Post-Impressionism Art Collection | Perfect for Wall Art, Prints - Page 3 of 9

Les Toits, Composition (1936)

Henri Le Sidaner (French, 1862–1939)

Soft light spills over the rooftops, turning the evening into a quiet mosaic of warm hues. Shadows stretch lazily across the tiles, as if the whole scene might dissolve into twilight at any moment.
Le joueur de banjo (1914)

Luc-Albert Moreau (French, 1882–1948)

A lone figure hunches over his banjo, fingers poised above the strings. The muted palette suggests dim lamplight, the hush before the first note. His shadow stretches long across the floor—an audience of one, waiting.
Les trois muses

Henri Martin (French, 1860–1943)

Three women stand in a sunlit grove, their draped forms blending with dappled leaves. One holds a lyre, another gazes downward, the third seems to listen—each lost in separate thought yet bound by quiet harmony. The scene hums with unspoken poetry, a silent chorus of inspiration.
Field flowers (1916)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A wild tangle of blossoms bursts from the canvas, their petals thick with paint. Rustic stems twist upward, carrying the untamed energy of an open meadow. The colors hum—golden yellows, deep blues, a flicker of crimson—each brushstroke alive with the raw simplicity of nature’s untended beauty.
Paysage maritime

Ferdinand du Puigaudeau (French, 1864–1930)

Waves lick the hulls of moored boats, their masts tilting against a dusky sky. The shoreline stretches, rough and untamed, where sea meets land in a dance of muted blues and ochres. A quiet tension lingers—the calm before a storm, or perhaps the hush after one.
Fleurs au Bord Belle-île-en-Mer (Flowers near Belle-île-en-Mer) (1909)

Maxime Maufra (French, 1861–1918)

Wildflowers burst along the rugged coastline, their colors sharp against the sea’s restless blues. The land meets water in a dance of untamed beauty, where petals cling to cliffs and salt air hums through the stems. A fleeting balance—soft blooms against stone, delicate life persisting where earth fractures into waves.
Maison de Victor Hugo, rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs (1905)

Paul Madeline (French, 1863–1920)

Sunlight dapples the cobbled street outside Victor Hugo’s old home, where shadows stretch long and warm. The building’s pale facade glows against the muted greens of Paris in summer, a quiet corner humming with history.
Le Chérubin de Mozart (ca 1904)

Jacques-Émile Blanche (French, 1861–1942)

A young child, dressed in delicate white, holds a violin with tentative grace. The soft brushstrokes blur the line between innocence and artistry, as if music itself might slip from their fingers. Something unspoken lingers in their distant gaze—a quiet tension between youth and the weight of talent.
The Offering (c. 1915–1917)

Charles Prendergast (American, 1863–1948)

A group gathers in hushed ceremony, their forms simplified yet alive with movement. Hands extend toward an unseen center, the ritual’s focus left to imagination. Colors hum softly—ochres, blues, a whisper of green—as if the air itself holds its breath. Something sacred passes between them.