Flowers Archives

Champs fleuris à l’aube

Ferdinand du Puigaudeau (French, 1864–1930)

Dawn light spills over the field, turning wildflowers into soft smudges of pink and gold. The air hums with dew and quiet. A path winds through the blooms, inviting but half-hidden—as if the morning itself might dissolve if you step too close.
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.
Rose with a basket (1922)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A single rose rests in a woven basket, its petals soft against the rough texture. The play of light and shadow gives depth to the simple arrangement, turning everyday objects into something quietly striking. There’s warmth in the muted tones, as if the scene holds a secret just beneath the surface.
Kitchen interior. The artist’s wife arranging flowers (1884)

Viggo Johansen (Danish, unknown)

Sunlight slants across the table as she tucks stems into a vase, her apron catching the glow. The room hums with quiet concentration—petals, scattered leaves, the weight of domestic rhythm. A moment so ordinary it aches.
Sunflowers (1883)

Gustav Klimt (Austrian, 1862–1918)

Golden petals twist upward, heavy with sunlight. The flowers lean together, their stems tangled in shadow. Yellow blooms glow against the dark, each brushstroke thick with life. There’s something restless in the way they bend—not just growing, but reaching.
Portrait de Femme au turban fleuri

Léon François Comerre (French, 1850–1916)

A woman gazes past the viewer, her turban crowned with delicate blooms. The soft folds of fabric frame her face, catching the light like petals. There’s a quiet defiance in her eyes—unhurried, unbothered. The flowers seem to whisper something she already knows.
Blühender Mohn Mohnwiese (1907)

Gustav Klimt (Austrian, 1862–1918)

A sea of red poppies sways under an unseen breeze, their petals like drops of blood against the green. The field pulses with life, each flower a flickering flame in the tall grass. No horizon, no sky—just this endless, hypnotic dance of color. You can almost hear the stems rustling.
Pelargoniums on the Terrace (1890 – 1899)

Albert Edelfelt (Finnish, 1854–1905)

Sunlight spills across the terrace, warming the terracotta pots. Geraniums burst in red clusters, their leaves brushing against each other in the breeze. The air hums with quiet warmth, the kind that lingers long after summer fades.
Bouquet de fleurs

Odilon Redon (French, 1840–1916)

A tangle of blooms spills across the canvas—vibrant yet unsettling. The flowers seem to pulse with hidden meaning, their petals hovering between dream and decay. Something lingers beneath the surface of this bouquet, whispering in colors too rich for mere decoration.