NARRATOR: 
Hiram Powers made multiple versions of The Greek Slave, one of the most famous American statues. This one dates to 1846.

The Greek war of independence against Turkey provided inspiration for Powers… but for many 19th-century viewers, this enslaved woman also symbolized the struggle of African-American people against slavery in the United States.

The sculpture was widely exhibited in the U.S. and in Europe, and small replicas were sold. One such statuette belonged to the great abolitionist, Frederick Douglass. 

KA’MAL McLARIN: 
My name is Ka’mal McClarin.  I’m a program manager for the National Park Service for the Underground Railroad Network to Freedom program. I’m the former curator of the Frederick Douglass National Historic Site, also known as Cedar Hill.  

Visiting Douglass at Cedar Hill, you would have seen bounties of artworks representing the quote/unquote “abolitionist call,” and Douglass often used those artworks to really keep the memory of the abolitionist movement alive along with imparting lessons on the quote/unquote “past movement.” As he transitioned from an enslaved person to Abolitionist, that iconic symbol had a direct connection to his heart in many ways. 

Particularly in the 1840s, it pretty much was seen at many exhibitions abroad as well as domestically, and it really creates this national/international discussion about how we should actually perceive that Greek Slave statue.  

NARRATOR: 
The role of American art in challenging traditions of enslavement can be traced back to The Greek Slave and the avalanche of debate it stirred up - some of which centered around the great question of the abolition of slavery in the United States. The woman’s full nudity may have startled some visitors. But her demure expression and pose, and the understanding that she was stripped by her captors, instead suggested that what was immoral was the injustice of enslavement rather than her exposed flesh.  

KA’MAL McLARIN: 
Hiram Powers pretty much starts the conversation. And calls our moral fortitude into question during the 1840s all the way up to the 1850s and 1860s. And I see it in today’s time - the legacy of slavery and that discussion around all these works of art really continue in many ways.

NARRATOR: 
This bust puts us in in the presence of Lorenzo de’ Medici, ruler of the Italian city-state of Florence. He was among the most powerful men in Europe in the late 1400s.

SHELLEY STURMAN: 
Hi, I'm Shelley Sturman, Senior Conservator and Head of Object Conservation at the National Gallery of Art.

When you see paintings of Lorenzo, there's very specific characteristics - his brooding brows and his underbite and his very strong nose. Those are all captured in this bust. He is just staring down at you.  And it's not a grimace, but it's certainly not a smile - it's his air of authority. You sense his power.  You sense his feeling that he knows what's going on. He's looking out for himself.  

NARRATOR: 
The bust, which is painted terracotta, or clay, used to be much darker in coloring. The conservation team explored beneath the modern varnish.

SHELLEY STURMAN: 
We began to see that there were dirt layers directly on top of brightly colored layers, original layers.  And we saw stubble on the cheeks and the chin.  The eyes, we could see little flecks of paint.  The dark tunic turned out to be a deep mulberry color. And the headdress was a deep red, a brilliant red. 

NARRATOR: 
These details help make Lorenzo’s portrait intensely lifelike. This bust may even be the very portrait that moved his son to tears when he saw it after his father’s death.  

SHELLEY STURMAN: 
You can see into the eyes and you can feel his presence. He looks much more like a living being than one made out of clay you get the feeling of what people looked like then, how they dressed, how they act. And you feel like you want to sit there and look a little more and try and figure out what life was like, what he did with his days.

I think that sculpture is a very important way of looking at the past, of seeing yourself in historical figures.  

NARRATOR:
When Edgar Degas first exhibited this sculpture in Paris in 1881, most critics and viewers were scandalized. They deplored the revolutionary display, in an art gallery, of a figure made of wax, textiles and even human hair. And they found his portrayal of a 14-year-old ballet dancer from the Paris Opera House to be uncomfortably realistic - exposing the grim realities of ballet, usually hidden behind the beauty of the dance costumes and music.  At the time, many young dancers with the Paris Opera came from working class families who were dependent on job opportunities in cultural centers where the well-off spent their time.

TARA HUTTON:
My name is Tara Hutton. As a professional ballerina, I am deeply familiar with her obvious fatigue.  Degas’s model, Marie van Goethem, looks simultaneously proud, obedient, and exhausted - such is the nature of ballet.  

I see pride. I also see melancholy.  I see a worn-down young woman in this position.  She has not only had the normal rigors of training as a ballet dancer, but she also had the financial responsibility to bring money home to her poor family, which was common in this era of ballet.

NARRATOR:
This young model posed for Degas as he made drawings, small studies, and finally this sculpture.

TARA HUTTON:
We are trained, as dancers, to create movement - we are not trained to hold poses for hours on end. The dancer is paused in a relaxed fourth position. Her hips and stomach are thrust forward. This is the look of dancer’s fatigue that you would see at the end of a long rehearsal.  

I do think Degas saw artists as individuals. I very much appreciate how his sculpture captures this vulnerable young dancer, who is facing the harsh realities of the vigor of the art and the toughness that was often unseen to the public eye. I think it's a very honest and real display of what a young woman at that time faced.   

ALISON LUCHS: 
I’m Alison Luchs, Curator of Early European Sculpture at the National Gallery of Art. 

When you look at this cup, you notice a wonderful sense of movement that pervades both the stone, the swirling, spiraling veining that winds its way over the surface and is broken up by the fluting and the spiral coils of wire that cover the surfaces of the goldsmith work.

NARRATOR: 
This chalice was made around a thousand years ago in France, by expert craftsmen working for the Abbot of the royal Catholic church of Saint-Denis, just outside Paris. They started with an ancient carved stone cup.

ALISON LUCHS: 
We believe it was made in ancient Egypt, in the first or second century B.C., so just a little before the time of Cleopatra. And it represents the belief that beautiful, veined stones were infused with a kind of divine power and lifeforce. 

NARRATOR: 
The craftsmen set it in gilded silver, studded with jewels and decorated with golden filigree wire in coiling patterns.

The chalice, placed on the church altar, would have contained wine made sacred by the priest. Pointed arches and stained-glass windows allowed richly colored light to flood the Gothic-style church – a feature also reflected in the chalice.

ALISON LUCHS: 
What the chalice has in common with this is not so much the shapes as the belief in the power of light to represent holiness and to bring people closer to God.   

The Annunciation, by Jan Van Eyck. Painted around 1434 to 1436. Oil on canvas transferred from panel. The painted surface is about 3 feet high by just over a foot wide. 

This description is about 4 minutes long. 

Two colorfully robed white people, from the Biblical story of the Annunciation, are side by side in a dimly lit church: the winged angel Gabriel on the left and Mary on the right. 

Their heads are about halfway up the canvas: above them are the soaring architectural features of the church – stone columns, arches, and windows; below their feet is a tiled floor. The painting is meticulously detailed, including contrasting textures of fabric, flesh, glass, and stone. 

Let’s focus on the individuals first then move on to the background. 

Gabriel stands at the left, with his body angled to our right and facing in that direction. His wings, in horizontal bands of rainbow colors, curve back from his shoulders. He has a pink-cheeked, smiling face, and downcast eyes and pale skin; shoulder length strawberry blond hair falls in ringlets to each side. On his head is a gold crown, studded with ruby red and sapphire blue gemstones and pearls. He wears a long brocade cape with a raised pattern of crimson red flowers against a metallic silver background; it hangs in folds to the floor. The front opening of the cape is edged with more glowing gemstones. The angel’s left knee is raised slightly: this allows a glimpse of another floor-length robe under the cape, in gold brocade patterned with lichen green flowers. The angel raises his right hand – the one closer to us – in front of his breast, with the forefinger pointing upwards. In his left hand he holds a metal staff. 

On our right, Mary faces us. She has an oval face with pale white skin; her head is tilted slightly to our left, towards the angel, but her eyes are directed upwards and towards our right. She has long, dark red hair and wears a jeweled circlet around her head. She appears to be kneeling behind a low table with an open book on it: but her whole form is enveloped by voluminous royal blue garments, including an underdress fastened under the bust by a red belt, and a flowing cape in the same blue. The fabric of the cape drapes over the left side of the table, under the book, and bunches in heavy folds on the floor. The cuffs and V neck of the dress are trimmed with white fur flecked with black. Mary’s hands are raised in front of her at breast height, the palms turned slightly outwards.  

A white dove flies down over Mary, with a ray of golden light extending from it and pointing towards her head. 

Below the pair, a patterned floor extends to the bottom edge of the painting. The square floor tiles are a creamy beige color decorated with Biblical scenes in black. At the bottom right foreground is a wooden stool with a red cushion. Behind it is an upright stem of white lilies. 

Behind Mary and the angel, across the top half of the painting, a series of polished marble pillars are connected by pointed archways; between them, windows let in natural light. Above these archways, and deep in shadow, is another series of columns set into the stone; and at the top are more windows with rounded arches; one stained glass window shows a saint in a red robe with a halo.  

Death and the Miser by Hieronymus Bosch, painted around 1485 to 1490. Oil on panel. The painted surface is about 3 feet high by 1 foot wide.

This description is about 5 minutes long.

In a bedroom, a white man – the miser – sits up in bed looking towards our left, where a skeletal figure of Death appears at the door. An angel kneels on the bed behind the man. In the foreground, another man – presumably the miser in earlier days – stows money away in a wooden chest at the foot of the bed. Little demons – with mainly human forms but grotesque, animal-like faces – peep out from hiding spots over and under the furniture.

We’ll focus first on the miser in the bed and his surroundings. Then we’ll move on to the figure of Death. And, finally, we’ll look at the man and objects in the foreground.

The bed and projecting canopy take up the right two-thirds of the composition; and the miser, sitting up in the bed, is positioned just above the midpoint of this narrow painting. The man’s face is turned in profile to our left, his skin ashen white. He has a sharp nose and his head is covered by a black skullcap. A dusty rose-colored bedspread is pulled up to his waist. From the waist up, it’s hard to tell if his thin body is naked or if he wears a close-fitting light-colored nightgown.

He sits back against a grayish pillow, which spans the width of the bed. The bedhead is framed by a terracotta pink canopy with matching curtains, which hang down to each side.

Kneeling immediately behind the miser, to our right, is a winged angel in a white robe. Like the miser, he faces our left in profile, and his back is partially concealed by the curtain to the right. His left hand, nearest us, is placed on the miser’s shoulder. With his right arm he gestures up towards a small window. The window is set at the top left, in the vaulted ceiling of the bedroom. A statuette of Jesus on the cross hangs in the window, with a ray of light coming from it.

To the left of the bed, a demon peers from under the bedcurtain to reach up and offer the miser a bag of money. The demon has a gray, frog-like face. Above the miser’s head, a furry demon holding a lantern gazes over the edge of the bed canopy.

Now let’s turn to the figure of Death. Along the left edge of the composition, and level with the miser and kneeling angel, the skeleton appears around a half-open door. His skull turns towards the miser, mouth agape. A bone-white cloth drapes over his head and falls over his emaciated body, which is partly hidden by the door. He reaches round with his right arm to point an arrow at the miser.

Finally, let’s focus on the foreground. At the foot of the bed is a wooden chest with short legs and the lid propped open with a dagger. A man to our right leans over it, wearing an ankle length, moss green robe with a matching turban wound around his head. His nose is long and sharp, his cheeks gaunt, and his eye socket dark and hollow.
With his left hand, nearest us, he leans on a stick. With his right hand, he drops coins into a sack held open by a rat-faced demon inside the chest.

Two more demons lurk under the chest. One, to the left, holds up a piece of paper with a red seal. This demon has wings, a gaping toothy mouth, and claw-like hands and feet. The other creature, to the right, is mainly hidden by the trunk: only the reptilian hind quarters and long tail of the other demon stick out under the chest.

The space of the bedroom is separated from us by a pointed, white stone arch supported on two columns, which run parallel to the sides of the narrow painting. The columns rest on a low stone ledge in the foreground, which is draped with a petal-pink cloth and a golden-brown garment. The sixth and final demon, wearing a black, hooded cowl leans against the ledge with its head propped in one hand. A sword, helmet, gauntlet, shield, and lance are piled against our side of the ledge near the lower right corner of the painting.  

Still Life with Peacock Pie by Pieter Claesz, painted in 1627. Oil on panel. The painting is about 2 and a half feet high by over 4 feet wide.

This description is about 4 minutes long.

An assortment of dishes with sweets, fruit, and game, as well as utensils and glasses, are spread out along a table covered by a white cloth. Most striking is a pie topped by a peacock’s head, wings, and tail at the back right corner of the table.

The front left corner of the table fits into the bottom corner of the painting, making it feel close to us. The table extends off the right edge of the composition. Most of the table is covered by a white tablecloth, with creases where it has been previously folded. It stops short of the right edge, where another cloth beneath it is patterned with a brick-red trellis against a salmon pink background.

The table is set against a dark brown background.

Now let’s work our way across the table from left to right.

At the back left corner is a glass containing pale, straw-colored wine. The glass has a wide, flaring bowl and a thick stem with raised glass knobs. The wine in the glass casts a golden light onto the white tablecloth to the right. Standing to the right of the glass is a spouted pewter pitcher. It reflects the wineglass, as well as light from windows out of our view.  

In front of the glass and pitcher are three pewter plates. The dish at left holds a crumpled white napkin and a tubular carrying case for a knife. Another thick-stemmed glass – empty this time – lies on its side, its rim resting on the plate. Two flat, round bread rolls, one of them broken and half eaten, sit on the tabletop in front of this plate.

A larger dish closer to the pitcher holds a small roasted bird, with browned skin. An ivory-handled knife rests with the blade on the rim of this plate. In front, on the smaller dish, are two lemons. One is whole, the other has been cut so the peel curls off the edge of the plate.

To the right of the roast bird is the peacock pie on a pewter platter. The tall, round pie has a golden-brown crust. A peacock head and feathers have been inserted to resemble the living bird. At left, the sea-green head and neck are upright, with a pink rose in the beak. The wings have been spread out, with long golden plumes above and smaller, fluffier dove gray feathers at the base. The golden tail feathers, with their deep blue eyes, extend into the top right of the composition.

A few more dishes and foodstuffs are clustered around the pie; these include a blue and white porcelain dish of green olives to the left and slightly behind the pie. In front of the pie a little square gold vessel is piled with salt flakes.

Two more dishes are placed in front of the pie, near the front edge of the table. At left is a pewter dish of assorted candies. Some are white sugar-coated tubes or bonbons. Some look like pastries or cookies. Others appear to be red candied fruits.

Finally, at the far right, a white porcelain bowl is painted with a dark green pattern. The bowl contains shiny, pale gold and pink apples and smaller peaches, still with their leaves. Two peaches, a few nuts, and a round bread roll lie on the tabletop nearby.  

Self-Portrait by Judith Leyster, painted around 1630. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is about 2 and a half feet high by just over 2 feet wide.

This description is about 2 and a half minutes long.

The artist is shown from about the waist up, sitting in front of a painting on an easel. The pale-skinned white woman occupies the left half of the composition, and the picture she paints, on the right, shows a smiling man playing a violin.

The background is a shadowy grayish color.

Let’s begin by describing the artist, and then move on to the canvas she’s painting.

Her chair faces the canvas to the right, but she twists her upper body to look at us directly. Her right arm, holding a long, thin paintbrush, rests on the back of her chair.

She has pink cheeks and brown eyes under dark brows. Her pink lips are parted with the corners lifted in a slight smile. Her dark brown hair is pulled back from her brow and mostly hidden by a starched white cap. The stiff, white ruff around her neck has a lacy edge. It stands out from her neck as flat as a dinner plate and reaches to her shoulders.

Under the ruff, she wears a black bodice over a long-sleeved plum-colored dress; transparent, lace-edged cuffs extend back along her forearm.

On her lap is an oval shaped palette: the thumb of her left hand hooks through the hole in the palette, creating a fist with her fingers. In the same hand, she clutches about twenty paintbrushes and a white cloth.

Let’s turn now to the canvas on the right. The foot of the canvas is hidden behind the artist’s palette and the top extends up to the level of her forehead. The right edge of the canvas is cut off by the right side of the composition. Above the canvas, the top of the easel angles into the top right corner of the composition. The canvas she paints shows a standing, light-skinned man, laughing as he plays a violin. He wears a powder blue suit and floppy cap. The background behind him is ochre brown.  

Daniel in the Lions’ Den by Peter Paul Rubens. Painted around 1614 to 16. Oil on canvas. Painted surface over 7 feet high by nearly 11 feet wide.

This description is about 3 minutes long.

This painting illustrates the Biblical story of Daniel. He is shown as a mostly nude, muscular, white-skinned man, sitting in an underground cave surrounded by nine lions. Daniel sits on a rock to the right of center. A glimpse of blue sky is visible through a narrow, circular opening just over his head. With hands clasped, he looks up to the opening. Two of the lions are females; the others are males with thick, furry manes. Their tawny golden color dominates the palette of the painting.

Daniel’s body faces us, and he sits with his left knee crossed over his right. He has shoulder length, chestnut brown hair and a heavily muscled body. A white cloth is draped around his hips and a scarlet cloth is spread out over the rocks to our right. Light falls on him from the opening in the cave above. A few plants grow from the brown rocks under the opening.

The lions sit, stand, and lie on two levels, with five to our left, on the same level as Daniel. The other four are in front, spanning the width of the composition along the floor of the cave.

Let’s start with the lions at the back. Beside Daniel on the rock, to our left, are two male lions, one behind the other. The one at the back yawns with his mouth wide open to reveal long teeth and a curling tongue. The one in front stands with its head slightly lowered, looking out towards us with amber eyes. To the left of that pair, another male and a female recline. The female lies with front paws crossed, looking off to our left. The male sleeps in the shadowy recesses of the rocky cave. At the far left a male faces our right in profile, teeth bared in a mild snarl; his body from the shoulders back is cut off by the left edge of the canvas.

On the floor of the cave, two males recline to our left. The one at the far left looks directly at us with his head turned over one shoulder. The other, near the center of the canvas, sleeps with his chin on the ground at Daniel’s feet. To the right, a male and female prowl around each other with teeth bared. The male stalks with his head lowered in a near crouch. Along the right edge of the composition, the female lashes her tail and raises one front paw.  

A human skull and several bones are scattered across the sandy ground at the bottom of the canvas.  

Keelmen Heaving in Coals by Moonlight, by Joseph Mallord William Turner, painted in 1835. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is about 3 feet high by 4 feet wide.

This description is nearly 2 minutes long.

In a seascape lit by a full moon, ships line a flax-colored, placid waterway.  To the right, tiny people work in and among the boats, amid flares of reddish firelight; they are surrounded by a smoke-shrouded haze.

The scene is thickly painted with visible brushstrokes, especially in the luminous sky.

The sea spans the bottom third of the canvas.

The upper part of the painting is devoted to the sky. Dominating the sky is the full moon, just to the left of center.

There, a flood of white moonlight breaks through the thickly painted clouds, which extend out from the bright disk of the moon like an hourglass. The sky around the bright vortex deepens from slate blue and violet at the sides to deep, indigo blue along the top edge.

 A band of moonlight on the sea makes a pathway of light reaching towards the viewer.

Two square rigged ships float with their sails unfurled near the left edge of the painting. Beyond them, a distant cluster of factory chimneys and ships are suggested with a few touches and thin lines in flint gray paint.

Along the right edge of the canvas, a row of dark, flat-bottomed boats is silhouetted against flares of orange and white flames from torches. Tiny people can be made out, transferring coal to more sailing ships under dark gray, smokey clouds.

More ships in the distance shimmer along the horizon, nearly blending into the moonlit sky.  

Niagara by Frederic Edwin Church. Painted in 1857. Oil on canvas. 3 and a quarter feet high by 7 and a half feet wide.

This description is just over a minute long.

We hover over rushing water near the edge of Niagara Falls in this panoramic view. The so-called Horseshoe Falls curve away from us, so the falls open to our left.  Across from us, the water cascades down, disappearing into a froth of white. A rainbow arcs down from the top left corner of the canvas into the heart of the cascade.

The horizon comes two-thirds of the way up the composition so the painting is dominated by the rushing, foaming, sea glass-green water. Streaks of plum-purple clouds sweep in from the upper corners against a violet-colored sky.

Closest to us, swirling moss-green water seethes over a rocky plateau, before tumbling over the edge. A dry branch in the left foreground is about to be carried over. Every ripple, eddy, and fleck of white foam is captured.

A band of gold-colored trees line the distant horizon. A few buildings are tucked in among the trees to our right, and a lighthouse stands on the shoreline to our left.  

Watson and the Shark by John Singleton Copley, painted in 1778. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is about 6 feet high by 7 and a half feet wide.

This description is about 3 minutes long.

Amid choppy waves, a naked young man thrashes on his back in the water. From the right, an oversized shark approaches with his teeth-lined jaws open wide. Behind this pair, a boat full of men row, reach out towards the man in the water, or prepare to attack the shark. Moored ships and distant buildings line a harbor in the background.

Let’s focus first on the action in the foreground.

The pale body of the young white man, Watson, is borne up by the water near the lower left corner of the painting. With his feet to our left, he throws his head backwards to our right, so we see him in profile. His eyes roll up and back under raised brows. His long hair disappears into the greenish, turbulent water. His right arm – farther from us – reaches up. His near, left leg lifts towards the surface of the water, while his right leg is submerged from the knee down, lost in a pool of dark red.

Moving to the right, the shark’s enormous mouth is just inches away from Watson’s head. The shark has a squarish jaw and curiously projecting snout.  Its body curves back under the water, and a triangular fin appears farther back past the boat, at the right.

The wooden rowboat nearly spans the center of the composition. It’s crowded with 8 white men and 1 Black man. Four of the men row or steady the boat with the oars. Two more lean out of the boat, reaching for Watson; a third man steadies one of the pair. The Black man stands at the top center of the composition, holding the other end of a rope that wraps loosely around Watson’s arm. The ninth man props one foot on the edge of the boat to our right as he prepares to thrust a harpoon down towards the shark. Some of the men look on with their mouths open or brows furrowed. Most wear loose white or gray shirts and a few have scarves tied around their necks.

The horizon comes about two-thirds of the way up the composition and is lined to either side with buildings and boats. A gap in the harbor beyond the harpoonist leads to the open ocean. A screen of parchment-white clouds sweeps up from the horizon against an ice-blue sky. Darker gray clouds form near the upper left corner.  

Portrait of My Grandmother by Archibald John Motley Junior, painted in 1922. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is just over 3 feet high by about 2 feet wide.

This description is about 2 minutes long.

An older Black woman wearing a white blouse and apron sits facing us with her hands in her lap. She is shown from the lap up, against a dove gray background. Tones of gray and white predominate. They form a contrast with her warm brown skin and touches of black on her hair and skirt.

The woman’s black hair is graying along her hairline. It’s parted down the center, and pulled back so it closely frames her head in rippling waves. Her face is narrow, with a pointed chin. Deep set brown eyes under thin, raised black brows meet ours directly. Her forehead is lined with horizontal wrinkles. Darker shades of brown create shadows along her gaunt cheeks, emphasizing the fleshy pouches to either side of her straight nose. Deep lines connect her nose and narrow, slightly pursed lips. The skin on her chin is puckered with deep creases that radiate out from the corners of the mouth. The tendons on her slender neck stand out.

She wears a white blouse with buttons down the front. At her throat, just below the neckline, is a black, heart-shaped brooch with a red dot at the center. The crisp, three-quarter length sleeves stop short of her thin wrists. A white apron is tucked around her waist over a black skirt. Her hands, with raised veins and long, slender fingers, rest against the soft white cloth of the apron. She wears a gold ring on the fourth finger of her left hand.

Her shadow falls behind her and to the right against the pale gray background.  

The Shaw 54th Regiment Memorial, by Augustus Saint-Gaudens, made in 1900 of patinated plaster. The measurements, including the support, are about 14 feet high by 17 feet wide by 3 and a half feet deep.

This description is just less than 3 minutes long.

This sculpture shows a group of marching Black soldiers. A white officer on horseback rides in the center. It’s sculpted in relief, so the men stand out in three-dimensional form against a flat background. The entire surface is painted a metallic gold color. The overall shape of the sculpture is rectangular, but the upper edge forms a shallow arch. The sculpture is mounted in a dove-gray support with a column to each side and molding above and below.

The central mounted officer rides facing our right in profile. Rows of Black soldiers march in the same direction, towards our right. Above their heads a woman – an angel or goddess – hovers in flowing robes.

Let’s start at the front and move our way back, and then up.

The white officer sits rigidly upright, looking straight ahead over his horse’s ears. He has a pointed beard and wears a floppy, flat-topped cap with a shallow brim. His frockcoat comes down almost to his knees. He holds the reins of his horse in his left hand, farther from us. In his other hand, he holds an unsheathed sword down by his side.

Beyond him, the soldiers march in at least seven rows, though some are partially hidden by the horse and rider. The troops walk side by side, three or four deep. The regiment is led by a drummer, a clean-shaven young man at the far right of the sculpture. The other men vary in age and appearance: some younger and some older, some with beards or moustaches, others cleanshaven. They also wear flat-topped caps, uniform jackets, and loose, ankle length trousers. Each one carries a pack on his back with his bedding roll strapped to the top. A long rifle rests on each man’s near shoulder, creating a bristling mass of upright shafts. They stride forward, looking straight ahead.

The female spirit above flies in the same direction, from left to right. Her left arm stretches forward with her first two fingers extended; she cradles an olive branch and poppies in her other arm. Her robe covers her head and body, and her eyes are closed.

An inscription appears in low relief near the upper right corner of the sculpture. It reads, “OMNIA RELINQUIT SERVARE REMPUBLICAM.” Which translates as: He relinquished everything to serve the republic.  

Portrait of Ginevra de’ Benci by Leonardo da Vinci. Oil on panel. Painted around 1474-1478. The painted surface is about 1 foot 3 inches square.

This description is about 2 minutes long.

A young white woman is shown from chest up, in front of a landscape with trees and water in the distance. The color palette is dominated by coppery shades of brown, with touches of pale blue.

We’ll start by describing the woman and then move on to the background.

The woman’s shoulders are angled away from us to our right, while her head is turned so she looks towards us: she has heavy-lidded, hazel eyes, under delicate, faint brows. Her skin is chalk-white and porcelain smooth. There are faint shadows under wide, rounded cheekbones. She has a straight nose, and her pale pink lips rest in a line. Copper-colored curls frame her face and fall to her jawline. Behind the curls, her hair is smoothly pulled back under a chocolate brown scarf or headdress at the back of her head.

She wears a russet-brown garment with a low-cut, square neckline edged with gold; her upper chest is covered with a transparent white fabric, like muslin or gauze. The bodice is laced at the front with sky blue laces – which echo the blue in the background.

Immediately behind the woman’s head and shoulders is a dense and prickly bronze-colored bush. To our right of the bush, a landscape stretches into the misty distance. There are a couple of slender trees with rust-colored leaves. Beyond them is a stretch of blue water reflecting trees on the far shore. And, even farther, layers of misty hills become more and more indistinct under a pale, smoky blue sky.

Laocoön, by El Greco, painted around 1610 to 14. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is about 4 and a half feet high by 5 and a half feet wide.

This description is just under 3 minutes long.

Three people are attacked by serpents in front of a hillside town, while three more people look on from our right. The trio being attacked occupy most of the composition.  All the people are close to us, arranged across a dark, rocky ground.  

The scene is loosely painted with lively, textured brushwork. The people’s bodies are sinuous and elongated, as they writhe across the scene. Their skin is sickly pale, painted with long streaks of gray and white.  

Let’s focus first on the three main characters. Then we’ll turn to those standing to the right. And we’ll finish by describing the background.

At the center of the composition, an older man with white hair and beard is sprawled on his back with his legs angled down towards the left. He struggles to fend off the snake whose rope-like form is twined around his body. The snake’s open jaws snap at his face; his right hand grasps its neck.

Immediately to our right of the older man is the lifeless body of a young man. He lies with his head towards us and his raised knees pointing away.

At the far left, a third man stands facing us. He twists with his arms overhead as he grapples with another snake. The reptile’s body curves in an arc to the right, its head snapping at the man’s waist. The man throws his head back and strains both arms to grip the snake’s body.   

Moving now to the far right of the painting, three people stand one in front of the other; two of them are turned to our left to watch the action. One of them, in the middle of the group, looks away, to our right. These characters are even more loosely painted than those with the snakes. The person in front has his back towards us. The other two people stand beyond him, their bodies overlapping.

A hilly townscape extends into the deep distance. Houses are painted loosely in rust red and gray against the grass green hillside. Just to the left of center, a light brown horse approaches the gate of the town.

Above, a deep turquoise sky is piled with gray and white clouds.  

St Mark’s Square, Venice by Canaletto, painted 1742 to 1744. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is just under 4 feet high by about 5 feet wide.

This description is 3 minutes long.

We look slightly down onto and across St Mark’s Square in Venice, towards St Mark’s Basilica, or cathedral, to the left, and the adjoining Ducal Palace, to the right.

In the plaza in front of the buildings, people stroll, stand and talk, or buy and sell goods from stalls.

The cathedral and palace buildings nearly span the width of the canvas: they stop just short of the right side as they angle away from us to our right. The left edge of the cathedral lines up with the left edge of the canvas. To the right, the whole rose pink façade of the palace is shown, with a distant glimpse of water and ships beyond.

Above, the sky is duck-egg blue, with a few fluffy white clouds.

Let’s move across the two buildings from left to right.

The façade of St Mark’s Basilica is divided into two registers. The lower register has deeply recessed, arched portals. There is a wide entrance in the center, with 3 narrower arches to each side. These arches are supported on clusters of slender columns.

In the upper register, a shallow balcony runs across an elaborately decorated façade. A central arch is the width of the wide portal below. A sculpture of four golden, prancing horses sits in front of this arch. A pair of arches, wider than those on the lower level, flank the central arch on the second story. These arch-shaped features to each side are decorated with painted scenes; and each arch is crowned with a band of ornamental stonework.  

Silvery domes topped by pointed lanterns rise beyond the upper gallery.

Moving along to the right, the cathedral adjoins the pink façade of the Ducal Palace. This building is a long, rectangular block, supported by two levels of archways, one over the other. People walk among the columns supporting the lower archway, on ground level. Above it, people peer out from behind a stone handrail in the upper archway, which runs the full length of the building. The façade above is pierced by seven large windows, the central one surrounded by ornamental stonework.

Moving now to the foreground: the square is an expansive paved space. Stalls set out under umbrellas are piled with colorful textiles. People, mostly men, gather around the stalls and stroll in between. The men wear cloaks, tricorne hats over powdered wigs, and wide-skirted coats. The few women wear full-skirted dresses and shawls, or are dressed in nuns’ habits.   

The Alba Madonna, painted by Raphael around 1510. Oil on panel transferred to canvas. This is a circular painting, just over 3 feet in diameter.

This description is about 3 minutes long.

A woman – Mary, from the Bible – and two infants sit together on a grassy field in this circular composition. The woman and children are white skinned, and faint gold halos float above their heads. Mary is dressed in royal blue drapery over a rose-pink dress. The naked baby Jesus sits on her lap. Baby and mother look down towards our left at the slightly older toddler, John, who leans on Mary’s knee and looks back up at them. John holds the bottom of a tall cross and Jesus grips it near the middle.  

The grassy field where they sit is dotted with plants and flowers. Behind them, a body of water leads back to hazy hills along the horizon. A building sits on a peninsula or island in the water to our left and a few buildings cluster at the base of a sheer hill to our right. Above is an azure sky with a few wispy white clouds.

Let’s explore the people in more detail, starting with Mary. She sits with her left foot forward and her right foot tucked under her. With her left elbow she leans on the tree stump or rock just behind her back. In that hand she holds a book, with her forefinger between the pages to keep the place. Her right arm, to our left, is stretched out, behind baby Jesus and John.

She has smooth skin with wide cheekbones, tinged with pink, and delicate features. Her brown eyes look towards or just past John. Her chestnut hair is swept back from her face and tucked under an olive-green turban. Her blue robe drapes over her shoulders and around her arms, and covers her legs to the ankle. Under it, we see her rose-pink dress on her chest and arms, and a bit peeks out under the lower hem of her blue robe. She wears a powder blue sandal on the foot that stretches out from under her robe.

The chubby Jesus half stands, half-perches on his mother’s right knee, with his left leg tucked up and his right foot on the ground. He has pale pink and white skin, soft blond curls, and brown eyes. He braces himself with one hand planted on Mary’s lap, and turns towards John almost in profile.

To the left, the slightly larger John kneels and looks up at them, also almost in profile. He has auburn curls and wears animal furs wrapped round his plump, otherwise naked body. Sprigs of flowers and plants are gathered in the folds of the fur at the front.  

Two Women at a Window by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo, painted around 1655 to 1660. Oil on canvas. The painting is just over 4 feet high by nearly 3 and a half feet wide.

This description is just over 2 minutes long.

Light falls across the upper bodies of two women looking out of a darkened window. The woman to our left stands slightly back, half hidden by a wooden shutter. The younger woman at our right leans onto the windowsill and looks out at us, smiling.

The window frame nearly fills the canvas, giving the impression that the canvas itself is a window, out of which the women meet our gaze.

Let’s look in more detail at the two women.

The woman on the left peers around the side of a wooden shutter, and is partly in shadow. She has white skin and dark brown hair, covered at the back by a white shawl. She holds the end of the shawl in her right hand over her mouth to hide a smile. We see one dimpled corner of her mouth, and there is a faint suggestion of smile lines at the corners of her eyes. With her left hand she holds the edge of the shutter.

To the right, the other woman is in full light. She has smooth, white skin and a round face with big brown eyes. Her silky brown hair is parted at her left and drawn back over her ears. She smiles and rests her chin in her right hand. That elbow is propped on the window ledge and her left forearm lies alongside. She wears a loose white blouse, pulled up to the elbows. The neckline has an olive-green border and is cut low to reveal her shoulders. At the V-neck is a carnation-red ribbon, matched by the hint of another ribbon in her hair above her right ear.   

Behind the pair, the interior of the room is in darkness.  

Woman with a Sunflower by Mary Cassatt, painted around 1905. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is about 3 feet high by 2 and a half feet wide.

This description is about 3 minutes long.

A white woman, dressed in shades of yellow with a sunflower pinned onto her robe over one breast, sits with a small naked child on her lap. The woman and child both have pale, pink and white skin. They are reflected in a rectangular mirror on the wall next to them, to our left. Together they also hold up a small round hand mirror, which reflects the face of the child.

We look slightly down onto the pair. The bottom edge of the canvas crops the woman’s legs mid-shin, just below the level of the child’s feet.

The painting is worked in loose, flowing brushstrokes; the reflection in the wall mirror is particularly free and the details are indistinct.

Let’s focus now on the woman and child.

The woman sits in a wooden armchair. The frame of the chair is painted mint green, with rose-pink upholstery at the back and seat. It’s angled so that the woman’s body and face are turned towards our left, with her knees near the lower left corner of the painting. Her head is at the top right of the canvas. Her ginger red hair is loosely swept up and pinned on top of her head.

She has pale lashes, dark eyes under light brows, and her full lips are closed. She looks towards the round hand mirror she holds in her right hand. Her left hand – nearest to us – rests on the shoulder of the child on her lap. The woman wears a low-cut, dress-like garment in a pale primrose yellow. The sunflower is pinned to her bodice over her left breast. Her garment splits over the shoulders to reveal long, trailing sleeves in a darker yellow that matches the sunflower.

Facing our left nearly in profile, the naked child turns away from us to look towards the hand mirror. The child has shoulder length, silky, blond hair and the round belly of a toddler. Both hands are raised to the handle of the gold-framed mirror that the woman holds up. The mirror reflects most of the child’s face from the front.

The top left quarter of the painting is taken up by the rectangular wall mirror, with a mint green frame to match the chair. It is especially loosely painted, so only generally reflects the woman and child.

The background of the painting is olive brown.  

The Emperor Napoleon in his Study at the Tuileries, by Jacques-Louis David, painted in 1812. Oil on canvas. The painting is just over 6 and a half feet high by 4 feet wide.

This description is about 2 and a half minutes long.

This full-length portrait shows a white man – Napoleon – standing in a study, looking directly at us from the center of the canvas. Around him are a desk, chair, papers, books, and a grandfather clock.

Let’s focus first on Napoleon himself, and then move on to the background.

Napoleon has a broad face, with white skin, flat pinkish cheeks, and a clean-shaven, rounded chin. His eyes are gray, with slight pouches underneath. His straight mouse-brown hair is slightly tousled; the front is brushed forward over the forehead.

His uniform jacket is navy blue with white panels at the front, gold epaulettes, and gold buttons. The cuffs are coral red, with more gold buttons; the button closest to the hand on each cuff is undone. The jacket is cut away over the belly to reveal the white waistcoat underneath. A few of the waistcoat buttons have been undone so he can slip his right hand inside. His right hand is tucked into the front of his waistcoat.

His white knee breeches are tight to his rather plump form. Under them he wears white stockings, slightly wrinkled at the ankle, and black shoes with gold buckles. His left leg is slightly forward.

Behind Napoleon, the room is dimly lit. He stands in front of a desk holding a gold candelabra with candles that have almost burnt out. Rolls of paper lie on the desk, including one with the letters C.O.D. visible. Another roll of paper lies on the floor under the desk, along with a big leather-bound book with the name Plutarque.  

To the right is a grandfather clock, its face showing almost 4:15.

At bottom right of the canvas is a gilded gold chair with red velvet upholstery decorated with gold bees. The seat is angled towards Napoleon. A sword rests across the chair, its hilt pointing towards us.  

The floor is covered with a bottle green velvet cloth, rumpled where some movement of the feet of the chair have disturbed it.
 

Odalisque by Auguste Renoir, painted in 1870, oil on canvas. The painted surface is just over 2 feet high by 4 feet wide.

This description is just over 3 minutes long.

A white woman, whose pale skin is tinged with yellow, lies along the width of this canvas. Her head and shoulders are propped up on a pillow to the right. Her knees are slightly bent so her feet can fit into the lower left corner of the painting. All her garments are patterned in gold and jewel-toned colors. In the background are more colorful fabrics, cushions, rugs, and screens. The scene is loosely painted, especially in the background.

Let’s explore some of the details, starting with the woman herself.

She leans her head back against a bulky white pillow as she looks at us from the corners of dark, half-closed eyes. The heavy lids are shaded with brown, and her eyes are lined with black. She has black, arched brows and her rose-red lips are parted to show a glimpse of teeth. We see the soft underside of her slight double chin, which is pulled in as her head leans back. Gold hoops hang from her ears.

Her long black hair is loosely braided and falls over the shoulder closer to us. A little cap is perched on her head, decorated with gold coins or buttons. A scarlet tassel spreads out from it across the white pillow to our left. The pillow is propped against a screen with a patterned leafy border. Behind the woman’s head is a loosely painted circular form, possibly a feather fan, composed of concentric rings of gold, yellow, and sapphire blue.

The woman’s outfit is made up of layers of garments in silky, diaphanous fabrics. Her top is a gauzy white long-sleeved blouse. Over it she wears a sleeveless, open waistcoat, known as a bolero, in gold. Tied around her waist is a flowing turquoise shawl striped with rust red. Her loose pants are patterned with moss green, gold, and brick red, in leafy and floral designs.  The garment falls to just below her knee, where it is edged with bands of gold, and fastened with a button. More gauzy white fabric bundles in her lap. Her shins are bare, with her toes loosely thrust into gold and blue backless slippers with fluffy white pompoms.

Her right hand rests on her right thigh. Her left lies loosely at her side. Her legs are relaxed: the left one, nearest us, is nearly straight. The right knee is slightly bent as it falls open.  

She lies on a cream-white rug. Behind her legs, at left, is a round red velvet cushion, holding a tray with a grass green pottery jug and a dish of oranges. In the background, creating a band across the top of the painting, are a patterned rug and throws, a long red velvet cushion, and powder blue patterned wallpaper.  

Woman Viewed from Behind – or Visit to a Museum – by Edgar Degas, painted around 1879 to 1885. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is 2 feet 8 inches high by nearly 2 and a half feet wide.

This description is just over 2 minutes long.

Shown from behind, a white woman stands just to the right of center; the bottom edge of the canvas cuts her off just below the hips. Her head turns to the left, so we see most of her profile – her pale ear, a pink and white cheek, and the tip of her nose. Her chestnut-brown straight hair is pulled back from her face.

She is dressed in black and gray: a black hat, possibly feathered, is set on the back of her head. Her dress has a charcoal gray waistcoat with a band of white lace along the high collar. The black sleeves have ruffles around the elbows, and the narrow skirt is also black.

The woman is painted in loose, flowing brushstrokes. The background is even more free and bold. A field of parchment brown fills the lower half of the painting, angling from near the lower left corner diagonally up to the right edge. That area is separated from a blur of colors above by a white line. A series of vertical and horizontal stripes and bars in that upper zone are created from daubs and streaks of crocus yellow, flame orange, mint green, black, and fawn brown. To the far right are two vertical stripes of rose pink.

The title suggests that this captures a display in a museum. The white diagonal line cutting across the painting could be seen as an architectural element marking out the edge of the wall. Above it, the colorful lines could be the frames of pictures or the outlines of showcases. And the two pink stripes at far right could be marble columns.    

The Old Musician by Edouard Manet, painted in 1862. Oil on canvas. The painted surface is just over 6 feet high by 8 feet wide.

This description is nearly 4 minutes long.

A group of raggedly dressed people cluster around a man with a violin on a hilltop. The musician sits on a rock just to the right of center, with his violin on his lap. Three children, one carrying a baby, stand to the left. To the right are two men. The scene is painted with loose, fluid brushstrokes.

Let’s begin with the musician, then move from left to right

The man sits with his body facing our left but he turns his head to face us. He has black curly hair streaked with gray and a lighter gray beard, framing his parted lips. He has brown eyes, black eyebrows, and deeply tanned or light brown skin. A long, loose brown coat or cloak drapes over the shoulder closer to us and across his lap. A satchel lies near his scuffed black shoes. He clasps the neck of his violin in his left hand, holding it as one might a guitar. Resting his right hand against the strings, he holds the bow between crossed fingers so it slants away from him to the left.   

Next to him, the three children occupy the left half of the canvas. Closest to the musician, standing just beyond his knee, is a boy with tanned white skin and short cropped, dark brown hair. He wears a dark brown waistcoat over a black shirt with voluminous sleeves. His baggy trousers and dusty shoes are also black. His face turns towards the musician. His right arm rests around the shoulders of his companion, a boy wearing white. This second child has paler white skin and straight dark blond hair, mostly hidden by a broad brimmed straw hat. He wears an overlarge white shirt tucked into baggy tan trousers. He stares out of the canvas, slightly to our left. His hands hang loosely at his sides.

Moving now to the far left, a barefoot white girl stands holding a baby wrapped in a brown shawl. The girl faces the musician. Her curly auburn hair obscures most of her profile. She wears a black top with trailing sleeves and a sea blue skirt, with streaks of dusky pink. She holds the baby, with blond hair and white skin, up against her chest, level with her chin.

Let’s turn now to the two men to the right.

Nearest to the musician, and just behind his back, a white skinned man with a brown beard wears a tall black top hat. His body faces us as he leans back against a rock; his head turns towards the musician. He is enveloped to the knees in a chestnut brown cape, and wears light gray trousers and black shoes.

To the far right, and half cut off by the edge of the canvas, the final person stands turned towards the musician, his chin tucked down. He is an older, white-skinned man with a white beard. He wears a dark brown turban on his head and a long dark coat over an ankle-length white robe. The hand closer to us rests on a cane and he holds his other fist against his chest.

Behind the group is a glimpse of distant mountains with a cloudy sky above.