wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
This panel and The Dominican Blessed: Outer Right Pilaster Panel framed the predella of the altarpiece made for the church of San Domenico, Fiesole, near Florence, on either side. Visually they were a continuation of the predella, but they were actually painted on the bases of the pilaster panels. We know this because the grain of the wood they are painted on is vertical, like that of the pilasters. This panel was on the left pilaster, and so on the right hand of Christ on the central predella panel: this was the most honourable position.

This panel follows the pattern of the predella panels by arranging the figures in three rows, with the women kneeling on the bottom row.  The figures were important members of the Dominican community, known as the 'Beati' ('Blessed'). The Blessed were recognised as having lived exceptionally holy lives and were venerated locally; some would eventually become saints. For now, though, they do not have haloes like saints. Instead, golden rays shine around their heads.

The artist has painted the male Blessed as individuals: some are young; some have tanned skin; others are older with white hair. They all have tonsures -- partially shaven heads, a sign of piety -- and wear the black and white habit of the Dominican Order. Small, neat writing on their tunics tells us who they are (a 'b' for Beatus, followed by their name) but they also carry objects that help identity them. At the far left, an older man carries a skull and a book; his tunic is inscribed 'b.iodan', and he might be Blessed Jordan of Pisa. Next to him is Blessed Vincent Ferrer, carrying a book and a flame, who was canonised (made a saint) in 1455. In the top row Blessed Jacob scratches the name of Christ onto his chest in blood. Some of the Blessed were martyred for their faith and so are shown holding palms, a symbol of martyrdom.

The nun who fronts the bottom row, raising her hand towards the central image of Christ, is labelled as 'b.magaita', or Margarita. She may be Margaret of Hungary, who bore the stigmata (the wounds of Christ) on her hands, a sign of her holiness. Here, we can see they give out golden rays of light.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
Very few paintings by Huber survive and this is the only one in a British public collection. The subject of Christ bidding farewell to his mother, the Virgin Mary, as he heads to Jerusalem to face his arrest, trial and death is not recorded in the Gospels. But from 1500 it was a very popular image in northern Europe, and particularly in southern Germany, where Wolf Huber and his contemporary Albrecht Altdorfer lived.

This is a fragment of a larger painting which has been cut at the right edge -- only Christ's hands and part of his long crimson robe remain. The main focus of the image is the swooning Virgin Mary, who has collapsed into the arms of her companions. The composition, with the holy women to the left and Christ standing to the right, is similar to a version of the scene by Altdorfer: Christ taking Leave of his Mother.

Dendrochronology has revealed that the wooden panel on which the image is painted comes from a tree that was felled in 1508. Panels were usually painted ten years after the tree was cut down, so it is likely this work was painted in around 1520. Here Huber has developed an earlier version of the same subject that he made in 1519 (Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna), which shows a broader view of the figures, with Mary kneeling, begging Christ not to leave. The smaller scale of those figures means that there is less focus on their facial expressions, while in this picture he has described the women’s grief more clearly with a close-up view. He seems to have reused the grouping of the women from our picture in his Lamentation (mourning over Christ's body) dated to 1524 (Louvre, Paris), in which the woman leaning forward on the left is substituted by Saint John the Evangelist in a similar pose.

Huber was skilled at expressing emotion through gesture and this is probably his most expressive and dramatic image. He may have been inspired by Altdorfer's painting, which was made slightly earlier, in both the arrangement of the figures and the nervous energy expressed through the rippling drapery folds; those around the Virgin's neckline are by far the most agitated, as in Altdorfer's version.

The original function of the painting is not yet known, but its large size suggests it was made for a public setting. It might have formed part of a funerary monument--there are contemporary examples of sculptures of the same subject adorning tombs.

Style: High Renaissance
This is one of the panels that decorated the bedroom of Pierfrancesco Borgherini in the Borgherini palace in Florence. They tell the story of Joseph from the Old Testament and were probably originally set into furniture. The group of pictures by Florentine painters is known as The Story of Joseph: Scenes from the Borgherini Bedchamber and includes panels by Bacchiacca and Pontormo in the National Gallery's collection. Granacci and Andrea del Sarto also contributed to the decorative scheme, which would have been one of the most sumptuous of the time.

This scene comes after Joseph sold to Potiphar. Joseph was his father's favourite son with a coat of many colours, but he was sold into slavery by his jealous half-brothers and taken to Egypt. Bought by Potiphar, the head of Pharaoh's guard, Joseph became overseer of Potiphar's household. However, when he refused the sexual advances of Potiphar's wife she falsely accused him of rape, and he was thrown into jail.

When in prison Joseph interpreted the dreams of Pharaoh's butler and baker, who had been imprisoned for offending him. Joseph foresaw that the butler would be reinstated but the baker would be hanged. Here the baker is taken from prison (top right) and led to execution (right), while the butler is shown descending the staircase and serving Pharaoh (bottom left).

Like Joseph with Jacob in Egypt, the composition is structured on a staircase as a continuous narrative -- with several scenes shown simultaneously. The setting is a strange unpaved space where Pharaoh, wearing a blue turban, is dining with a woman. A statue of an old man pointing to the open page of his book towers over them on a column at the foot of the staircase. He may be an Old Testament prophet but his identity is unclear. The indeterminate setting, limited depth and prominent staircase give the painting an unsettling feeling, which reflects Pontormo's interest in the new Mannerist style -- a reaction against the naturalism of the High Renaissance -- which was becoming fashionable in Florence at the time.

Joseph had asked the butler to mention him to Pharaoh and secure his release, but the butler forgot. Joseph remained in prison for another two years until Pharaoh himself had a dream of seven fat cows and seven lean cows, which none of his advisers could interpret. The butler remembered Joseph, who advised Pharaoh to store grain because seven plentiful years would be followed by seven years of famine. The next part of the story is told in Joseph's Brothers beg for Help.

Style: High Renaissance, Mannerist
In 1999 this panel was reunited with its pair, an image of the Virgin and Child. Together they formed a diptych, a painting made of two panels joined with a hinge.

Christ is shown just after his death at the Crucifixion, though the Cross behind him is mostly obscured by his large halo. We can see bloody wounds on the backs of his hands, caused by the nails that secured him to the Cross. The holes are brown while the blood dripping from them is bright red, and Christ's skin has the green tone of a corpse. The inscription at the top of the Cross is in Latin and means 'Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews'; according to the Gospels it was nailed there to mock Christ (John 19:19). Two angels in the upper corners cover their eyes in despair, emphasising the horror of the sight and provoking the same reaction from the viewer.

The image of the dead Christ shown as a half-length figure with head drooping and arms crossed like this is called the Man of Sorrows. Its origins lie in Byzantine painting (the art of the Eastern Christian empire) but it became very popular in the west in the thirteenth century. The earliest Italian versions of it can be found in manuscript illuminations dating to the second half of the thirteenth century. The Man of Sorrows was popular with the Franciscan Order as they were devoted to the contemplation of Christ's suffering and wounds.

Cleaning the picture revealed that the Cross had been painted with three tones of brown, which might represent the three different trees from which it was thought to be made: fir, palm and cypress, according to the writer Gregory of Viterbo. The three types of wood were interpreted as symbolising the Trinity. Fragments of a fresco of the Deposition, by the Master of Saint Francis in the lower church of the Franciscan church at Assisi in central Italy, also show a Cross painted with three different types of brown. This effect is also found on Crucifixion scenes made in the Latin Kingdom of Jerusalem where, in the thirteenth century, there were many Franciscans, after the Fourth Crusade of 1204.

The strong presence of the Franciscan Order in the Holy Land meant they were familiar with Byzantine imagery which circulated there. Like the Virgin and Child on the opposite panel, this picture seems to have been copied very closely from another picture -- possibly a Byzantine original. Infrared reflectography shows that the design, including the waves of the hair and the beard, was carefully incised with a sharp tool before painting began.

Style: Gothic
This is the only surviving predella scene of Raphael's Ansidei Altarpiece for the Ansidei chapel in S. Fiorenzo, Perugia. The main panel of the altarpiece, The Ansidei Madonna, is also in the National Gallery's collection.

The predella would have been situated beneath the main panel of the altarpiece. It was usual for the predella to depict narrative scenes of the lives of the saints and holy figures featured in the main panel above. This scene would have been placed beneath the figure of John the Baptist. Below Saint Nicholas was a shipwreck, relating to one of his posthumous miracles; that scene seems not to have survived. The scenes were most likely painted on a single horizontal plank of wood, after the predella was already framed.

Here John the Baptist appears as the forerunner of Christ, standing on a hillock preaching to a crowd of men (Luke 3: 1--17). He can be identified by his traditional camel-skin costume, which he wears beneath a billowing red mantle, and by the thin reed cross held in his left hand. He points towards heaven, referring to the coming of Christ. When the altarpiece was intact, he would also have been pointing to the identically dressed Baptist in the main panel above, who points towards the infant Christ.

The main focus of the scene is on the crowd and their varying reactions to John the Baptist's message. His audience is arranged into four groups, differentiated not only by their varied poses but also by their different costumes and expressions. Raphael has used a wide range of clear bright colours, disposed in a lively rhythm across the panel. No single figure wears the same combination of colours. The shapes of the hats are also particularly varied, enhancing the individuality of the figures. The man in purple in the front row listens with rapt attention whereas the fat man in yellow at the back sticks his thumb in his belt and turns with his hand on his hip to his companion with an expression of scepticism. The range of characterisation suggests that Raphael had seen the lively crowd scenes in the prints of Dürer and Schongauer. The two babies on the rock in the front row of the crowd recall the infant Christ and John the Baptist from other images, such as Raphael's Garvagh Madonna. One baby clings to his father's leg in fear at the Baptist's predictions while the other reaches out to support and comfort him.

Raphael's sketches in black chalk for some of the figures in the crowd appear on a sheet of drawings now in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford. Infrared reflectography shows that the final design for the painting was transferred to the panel from a pricked cartoon. An inventory of 1771 from the Palazzo Ansidei refers to a similar sized drawing of the same subject, suggesting that the cartoon may have remained in the family's possession, although its whereabouts is unknown today.

Style: High Renaissance
This panel comes from  an altarpiece of the Virgin and Child surrounded by narrative scenes depicting the lives of Saints Joachim and Anne and miracles of the Virgin. These scenes show the story of the conception and birth of the Virgin as told in the Golden Legend, a thirteenth-century compilation of the lives of the saints.

In the upper part of the panel, we see Saint Joachim, identified by his large halo outlined in black. He attempts to make an offering of a small lamb at the temple, represented by an altar table covered by a tabernacle that is supported by delicate columns with pink, carved capitals. The altar is surrounded by priests; two of them grab Joachim to remove him, unwilling to let him make his sacrifice. Joachim is turned away because of his childlessness. This scene shows how Joachim and his wife Anne's misfortune excluded them from taking part in religious ceremonies. The following scene in the sequence of events appears on a different panel, The Angel appearing to Saint Joachim and (below) The Birth of the Virgin.

The scene below shows Joachim and Anne kissing and embracing outside the Golden Gate, one of the many entrances to Jerusalem. The city is shown as a fortress: the gate has a portcullis and there are crenellated turrets at each corner. These protect domestic buildings with pitched tiled roofs, and a central building made up of half domes surrounding a flag tower. In the craggy landscape behind, more castles emerge from the rocks.

According to the Golden Legend, Anne and Joachim 'met as the Angel had predicted, and were happy to see each other and to be sure they were to have a child'. The embrace, which is mentioned in the other sources but not the Golden Legend, was supposed to be the moment at which the conception miraculously occurred.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
This scene shows the Dogana da Mar (Customs House), which was built in about 1677, and the entrance to the Grand Canal. Over the gateway to the canal is a golden globe with a weather vane in the shape of Fortune, personified as the mistress of the sea. With almost no land, Venice depended on maritime trade for its existence, and Fortune's billowing sail indicates that the winds of fortune are inconstant. A little further back, boats arrive at the harbour and sailors unload cargo and pay customs charges to enter the city's waterways.

Guardi has captured movement with animated brushwork -- the hardworking merchants and fishermen are made up of skilful flicks of thickly applied paint -- and used thinner layers of paint to capture the effects of changing light on the water. Buildings and masts, described using rough black lines, seem to pierce the light, cloudy sky.

Style: Neoclassical
Set against a velvety black background a voluptuous woman regards us with an inviting sidelong glance that is both reticent and willing. She unveils her charms, and as she does so offers us a posy of flowers. Her crisp white linen chemise with pinkish touches in the shadows has fallen from her shoulder to reveal her breast, the curve of which is emphasised by the line of her blue silk ribbon. Her open chemise and the mantle loosely draped around her shoulders create a luxurious sense of plenty and beauty. A length of sheer material is wound into her pale gold hair, which cascades in waves over her neck on to her expanse of soft, milky skin. She holds buttercups, primroses and forget-me-nots, the colours of which echo the gold of her hair, rings and chain bracelet looped around her wrist, and pick up the green of her cloak, the rosy pink of her nipple and the blue of her ribbon. Our gaze follows the implied diagonal from her eyes to her breast to the posy of flowers.

The flowers may be a poetic allusion to Flora, the goddess of spring, after whom many similar images of scantily clad women such as this are named. Flora was also a common name for courtesans in sixteenth-century Italy. This painting is typical of a type produced in Venice in the first decades of the 1500s and is related to Titian's famous beauty Flora in the Uffizi, Florence. Palma Vecchio is particularly associated with these half-length images of beautiful fair-haired women, which are not conventional portraits. The choice of flowers may also have symbolic significance. The forget-me-not asks for the giver to be remembered; the buttercup represents dazzling charms and the primrose is associated with young or first love and can mean 'I can't live without you'.

Palma Vecchio appeals to all of our senses in this intentionally erotic image, and we can almost feel the cool linen of the lady's chemise and the soft floss of her hair, and smell the scent of the fresh posy of flowers and the warm expanse of her flesh. The gorgeous, rich colours -- grass green, creamy whites and and pale gold set against the deep black background -- add to the painting's sensuality and opulence.

The same woman seems to appear entirely naked in another painting by Palma Vecchio -- Venus and Cupid in a Landscape, in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. In that picture she reclines on the ground in a mountainous landscape and receives an arrow from her son Cupid, which points towards her breast as though about to wound her. The Fitzwilliam Venus has very similar facial features to the National Gallery Flora, even down to the dimple in her chin.

In sixteenth-century Venice, such images of beautiful young women were commissioned by collectors and the wealthy clients of courtesans. There is also evidence that successful courtesans commissioned such paintings of and for themselves, both as solid financial investments and as lasting records of their charms to be prominently displayed in their own apartments.

Style: High Renaissance
This panel shows Saint John the Baptist, the biblical hermit saint, holding a cross and a scroll. It formed part of the lower tier of a large polyptych (multi-panelled altarpiece) painted between about 1456 and 1461 by Giorgio Schiavone for the funerary chapel of the wealthy Roberti family in the church of San Nicolò in Padua. John’s panel must have been placed on the right side of the altarpiece alongside Saint Peter Martyr: they both look up in the same direction, towards where The Pietà would have appeared.

John was usually shown in a camel-hair shirt, with long hair and beard -- as he is in Carlo Crivelli's painting of him -- alluding to the years he spent in the desert, punishing his body with uncomfortable clothes and poor food to bring himself closer to God. In the medieval period he was understood as the last of the prophets who foretold the coming of the Messiah, and as the immediate forerunner of Christ. According to the Gospels, when John baptised Christ, the Holy Ghost came down and proclaimed him to be the son of God (as shown in Piero della Francesca's The Baptism of Christ). John himself identified Christ as the Messiah, and we can see a hint of the words he spoke written on his scroll: Ecce Agnus Dei ('Behold the Lamb of God').

Schiavone depicted John the Baptist in a rich pink and green robe edged with gold, standing against a burnished gold background. His stance, with one leg bent and his hip curved out to the side, gives him a sense of solidity. His toes poke forward over the front edge of the plinth, creating a link between the sacred space of the altarpiece and the real space of the viewer. This panel is indebted to designs by the sculptor Donatello, who worked in Padua between 1443 and 1453.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
This view belongs to the group of pictures that Corot painted during his stay in north-east France in the spring and summer of 1871 -- The Marsh at Arleux is another example. It is the second version of the composition. The first (now in a private collection), painted in May 1871, was based on a study by Alfred Robaut, with whom Corot was staying at the time. In July Robaut rented a cottage near Arleux for Corot’s use, and he was able to paint this second view on the spot.  According to Robaut, Corot completed it back in the studio more than three years later, in November 1874.

The site depicted is probably the Canal de la Sensée, which now joins up with the Canal du Nord between Arleux and Palluel (which is shown in Souvenir of Palluel). There are small compositional differences between the two paintings, and in this second version Corot added fishing nets on the right bank in place of a figure of an old woman trudging along with a bundle on her back. The overall light tonality of this picture is shared by a number of other paintings by Corot from the 1870s, and it has been suggested that he was responding to the Impressionist palette of such painters as Pissarro, Sisley and  Monet. The painting also has the formality of composition and clarity of style associated with the work of his earlier period, for example Avignon from the West. In general it is more flatly painted than many of his later works, of which Souvenir of a Journey to Coubron is a supreme example. The foliage of the trees is more solid, with less of the shimmering brushwork he habitually added. This contrasts with the much busier surface of the first version, and it may be that when Corot finished off the painting in the studio in 1874 he added the highlights and surface touches which enliven some areas of the composition. These include an area of white and off-white dots in the grass at the extreme right and touches of green laid over the reeds on the left bank.

Style: Barbizon