wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
This painting is the second of a pair that depicts episodes from the Book of Exodus, which describes how Moses rescued the Israelites from slavery in Egypt and accompanied them into the promised land of Canaan. It is based on Exodus 32 and shows the Israelites dancing beneath a bull with a crescent moon on its shoulder.

Moses had gone up Mount Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments from God, leaving the Israelites for 40 days and 40 nights. Fearing that he would never come back, the Israelites implored Aaron, the high priest, to make an image for them to worship. Aaron agreed and gathered their earrings to construct a golden calf. When Moses returned and saw his people celebrating this cult image, he was furious: he threw down the tablets with the Ten Commandments and destroyed the golden calf. The painting depicts the moment immediately beforehand. In the background, open tents reveal some of the Israelites sleeping, seemingly unimpressed by or recovering from the party happening in the foreground. The golden calf is hovering in a cloud above a group of people, some scantily dressed, who play music and dance.

It has been argued that the golden calf is shown here as the Egyptian bull god Apis, identified by the crescent moon on its shoulder, although this is unusual. Worship of bulls is a feature of several religions and the ancient Egyptians particularly venerated Apis. However, this crescent moon may also allude to the heraldic device of the Strozzi, a Florentine patrician family. Some of them were exiled from Florence, and the Book of Exodus, with its narrative of the Israelites' exile in Egypt, would have resonated with their personal experience. The  impressive palace that Filippo Strozzi had built in the centre of Florence on his return from exile in Naples was filled with works of art, including paintings of a similar format to this one. Strozzi was particularly fond of Filippino Lippi, who painted his funerary chapel in the Florentine church of S. Maria Novella, which would explain his interest in a work by a follower of Filippino.

The equal dimensions of this painting and Moses brings forth Water out of the Rock suggest that they originally belonged together. Another showing the famous episode of Moses carrying the tablets of the Ten Commandments may possibly have been lost. Such horizontal paintings, known as spalliere in fifteenth-century Italy, were particularly common in Florentine households, and were likely inserted into furniture or wainscoting. Spalliere often carry a moral message, which is certainly true of this one: after all, Moses came down from Mount Sinai to admonish the Israelites for celebrating and worshipping an idol instead of the true God.

Style: High Renaissance
Saint John the Evangelist is shown on the island of Patmos in the Aegean Sea, where he was exiled under the rule of the Roman Emperor Domitian. According to tradition, it was there that he wrote the biblical Book of Revelation, a description of the events leading up to the apocalypse (the end of the world). Christians believe that at this moment Christ will come again to judge all the souls that have ever lived.

The saint is seated on the ground among rocky crags, on a slip of land surrounded by the sea; the spray from the gentle rippling water is represented as semi-circles of white dots. His traditional symbol, the eagle, perches by his side on a red book (probably his Gospel). Acting as the medium of John's divine inspiration, it raises its head to the heavens where its beady eyes seem transfixed.

In other versions of the  scene, John himself is witnessing a divine vision of the words he writes (see, for example, a version by the Master of the Female Half-Lengths). Gripping his ink pot in one hand and quill in the other, he is deep in concentration -- listening perhaps to the bird and writing on a scroll unfurled across his knees.

Many representations of Saint John on the island, both painted and sculpted, show him writing on his lap like this -- though often in a book rather than on a scroll -- enhancing the sense of the spontaneity of his divine inspiration as well as the rugged setting. In general the artist has composed the image to evoke a sense of calm and serenity: John is placed in the very centre, and the triangular shape of his crimson cloak with its wide base is almost symmetrical.

The bright crimson robes contrast with the muddy green landscape around the saint. The artist, who may have been from the region of the Upper Rhineland, has paid careful attention to the effects of light on the scenery: a gold light hovers above the horizon, suggesting it is dawn, and catches the foliage of the few trees on the slopes. The picture was painted when artists were developing an interest in depicting nature and this episode offered the opportunity to paint a varied landscape setting.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
This is one of Correggio's most impressive early paintings, dating from about 1512 when he was about 23 years old. He probably made it for someone's home. Christ kneels before his mother to ask for her blessing as he prepares to leave and follow his destiny. He is robed in white against the blueish landscape, his pose conveying a sense of delicacy and stillness. The Virgin Mary swoons, her face and hands drained of colour -- she knows that her son is leaving to go to his certain death. She falls into the arms of her companion, who is probably one of the Three Marys, who supported the Virgin during the Passion. Saint John the Evangelist stands behind Christ, wringing his hands in grief.

The subject does not figure in any of the Gospels and is rare in Italian Renaissance paintings. However, it was common at this time in German paintings and engravings. Although Correggio would not have known it, the other notable representation of this subject in the National Gallery's collection is by the German artist Albrecht Altdorfer, painted in about 1520. Correggio's choice of this subject reveals his interest in Northern art even as a young painter. His 'Ecce Homo' of about 1525--30 is influenced by Dürer's Passion engravings, showing that this interest continued as Correggio matured as an artist. Correggio's paintings are particularly known for their portrayal of intense or tender emotion and their power to awake an emotional response in the viewer, which may be why he was drawn to German art.

This is possibly the first time that Correggio painted on canvas rather than wooden panel. He has exploited the possibilities of slow-drying, blendable oil paint on this surface to create the misty effects in the landscape. The blue and mauve robes of the Virgin are echoed in the colours of the evening sky, and the browns and yellows of the architecture are picked up in the robes of Saint John and the female companion.

Correggio has divided the setting in two with an Ionic column, which runs up the centre of the composition. He has painted the Virgin and her companion before the enclosing architecture on the right and Christ kneeling in front of the open landscape on the left, indicating his imminent journey out into the world. However, Correggio did not always plan the picture to look like this.

X-ray images reveal that he began a different version but then abandoned it. Originally Christ was to be shown standing on the right rather than kneeling on the left, and another holy woman was to be included. Christ standing and blessing the Virgin is another tradition common in German religious art, which Correggio might have known through prints by Dürer. Correggio then turned the canvas upside down and started again -- perhaps so as not to be distracted by his first attempt, as it does not appear that he blanked it out before painting over it. He then repainted the picture to show Christ kneeling and seeking his mother's blessing.

Style: High Renaissance
A number of grandly costumed figures are seen beside a fountain in an imaginary garden on the edge of a forest. Two men on horseback coming from the left are approaching a group of women standing in the centre, but moved slightly to background. On the right, three other women and a dog are seen in front of the fountain, while they appear to be moving in the direction of the horsemen. All the figures seem to converge toward a meeting point, perhaps where the hunt is gathering.

This painting is very likely a pendant to the artist’s Fountain in a Park, which is identical in size. Scientific investigation carried out by the National Gallery has demonstrated that the two works are painted on matching wooden panels, possibly from repurposed wooden drawers. Both the paintings can be dated on the basis of style to about 1875--80, after Monticelli’s definitive return to his native Marseille.

These imagined scenes, in which elegant figures enjoy themselves in parks and gardens, evoke the eighteenth-century French tradition of fêtes galantes, and were a favourite subject for Monticelli throughout his career. In his later years subject matter became subordinated to his thickly painted style. In these companion pieces very little of the panel is left exposed. The thick layer of white underpaint the artist used is evident in the sky, particularly in the central area, where the underpaint did not dry before the top layer was added. This impasto effect was probably not intentional. Nevertheless, Monticelli’s characteristic brushwork can also be seen in the figures in the foreground. In some of them the colours are so thickly applied that the paint appears to have been applied straight from the tube.

Monticelli's distinctive painting style was admired in the late nineteenth century by several artists including Cezanne and Van Gogh.

Style: Impressionist
Paintings of the Virgin Mary and Christ Child were not only found in churches in Renaissance Italy but also in people's homes, where they were the focus of private prayer. This painting is slightly larger than most made for domestic use and -- unusually -- the figures are lit from the right. It may have been made for a specific location where the natural light also entered the room from the right -- possibly a private chapel within the owner's house, a luxury reserved for only the wealthiest citizens. It makes sense that such a patron would order a work from Verrocchio; his workshop was the most prestigious in Florence and there he trained several notable painters including Leonardo da Vinci and Botticelli.

Verrocchio’s training and brief career as a goldsmith are evident in the elaborate brooches of pearls and rubies worn by the Virgin and the angel on the left, and the silk fabrics woven with gold thread. The leaves and stem of the lily are gilded, transforming it too into a luxury object. Technical examination has shown that Verrocchio used three techniques to render different effects with gold. The gold thread used in the lining of the Virgin's robe and her lilac sleeves is created entirely with yellow paint, but the star at her shoulder and the fringe on the left angel's sleeve are gold leaf applied over a sticky base called mordant. This real gold is the brightest and most tactile. 'Mosaic gold', a type of tin which shines less brightly than real gold, has been used in the borders of the robes and the ribbon that flutters over the shoulders of the left angel; it gives a more subtle gilded effect that does not distract us from the overall design. As far as we know now, this is the only example of its use in Florentine painting.

Verrocchio also practised as a sculptor and certain elements of this painting reflect that occupation: the crisp, geometric folds of the Virgin's gown, the convincingly three-dimensional shape of the left angel's head. This angel's elegant left hand with its defined joints and elongated fingers is comparable to that of Verrocchio's sculpture of the Woman holding Flowers (Bargello, Florence) dated 1475--80.

Parts of the picture seem to be by a different artist, however. Verrocchio's output as a painter has been difficult to define, partly because of his practice of collaborating with his students. Here, it seems that he has allowed one of his students, Lorenzo di Credi, to work on certain important parts of the composition including the Christ Child, the angel supporting Jesus and the curtains. Lorenzo worked in Verrocchio's studio from 1473 until after Verrocchio's death in 1488 and collaborated with him on a number of projects. Lorenzo's style focused more on the flesh than the bone structure underneath, which is perhaps why he was tasked with painting the Christ Child. His involvement in this picture is given away by his angel's left hand -- the underlying structure of bones and muscle is less evident than in the hands painted by Verrocchio.

Style: Early Renaissance
This painting illustrates the belief that Christ was both human and divine: the embodiment of the ‘Two Trinities’. At the centre of the composition the Christ Child forms both a vertical and a horizontal link with the figures around him, reinforcing the picture's principal message.

Together with the hovering dove of the Holy Ghost and the figure of God the Father above, Christ forms part of the Holy or Heavenly Trinity. He looks up towards heaven, but affectionately holds hands with his human parents, Mary and Joseph. Together they make up the holy family, which was sometimes referred to as the Earthly Trinity, especially during the Counter-Reformation period.

The subject of the 'Two Trinities' was rarely painted in Spain during the seventeenth century. This is one of Murillo's most ambitious works and it demonstrates his ability to transform a complex theological principle into a very human and accessible image.

The scene is not based on a particular biblical event, though a story in the Gospel of Luke echoes its theme. When Christ was 12 years old he was taken by his parents to Jerusalem to celebrate Passover; shortly after leaving they realised he was not with them. They found him three days later in the Temple, debating with religious scholars who were amazed at his great wisdom (Luke 2: 41--50). When confronted by his anxious parents Christ spoke simply of his divine mission.

The painting is one of extraordinary tenderness. Mary's loving gaze and gracefully upturned palm are directed towards her young son. Joseph looks out of the picture towards us, inviting us to adore Christ. He holds a rod bursting into flower, one of his attributes, to signify his betrothal to Mary. Christ stands on a sharp-edged rock, possibly intended to symbolise an altar or refer to biblical descriptions of him as the 'cornerstone' upon which God's household would be built (Matthew 21: 42 and Psalm 118: 22).

Though the painting's early history is unrecorded, the title by which it has become known, 'The Pedroso Murillo', is connected to the Pedroso family. The altarpiece is recorded in their collection for over a century (in 1708 in Cádiz and later in Madrid). It is among Murillo's last works and clearly showcases the loose and confident brushwork of his late style. It was probably made in 1681--2 when the artist was working on a series of paintings for the Capuchin church in Cádiz. He supposedly fell from scaffolding while painting there and died from his injuries several months later.

Style: Baroque
Willem van Mieris, son of artist Frans van Mieris -- his Self Portrait with a Cittern is in our collection -- belonged to a group of Dutch artists who are known as the Fijnschilders ('fine painters') because of their attention to accurate, realistic detail and their smooth technique. They aimed to show each object, each texture so authentically that they would seem tangible.

A kitchen setting provided van Mieris with the opportunity to show off his skills in representing as many different textures as possible. The plump hand of the young woman rests on the plump, feathered breast of one of the ducks on the stone windowsill. Her smooth skin contrasts with the grizzled flesh of the old man who has come to sell her a fish. He handles its silvery scales, lifting it from the wicker basket he holds; another is fixed on his back with leather straps.

Two more wicker baskets appear, quite different but both portrayed with infinite precision, one holding turnips and the other snipe (small wading birds with long beaks). The two enormous cabbages nestling at the end of the windowsill look heavy, but the leaves have delicate frilled edges echoed in the lace decorating the woman’s shift and cap. Above the cabbages are more feathers -- the soft, downy plumage of the pheasant’s breast and the long, stiff pinion feathers of its wings -- and, close by, the fur of two dead rabbits, contrasting with the very live cat sniffing for food. A heavy woven curtain is drawn back to reveal the interior of the kitchen. A pewter pot stands on the table and ceramic dishes on wooden shelves. In the centre of the ceiling, joints of meat are impaled on gleaming metal hooks.

But this hyperreality isn’t reality at all. This isn’t what a kitchen in the seventeenth-century Netherlands would have looked like – so many objects laid out in such a state of perfection. Van Mieris shows us the scene through a stone window with an arch, a carving of a classical scene beneath it, reminiscent of a niche in a grand building or church. This elevates the status of the kitchen and also, more importantly, of this picture and the artist's skill in painting it. The carving shows the story of Galatea, a Greek nymph who escaped over the sea from the clutches of the one-eyed giant, Cyclops. Van Mieris seems to contrast the grotesque stone fish Galatea clutches with the weighty, slippery one on the earthenware dish on the sill, and the hard chill of the stone frieze with the soft, warm fur of the cat strategically placed in front of it.

Van Mieris made a successful career from the portrayal of the interiors of kitchens or shops, using the device of an arched window with a classical frieze below and a profusion of objects to elevate their status. He took the idea of the 'niche picture' from his father and teacher Frans, who had himself followed the example of Gerrit Dou (look at A Poulterer's Shop).

Style: Baroque
This landscape was, for a long time, thought to be by a follower of Jacob van Ruisdael, but it is now considered to be van Ruisdael's work. The figures were added later; again, these were once thought to be by another artist but are now considered to be by van Ruisdael.

The identification was probably made difficult by the layers of old varnish that obscure the work, but it's still possible to see the artist's hand in the lively clouds and the detail of the trees, probably oaks, in the foreground. One particularly fine specimen stands outlined against the sky where the winding sandy road branches. The tree beyond, its leaves turning autumnal shades of orange and gold, is less easy to identify.

Style: Baroque
An old man leans against the ancient stone wall of a church, tilting his head towards the light that shines down on the scene. A little girl leans towards him, her gaze turned back perhaps towards someone approaching. Her hand is outstretched as if she is begging.

Dyckmans has painted the figures in earthy colours made mellow by the soft golden light that touches both of their faces and the child’s hand. The pair are shabby but spotlessly clean. Their skin glows in the light; their hair and the man’s beard, painted strand by strand with a brush with a single hair, is combed and meticulous. Dyckmans presents a sanitised vision of poverty, ensuring that there is nothing in his picture that his customers might find too upsetting. The man, his eyes closed, looks as though he could be dozing in the late evening sun; only the picture's title and the slight lifting of the man's head suggest his blindness.

Behind them, an old woman leaves the church holding a prayer book. A lamp burns behind her. The old man holds a rosary, confirming his piety. This painting, perhaps a little sentimental to modern eyes, was intended for the nineteenth-century middle-class home, where charity towards the poor was encouraged -- though donations were restricted to people thought of as ‘the deserving poor’, such as the neat and tidy old man and child. Those considered rogues -- shown drunk, thieving or simply dirty, in pamphlets and other publications put out by organisations concerned with the morals of the poor -- need not apply for charity, as it would be withheld (doubtless with a strong sense of self-justification).

Dyckman’s skill in the painting of textures -- not just the physical attributes of the characters but the subtle difference in the fabrics of their garments -- earned him the nickname of the Belgian Gerrit Dou, an artist whose style he admired. Dou was a leading member of a group of seventeenth-century Dutch artists known as ‘fijnschilders’ ('fine painters'), famous for their genre scenes painted in refined and realistic detail with almost invisible brushstrokes. Dou’s A Poulterer’s Shop is also in the National Gallery's collection.

The National Gallery painting is a reduced version of a picture of the same name painted by Dyckmans the year before (now in the Royal Museum of Fine Arts, Antwerp). In the Antwerp picture, three candles glow in the darkened church in place of the old woman, and the little girl is shown seated with her chin on her hand. The old man is also seated, but the position of his head and the expression on his face are the same as in this picture. When shown at the National Gallery in the nineteenth century, this second, smaller version was a huge success, with many copies produced and prints made for a wide and appreciative audience.

Style: Realist
This handsome horse, which would have been an impressive status symbol in seventeenth-century Holland, is presented in a dramatic light. It dwarfs the stable boy. Its forequarters stand out brightly against the dark hillside while its rump is contrasted against the luminous sky; there are no other bright colours to distract our eye. As we can see in the background, it's also turning the heads of two passers-by -- or perhaps they are the owners.

The same horse  appears in several other paintings. There are several other versions of this one, including one in the Wallace Collection; another also thought to be by Abraham Pietersz. van Calraet; and one by the much more famous artist Aelbert Cuyp, who like van Calraet worked in Dordrecht. Both this and the Wallace Collection version bear a false Cuyp signature, presumably added later to increase its value.

Style: Baroque
Pieter Jacobsz. Codde specialised in small-scale genre paintings showing interior scenes such as games of backgammon, music-making or 'merry company' pictures of tavern revellers. His pictures show him to be a close observer of human life and he often set his figures in grey-brown rooms in which they stand out against the buff background.

A Woman Holding a Mirror is a calm and reflective work showing a fashionably dressed young woman who has paused from trying on outfits (a discarded dress lies on the table) to check her appearance in a mirror. She looks out at the viewer as if to seek our approval for her choice. It is just the sort of simple and comforting domestic scene that would have been familiar to Codde’s buyers.

It is perhaps tempting to see the presence of the mirror as a  symbol of vanity and the painting as an allegory of transitory beauty. However, the woman does not look at the mirror so it is more likely that Codde was not aiming for layers of meaning but intended the scene to be taken at face value. This is also a painting about the artist’s skill. He enlivens what could be a static scene with bright touches such as the flash of the gown's red lining and the elaborate and expensive lace. In the corner he adds a small, jokey aside of a cat staring fixedly at a mouse. He also invites us to look at the paintings on the walls, pictures within a picture.

As well as painting genre scenes Codde was also a portraitist, so the woman in the picture was perhaps based on a real person. But whoever she was, it is a pleasure to observe her as she goes about her daily routine.

Style: Baroque