wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
Two monumental saints --  Mark and Sebastian -- stand in niches topped with shell-like arches. The panels must once have formed the outer wings of a triptych or polyptych, perhaps in a classical frame, like the altarpieces Cima da Conegliano painted for the parish churches at Ornica and Olera, near Bergamo and Capodistria in Slovenia.

We do not know where they originally came from, but in the seventeenth century two panels were recorded in the church of the Crociferi in Venice, in the chapel of the silk weavers. They flanked an image of the Annunciation signed by Cima and dated 1495 (State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg). They do not seem to have belonged together, however: the Annunciation is taller, quite different in composition and is painted on cloth rather than wood.

The figures seem to stand in front of the narrow niches: their elbows overlap the vertical edges, as if they are three-dimensional sculptures rather than flat, painted images. We see scalloped niches in fifteenth-century Venetian sculpture and painting -- in the works of Jacopo Bellini in the 1430s, and behind the statues of saints in the monument to Doge Pietro Mocenigo carved by Pietro Lombardo in the church of SS Giovanni e Paulo. Cima himself painted a large altarpiece for the parish church of Olera, near Bergamo, in which painted panels show standing saints and flank a carved and coloured statue of Saint Bartholomew in a  shell-shaped niche. It's possible that our panels also came from an altarpiece which was part sculpted and part painted.

Style: High Renaissance
Saint Zenobius was, along with Saint John the Baptist, Florence's patron saint. He had been the city's bishop in the fifth century and performed many miracles -- including several where he raised the dead to life. The publication of Zenobius's official biography in 1487 and again in 1496, written by a priest called Clemente Mazza, sparked a renewed reverence for the saint in the city. In 1500 Botticelli used Mazza's stories to create a series of four rectangular paintings offering a visual chronology of the key moments in the saint's life from baptism to death. Two of these panels are in the National Gallery's collection: Four Scenes from the Early Life of Saint Zenobius and Three Miracles of Saint Zenobius.

Each of the panels includes at least three episodes from the biography. Botticelli has created backdrops like stage sets for each episode, drawing upon the architecture of fifteenth-century Florence but streamlining and beautifying it, and sometimes including imaginary features. In some scenes, such as Three Miracles of Saint Zenobius, the architecture is so close to the real city that particular public spaces such as the Piazza di San Pier Maggiore are identifiable.

The two National Gallery panels are the first in the series. They show Zenobius making the decision to convert to Christianity, his baptism and a series of miracles. The third and fourth panels are in the Städel Museum in Frankfurt and the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, respectively. They continue the theme of the conquest of death, with more instances of the saint bringing people back from death, and end with his death, surrounded by pupils of his spiritual teaching and those whom he healed.

The panels are the size and shape of paintings known as spalliere after the Italian word for shoulder: spalla. Paintings like this were usually hung at shoulder height, set into wooden panelling. Other examples of spalliere in the National Gallery include Venus and Mars,  Joseph receives his Brothers on their Second Visit to Egypt and Joseph's Brothers beg for Help.

Spalliere were usually made to decorate bedrooms and very often commemorated marriages. Normally they showed mythological scenes or stories drawn from poetry, with morals about love, marriage or virtue. A religious subject such as scenes from the life of a saint, as shown here, would have been very unusual and an unlikely subject for a marital bedroom. One possible patron is Francesco da Girolami, who may have ordered the panels to celebrate the marriage of one of his sons. The powerful Florentine Girolami family claimed to be descendants of the saint -- it was Filippo di Zanobi de' Girolami who ordered Mazza's biography.

Another suggestion is that the panels were not made for a domestic setting, but for a religious group.  There was, in Florence, a religious youth group called the Compagnia della Purificazione e di San Zanobi ('The company of the Purification and of Saint Zenobius'). The panels might have been made for their meeting rooms. The inclusion of  a number of young men wearing white vestments, such as those worn by choirs or members of these groups, supports this idea.

Style: High Renaissance
These three oil paintings are preliminary sketches, or modelli, for an altarpiece that was commissioned by Bishop Maes around 1611 for St Bavo’s Cathedral, Ghent. Although it was used as a plan, the central panel is highly detailed and vividly coloured. It is thought this is the sketch Rubens referred to in 1614 when he wrote to the Archduke Albert, asking for his help in securing the commission after the death of Bishop Maes caused a delay to its progress.

The central panel shows Saint Bavo, a Roman solider who defied the edict of the Emperor Mauritius by renouncing his role in the military and becoming a monk in the Christian Church (before his conversion, he was called Count Allowin of Haspengouw). This story was recounted in a biography of the saint that appeared in 1583, written by the theologian Joannes Molanus. In Rubens's picture, Saint Bavo's worldly possessions are given away -- his riches are being offered to a group of beggars -- as he is received into the Benedictine Order by Saints Amand and Floribert. A cleric holds a black habit for him to wear instead of his armour.

The left panel of the altarpiece depicts Saint Bavo’s sisters, Saints Gertrude and Begga, who followed in their brother’s footsteps by becoming nuns. Gertrude tilts her head back and raises her eyes as if towards heaven; Begga leans towards her companion, who wears a white headdress; this may be Saint Bavo’s daughter, Saint Agletrude. The women are surrounded by a group of onlookers, most of whom gaze towards the scene in the central panel. In the right panel, King Clothar and his son King Dagobert argue with a herald of the Emperor. The man thrusts a scroll towards the kings that contains an edict from Mauritius, forbidding his soldiers from entering the Church.

There are some pentimenti in the oil sketches, which can primarily be seen using X-radiography and infrared reflectography. In the central panel, for example, the face of the deacon who stands behind Saint Amand has been altered, and there may have been the head and hand of another beggar just to the left of the man who hands out Saint Bavo’s money. The positions of some of the children surrounding the mother in the foreground have also been changed.

Style: Baroque
The two portraits were made as pendants, or companion pieces, and would have hung side by side. The two figures are turned towards each other in the accepted tradition of pictures of betrothed or married couples, and they look out at us, as if we are witnesses of their union. They are the Archduke Albert of Austria and the Infanta (or Princess) Isabella, joint sovereigns of the Seventeen Provinces of the Spanish Netherlands. Sovereignty was granted to them by Isabella’s father, Philip II of Spain, on their marriage in 1599.

This was a tempestuous time in the history of the Netherlands, which had been ruled by Spain for generations. The Southern Provinces (Flanders) were, like Spain, Roman Catholic, but the Northern Provinces were predominantly Protestant and had fought hard for independence. Albert and Isabella were, in effect, rulers of Flanders only. While their predecessors had determined to Hispanicise Flanders with violent episodes of bitter warfare, Albert and Isabella had a strong sense of duty to the people as well as to the Spanish crown. They set out to create a sense of national identity -- Roman Catholic, but with an independent character within the Spanish Imperial domains. They were the most benevolent of the long line of Habsburg incumbents and there was a lull in the worst of the violence. The prosperity this brought was recognised by the population, including Rubens, whose order book for portraits became quickly filled.

The couple were both patrons of the arts, and they influenced taste in painting and sculpture in particular. Albert created Rubens paintre de l’hostel, or court painter, along with two others, Jan Brueghel the Elder and Otto van Veen. They and the court architect, Wenzel Coebergher, became part of Albert and Isabella’s close circle. Albert was particularly fond of Rubens, who named his firstborn son after the Archduke. After Albert’s death in 1621, Isabella became sole sovereign. As a highly educated man, diplomat and devout Catholic, Rubens remained her trusted adviser in the struggle to maintain peace between the divided provinces. Isabella died in 1633, and the brief period of peace died with her.

The paintings are unlikely to be by Rubens’s own hand, but are studio copies. They were possibly made after two originals which are now lost but which are known through prints made after them. Two other portraits of Albert and Isabella that are definitely by Rubens were in his studio after his death and are now in the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.

Style: Baroque
In these two paintings, Fountain in a Park and Meeting Place of the Hunt, a number of figures on horseback and on foot gather beside a fountain. Their similar compositions, identical sizes and the fact that they are painted on matching wooden panels, suggest that they are companion pieces. They have both been dated on the basis of style to about 1875–80.

These imagined scenes, in which elegant figures wearing colourful dress enjoy themselves in parks and gardens, evoke eighteenth-century paintings known as fêtes galantes initiated by Watteau, and were a favourite subject for Monticelli throughout his career.

In his later years subject matter became subordinated to his distinctive colourful and thickly painted style. Presented as part of the 'Harry Wearne Collection of Twelve Paintings by Monticelli' to the Tate Gallery in 1939, these two paintings were transferred to the National Gallery in 1956.

Style: Impressionist
These two pictures are preparatory works, known as modelli, for paintings by Peyron now in the Musée des Augustins in Toulouse. The paintings were commissioned by the abbé de Bernis, who became Archbishop of Rouen. The modelli were exhibited at the Paris Salon in 1785.

The earlier painting, made in 1779, represents an episode in Belisaire, a novel by Jean-François Marmontel, published in 1767. The novel is based on the legend of Belisarius, the Byzantine general (about 505–565) who according to this account was blinded and impoverished by the Roman emperor Justinian. Peyron depicts the episode when Belisarius is given hospitality at the home of a peasant who recognises the hero fallen on hard times. The two women of the family place their infants on his knee to give him thanks and receive his blessing. The peasant's son looks away from his wife and child as he contemplates his former general. Peyron uses contrasting light and shade and different spaces to underline the emotional conflict.

The second picture, painted two years after the Belisarius, and signed and dated 1781, represents the story of the Roman heroine Cornelia. After a friend boasted about the jewels she owned, Cornelia Africana, a widowed Roman matron and mother of Tiberius and Gaius Gracchus (known as the Gracchi), declared her sons to be her jewels. Here Cornelia holds the hands of her young sons, in contrast to the pearl necklace and expensive fabrics held by her friend. Like the Belisarius, this work is intended as a good example to show the importance of moral over material values.

It is not certain whether the Cornelia was intended as a companion piece, or pendant, for the Belisarius. The paintings were made two years apart, and reveal both major and minor differences. The Cornelia is on canvas whereas the Belisarius is on paper; there is underdrawing for the Belisarius but not the Cornelia; and the paint has been applied quite fluidly in the Belisarius but more carefully in the Cornelia. However, the background architecture of the Cornelia echoes that in the Belisarius, suggesting that even if the Belisarius was not conceived with a pendant in mind, the Cornelia may later have been made as a companion painting for it.

Style: Neoclassical
This huge oval-shaped painting, which is about 3 metres long, was commissioned to decorate a ceiling in a palazzo belonging to the Contarini family, which also featured four oval monochrome paintings of the virtues. Two doves embrace in the sky above Venus, the goddess of love and fertility, who is draped in sumptuous fabrics with jewels and pearls. Her pale skin glowing, she gestures lovingly towards a child held by a winged figure. In the clouds above, the Three Graces bless the infant by scattering flowers, while below Cupid, Venus' son, clutches a sheaf of arrows, a symbol of his matchmaking powers -- those hit by his arrows fall in love.

The winged figure is a personification of Time. He has here laid aside his scythe, an act that symbolises immortality, although an hourglass attached to his waist hints at the inevitable passing of time. The young child could represent the Trojan hero Aeneas, who was said to have been made an immortal god at the end of his life (this subject was depicted in another ceiling painting by Tiepolo, which is now in the Royal Palace of Madrid). As a whole, the imagery suggests the celebration of the birth of an heir, and the painting may have been commissioned by the Contarini family for this reason. The child's facial features are distinctive when compared to the idealised faces of Venus and Time, so he could be based on a particular infant.

The scale of the figures and the sense that they are above us hint at the intended destination: this work was made to be seen from below, and at a great distance. Cupid's chubby legs dangle towards us, as if he is about to fall from a cloud, and Time's face is partially concealed as he glances up towards Venus. Tiepolo is best known for his use of soft light and delicate colouring, and here Venus' pale flesh and striking pink drapery are contrasted with Time's brown skin and brilliant blue loincloth. The artist tended towards a loose handling of paint to create a sketch-like appearance, which can be seen in Time's glorious feathery wings.

We think the work was painted between 1753, when Tiepolo returned from Würzburg, and 1758, by which time his son Domenico had produced an etching of the composition in reverse. The painting remained in one of the Contarini palaces until at least 1855. By 1876 it had been installed at Bute House in London, the property of the banker Henry Louis Bischoffsheim, which then became the Egyptian embassy. During the early 1960s the work was removed and restored by the National Gallery before being bought for the collection in 1969.

Style: Rococo, Neoclassical
Fernando de Valdés has an imposing stare: he was clearly a man who commanded respect. His black cloak -- an expanse of plain, dark and heavy fabric -- makes him appear larger than he really is and a matching bishop's hat, rigidly positioned on his head, shows his prestigious status within the Church. His clothing and the opulent red curtain trimmed with gold, like the chair on which he sits, suggest subtle grandeur.

In 1633 Valdés was appointed Archbishop of Granada and President of the Council of Castile, after which he became a prominent figure at the Spanish court of Philip IV. He was at the height of his career in the 1630s, having previously been appointed Bishop of Teruel (1625) and Bishop Elect of León (1632). Valdés's noble expression conveys his power as a member of the Church and government. His grey beard and the dark circles under his eyes show his age -- we see him in the later stages of his life and career.

During his seven years in Madrid, Valdés commissioned a full-length seated portrait from Velázquez (now lost); a copy of this painting survives in the Count of Toreno collection, Madrid. The bust-length portrait we see here, and another painting of a hand holding a letter signed by Velázquez, could be fragments from a larger, full-length work. Valdés died in 1639 and this is probably a posthumous portrait made during the 1640s.

Velázquez used his skill as a portraitist to secure a position as court painter in 1623. During the 1620s and 1630s, he painted numerous portraits of Philip IV, other members of the royal family and various dignitaries present at court -- two of them, Philip IV of Spain in Brown and Silver and Philip IV of Spain, are in our collection.

Style: Baroque
A drinking glass, a vase, a plate of oysters, some small fish – probably sardines – and a half-peeled lemon lie on a table against a flat dark background. The highly patterned tablecloth is also present in the artist's Still Life: Fruit and A Vase of Wild Flowers, making it possible that they were painted pendants. The paintings are also very similar in terms of technique.

Most of Monticelli's still life paintings were made between 1875 and 1885; the majority, including this picture, were finished between 1878 and 1882. Monticelli painted fewer still lifes than any other subject, probably because he preferred painting outdoors to working in the studio. Nevertheless, his painted landscapes are generally far less realistic than his still lifes. Here, Monticelli looks back to Dutch seventeenth-century still lifes, which demonstrate the artist’s virtuosity through the careful description of objects and textures. This is evident in the naturalism with which he paints the light reflected in the glass and the texture of the juicy pulp of the lemon.

In his later years Monticelli particularly loved rich colours, daring juxtapositions of saturated tones and, above all, a surface roughness that makes his works easily recognisable. As is typical of the artist’s work, this picture is painted on a wooden panel, probably mahogany, which was prepared with a pigmented varnish prior to painting. He left several areas of the support bare -- it can be seen clearly in some parts of the tablecloth.

The picture was presented as part of the 'Harry Wearne Collection of Twelve Paintings by Monticelli' to the Tate Gallery in 1939. It was  transferred to the National Gallery in 1956.

Style: Impressionist
This picture, painted in fresco, was part of a series of eight which decorated the walls of the palace belonging to Pandolfo Petrucci, the ruler of Siena; three survive in our collection. He commissioned them to celebrate the marriage of his son to Pope Pius III's niece.

This panel shows an episode taken from the Odyssey, an epic poem attributed to Homer which follows the Greek hero Odysseus as he travels home from the Trojan War. His wife Penelope, famous for her fidelity, is shown at her loom: during Odysseus’ 20-year absence she was pursued by other men -- seen here queuing up for her attention -- but vowed that she would only remarry once her weaving was complete. She ensured that it never was by unpicking her daily labour each night. The central figure who raises his finger seems to be talking to Penelope (he has sometimes been identified as her son Telemachus). He and the suitors wear colourful clothes that look expensive; some have fashionable blond curls and one poses nonchalantly with a falcon, perhaps to show off his hunting skills.

The man entering the room looks different to the other suitors. He carries a staff, often a symbol of a traveller, and his red and blue outfit mirrors the colours of the bow and arrows which hang above Penelope's head. The association is most likely deliberate: Homer tells us that when Odysseus returned he disguised himself as a beggar and, taking his rivals by surprise, drew his bow and arrows and killed them one by one.

Other episodes in the poem are depicted in the distance. We see Odysseus’ ship, which is decorated with the blue and gold Petrucci coat of arms. The mermaids in the water are the sirens. Homer describes how Odysseus asked his sailors to strap him to the mast as they passed by so that he could listen to their enchanting song without falling victim to its curse -- it famously lured sailors to wreck their boats. Sailors in a small boat nearby dive into the water, maddened by the beauty of the singing. On the coast we see Odysseus meeting the witch Circe. They are surrounded by pigs, painted to look like the local Sienese breed, the Cinta Senese, which have a white stripe down their backs. The pigs are in fact humans who have been transformed by Circe’s sorcery.

The choice of subject was relevant for the celebration of a marriage: fidelity and chastity were key virtues for Renaissance women and Penelope was the exemplary bride. It probably had meaning for Pandolfo too, for other reasons: like Odysseus, he also experienced exile and homecoming, having been banished from his hometown of Siena, accused of political intrigue, in the late 1490s.

Style: High Renaissance
Jakob Seisenegger was well known as a portraitist, and he travelled across Europe to paint members of the powerful Hapsburg family, including the Holy Roman Emperors, in their various territories. We don't know the identity of this girl, but she surely belonged to an important dynasty.

Her large, rounded cheeks suggest that she is still quite young, but nonetheless she's dressed in a stiff formal outfit: a ruffled collar peeks out from beneath a high-necked net bodice woven in alternating stripes with gold thread and a dark purplish yarn. Her cap is embellished with flowers made of pearls and a red bead, perhaps coral. Her red hair, arranged in a series of tiny neat plaits, pokes out at her temples. The rest of her hair is contained in a net of knitted gold thread, also decorated with pearls. The detailed costume suggests a dating of about 1545–50.

X-ray photography reveals a device (a personal emblem) imitating that of the painter Lucas Cranach the Younger, to whom the picture was once attributed. The panel was probably cut from a larger portrait: Seisenegger rarely worked on such a small scale.

Style: High Renaissance
A young man wearing only an animal skin is illuminated against a dark rock, leaning forward to drink water trickling from a spring. With one hand he props himself up on the rock and with the other he holds a reed cross -- an attribute which identifies him as  Saint John the Baptist. According to the Gospel of Luke (3: 1--17), John spent some years living as a hermit in the wilderness of Judea, foretelling the coming of Christ. He was traditionally shown as a bearded and unkempt adult -- he was supposed to have dressed in camel's skin and lived on locusts and honey in the desert -- and was often accompanied by a lamb (he identified Christ as the Lamb of God). The water springing from the rock is appropriate to John's baptismal role: he preached repentance of sins and baptised people in the river Jordan, Christ among them. Here he drinks directly from a spring rather than using a drinking bowl as other artists -- such as Raphael -- had previously shown him.

This painting was once attributed to Caravaggio, or to one of his followers, but it was probably painted in the mid-seventeenth century in Rome. Caravaggio painted a number of pictures of the Baptist as an adolescent, including a scene of him leaning on a rock and drinking directly from a spring, of which numerous copies and variants exist, attesting to its popularity in the seventeenth century. Although not directly related to that composition, our painting's tight crop, dramatic lighting and naturalistic rendering of the Baptist's body are all ultimately inspired by Caravaggio's example.

An attribution to Giuseppe Vermiglio (about 1587--after 1635), a Lombard painter who spent considerable time in Rome in the early part of the seventeenth century, has also been suggested.

Style: Baroque, Academic