Trees Archives - Zartify

Le Canal Du Loing À Saint-Mammès (1885)

Alfred Sisley (French, 1839–1899)

Sunlight dances on the canal’s ripples, softening the edges of moored boats. Trees lean lazily over the water, their reflections blurring into the current. A quiet stretch of France, alive with shifting colors—no grand drama, just the river’s gentle rhythm and the play of light on an ordinary afternoon.
Gotische Kirche über Baumwipfeln bei Mondenschein (Circa 1840)

Carl Gustav Carus (German, 1789–1869)

Moonlight spills through twisted branches, casting silver over the Gothic church rising from the forest. The trees sway like dark waves, their leaves whispering against stone spires. A hush lingers—half reverence, half mystery—as if the night itself holds its breath before the ancient arches.
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.
Fragment of a house with two trees (1920)

Tadeusz Makowski (Polish, 1882–1932)

A tilted house leans into the wind, its walls splintered between two twisted trees. The landscape buckles under unseen pressure, shapes bending as if seen through warped glass. Something familiar fractures here—home, stability—yet the trees stand, stubborn and gnarled against the sky’s uneasy weight.
Winter Landscape (1940)

Horace Pippin (American, 1888–1946)

Bare branches claw at a pale sky. Snow blankets the ground, thick and undisturbed, swallowing sound. A lone path cuts through the stillness, its edges blurred by cold. The air feels heavy, waiting. Something lingers just beyond the trees—a presence, or perhaps the memory of one.
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.
Birch Forest (1903)

Gustav Klimt (Austrian, 1862–1918)

Slender birch trunks rise like pale ghosts, their black markings stark against the dappled light. The forest floor shimmers with golden leaves, a silent carpet beneath the vertical dance of trees. Each slender form repeats into the distance, creating a rhythm that pulls the eye deeper into the woods.
Grove of Trees (1888–1890)

Pierre-Auguste Renoir (French, 1841–1919)

Dappled sunlight filters through the leaves, casting shifting patterns across the grove. Loose brushstrokes blur the line between earth and sky, trees swaying in an unseen breeze. The air hums with warmth, alive with the quiet rustle of branches.
Under the orange tree

Virginie Demont-Breton (French, 1859–1935)

A woman sits beneath the gnarled branches of an orange tree, sunlight dappling her dress. The fruit hangs heavy, their scent mingling with warm earth. She leans slightly, as if listening to the leaves whisper—a quiet moment suspended between shade and gold.