleonora of Aragona, the Duchess of Ferrara.

Images of the dead Christ often formed the uppermost part of a  polyptych, such as Giorgio Schiavone's panel in our collection. This one, however, has a pattern on the reverse which imitates the precious red and white stone called porphyry, used for decoration in ancient Rome. This suggests that the panel was intended to be held and moved around, rather than viewed only from the front. It was probably made for private prayer.  We do not know who commissioned the picture but it was probably made in Venice, where Zoppo would have seen examples of the type by Bellini.

The soft folds of the fabrics in pastel colours, which appear luminous as they reflect the light, are characteristic of Zoppo's unique style and reflect his skill as a draughtsman who could create clear and crisp designs full of graceful, flowing curves.

Style: Early Renaissance
A pair of good-humoured and energetic musicians are visiting an inn -- the sign hanging outside shows a jug and a pair of compasses. One plays a bagpipe, the other a fiddle. The picture is an example of an eighteenth-century German painter imitating a seventeenth-century Dutch artist; in this case, the composition is based on a work by Adriaen van Ostade, a well-known painter of everyday scenes, and it is painted in his style. Dietrich most probably knew van Ostade's version from an engraving.

Dietrich has signed the work at the bottom right-hand corner and dated it 1745 (he later made an etching of the composition). His friend, the engraver Jean-George Wille, owned the painting and it became well known through a print that he made from it. Wille asked Dietrich for a pendant (a painting to pair it with) in 1761, and the artist gave him a picture of a woman selling pancakes (now lost). Wille also engraved this second work.

Style: Baroque
Willem van Herp’s picture is small, but the composition has a monumental feel to it. A group of Franciscan friars stand on a set of steps that are part of the classical architecture, handing out bread to the poor; the most prominent of them is thought to be Saint Anthony of Padua. Anthony, a Portuguese priest who did many good works in Italy, became a venerated Franciscan saint, canonised immediately after his death. Here, the subtle glimmer of divine light around his head makes him stand out among the other tonsured friars in their brown habits.

Judging by the reactions of the crowd, the friars’ charity is much needed. On the left, two young children eagerly accept the bread, while two dogs turn their attention to a loaf that has landed on the floor. A mother and child directly in front of Saint Anthony reach out to him with urgency, as does the older man stood next to them. Another man approaches the friars from the right, helped by the barefoot boy who clutches the hem of his coat; the man appears to be blind, and van Herp took great care in portraying him. His eyes are closed and he finds direction using his walking stick, assisted by the boy. An infant held by the woman dressed in red seems struck by his appearance and intensity. For a contemporary audience, the addition of this figure would have emphasised the friars' piety, as the Bible recounts how Christ healed blind people who came to the Temple in Jerusalem.

A large quantity of works by van Herp survive, which means he must have worked at great pace. Small religious scenes on copper, such as this one, were his trademark, and many of these pictures eventually ended up on the Spanish market through the dealer Matthijs Musson, who employed van Herp for a period. Many of his pictures exist in multiple versions. Working in Antwerp, van Herp enjoyed making copies and pastiches of paintings by his great contemporaries in that city, notably Rubens and Van Dyck, but also Gerard Seghers and Jan Boeckhorst. Besides working on his own pictures, van Herp also made a living painting so-called staffage figures (secondary individual and animals in landscape paintings).

Style: Baroque
This is one of a pair of panels from a piece of painted furniture, a cassone (large chest). They tell the story of the Roman Emperor Trajan, widely known from Jacopo da Voragine’s Golden Legend of about 1260 and retold by Dante in the Divine Comedy in the early fourteenth century.

As Trajan prepared to leave for a military campaign, a widow asked for justice for her son, who had been killed by Trajan’s own son. He promised this on his return, but, after she pointed out that he might not come back, he duly held a court. Here, in the first scene in the story, the mounted Emperor, dressed in mail and with a crown, is riding out of the gate of a city accompanied by his soldiers. The distressed widow points to the body of her son, which lies in the road. Trajan's followers throw their hands up in horror at the sight of the child.

Cassoni were often associated with weddings: they were part of the household furniture a groom was expected to fit out his home with in preparation for his new bride's arrival. Although the stories told here might seem ill-suited to such a setting, the tale had a happy ending: Trajan married his son to the widow in recompense for her loss. This was perhaps shown on the front of the chest, as on a cassone panel of around 1450 by Giovanni di Ser Giovanni (Lo Scheggia), now in a private collection.

Style: Early Renaissance