Expressionism Art Collection | Perfect for Wall Art, Prints

Stillleben mit Tuch, Blumen im Krug, Apfel und Behälter auf Tisch (1909-1910)

Alexej von Jawlensky (Russian, 1864–1941)

A rumpled tablecloth cradles a jug of bold flowers, their petals almost vibrating against the muted background. Nearby, an apple and a simple container sit quietly, their forms distilled to essential shapes. Color hums with quiet intensity, turning an ordinary still life into something charged and alive.
Roofs of houses in Eisenerz (1912)

Fritz Lach (Austrian, 1868–1933)

Crimson rooftops cluster tightly under a brooding sky, their jagged angles cutting through the muted tones of Eisenerz. The houses press together like old neighbors sharing secrets, their slanted roofs whispering of alpine winters and sheltered lives in the Austrian hills.
Tänzerin (between 1925 and 1930)

Brynolf Wennerberg (Swedish, 1866–1950)

A lone dancer twists mid-air, limbs slicing through space. The bold strokes and stark contrasts electrify the movement, freezing a fleeting instant of raw energy. Every line pulses with rhythm, as if the figure might leap off the canvas at any moment.
Nude little girl in a blue cap (1928)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A child stares solemnly, her blue cap casting soft shadows. The simplicity of her pose belies an unsettling depth—neither fully innocent nor worldly, caught in that fleeting space between. The colors hum quietly, as if holding their breath.
Stogi (1931)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

Children in stiff, angular coats stand solemnly, their faces blank masks. The scene feels both playful and unsettling—like a folk tale turned strange. Harsh lines carve the figures into geometric fragments, yet there’s a quiet tension humming beneath the surface. Something lingers in their hollow eyes.
Kopf einer alten Frau mit der Hand am Mund

Karoline Kubin (Austrian, 1860–1945)

An old woman’s face, weathered and worn, her hand pressed to her mouth as if stifling a whisper—or a cry. The rough brushstrokes carve deep shadows, turning hesitation into something raw, urgent. A portrait that doesn’t just show age, but the weight of unspoken words.
Tänzerin auf der Bühne (circa 1940)

Brynolf Wennerberg (Swedish, 1866–1950)

A lone dancer twists mid-air, limbs slicing through the stage lights. The brushstrokes crackle with movement—every line thrums with the tension between control and abandon. Not a performance, but the raw electricity of a body in motion, frozen at its most precarious moment.
Fragment of a house with two trees (1920)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A tilted house leans into the wind, its walls splintered between two twisted trees. The landscape buckles under unseen pressure, shapes bending as if seen through warped glass. Something familiar fractures here—home, stability—yet the trees stand, stubborn and gnarled against the sky’s uneasy weight.
Dziecko przed domem (1924)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A child stands alone before a house, their small figure dwarfed by angular walls. The scene hums with quiet tension—something unseen lingers in the stark geometry of the building, the way shadows cling to the child’s silhouette. Poland’s muted colors whisper a story half-told.