Swedish Art

  • Ludvig Looström (1908)

    Ludvig Looström (1908)

    Carl Larsson (Swedish, 1853–1919)

    A young boy gazes intently, his crisp white collar contrasting with the warm tones of the background. His expression holds quiet curiosity, caught between childhood innocence and the first hints of maturity. The brushwork suggests movement, as if he might turn away any moment.

  • Study for Rokoko (1888)

    Study for Rokoko (1888)

    Carl Larsson (Swedish, 1853–1919)

    Delicate pastel hues swirl around figures in powdered wigs, their gestures frozen mid-conversation. The sketch captures Rococo’s playful elegance—whispered secrets and rustling silk suggested with quick, confident strokes. A world of aristocratic leisure emerges from these loose lines, both spontaneous and precise.

  • Hins Anders (1904)

    Hins Anders (1904)

    Anders Zorn (Swedish, unknown)

    A young boy’s gaze meets the viewer, his expression caught between curiosity and quiet reserve. The brushwork is loose yet precise, capturing the softness of youth against a muted background. There’s an unspoken tension in his stillness—as if he might turn away any moment.

  • By Jerusalem. (1921)

    By Jerusalem. (1921)

    Anna Boberg (Swedish, unknown)

    Golden light spills over ancient stone walls, casting long shadows across the city. The air hums with quiet reverence, a timeless pause before the clamor of daily life resumes. Jerusalem stands eternal yet fleeting, caught between earth and sky.

  • Pontus Fürstenberg (1898)

    Pontus Fürstenberg (1898)

    Anders Zorn (Swedish, unknown)

    A man leans forward, his sharp gaze and confident posture framed by a dark coat. The brushstrokes capture his quiet authority, the light catching his face with striking clarity. There’s an unspoken intensity in the way he holds himself—like a conversation paused mid-sentence.

  • A Fairy (Kersti In The Meadow) (1899)

    A Fairy (Kersti In The Meadow) (1899)

    Carl Larsson (Swedish, 1853–1919)

    A girl in a white dress stands barefoot in the meadow, sunlight dappling through the trees. She holds a flower, half-turned as if caught between worlds—part child, part something wilder. The grass brushes her ankles, and for a moment, the air hums with the possibility of wings.