Post-Impressionism Art Collection | Perfect for Wall Art, Prints - Page 2 of 9

Norman landscape (Breuilpont) (1927)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A sunlit path winds through the Norman countryside, past thatched cottages with crooked chimneys. The air hums with quiet labor—fields tended, laundry hung out to dry. Every brushstroke holds the weight of simple things done well, the rhythm of rural life undisturbed by time.
Corner of a House (c. 1930s)

Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

Sunlight slants across weathered stone, softening the edges where wall meets roof. A quiet patch of French countryside holds its breath—just a corner, really, but alive with dappled shadows and the weight of midday heat. The house seems to exhale color into the still air.
Trois petites filles au jardin, un matin d’été (circa 1903)

Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

Three girls in white dresses drift through sun-dappled garden paths, their blurred forms dissolving into the shimmering summer light. Loose brushstrokes weave blossoms and foliage into a haze of color, as if the air itself hums with warmth. Childhood hangs suspended in this fleeting, golden hour.
Les Vieux Prunier (circa 1940)

Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

Gnarled plum branches twist against a soft sky, their blossoms trembling with light. The garden hums with quiet energy—each brushstroke alive, flickering between shadow and sun. Time slows here, where the old tree stands rooted in dappled color.
Thistles (1906)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

Thistles rise defiantly, their spiky forms stark against a muted backdrop. The rough texture of leaves and prickly stems almost begs to be touched. A quiet tension lingers—something wild captured in stillness.
The Olive Trees (1889)

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853–1890)

Swirling olive trees twist under a restless sky, their gnarled branches alive with thick, rhythmic brushstrokes. The earth pulses with energy, greens and yellows clashing like wind through leaves. Even the shadows seem to vibrate, as if the whole scene might shudder into motion any second.
Les Fleurs

Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

A garden bursts with color—dabs of pink, yellow, and violet dance across the canvas. Loose brushstrokes blur the flowers into a dreamy haze, as if seen through sunlit air. The petals seem to sway, alive with the warmth of a summer afternoon.
Le Balcon Et L’ombrelle (1904)

Pierre Bonnard (French, 1867–1947)

Sunlight filters through the umbrella’s fabric, casting soft patterns on the balcony. A woman leans against the railing, half in shadow, half in light. The scene hums with quiet warmth, the colors bleeding like watercolor on wet paper. It’s an ordinary moment, yet charged with something unspoken.
La lecture

Georges d'Espagnat (French, 1870–1950)

A woman sits absorbed in a book, bathed in warm light. The room around her hums with quiet energy—loose brushstrokes suggest a world just beyond the page. The scene feels intimate yet alive, as if the act of reading might dissolve into motion at any moment.