wrmthorne/National_Gallery_style_classification huggingface dataset:
A thin-faced man with a hooked nose gazes directly out at us. He wears a black hat and his dark grey garments are perhaps made of watered silk: an irregular swirling black pattern extends across both chest and the puffed shoulders. There are no indications of the sitter's identity.

The picture is painted in oil on a walnut panel covered with a chalk ground and a very thin layer of lead white priming. Infrared reflectograms show no sign of underdrawing: the artist, Corneille de Lyon may have painted from life. Although smaller and more close up than Portrait of a Man holding a Glove and Portrait of a Man in a Black Biretta, the style and technique are the same. The eyes are, as usual, not quite horizontal, the head not quite vertical. Here the sitter's moustache conceals the corners of his mouth so that he cannot have the incipient smile found in many of Corneille's portraits. His expression is rather stern.

This small picture has not been cut down -- it was always this size. The ground continues to the edges of the panel all round; in places the paint has even dripped over the edges. It seems to have been framed before it was completely dry. At the top edge, a line of gold and a fragment of wood from the lost original frame are stuck to the paint, and at the bottom edge there are disruptions to the paint and traces of gold.

Corneille and his workshop produced many small portraits which stuck to a successful formula, flattering to his sitters. It's hard to distinguish between his works and those of his followers: the same expressions, backgrounds and schemes of lighting are endlessly reproduced, the only difference being the level of technical skill. His only well-authenticated portrait is of the lawyer Pierre Aymeric (now in the Louvre, Paris), on which Aymeric wrote in his own hand that it had been painted at Lyon by Corneille; many other works are attributed to Corneille because they resemble this portrait. The artist's business practices have compounded this problem: he exhibited his small portraits of notables of the French court in a large room, which the Venetian ambassador visited in 1551 and Catherine de' Medici in 1554, and it seems that visitors could purchase or commission copies to be made by his assistants.

Fragments from what might be a newspaper on the back of the picture show that it was once in a German-speaking country.

Style: High Renaissance
Time has not been kind to this picture. Colours have been darkened by layers of old varnish and some outlines made indistinct, but Teniers’ delight in small episodes in peasant life and his portrayal of entertaining characters remains undimmed. Many of his paintings show an invented landscape, this view perhaps shows a castle in the distance that may one day be identified.

The sky is vast. A river meanders across the middle ground then turns sharply to the right, where the flurry of small white waves indicates more turbulent water. Two men fish on the bank close to us. Judging by the new shoots on the two willow trees, one near the cottage and the other by the river, this is a spring scene. The huge pile of pots by the young maid -- a heavy session of spring cleaning -- seems to confirm it. But Teniers was never content with showing a pleasant view and peasants at work: as ever, he gives us interaction between interesting and usually comical characters.

The maid, working hard in her cheerful red dress, enlivens the scene with the bright touch of colour. She turns to look at the old man, who glances back at her -- seemingly just a passing greeting. But then we see the shadowy figure in the doorway of the cottage. An older woman leans back to look at the maid, her expression inscrutable, leaving us to interpret the story Teniers painted -- perhaps one with the innuendo for which he was famous.

Teniers used these characters many times. The old man bears a strong resemblance to the white-bearded character of Winter in a group of paintings of the seasons in the National Gallery, while the figure of a woman leaning back to look out of a doorway is repeated in A View of a Village with Three Peasants talking in the Foreground. And he didn't stop at figures: the cottages in this painting and in A View of a Village carry a thatcher’s trademark, a crown made of reeds, on the rooftop. A hoist is shown from both their top windows, ready to haul the autumn harvest into the attic for storing.

Teniers’ paintings were highly prized in his time and he became extremely successful internationally, working for King Philip IV of Spain, Prince William of Orange and Archduke Leopold William, the Governor of the Netherlands. He was wealthy enough to buy a large country house and towards the end of his life was made a nobleman.

Style: Baroque
This panel comes from an altarpiece of the Virgin and Child surrounded by narrative scenes depicting the life of Saints Joachim and Anna and miracles of the Virgin.

Its two scenes show stories from the life of a so-called saint, Helsinus, an English abbot who introduced the Feast of the Immaculate Conception to England. The miracles in these panels were recorded in a twelfth-century text by an English monk called Eadmer, who supported the idea that the Virgin Mary was conceived without sin. Both miracles promote the celebration of the feast of the Virgin’s conception.

In the top scene, Helsinus is shown preaching to a crowd about the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, fulfilling the promise he made to a bishop saint when he was saved from a shipwreck. The artist uses architecture and props to describe what is happening: to show that he is preaching, Helsinus stands at a pulpit at the entrance to a pink marble church with a tall campanile (bell tower). Nestled between two peaks is a fortified building, probably intended to represent a distant town. Infrared reflectography, which shows the drawings under the paint surface, has revealed that the artist drew the pulpit as an open structure, without sides. Pulpits with open sides also appear in paintings by the Venetian painters Paolo and Lorenzo Veneziano -- this similarity in design connects the unknown artist of this panel to Venetian painters.

The lower part of the panel concludes the story of a French canon which began on the panel to the left. The adulterous canon had been drowned and his soul stolen by a pack of devils: they claimed that they had taken him because he was doing 'their work' -- in other words, committing sin through adultery. However, the canon had also been singing the Office of the Virgin at the time -- a series of hymns, psalms and scriptural readings devoted to Mary -- so the Virgin reasoned that in fact he belonged to her.

According to the story the demons scattered at these words and the Virgin commanded the water to part, which presumably enabled the canon's body to be shown upright, as here. This scene shows the Virgin Mary, accompanied by a group of angels, commanding two angels with long golden wings to restore the canon to life: one holds his head up while the other places a praying baby, representing his soul, carefully into his mouth. In return, the Virgin made the canon swear not to commit adultery again and to celebrate the feast of her conception on 8 December.

Style: Gothic, Early Renaissance
Age and youth, grandmother and granddaughter perhaps, an unknown artist and unknown sitters. What more can there be to say with such an undefined beginning -- is it even safe to say they are grandmother and granddaughter? Perhaps not, but their apparent ages and the one firm, fond hand holding the other would suggest so. There's a strong likeness about the eyes, mouth, chin, and the wide forehead revealed by the impeccable hair, drawn back under the bonnet.

When did they live, this serene pair? The little girl is the clue. Her pink coat, padded panniers and falling collar edged with lace were fashionable in the 1630s. By 1645 they had almost completely gone out of fashion. Made in several pieces, the coat with a central opening reveals a stiffened bodice worn over a heavy satin petticoat. The panniers and the collar are also separate. She's too young for a corset, but the cumbersome garments were unyielding and tight, restricting the child's movements and ensuring the correct deportment for a well-brought up young lady in later years. The old woman's dress is archaic but still costly. In the Dutch Republic at this time, black dye was exorbitantly expensive and black garments were a sign of wealth, as the many portraits by Frans Hals and Rembrandt with the sitters in black would confirm. But her collar is a ruff from a bygone age, seen as antiquated and only worn by the elderly.

Where are they? The landscape is a little strange and certainly unusual for a portrait of this kind. The feathery painting of the leaves and the distant, misty hills under grey clouds seem to have little in common with the way the sitters have been painted. There is an attempt at a few plants at the grandmother's side, but they are lost in the blanket brown of this part of the picture -- probably caused by fading or accumulated old coats of varnish. Behind the little girl is a dimly realised wicket gate and part of a fence, suggesting that they have wandered together out of a formal park into the moorland beyond. The landscape may have been painted by a different artist, and there does seem to be a discrepancy in how they perceive the sitters, one seeing them as a touching study in family hierarchy, the other simply as rather unlikely figures in a wild landscape.

Perhaps the greatest puzzle of all is the object that the grandmother holds in her hand. It could be a bird's egg, perhaps found in a nest on their walk, or it could be a stone they've picked up. It is given prominence so it must be important, and she holds it delicately and with care. To the Dutch at the time, an egg was often a Christian symbol of the Resurrection and immortality. A stone represented a home for the living and a home for the dead -- and was therefore a symbol of the divine and eternal.

Style: Baroque
What does a poet do if they deal in pictures not words? Jan van Goyen's painting, his view of the wide sweep of the Netherlandish landscape -- bleak chalk rocks, still water, a distant church tower -- is a poetic vision. Seen from a sandy rising, the horizon is low and the sky vast. Just a few birds wheel in the towering clouds. He left fine brush marks in the sky, sweeping downwards to make sure we know that rain is moving in little squalls across the landscape.

The windmill watches over the vast space, its sails fragile but indomitable. Close by, lit by a watery ray of sun, tiny figures sit hunched up, heft a heavy weight or plod placidly on horseback. They’re turned away from us, faceless -- each back with a personality of its own, but in its own world. Further out, on the left at the water's edge, there's a rustle of life. Even smaller figures, little more than pinpricks, dig in the mud for bait or tend the small boats. Their sails look transparent, frail as a fly's wings. Beyond them, in the grey distance, the spires of village churches break the horizon, the furthest perched on a steep sloping cliff, the clouds gathering over it. The cliff is seemingly out of place in the flat Dutch terrain, but it gives the eye a focus to ease the feeling of unrelenting distance.

Van Goyen made many exquisite drawings of the countryside. Later, in his studio, he used them to paint pictures so evocative and atmospheric that they're seemingly 'emotion remembered in tranquillity' -- which is how William Wordsworth, the English poet, described poetry.

Although van Goyen lived and worked in The Hague, he travelled widely. He is associated with and was very influential in the development of the 'tonal phase' of Dutch painting that started in Haarlem, in which tones of the same shade rather than a mixture of colours were used to achieve an effect or an atmosphere. As here, van Goyen worked in a restricted colour palette -- mainly browns, white and greys with green and a touch of ochre or deep blue here and there. Other artists experimented alongside him, particularly Salomon van Ruysdael -- look at his A View of Deventer seen from the North-West.

These artists were aiming at an image of the Dutch countryside that was realistic and uncompromising. Perhaps this can be accounted for in their religious beliefs -- Calvinism, a strict branch of Protestantism -- or by a love of a country that had been hard won from the sea by the building of dams and was as yet uncultivated. Or perhaps the many people who bought them liked a reminder of the cold northern weather outside when sitting in their new and comfortable Dutch homes.

These all may play a part, but it was the experiment in tonal painting and his unique vision of reality that gave van Goyen the ability to turn his landscapes into visual poetry.

Style: Baroque
An atmospheric light, something characteristic of Emanuel de Witte’s many church interiors, falls on the congregation gathered to hear a sermon. De Witte started his career as a figure painter but became exceptionally skilled in painting the interplay of light and architecture, especially in his church interiors. De Witte painted many churches while working in Alkmaar, Delft, Rotterdam and lastly Amsterdam, where he painted this view of the nave and north aisle of the Oude Kerk (Saint Nicholas Church).

The congregation has gathered to listen to the preacher, who stands on the pulpit, facing the crowd and us, theatrically raising his left arm. De Witte here seems to have taken as much delight in painting the figures as he did in painting the building's architecture. The crouching mother attentively reading the Bible while her son looks on is a good example -- her collar just catches the light, as does the elegant clothing of the man stood with his hand on his hip.

The church organ, which is visible here behind the pulpit, was renovated between 1658 and 1659. This painting was likely made afterwards (the organ appears in its previous state in one of de Witte’s paintings dated to 1654). The large church windows neatly divide the composition into three compartments. The stone tracery in the upper parts of these windows contain stained glass, and the centre panel of the middle window displays Amsterdam’s coat of arms: a red shield and a black pale with three silver Saint Andrew's crosses. The other stained-glass panels depict heraldry that is less easily recognisable. Outside the windows, de Witte has painted the silhouettes of buildings and trees with great effect. In The Interior of the Oude Kerk, Amsterdam, during a Sermon, de Witte has depicted this view from the other side of the church.

There's a slightly subversive detail in the foreground of this otherwise tranquil environment: two dogs sniff at each other, and the bigger one lifts its hind leg to urinate. The city of Amsterdam employed so-called ‘hondenslagers’ or ‘hondenmeppers' to keep dogs out of churches, and the behaviour of these dogs is an example of why. The congregation in de Witte's picture, however, does not seem to have been disturbed -- people listen to the preacher and study their Bibles.

Style: Baroque
We know little about Montagna's training but it is possible that he spent some time in Giovanni Bellini's workshop in Venice. This composition, in which the holy figures are shown in half-length often set against a landscape background and usually behind a marble ledge, ​was pioneered by the Venetian master.

The infant Christ sits on a huge book, probably a Bible, perhaps a reference to the Christian theology that he was the fulfilment of the prophecies of the Old Testament. Mother and child each hold a cherry, a fruit which symbolised paradise -- a reminder that Christ was the son of God and the gateway to heaven.

The landscape background includes common motifs in northern Italian painting, like mountains, water and buildings, which originally came from Netherlandish painting. The natural rocky archway to the left of Christ's head reflects a fashion in the painting of the region for fantastical rock formations, and is a common feature of early works by Montagna. The Renaissance-style church with its delicate pink facade and portico facing a calm lagoon is an unusually elaborate and specific feature for this kind of devotional picture. Graceful figures approach the building, perhaps having reached it by gondola, two of which are moored nearby.

Montagna probably made this painting quite early in his career: it is close to Bellini's images of the Virgin and Child, for example in its simple but striking forms. The broad triangle of the blue mantle and the way in which the anatomy is constructed from firmly outlined shapes may reflect the work of  Antonello da Messina, who was in Venice from 1475. This is particularly clear in the Virgin's almost doll-like fingers, which bend at the joints at an improbably straight angle. The thumb of the Virgin's left hand is shown head-on, just as it is in Antonello's image of Christ Blessing in our collection. Both artists used a technique called foreshortening to recreate such a view.

Style: Early Renaissance
This vibrant scene shows a crowd of pilgrims who have gathered to honour Notre-Dame-de-Bon-Secours at Guingamp, in Brittany. Pardon days, which take place on the first Sunday in July and the preceding Saturday, are a mixture of piety and celebration. Once the pilgrims, dressed in their finest costumes, have confessed their sins, Mass and Vespers follow. After the faithful have been granted absolution the festivities start. The Pardon is an ancient Breton tradition that is thought to go back to the conversion of Brittany by Celtic monks.

This folkloric scene and the ancient faith it suggested became popular with painters in the second half of the nineteenth century when Brittany itself became accessible courtesy of the railways, and Parisians came into contact with the region’s picturesque costumes and traditions. Jules Breton, Pascal Dagnan-Bouveret and Charles Cottet all painted Pardons, while Paul Gauguin and Emile Bernard also painted mystical versions of Breton religious life.

Pierre-Charles Poussin was born in Paris, and was taught by Léon Cogniet and, according to a birth certificate he witnessed in 1860, Marie-Félix Parmentier. He exhibited at the Salon from 1842, often showing scenes of Breton peasant life. He also tried his hand at classical landscapes in the manner of his namesake Nicolas Poussin. His Breton pictures could have a rough edge, showing, for example, boys stoning a tethered goose for fun or a donkey frightened by two men brawling.

Pardon Day in Brittany was painted in 1851 and has the wide sweep of a panorama. It is a scene to be read from side to side, and Poussin has filled it with small incidental details to catch the eye. A scuffle has broken out in the background on the right; a pedlar sells ribbons to a cluster of onlookers to the left; a broken bottle in the foreground suggests that drink has been taken; a woman peels turnips and fish are laid out ready for the meal. In front of the pilgrims a still life of shellfish, apples, pitchers, vegetables and ham advertises the artist’s skill.

In 1870 an English visitor described the Guingamp Pardon gathering as a 'frank but sedate festivity and merry-making under the trees'. The action here is indeed decorous, suggesting that this halt in the woods is taking place prior to the celebrations. Then, perhaps, things might come to resemble the peasant wedding scenes painted by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, which this image brings to mind. This moment of calm, however, allows Poussin to show his skill at capturing costumes (repeated elements of red, turquoise and buff tie the image together) and the picturesque variety of poses, faces and ages (there is a child on the far left, the far right and in the middle of the foreground groups, leading the eye across the picture).

It is clear that Poussin’s interest is above all pictorial: this may be a religious gathering but there isn’t a single priest or crucifix to be seen.

Style: Realist
People are hard at work on boats beside the small island of San Pietro in the area of Castello, which spans the eastern part of Venice. While the nearby district of San Marco was popular with tourists, as it is today, this quieter corner of the city was a largely working-class neighbourhood. Many of its residents were tradesmen and labourers, and they sailed between Venice and the mainland ports to trade.

Canaletto repeatedly used daily life in Venice, and ordinary Venetians, as inspiration for his pictures, while earlier Venetian view painters -- Luca Carlevarijs in particular -- largely concentrated on ceremonial scenes for tourists. Here, the foreground is a hive of activity. Close to us, fishermen trail their nets; one man leans over the side of his boat to haul in his catch, as do several others further back. To the far right, a gondolier moors up beside the bow of a larger vessel, its masts and rigging accurately observed. A gondola is rowed at pace past these stationary craft. One boat, laden with hay and timber, has arrived from the mainland, and its sail is lowered by a man on board as several others begin to unload the cargo. Further back, more trading vessels are at anchor, their sails stirred by a gentle breeze. Beyond is the lagoon, with the Dolomite mountains in the hazy distance.

Over an arched wooden bridge, figures walk to and from a small complex of buildings aglow in the bright sunlight. Until 1807, the grand church of San Pietro served as the city's cathedral, while the Basilica di San Marco was the private church of the doge (the Venetian head of state). The patriarchal palace is between the church and its campanile (bell tower); the coat of arms above the third window are those of the Patriarch (bishop) Lorenzo Priuli (who died in 1601).

The painting was given to the National Gallery in 1879, together with another view by Canaletto, Venice: Entrance to the Cannaregio. The two pictures are of a similar size and were long considered pendants, but the difference in the scale of the figures suggests that Canaletto did not intended them to be hung as a pair. The warm, sultry sun on the buildings here is noticeably different to the cooler light of the other picture.

Style: Baroque, Rococo