Explore Artworks

Woman with a Rake (1856–57)

Jean-François Millet (French, 1814–1875)

A woman pauses mid-motion, rake in hand, her sturdy frame silhouetted against the earth. The weight of labor lingers in her bent posture, yet there’s quiet determination in her grip. No idyllic countryside—just raw, unadorned toil. The field stretches ahead, endless under her calloused palms.
Fleurs dans un pot (Roses et brouillard) (1878)

Claude Monet (French, 1840–1926)

Soft petals blur into mist, their edges dissolving like morning fog. The vase anchors them—just barely—amid swirls of color that pulse with life. These roses aren’t still; they breathe.
A fashionable beauty

Albert Lynch (Peruvian, 1851–1912)

A woman in elegant attire gazes past the viewer, her poised silhouette framed by soft light. The delicate folds of her dress and the tilt of her hat suggest effortless grace, capturing the allure of high fashion with quiet confidence. There’s an unspoken story in her distant expression.
Melody

Henry Ryland (English, 1856–1924)

A woman sits absorbed in her music, fingers poised over the strings. The soft drape of her gown echoes the curve of the instrument, blending movement with stillness. Light catches the edge of her profile, leaving the rest in quiet shadow—a moment suspended between note and silence.
The Cap that Fits

Eleanor Fortescue-Brickdale (English, 1872–1945)

A young woman holds a feathered cap, her gaze distant yet resolute. The rich fabrics and muted tones suggest a moment of quiet decision—perhaps a choice between duty and desire. Something unspoken lingers in the air, as tangible as the cap in her hands.
Le Coq de roche du Pérou. (1806)

Jacques Barraband (French, unknown)

A fiery splash of orange and black perches against muted greens—the cock-of-the-rock’s plumage burns bright, its sharp beak and watchful eye hinting at wild, unseen forests. Every feather seems alive, painted with a precision that makes the bird almost breathe on the page.
A Ray of Sunlight (1898)

John White Alexander (American, 1856–1915)

A woman bathed in golden light turns slightly, her face half-hidden. The sun catches the folds of her dress, casting soft shadows that seem to breathe. There’s a quiet intensity in her averted gaze—something unspoken, lingering just beyond the frame.
Girl with a pomegranate (1875)

William Bouguereau (French, 1825–1905)

A young girl cradles a split pomegranate, its ruby seeds spilling into her palm. Her gaze holds quiet intensity, the fruit’s juice staining her fingertips. The folds of her dress catch the light, soft against the ripe weight in her hands. Something unspoken lingers between her and the broken fruit.
Go Lovely Rose! Tell her that Wastes her Time and Mine

Herbert James Draper (English, 1863–1920)

A woman cradles a rose, her gaze distant. The petals mirror her delicate features, both poised between bloom and decay. Time slips like water through her fingers—the flower’s message urgent, unheeded.
The Bookworm (circa 1851)

Carl Spitzweg (German, 1808–1885)

A hunched figure perches precariously on a ladder, utterly absorbed in his book. Towering shelves crammed with volumes surround him, their spines glowing in warm lamplight. One slippered foot dangles absentmindedly as he leans deeper into the pages, oblivious to the world beyond his literary cocoon.
Abbildungen zu Oken’s Allgemeiner Naturgeschichte für alle Stände Pl.026 (1841)

Lorenz Oken (German, unknown)

Delicate veins branch across translucent leaves, each curve etched with precision. A hidden world unfolds in the cross-section of stems, revealing nature’s intricate architecture. The lines blur between science and art, where every detail pulses with quiet purpose.
The Dancer (1898)

Edward John Poynter (English, 1836–1919)

A poised ballerina, mid-step, her delicate form draped in flowing fabric. The light catches the folds of her skirt as she balances effortlessly, exuding grace. Every line suggests movement frozen in time, inviting you to imagine the music guiding her next turn.
Summer evening on the beach at Skagen. The painter and his wife (1899)

Peder Severin Krøyer (Danish, unknown)

Golden light spills across wet sand as two figures walk hand in hand through the shallows, their long shadows stretching toward the water’s edge. The fading sun paints the sky in soft pinks and blues, mirroring the quiet rhythm of waves lapping at their feet.
Nature morte sur une nappe à carreaux rouges (circa 1930-35)

Pierre Bonnard (French, 1867–1947)

A red-checkered tablecloth anchors the scene, its bold pattern softening under scattered objects. The colors hum quietly—warm ochres, muted greens—as if caught in afternoon light. Nothing feels staged; each element rests where it fell, holding the quiet tension of a moment paused mid-breath.
The Holy Family (1753)

Nöel Hallé (French, 1711–1781)

A tender scene unfolds—Mary cradles the infant Jesus while Joseph watches protectively. Warm light bathes the figures, their quiet intimacy framed by classical simplicity. The moment feels both sacred and strikingly human.