wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
Painted at the height of Claude’s success in 1646, this is one of several paintings by him that illustrate the story of Hagar. In the book of Genesis (21: 15--19), Hagar, an Egyptian servant girl, gives birth to a child by Abraham. She quarrels with his wife, Sarah, who is childless, and runs away. Here, Claude captures Hagar’s moment of suffering and despair: having run out of water in the wilderness, she has left her son, Ishmael, under a bush and is praying for God's salvation.

In the Bible, this scene is set in the desert, but Claude depicts a verdant landscape. According to the story, an angel appears to Hagar and gives her water, but Claude shows a substantial river in the background. Pointing towards a distant town, the angel encourages Hagar to return to Sarah and Abraham. With the other hand, the angel points towards her, conveying God’s promise that Ishmael will become a great leader.

The angel’s clothing was originally painted yellow which is now barely visible. Instead we see the blue layer painted underneath. The angel’s wings have also lost some of their vibrant colour over time.

The story of Hagar was frequently portrayed in seventeenth-century Dutch art, particularly by Rembrandt and his followers. In their paintings the landscape is less important and the figures of Hagar and the angel are usually shown at close range. In Claude’s painting, the landscape is the most dominant and engaging aspect of the composition, and draws our eye through to the distant buildings that convey a sense of distance and scale. This tranquil scene, bathed in hazy sunlight, celebrates the beauty of the countryside outside Rome, where Claude spent most of his life. A similar composition is included in Claude’s Liber Veritatis, a collection of drawings made after his paintings, although this scene is placed in a horizontal format, there is no boat and the bridge has an additional arch.

The British landscape painter John Constable greatly admired this painting, which he saw when it was in the collection of his patron Sir George Beaumont. The vertical format and use of trees to frame the foreground influenced Constable's Dedham Vale painted in 1802 (Victoria and Albert Museum, London). George Beaumont is said to have enjoyed Claude's painting so much that he took it with him wherever he travelled, and when he gave his collection to the National Gallery in 1826 he asked to keep it until his death.

Style: Baroque, Academic
One of Gabriel Metsu’s great strengths as an artist was his ability to absorb ideas and influences from other artists. He was also adaptable, able to work across several of the many genres popular at the time -- portraits, history paintings, still-life paintings and scenes of amorous intrigue. This picture is an interesting example of how he put that adaptability to use.

It can be dated to around 1660, about three years after Metsu moved to Amsterdam from his native Leiden. There, he had probably been trained by, and certainly knew, the artist Gerrit Dou. Dou had recently found success with a series of 'niche paintings' -- scenes, sometimes portraits, often of shops or tradespeople who were portrayed in a grand architectural frame, like the stone arch we see here. There's an example in our collection: A Poulterer's Shop.

This is an unusual genre. While the details and the figures are extremely realistic, it is clear that the scene is far from being 'real'. A typical Leiden tradesman would not have displayed their produce in such a grand and formal setting. But it was one which proved popular, with its distinctive device which allowed the artist to give a greater sense of depth to the painting. The bird cage, the paper protruding over the sill and the vine growing around the arch all seem to come forward into our space. A dramatic shaft of light which highlights the objects and figures in the foreground intensifies this illusion. Meanwhile, the old woman’s chair, and the shadowy fireplace, help draw our eye deep into the background.

We can’t be absolutely sure that this painting was made after, rather than before, Dou’s development of the niche device. It is highly likely, however, that Metsu is borrowing from him -- presumably because he saw potential demand for this new genre. He has created a very different atmosphere though. The attention to fine detail -- especially the sheen on the metal pestle and mortar, and the worn pages of the book -- is typical of Dou’s painting style. But where Dou’s figures are usually lively and animated, Metsu’s old lady is absorbed and reflective. Perhaps she is daydreaming, distracted from her book, or, more likely, considering what she has just read. The pestle and mortar, the flagon and the book in front of her suggest that she has some connection with the medicinal arts. She may be a herbalist pondering a recipe for a concoction. The piece of paper in the foreground once had an inscription which might have made her occupation clear, but it is now worn and damaged; only one or two letters can be made out.

Style: Baroque
The picture has been transferred from its original panel and placed onto a canvas, a process that has damaged the paint surface. Nevertheless, the composition, where the Virgin is placed behind a ledge and in front of a cloth, shows Montagna's artistic debt to his teacher Giovanni Bellini. The sheen on the Virgin's headdress as it drapes over her shoulder, catching the light, is also inspired by Bellini.

The Virgin is shown worshipping the Christ Child as he sleeps. Christ's swaddling covers only half of his body and is intended to remind the viewer of a burial shroud; his pose -- slumped against the marble wall, legs extended across the ledge -- is supposed to recall his dead body in the tomb. The viewer is reminded that he is not an ordinary baby but the Son of God whose death, Christians believe, was for their salvation.

Style: High Renaissance
Anna Maria van Schurman (1607--1678) was one of the most important thinkers of her day. She was 42 when this portrait was made and well known in European intellectual circles, corresponding with people like the statesman, poet and composer Constantijn Huygens and the French philosopher René Descartes.

Taught Latin by her father, she was given special permission to attend lectures at the university of her home town, Utrecht, in 1636. She was the first woman in the Netherlands to attend university, though she had to sit behind a screen so that male students were not distracted by her. Among her best known publications was her Dissertatio of 1641, a defence of the education of women, and a later work on a similar theme, The Learned Maid or, Whether a Maid may be a Scholar.

She was well known as a poet, spoke 14 languages and was an accomplished artist. In 1642 was admitted to the Utrecht artists’ guild as a 'painter, sculptor and engraver'. She never married, apparently more interested in her studies and, especially during the last decade of her life, religion. She lost many of her intellectual friends when she became a member of the separatist Labadist movement, which followed the fundamentalist Christian teachings of a defrocked French priest, Jean de Labadie.

Here, however, Lievens, who was the same age as van Schurman, was painting her at the peak of her fame. He focuses on her status as a writer. She sits upright and looks at us directly and confidently, modestly but expensively dressed in a fur wrap and chemise. It’s hard to see but, held in place with a ring of pearls, there is also a black veil covering her hair -- a sign of piety.

Lievens portrays her in an active, not reflective, light. The book which she holds -- keeping some pages with the fingers of her left hand -- has, or at least appears to have, blank pages. So she is not reading, but about to write: her pen and inkstand stand ready before her on the oriental rug which covers her desk. It may be that Lievens had been commissioned to make this painting to be engraved and published as one of a series of portraits of illustrious figures. Van Dyck had contributed to a similar project, his famous 'Iconography' of 100 of the most significant monarchs, diplomats, artists and scholars of the day, which had been published in 1645--6.

The date (1649) and Lievens’ initials, inscribed just to the left of her right arm, are authentic, but the name at the top of the picture is a later addition. However, it looks like other known portraits of van Schurman and the ink, pen and book add further weight to the identification.

Style: Baroque
Lawrence has depicted the 16-year old Emily Lamb as though in motion, her head turning back towards the viewer. Her lips are slightly parted as though she is about to speak to us. The pose is one with a long tradition in the history of portraiture, but Lawrence has treated it with a freshness reflected in the informality and economy of his brushwork. The dynamic, fleeting pose and sketchy brushwork capture the spirited young girl whom her brother William called 'that little devil Emily'.

Prior to its acceptance by the National Gallery under the Acceptance in Lieu scheme, this intimate portrait had never been on public display, having always remained with the sitter's descendants. In contrast to the Gallery's other more formal and full-length portraits by Lawrence, such as Queen Charlotte, John Julius Angerstein, aged about 55 and John Julius Angerstein, aged over 80, this portrait exemplifies Lawrence's influential and more informal portraits of families and children.

Emily was born in 1787 to Peniston Lamb, 1st Earl Melbourne, and his wife Elizabeth (née Milbanke). The couple are portrayed in Stubbs's The Milbanke and Melbourne Families of about 1769, which is also in the Gallery's collection.

At the age of 18 Emily married Peter Leopold Clavering-Cowper, 5th Earl Cowper, and went on to become an influential, politically prominent society hostess. Emily was one of the patronesses of the highly exclusive Almack's club in London, which admitted both ladies and gentlemen and held balls on Wednesday evenings. She was noted not only for her beauty but also for her extraordinary charm and joyousness.

Emily had five children -- three boys and two girls. Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston, was a regular guest at Emily's parties and salons, and as Emily's husband Lord Cowper became increasingly unwell, Lady Cowper and Lord Palmerston became lovers. In 1837, Lord Cowper died, leaving the way open for Emily and Palmerston to marry. However, Emily's family considered their ages a problem and the matter was referred to Queen Victoria. Palmerston was 55 and Lady Cowper was 52 when they married on 16 December 1839. Lord Shaftesbury said: 'His attentions to Lady Palmerston, when they both of them were well stricken in years, were those of a perpetual courtship. The sentiment was reciprocal; and I have frequently seen them go out on a morning to plant some trees, almost believing that they would live to eat the fruit, or sit together under the shade.'

Lord Palmerston served twice as Prime Minister between 1855 and 1858 and again from 1859 to 1865.  Emily's brother, Viscount Melbourne, also served as Prime Minister (in 1834 and from 1835 to 1841).

Style: Academic, Romantic, Georgian
We look through a gilded arch into a small curved space, perhaps an apsidal chapel, in which the Virgin Mary is breastfeeding the Christ Child to an angelic musical accompaniment. She cradles him in her arms, and looks down affectionately as he hungrily squeezes her breast.

Mary wears a blue underdress open at the neck to reveal her linen shift and with tight sleeves flecked with gold. Over this is a pale purplish blue robe, with gold edging on the deep sleeves, and a blue cloak of the same colour; they fall in deep sculptural folds at her feet. Her long loose hair is a sign both of her virginity and her royalty. Tiny golden rays form an aureole -- a circle of radiating lines -- around her head. To her right, an angel plucks at a lute with a plectrum. To her left another plays the harp.

This is one of around 60 versions so far discovered of a very famous image, Virgin in an Apse, painted by Robert Campin, possibly in 1420. The original is lost, and most of the versions appear to have been painted at the end of the fifteenth or in the sixteenth century. All the surviving compositions are slightly different, so it is hard to work out what the original looked like, but this seems to be quite a faithful copy: it is similar to other early versions, such as one in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

The panel was presumably meant to be shown on a wall, as there are no traces of ground or paint on the back. The frame is original and its structure similar to that of a group of fifteenth- and sixteenth-century frames which we know were made in Brussels. Its black and gold paint, although not original, might mimic the original colour scheme. Hinges have been fixed into each side of it. These are old but not necessarily original: they are badly placed and wings attached to them would have strained the joints of the frame.

Much remains to be discovered about the Virgin in an Apse. The 'apse' itself and the upraised little finger of the Virgin's left hand remain mysterious, but the most baffling question is why this composition should have enjoyed such immense popularity. The original, or one of the versions, may perhaps have been associated with a miracle. If the miracle took place towards the end of the fifteenth century, that would explain why so many versions were produced in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries.

Style: High Renaissance
The male saint on the left is Valerian holding the blue and white standard of Forlì. The male saint on the right is Mercurialis, first bishop of Forlì, holding the red and white banner of the Guelphs (a political faction). Between them the design is unusual, with Saint John, the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene apparently in the tomb.

This was the lunette over an altarpiece of 'Christ giving the Sacrament to the Apostles' (Forlì, Pinacoteca).

Style: High Renaissance
Sir Thomas Lawrence is generally regarded as one of the finest European portraitists of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries and this informal and arresting portrait of the politician Peniston Lamb (1770–1805) shows off his precocious powers at the start of his career.

Peniston Lamb was the oldest child and first son of Peniston Lamb, 1st Viscount Melbourne (1748–1828), and his wife Elizabeth (1749–1818), daughter of Sir Ralph Milbanke, 5th Baronet, of Halnaby Hall Yorkshire. Lamb was the Member of Parliament for Newport from 1793 to 1796 and the Member for Hertfordshire from 1802 until his death from tuberculosis in January 1805. He remained unmarried and was described as 'gentle-hearted and engaging’. The Gallery’s group portrait of the Milbanke and Melbourne families by George Stubbs includes portraits of both Peniston Lamb’s parents, Lord and Lady Melbourne: Lady Melbourne is presumed to be shown on horseback because she was expecting Peniston Lamb, her first child. The Gallery also owns a portrait by Lawrence of Peniston Lamb’s sister, Emily, aged sixteen.

The format of this present portrait is simple, yet effective. Lawrence has positioned his subject with his head angled as though he is turning to look at us and, in doing so, Lamb's left eye is placed at the exact midpoint of the canvas. The darkly impressionistic background includes on the left a cord and tassel from a curtain which partly frames the sitter in the manner of a painted oval – the young Lawrence seems to have taken this visual device from Van Dyck, whose work he studied closely.

As a sought-after society portraitist, Lawrence knew how to flatter his sitters. However unprepossessing he might have been in person, in Lawrence's portrait Lamb is both elegant and striking. His hair is powdered grey, and his dark red coat, perhaps of velvet, with its dandy-like collar is the height of contemporary fashion. Always technically brilliant, Lawrence speedily and dexterously applied paint to suggest the contrasting textures of hair, coat and cravat, and used his idiosyncratically confident and expressive brushwork to convey the sitter's youthful good looks and aloof and enquiring character. Lamb's skin is pale and smooth and his rosebud lips sensuously parted, yet his eyes dart sideways to look challengingly at the viewer under a deft sweep of arched eyebrow. The voluptuous cravat tumbling from his neck and the ruffled hair provide a hint of informality and intimacy. The result is that the viewer is struck by a sense of momentary and fleeting engagement with the sitter as he turns to consider us. The encounter is made all the more engaging by the contrast in light, as the top-lit figure emerges from a gloomy backdrop; his illuminated face framed by the white highlights of his necktie and powdered hair.

In its directness of glance and characterisation, as well as the elevated level of its painting technique, the portrait of Peniston Lamb has much in common with the modernity of European portraiture of the period, particularly in France and in Spain, by artists such as Jacques-Louis David and Francisco de Goya.

Style: Academic, Romantic, Georgian
The Venetian Arsenal, a fortified shipyard and armoury, had been celebrated as a symbol of the Venetian Republic's domination of the Mediterranean sea trade since the twelfth century. Here we see the main gateway, its classical columns and pediments decorated with statues of Greek and Roman gods, whose attributes are symbols of war, victory, justice and wealth. Standing guard is a majestic lion, the symbol of Saint Mark, patron saint of Venice. Other statues of lions crouch, appearing ready to pounce on intruders and saboteurs. The bronze flagstaff in the centre of the square was installed in 1693 to commemorate Doge Francesco Morosini's naval victories against the Turkish empire from 1688 to 1694.

High, heavily guarded walls once shielded the Arsenal from public view, but the open window to the left and people coming out of the gate suggest that the once formidable security has been relaxed. In its heyday the Arsenal was a powerful, self-contained community of shipbuilders and labourers; by the mid-eighteenth century, Venice was no longer such a great sea power, and shipbuilding was in a state of decline. Here, the Arsenal is depicted as part of a picturesque scene rather than a vital part of the economy, though during Guardi's lifetime the city's ports and harbours remained lively trading hubs. Venetians, tourists, seamen and traders gather in leisurely groups, but a hoisted bridge and large barge being pulled along the canal hint that everyday business continues.

Painted in around 1755/60 as one of Guardi's earliest views, this composition is based on etchings by his near contemporaries Luca Carlevarijs and Michele Marieschi. Guardi likely derived his composition for Venice: The Grand Canal with Palazzo Pesaro from a design by Marieschi, but the main source of inspiration for many of his paintings was Canaletto. Here, Guardi leaves us in no doubt as to who painted this work: his signature appears on a cartellino or scroll attached to the plinth below the main lion.

Style: Rococo, Neoclassical
This small oil painting is typical of the still lifes which, together with genre scenes of everyday life, formed the core of Bonvin’s art, although in later life he also painted landscapes such as The Meadow. His still lifes often include objects associated with a particular profession. The two coins and what might be a ledger book suggest bookkeeping is the profession here. Inkwells, quill pens, books and papers all appear in pictures of schoolboys, often working at their desks, which Bonvin painted between 1873 and 1879 (the period when this still life was completed), but the spectacles imply an adult is using the items we see here.

Bonvin’s paintings recall those of Chardin in the previous century, but also show his familiarity with seventeenth-century Dutch and Spanish painting. This picture is unusual as it is painted on zinc, but the carefully modulated lighting and subtle use of warm complementary colours are characteristic of Bonvin.

Style: Realist
This is a cassone, or wedding chest,  a traditional part of the furnishing of a wealthy Renaissance home. Pairs of chests were  often purchased by the groom as part of the 'counter-dowry', and then placed in his chamber to store linen and fine clothes. They were expensive and prestigious items, and were handed down as heirlooms from generation to generation.

The scenes painted on cassoni were often drawn from classical literature or the Bible, and ancient legends and heroes were selected as appropriate for a wedding -- as in Story of David Panels from a Pair of Cassoni (?) -- or to illustrate particular virtues. Florentines were very interested in Roman history and the story chosen for this chest was taken from Livy's History of Rome. It tells how a schoolmaster from Falerii tried to betray his city by offering a besieging Roman general a group of children as hostages. The general was shocked at such behaviour and refused to take them. Both children and master were returned to Falerii, where the citizens, impressed by the general's honourable behaviour, promptly surrendered the city.

In the centre of the panel you can see the schoolmaster, in a red gown and hat, leading the children out of the city gates and through the hills to the Roman camp. On the right he kneels before the general, Camillus, and offers him the hostages; on the left, Camillus receives the key to the city from a group of elders. In the background, inside the walls of the city, the citizens beat the treacherous schoolmaster as punishment.

Although drawn from classical literature, the story has been reworked to make it appealing and meaningful to contemporary Italians -- everyone is in versions of fifteenth-century dress, and Falerii is shown as a walled medieval town rather than a classical city. Given their original position near the floor, cassone pictures may well have been used as moral exempla for children, to give examples of honourable behaviour and to teach them what would be expected of them as adults.

Although cassoni were made throughout Italy, they have been particularly associated with Tuscany and Florence. The artist, the so-called Master of Marradi, was a close follower of Domenico Ghirlandaio and specialised in depicting historical scenes with figures in contemporary dress. There are examples of his cassoni panels in Harewood House, Yorkshire, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York and elsewhere.

This panel was originally very bright in colour: the silver and gold of the soldiers' armour and the horses' harnesses (now discoloured) are decorated with punch marks, which would have shone and glimmered by candle light.

Style: Early Renaissance