Impressionism Art Collection | Perfect for Wall Art, Prints - Page 11 of 16

Summer (1890)

Frank Weston Benson (American, 1862–1951)

Sunlight dapples through the trees as a woman in white lounges on the grass, her hat tipped back. The breeze carries the scent of warm earth and crushed stems. Nearby, another figure bends to gather flowers, their skirts brushing against the long summer grass. Lazy afternoon light pools around them.
Baigneuses (1892)

Berthe Morisot (French, 1841–1895)

Two women wade in shallow water, their dresses clinging to their limbs. Sunlight dapples the surface, blurring the line between reflection and skin. A breeze stirs the reeds; their laughter hangs just beyond the canvas.
A Woman Seated at a Bench on the Avenue du Bois (1885)

Berthe Morisot (French, 1841–1895)

A woman in a flowing dress sits alone on a bench, dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. The broad avenue stretches behind her, alive with the blur of passing carriages and distant strollers. Her stillness anchors the scene, a quiet figure amid the bustling Parisian promenade.
Une soirée au Pré-Catelan (1909)

Henri Gervex (French, 1852–1929)

Laughter floats through the lantern-lit garden as silk skirts brush against tailored suits. Glasses clink under the trees, their reflections shimmering in dark puddles from an earlier rain. Paris hums beyond the hedges, but here, time stretches like the shadows across damp gravel.
Girl Reading

Frederick Carl Frieseke (American, 1874–1939)

A woman sits absorbed in her book, sunlight dappling the pages. The room hums with quiet warmth, her dress blending into the floral patterns around her. No urgency, just the slow turn of a page—a private world wrapped in soft light.
Grove of Trees (1888–1890)

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (French, 1841–1919)

Dappled sunlight filters through the leaves, casting shifting patterns across the grove. Loose brushstrokes blur the line between earth and sky, trees swaying in an unseen breeze. The air hums with warmth, alive with the quiet rustle of branches.
The Trio (1898)

Robert Reid (American, 1862–1929)

Three women gather, their faces lit by unseen light. One holds a violin, another leans in as if catching a whispered melody. The third listens, her hands resting lightly on the keys of a piano. The air hums with unplayed music, a shared moment before the first note breaks the silence.
L’Arc de Triomphe, Place de l’Étoile

Eugène Galien-Laloue (French, 1854–1941)

Paris hums under a winter sky, carriages clattering past the Arc de Triomphe’s grand silhouette. Gas lamps flicker to life, their glow softening the crisp edges of stone. The city’s pulse quickens as dusk settles—a fleeting balance of monument and motion, frozen in brushstrokes.
At Templestowe (1889)

Arthur Streeton (Australian, unknown)

Golden light spills over rolling hills, softening the edges of scattered trees. The land breathes under a wide sky, warm and drowsy. Brushstrokes hum with quiet energy, as if the air itself shimmers. A moment suspended—not grand, but alive. You can almost hear the grass rustle.