Post-Impressionism Art Collection | Perfect for Wall Art, Prints - Page 6 of 9

Printemps Rose (1908)

Henri-Edmond Cross (French, 1856–1910)

Pink light spills through budding branches, softening the landscape into a dream. Spring air hums with warmth, blurring the line between earth and sky. Every brushstroke pulses with life, as if the scene might dissolve into pure color at any moment.
Olive Grove, Saint-Rémy (1889)

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853–1890)

Twisted olive trunks claw upward through swirling brushstrokes. The sky churns above the grove—not blue, but a feverish yellow-green. Each tree writhes with its own rhythm, leaves flickering like candle flames in the wind. The earth itself seems to tremble beneath this electric orchard.
Still Life of Oranges and Lemons with Blue Gloves (1889)

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853–1890)

Sunlight glows through citrus skins, their bright curves resting beside crumpled blue gloves. The gloves lie empty, fingers curled as if just pulled off. A quiet tension hums between the vibrant fruit and the abandoned workwear—something paused, unfinished. The air smells of zest and damp cotton.
Poppy field

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853–1890)

Golden poppies sway in the wind, their red petals bleeding into the green field. Thick brushstrokes twist the sky into a living thing. The earth hums with color, restless under the sun.
Landscape of a small town with children in a pram (1924)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A cobbled street winds past pastel houses, sunlight dappling the stones. Two children peer from a pram, their wide eyes taking in the quiet bustle of the town. The scene hums with muted color and the soft geometry of tilted roofs, a moment suspended between childhood wonder and the rhythm of daily life.
Irises in a white flower-vase (1920)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

Purple irises burst from a white vase, their petals curling like flames. The brushstrokes feel alive—loose yet deliberate. Shadows pool beneath the blooms, grounding their wild energy. It’s not just flowers; it’s a quiet rebellion against stillness.
Still life with apples and bananas (1905)

Paula Modersohn-Becker (German, 1876–1907)

Thick brushstrokes carve out apples and bananas on a muted table. The fruit feels heavy, almost tangible—their weight pressing against the canvas. Shadows pool beneath them, deepening the quiet tension between ripeness and decay. No flourish, just raw presence. A simple arrangement that hums with quiet intensity.
First Steps, after Millet (1890)

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853–1890)

A mother guides her child’s wobbly steps across a sunlit field, their shadows stretching long behind them. The rough brushstrokes mirror the earth’s texture—tilled soil, tufts of grass, the weight of labor and tenderness in each stride.
The Sheep-Shearer (After Millet)

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853–1890)

A man bends over a sheep, blade in hand. The animal’s wool bunches under his grip, thick and tangled. Sunlight catches the curve of his back, the tension in his fingers. Around them, the field hums—dry grass, warm fleece, the quiet labor of rural life.