wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
In 1850, early in his career, Henri-Joseph Harpignies went to Italy, visiting Rome and Naples until 1852. While there, he explored the Campagna, the countryside around the city, where his passion for landscape painting began. He wrote several times that he loved Rome so much he wished never to return to France, and -- as he repeatedly referred to his love for the city -- perhaps in his mind he never did. The style of the picture is that of his work in the 1850s, but the precise date is unknown. The scene is possibly imaginary, but it certainly recalls the Campagna in its craggy beauty and arresting contrast in light.

A man stands on the winding path beneath the dark, forbidding cliffs. He gazes out across the river, his white cap, coat and backpack lifting the bleakness of the cliffs behind him. High above him, the sun catches a strange construction on the cliff top then reaches across to the far hillside, bathing it in luminous warmth. On the far bank of the river, poplar trees grow in grey, gravelly soil, their reflections perfect in the still water.

Patches of canvas visible under thin paint create texture, giving the suggestion of broken clouds in the clear light of the sky; these are reflected in the water by curved flicks of the brush in blue, white and purple. The trunks of the poplars are painted with quite pronounced impasto and one is lightly outlined in black. Harpignies used this technique throughout his career (see Olive Trees at Menton, painted in his retirement), long after he abandoned the heavy, rough strokes with which he has depicted the cliffs, the teeth-like rocks and the red soil of the hill. This early style suggests that he might have developed into an Impressionist painter, but a return to Rome in 1863 changed his direction.

Between his visits to Rome, Harpignies had stayed for a while in Barbizon with artists like Jean François Millet, but he had never quite adopted their version of modernism -- gritty, often disturbing, subjects, like poverty-stricken men and women involved in crushing labour. Nor did he align himself with the Impressionists and their heavy impasto and scenes of the city, often considered by critics and the public as in questionable taste. On his second visit to Rome, Harpignies met Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot and became his friend and follower. The two men chose to follow the path of the seventeenth-century classical artists Claude and Poussin, using their smoother, more delicate technique and with people and nature in harmony.

Style: Realist
This early morning view leads down through a green valley to a distant chain of mountains. From the grassy outcrop on the left there is a vertiginous drop into the valley, which in its sweep towards the menacing line of mountains in the distance fades from green to blue. The valley is criss-crossed with dark green tree lines, the trees conjured up out of small swirls of the brush. The sky is painted in warm shades of pink, the clouds surrounding the central peak painted in blue.

The view is in the Cantal region of the Auvergne. In 1830 Rousseau spent several months in the area in the company of fellow artist Prosper Marilhat (1811–1847). An area of wild, unspoilt nature with significant geological features, the region was a popular subject for landscape painters --  when Rousseau first exhibited at the Salon in 1831 he showed a view of the Auvergne.  The valley depicted here, through which the river Mars runs, is home to a number of villages, including Saint-Vincent-de-Salers. The valley is one of those that radiate out from the foot of the Puy Mary, one of the principal summits of the Cantal region, and the highest peak visible here. To the left lies the small peak of the Puy de Peyre Ares, and the pointed peak to the right of the Puy Mary is the Col de Redondet. The rocks in the extreme left foreground are the Rochers d’Angouran.

Rousseau painted and drew a number of views of these valleys, including Valley in the Auvergne Mountains (Saint Louis Art Museum), which appears to show the Col de Redonet at the centre. In common with his other studies dating from this visit, our view was painted on paper in the open air. The foreground and middle ground are quite thinly worked, with the white of the  ground showing through. The mountains and sky are fluidly painted with long flowing brushstrokes. Rousseau painted the mountain range on top of the sky, and added the clouds last, overlapping mountains and sky. The composition has been extended with a strip of paper along the top, easily visible due to the difference in colouration. This was added after Rousseau’s death. In 1867 he had sold a group of plein air studies, including this work, to the dealers Durand-Ruel and Brame, who exhibited them in a special exhibition in June that year. At this point the painting was smaller, without the added strip.

Style: Neoclassical, Barbizon
This angel comes from a pala (an altarpiece with a single, unified surface) which was sawn into pieces in the eighteenth century but reassembled by the National Gallery in the 1930s. It was made for a confraternity of priests in Pistoia, and shows the Trinity with saints and angels. The main panel was begun by Francesco Pesellino and finished by Fra Filippo Lippi after Pesellino's death in 1457.

Two angels hover on either side of the Trinity -- this one is on the left -- their draperies and ribbons flying around them: they're clearly beating their wings hard to stay aloft. These figures seem to have been completed by Pesellino, rather than Lippi. He was moving away from the graceful style he inherited from  Fra Angelico towards a more dynamic way of depicting figures. He also seems to have developed a greater interest in how bodies work in space. Both angels hang horizontally in the air, looking down at the Cross, their heads and bodies foreshortened. One -- on the right -- is shown angled towards us, while this one is angled away.

Given its history, this fragment is in surprisingly good condition. The angel's wings have darkened and his green robe has discoloured, so that it contrasts less with the yellow lining. The underdrawing (the preliminary outlining of a composition) of the whole panel is very detailed, and some of it is visible through the paint layer; if you look closely you can see the drawing of the angel's face and hair. Technical analysis allows us to see changes between the underdrawing and the final painted stage: this angel's drapery originally fluttered above his feet, and his right foot was in a different position.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
This long and fantastically detailed painting is a precious survivor of Renaissance interior decoration -- and it gives us an idea of just how spectacular this could be. It's one of a pair of panels made to commemorate a marriage, perhaps of one of the Medici, the ruling family of fifteenth-century Florence. They were perhaps once set into the panelling of a bed chamber.It shows the story of King David, who started life as a shepherd boy but rose to fame when he killed the giant Goliath, an enemy of Israel. According to the Old Testament, David was left behind when his brothers joined the Israelite army, which was fighting the Philistines. One day his father sent him to the army camp with food for them and he heard the Philistine champion, Goliath, challenge the Israelites to single combat. No one dared to respond even though Saul, King of Israel, promised great rewards to whoever killed the giant -- including his daughter's hand in marriage. In spite of his youth and inexperience, and his brothers' scorn, David offered to fight.On the far left, David sits on the river bank, minding his father's flocks. The stream helps us follow the narrative: it flows from left to right, in and out of the panel, joining the most important incidents. We next see him bending down to collect five smooth stones to put in the sling which he carries over his shoulder; according to the Bible, he preferred these to conventional weapons. In the corner are the lions which David boasted to the doubtful Saul he had killed.Next, David stands before Saul, who is mounted on a grey horse, and protests against the armour that servants are putting on him: he would rather fight without it. In the centre there's a violent battle. The Israelites, dressed as contemporary knights in armour, charge the Philistines, who wear turbans. David, in pink, swings his sling, taking aim at the armoured Goliath, whose forehead is already bleeding. Immediately behind him, the Israelite cavalry is led by a knight with a gold torch holder on his surcoat (tunic) -- this was an emblem used by the Medici, and is still displayed on the corner of the Palazzo Medici in Florence. Finally, in the foreground, David beheads the fallen giant.Pesellino was influenced by Paolo Uccello, especially in his doll-like, if very conspicuously male, horses. They are similar to those in Uccello's Niccolò Mauruzi da Tolentino at the Battle of San Romano, though more lifelike. Pesellino had clearly studied real horses -- look at the grey and the chestnut struggling in the foreground, and the fallen grey rolling on top of his knight by the river -- although he was also influenced by equestrian sculpture. His interest in nature recalls the paintings of Pisanello, though it's hard to know how much he was influenced by Pisanello, and how much both were catering to the tastes of a sophisticated, courtly audience.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
Johann Friedrich the Magnanimous was Elector of Saxony from 1532 until 1547. In this portrait he is a six-year-old child, but Cranach has depicted him higher up and closer to the viewer than his father appears in the accompanying portrait. He is positioned close to the edge of the frame, dominating most of the composition.

The portrait presents Johann Friedrich as the ruler he will become, rather than the child he is. His elaborate clothes emphasise his status: set against a black background, he wears a vibrant tartan coat, a heavy gold chain and an elaborate hat adorned with gold brooches and a plume of ostrich feathers. He clutches the hilt of his sword with both hands.

Cranach continued to paint Johann Friedrich throughout his life, and these portraits show how the angelic blonde boy in this picture grew into a portly man with receding short dark hair and a curly moustache. He was committed to the Protestant cause and a dedicated follower of the teachings of Martin Luther. His support of Luther led to an escalation of tensions with the Holy Roman Empire and, at the Battle of Mühlberg against Catholic Charles V in 1547, Johann Friedrich was defeated and sent into exile. He was wounded during the battle, and portraits Cranach made after it emphasise the scar that ran from his eye socket down his cheek.

Style: High Renaissance
This scene probably doesn't represent a particular place but is rather an impression of the Danube valley, where Altdorfer lived. He has picked a number of features typical of the local forest, placing them all within one image: the small stream that runs beneath the bridge, a fortified building and a rocky crag.

Altdorfer has composed the scene from a low viewpoint, which emphasises the height of the wooden footbridge that leads to the gatehouse of a castle. It is the anchor of the scene, joining the building on the left to the wilderness on the right, connecting civilisation with nature. The true subject of the picture, however, is the detailed study of the enormous larch tree at the centre, its branches growing wildly in all directions and the weight of the foliage causing the upper branches to droop. The forest encroaches the bridge on all sides, and clusters of tree trunks mirror its tall supporting posts, contrasting the living wood with the dead. The man-made structures seem frail by comparison to the vast and vital nature all around. Framed by the bridge's stilt-like supports is a small village, the spire of its church reaching up above the tree tops, minuscule in the shadow of the huge rocky mountain in the distance.

Painted with oil paint on parchment stuck on to a wooden panel, this is one of two paintings by Altdorfer of landscapes with no figures (the other is in the Alte Pinakothek, Munich). His interest in the poetry and drama of his local surroundings reflected the development of landscape painting as a subject in its own right at the beginning of the sixteenth century.

Style: High Renaissance
The woman and man in this theatrical double portrait are presented as if they are on a stage. We look up at the sitters, positioned on a raised dais and in front of an architectural set with elements derived from Greek and Roman classical antiquity. A red curtain hangs down on one side.

Dressed in costly black silk garments and looking confidently at us, the portrait of the married couple is a powerful image of the pride and prosperity of seventeenth-century Flanders and its citizens. The woman sitting in a red velvet upholstered armchair sports an abundance of gold jewellery. Standing proudly to the right, the man has a commanding presence: he holds a tall staff with one hand and rests the other on his hip, his elbow turned out towards us. He displays a bold red sash and an ornate sword.  The sash, sword and staff all suggest that this man held a military office. The portrait seems to have a slightly comical note: the man's head is paired with the stone face of a laughing satyr on the pilaster next to him, and his bemused expression is mirrored by the little dog looking straight at us.

The portrait was initially painted three-quarter-length: a horizontal seam running the width of the canvas at a point just level with the man's knees indicates that the composition was subsequently extended. We do not know whether the patron wished for a full-length portrait at a later stage or if the artist decided on the change.

Once thought to represent Govaert van Surpele (1593--1674) and his wife, from Diest in South Brabant, the sitters in this portrait can now almost certainly be identified as belonging to the Antwerp branch of the same family. Cornelis [van Surpele] van Diest, dean of the guild of cloth manufacturers and captain of the city militia, and his wife Lucretia Courtois seem to be the more likely candidates.

Jordaens was not a prolific portrait painter (only around 30 portraits by his hand are known) and it seems that his clientele was exclusively drawn from the well-to-do merchants and burghers of Antwerp. In this case a personal connection between van Diest and Jordaens is likely. From 1634, van Diest owned a house in the same street as the artist’s birthplace, house and studio. Jordaens’ father was also a linen merchant, so there is a good chance the families were acquainted. The single coat of arms in the background, which was probably added soon after the painting was completed, may also be significant for the identification of the sitters. Govaert van Surpele’s wives were from distinguished families with their own coat of arms, which would have been included in the painting, while the family of Lucretia Courtois lacked any armorial insignia.

Style: Baroque
Images of young women being plied with wine were common in seventeenth-century Dutch art and there was usually a certain frisson about the scene. Wine was considered an aphrodisiac, and the suggestion behind an image like this might be that the woman was working as a prostitute or that her virtue was in danger of being corrupted. In this case, although she is under some pressure to drink, she seems to be waving the glass away. Nevertheless, her expression is one of faint amusement rather than steely resolution.

The man who studies his reflection in the mirror doesn't seem to be part of this narrative, and is strangely detached from the activity in the foreground. But he does draw our attention to another theme in this painting: the artist’s interest in reflections and the way that light plays on different surfaces. As well as the image in the mirror, the painter paid great attention to how the polished surface of the marble floor picks up the glow from the woman’s pink dress and the burnished fire dog. The way the sunshine catches the wine glasses, the hilt of the man’s sword, the door handle in the left foreground and the ceramic vases and silk curtains in the background is also carefully portrayed.

Some of these effects were achieved in an unusual way. Gold leaf has been used for the highlights in the fire-dog (which is decorated with seahorses) and in parts of the gilt leather wall hanging to the left of the fireplace. The black and white floor tiles help create a sense of depth and space, and while this was a typical technique in this type of painting, it was usually done with highly regular geometric patterns. Here, the black and white marble does not seem to form a regular design.

The picture above the fireplace seems to be based on figures and elements taken from a print by Antonio Tempesta, Abraham liberating his Nephew Lot, one of a series of Old Testament  battle scenes which were published in 1613. However, it doesn’t seem to have any particular significance to the other themes of the painting.

The picture is unsigned and it has been attributed to at least 12 different artists, most of whom were working in Delft around 1655 to 1670. For example, it is comparable with the paintings of interiors made by Vermeer and de Hooch and can be related to experiments with perspective associated with Fabritius. However, these attributions have not proved convincing, and most recently Ludolf de Jongh has been suggested. He was a Rotterdam painter who travelled a good deal and spent some of his apprenticeship in Delft. However, that was in the 1630s, before Vermeer, de Hooch and Fabritius were working, and the attribution to de Jongh remains only tentative.

Style: Baroque
A pale young woman is set against a dark background. She is dressed sombrely but stylishly: her fair, frizzy hair is drawn back under an elaborate sparkling net. She has several necklaces and she is wearing an olive green gown. It is tightly laced across her chest and slit at the shoulder to show her red-and-white striped underdress.

We do not know who she was, but she was presumably a member of the Sforza court in Milan in the last years of the fifteenth century. The artist, Giovanni Ambrogio de Predis, was the court painter there and her dress was in fashion in the 1490s. On her belt are the letters LO and an image of the head of a Black African man, in profile – possibly an allusion to Ludovico el Moro ['Ludovico the Moor'], Duke of Milan, although it was not one of his usual emblems.

Strangely, this painting was made over the top of another. The panel was first used, the other way up, for a different portrait, a profile of a young man. Infrared reflectography shows underdrawing for an eye, nose, hair and a hat, which was apparently at least partly painted.

The strict profile suggests that this was an official portrait, but the lady is not dressed with the opulence of the highest aristocracy. She was probably not a member of the ducal family. It was once thought that she might be a mistress of Ludovico's but given the painting's formal nature this is perhaps unlikely. It is conceivable that this could be a portrait of his illegitimate daughter, Bianca Giovanna, born in 1482. Ludovico was immensely fond of Bianca, and arranged her marriage to the condottiere and commander of his army, Galeazzo Sanseverino, in 1496. When she died a few months later el Moro wrote a touching letter to her mother, saying that for him their daughter would always be alive. We will probably never be sure of the sitter's real identity.

Profile portraits like this were hugely popular in fourteenth- and fifteenth-century Italy, for both men and women -- as in Alesso Baldovinetti's Portrait of a Lady and Giovanni da Oriolo's Leonello d'Este. The style continued for official portraits even after Leonardo da Vinci had introduced a more naturalistic model to Milan with his Lady with an Ermine (National Museum, Kraków). It perhaps had connotations of aristocracy, and parallels with antique coins and contemporary portrait medals.

De Predis painted a number of profile studies of the ducal family and their connections, including portraits of Bianca Maria Sforza (National Gallery of Art, Washington) and her husband Emperor Maximilian I (Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna).  He also worked with Leonardo on The Virgin with the Infant Saint John the Baptist adoring the Christ Child accompanied by an Angel, for which he painted An Angel in Red with a Lute.

Style: Early Renaissance
A youthful Virgin Mary looks tenderly down at her son, the infant Christ Child, wriggling on her lap. Christ reaches out to embrace Saint John the Baptist, identifiable by the reed cross he holds and the scroll whose inscription – ‘ECCE [AGNU]S DEI’ (‘Behold the Lamb of God’) – refers to the words the Baptist spoke on recognising Christ as the Messiah. The Virgin’s serene expression and bearing contrast sharply with Christ’s animated, twisting pose.

The composition of this painting, which is a relatively late work by the Genoese painter Castello, is constructed along diagonals. The sense of movement within the picture is echoed by the varying degrees of light flickering across the surface and by Castello’s characteristically lively handling of paint. The colouring is rich and intense – the vibrant red of the Virgin’s dress juxtaposed with the deep blue of her cloak – and Castello’s brushwork is spirited and free, especially in the white cloth on which Christ sits, with its folds highlighted with impastoed strokes.

The long-necked Virgin, with her graceful profile and elegant hands, calls to mind the female figures in Parmigianino's work. The setting, with the base of a column in the background, is almost certainly inspired by the portraits Anthony van Dyck painted while in Castello’s native city of Genoa, during his extended stay in Italy in the 1620s.

A very closely related autograph variant of this composition is in the Musée des Beaux-Arts, Nantes. The overall design of the picture is extremely close, though it omits the column base and its handling of paint is much looser, giving the painting a much sketchier appearance overall.

This is one of two seventeenth-century Genoese paintings in the National Gallery – the other is Gioacchino Assereto’s  The Angel appears to Hagar and Ishmael – which come from the collection of the great connoisseur of Italian Baroque painting, Sir Denis Mahon (1910--2011).

Style: Baroque, Academic