15 Paintings to See at the Victoria and Albert Museum

Xiang Shengmo was born late in the Ming dynasty (1368–1644), which was a period of great achievement in Chinese literature and art. Xiang was a grandson of the famous Ming art expert and collector Xiang Yuanbian. Though Xiang never met his grandfather, he inherited his artistic talents and became an accomplished painter and poet. He was taught by the painting theorist Dong Qichang, who shared the first law of painting, which was to express the spirit of an object through accurate representation. In his series of four paintings of flowers, Xiang focused on a spray of flowers and explored the details that interested him. Each flower and leaf is observed and executed in a tidy fashion. The brushstrokes are well controlled and precise. Bunch of Flowers with Calamus is typical of Xiang’s acute observation of the natural world and is a work of great grace and beauty. (Lam Wei Ching)

Khosrow Kills a Lion with His Bare Hands was executed by, or under the direction of, Rezā ʿAbbāsī, the greatest Persian painter and calligrapher of the Isfahan School, which flourished under ʿAbbās I, shah of Persia. This work once illustrated a copy of the Khamsa (“Five Poems”) by the 12th-century Persian poet Neẓāmī, which included the narrative poem Khosrow o-Shīrīn. The poem tells of the love between the 6th-century king of Persia Khosrow II and Shīrīn, his wife. Mounted with 19th-century borders, this miniature depicts one of the king’s several adventures, in which Khosrow, dressed in his nightclothes and watched by two servants, strikes a lion prowling outside Shīrīn’s tent to protect her. Rezā’s skill can be seen in detailed facial expressions and the intricacy of the architectural design. (Andrew Smith)

This portrait is one of a series that François Boucher produced for his chief patron, the marquise de Pompadour. Born Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson, she gained her title after becoming the mistress of Louis XV in 1745. By the time of this portrait, she was no longer the king’s lover, though the pair remained good friends and she was known as the maîtresse en titre (the king’s official mistress). With true diplomacy, Boucher reflected this unusual situation in the portrait. The marquise is not depicted with regal pomp and majesty. With the prominent display of books, he emphasized her intellectual and cultural gifts. This is hardly surprising, since her loyal patronage did much to ensure the success of his career. She commissioned numerous paintings from Boucher, along with decorations for her home, the Château de Bellevue. She also engaged him to produce many designs for the new porcelain factory at Sèvres. For all his versatility, though, Boucher was not a great portraitist. He only produced about a dozen portraits and, of these, seven were of Madame de Pompadour. She was well aware of his shortcomings in this area, remarking about one of the portraits that it was “very pretty, but not a good likeness.” In spite of this, Boucher remained her favorite artist. (Iain Zaczek)

Dogs had been frequently included in family portraits, but it was only in the 18th century that they began to take center stage in pictures of their own. Animal painting remained a minor, specialized genre until the following century, when artists such as Sir Edwin Landseer brought it to the fore. Landseer attracted clients at the highest level, most notably Queen Victoria, while his sentimental pictures made him a favorite with the public at large. He was something of a child prodigy, exhibiting at the Royal Academy by the age of 16. These prestigious shows brought him a string of lucrative commissions, including this particular picture, which was ordered by the dog’s owner, W.H. de Merle. The animal is not shown in its domestic setting, but outdoors in the Scottish Highlands, where Landseer was a frequent visitor. The artist gained even greater celebrity from his sentimental paintings, which underlined the devotion and loyalty of man’s best friend. The most famous example, perhaps, is his The Old Shepherd’s Chief Mourner, where the dog is shown alone in a cottage, resting his head on his master’s coffin, long after the shepherd’s human friends have gone home. This painting of a Newfoundlander illustrates a breed that originated in Canada. They were working dogs, mainly used for hauling in fishing nets and known for rescuing swimmers in distress. Landseer painted these dogs on many occasions, and in honor of his services to the canine world, a breed of dog was named after him: a black and white variety of the Newfoundland. (Iain Zaczek)

The death of John Constable’s father in 1816 left the struggling artist financially secure and finally able to marry Maria Birknell, whose family had opposed the union for some years. By 1824 she had fallen seriously ill, and Constable moved her and their children out of London and down to Brighton for an extended visit. The fashionable seaside town was a popular health resort, but on his trips to visit his family from his London studio the artist found it stifling and disliked the frivolous atmosphere. He referred to the town as “Piccadilly…by the seaside” and found the bustle of the bourgeoisie at leisure irritating. He made many sketches on his visits, turning his back to the town and capturing in oil the expanse of blue-gray sea punctuated by colored sails and the honest labor of fishermen. One of the artist’s most famous Brighton sketches, this piece shows the dark collier boats delivering coal to the expanding town. Just visible behind the boats is the end of the Chain Pier, built in 1823, and the subject of paintings by both him and his contemporary J.M.W. Turner. Constable was greatly concerned with the depiction of changing light and atmosphere. With a muted palette and short, sensitive brushstrokes he suggests a single moment on a warm summer evening—one of “very white and golden light,” as he refers to it in an inscription on the back of the small sketch. It is this immediacy and shimmering luminous quality of his work that was so influential on the painters of the Barbizon School, and in turn on the development of Impressionism. (Tamsin Pickeral)

During his lifetime the prolific artist John Sell Cotman received little public recognition. He was largely self-taught, though he had spent a little time in the famous London academy of Dr. Munro, whose pupils also included J.M.W. Turner and Thomas Girtin. Cotman spent most of his life working from just outside his birthtown of Norwich, England, an area that attracted artists and artisans. One of the leading members of the Norwich school, he taught drawing, allowing students to copy his works. His influence in this respect was profound on a generation of emerging watercolor artists, most notably his two sons, Miles Edmund and John Joseph Cotman, and the artist John Thirtle. In 1834 he was appointed Drawing Master at King’s College, London. The haunting and evocative watercolor Crambe Beck Bridge, near Kirkham, Yorkshire is possibly one of his best in this medium. (For many years it was believed to depict Chirk Aqueduct, in Wales, and it was known by that name.) The structure reflects a sense of ancient Roman architecture with the soaring height and simple majesty reminiscent of a temple portico. It is a brilliant synthesis, the ancient conceived and portrayed in a bold, modern way. Cotman’s grasp of spatial organization and his use of solid blocks of color and strong forms, as well as his sense of design, would seem to predict the emergence of the modern movement, although his works always retained a vestige of the romantic style of his early career. (Tamsin Pickeral)

Abū al-Ḥasan was the son of Rezā ʿAbbāsī, a Persian artist who was a member of the workshop of Jahāngīr, emperor of India in the early 17th century. Abū al-Ḥasan continued his father’s style and flourished under the emperor. Jahāngīr called him “Nadir al-Zaman,” the “Wonder of the Age,” and commissioned a number of portraits from him. His technique juxtaposed European realism and chiaroscuro with Safavid types of decorations and landscapes. Prince Khurram, the future Shah Jahān, was 25 years old when this miniature portrait was painted; it is signed by the artist. As the portrait testifies, the prince was fascinated by jewelry. His orange costume contrasts greatly with the spinach-green background of the painting. The details of the textiles, the jewelry, and the facial features are extremely realistic. The painting reveals the personality of the subject but also that of the painter, who consciously chose to represent the green background as a flat color so that it would emphasize the accurate representation of the prince. The prince’s halo refers to the divinity of the royal family, who often used the visual arts to legitimize their political authority. Besides its subject matter, the courtly patronage of the painting may be observed by the richness of the pigments and the illuminations. A Persian influence is seen in the incorporation of calligraphies in the painting and in the floral borders. (Tamsin Pickeral)

This painting is from an illustrated manuscript of the Hamzanama commissioned by the Mughal emperor Akbar, who reigned from 1556 to 1605 and was a lover of tales of magic and adventure. It took 15 years to complete the whole series, which may have begun as early as 1562. The Hamzanama tells the epic story of Ḥamzah ibn ʿAbd al-Muṭṭalib, the uncle of the Islamic prophet Muhammad, and his ambition to Islamicize the world. Akbar had his own ambitions: to spread Mughal power throughout the Indian subcontinent. The Witch Anqarat Ties Malik Iraj to a Tree is extraordinary for its comparatively large scale and for its Persian influence juxtaposed with Mughal themes. The main subjects of the story are represented in two separate trees: on the left is the witch Ankarut, and on the right is Ḥamzah’s enemy Iraj. The witch is offering to free Iraj—whom she has captured and lashed to a tree—if he agrees to become her lover. There is an attempt at naturalism—although the trunks of the trees are rendered less realistically than the leaves of the vegetation—and the building in the background reflects contemporary Mughal architecture. The depiction of the rocks points to Persian artistic influences on the work. The unknown artist applied his wide palette of colors densely and left no empty space in a composition that ultimately is well balanced and unified. (Sandrine Josefsada)

Manṣūr has been attributed the title of Ustād, meaning “master,” for his extraordinary, naturalistic depictions of fauna and flora. No other artist could compete with his understanding of natural science and his skills at representing animals and vegetation with such great realism. He worked in the atelier of the Mughal emperor Akbar, who reigned from 1556 to 1605, and then that of his son and successor, Jahāngīr. When Manṣūr was an apprentice under Akbar he was known as a colorist and then a designer. Under the reign of Jahāngīr, the themes of the paintings that were commissioned changed tremendously. Epic themes were substituted by natural history subjects. Manṣūr’s style matured with his animal studies. Zebra echoes contemporary academic animal studies in China. The floral scrolls on the frame and the script written within the main composition are reminiscent of Persian miniature paintings. Manṣūr adopted Chinese and Persian stylistic elements and Mughalized these in order to fit the tastes of the Indian emperors. However, the thin black outline of the zebra as well as the intense expression of the eyes evidences the perfectly controlled brushwork of the artist. He has depicted the animal in profile, to enable an ideal view of his study. The creamy background of the miniature contrasts with the colored skin of the zebra. Mansur’s animal studies were highly esteemed, and many Mughal artists at court attempted to copy him. (Sandrine Josefsada)

It was under the emperor Shah Jahān—famously responsible for building the Taj Mahal—that the refined Mughal style of painting truly came into its own. The emperor, who reigned 1628–58, was a great supporter of the arts. Paintings of this period were characterized by their ornate quality and lavish details, and they formed a bridge between realism and lush idealism. They were brilliantly colored and highly patterned and depicted a utopian paradise that implied this was the reality of Shah Jahan’s empire. Balchand was a popular miniature painter who had a long career. His work was based on realistic interpretations of what he saw, and as such the emperor is clearly recognizable in this portrait. This is an exquisite image typical of the artist’s style, and shows his interest in tiny details, creating a flattering depiction of the elegant Shah Jahān. (Tamsin Pickeral)

Vishnu is one of the three principal deities in the Hindu godhead, along with Shiva the destroyer and Brahma the creator. Worshiped as the protector and preserver of the world and restorer of moral order, Vishnu is known by his various incarnations in animals and prophets, of which Krishna is the most well known. This cosmic manifestation of Vishnu is known as Vishvarupa. Often depicted as a young and handsome man with a crown, Vishnu is studded with figures that tell stories from the holy text Bhagavadgita. This painting is most likely of the Jaipur school in northwest India, made for the enjoyment of a local nobleman or ruler; such paintings are intended to inspire and instruct human practitioners. In it, Vishnu appears in front of a nimbus cloud with four arms holding various items, an indication of his ability to perform several functions at the same time. The conch, also a musical instrument, represents Vishnu’s vital role in the immensity of the primordial waters. The disk is a solar symbol, holding the power to destroy ignorance and darkness with the unifying, intellectual tendency of a human being. The lotus bud, one of the most ancient Hindu symbols of purity and spiritual power, when open represents the realization of human development in this process of illumination. The final item, the mace, represents individual existence. In a luminous but flat style of painting, Vishnu’s body is a royal blue color, suggesting the infinite sky. (Sara White Wilson)

The Qing dynasty was the last imperial dynasty of China, ruling from 1644 until 1911/12. At its height, this empire ruled much of central and eastern Asia under a strong, centralized government. This portrait of Lu Tai Tai, wife of General Lu Chian-Kuei, was painted under the leadership of the 18th-century emperor Qianlong, when China viewed its kingdom as the center of world power. However, as Europeans encroached, so China regulated trade with the threatening foreigners. By 1800, China was more isolated than it had been in the 14th century, and it faced population problems, rebellions, and political turmoil. Lu Tai Tai’s black gown shapes a womanly curve. Her hands and feet are hidden but appear as aggressive claws that are rather part of the chair, suggesting her indirect but potent social control. Her red hat is the most significant symbol of all—Chinese brides wore red wedding gowns and walked on red carpets toward their grooms. Lu Tai Tai is crowned with the superiority of her position as wife of a general. (Sara White Wilson)

This exquisite painting is one of the most famous works of the leading limner, or painter of miniatures, at the court of England’s Queen Elizabeth I. Miniatures were produced as part of the game of courtly love, to be exchanged as tokens of fidelity or coded messages. The young gentleman pictured in Nicholas Hilliard’s miniature, shown pining with hand on heart amid a bower of roses, has been identified by some scholars as the young Robert Devereux, earl of Essex, a favorite of Elizabeth I. His stormy relationship with the queen was to end on the executioner’s block in 1601. This identification remains uncertain, however, while the identity of the artist, on the other hand, is unmistakable. The miniature displays Hilliard’s habitual fine use of line and his aversion to shadows. The proportions of the figure are studiedly distorted, the legs and torso elongated and the head small, as if being seen from below. It would have suited the Elizabethans to give the elements of the painting an allegorical reading. The pose with hand on heart suggests love and devotion, a message reinforced by the tree trunk, a symbol of constancy. The young man’s melancholy air hints at love’s vicissitudes, a message reinforced by the roses—the flowers symbols of love’s delights, the thorns signifying love’s pains. This theme is spelled out in Latin on the painting’s frame: Dat poenas laudate fides—“My praised loyalty brings me suffering.” To a modern eye, this originally private image has become a public object to be enjoyed for its refined and jewellike beauty. (Reg Grant)

This painting is an illustration from a page in the Akbarnama, or “History of Akbar,” a huge work in three volumes. It was commissioned by the third Mughal emperor of India, Akbar, to provide an illustrated chronicle of his empire, and it took many years to complete. Akbar expanded and centralized the Mughal empire, and the second volume of the Akbarnama records his achievements. In Akbar’s atelier, Persian and Indian artists shared their knowledge and even incorporated Western ideas about depth and perspective into their work. Akbar’s Household Rejoicing at the Birth of His Second Son, Murad is a fine example of this artistic flowering. It celebrates the birth of Akbar’s son some 20 years before the painting was created. The vivid colors are typical of Indian painting of the era, while the Persian influence can be seen in the high horizon, which piles up the scenes of the narrative one on top of the other. The story begins in the top right-hand corner, where Akbar’s wife has delivered their son and her female attendants cook for her in an inner courtyard. The eye is then drawn down to the open door, where another female attendant beckons the guests who queue to bring gifts in celebration of the birth. Beside them, in a cross-section of a room, court astrologers draw up the new baby’s horoscope. The differing costumes of the figures emphasize the tolerance of Akbar’s court, and the viewer can almost hear the din of the music rising from street level. The painting is a wonderful example of a creative fusion of artistic traditions. (Mary Cooch)

This painting reveals the interest of the Mughal emperor Akbar, who reigned from 1556 to 1605, in other cultures and testifies to his tolerance toward other religions. It also demonstrates the European presence in the Indian subcontinent and the cultural exchanges that resulted from it. The Portuguese established themselves in Goa in 1510, and Akbar often invited European delegations to his court. It is known that gifts were exchanged between Akbar and his visitors. Jesuit missionaries who attempted to preach their doctrine offered the Bible to him. The Portuguese embassy brought the Royal Polyglot Bible, which was written in Antwerp between 1568 and 1573 by Christopher Plantin. Biblical engravings then became a source of inspiration for local artists, who adopted the subject matter with some Mughal idioms. The floral scrolls in the border of the painting are typically Mughal. The strong European influence is clear in the division of space, the colors, and the middle-ground architecture of this painting. The unknown artist must have been aware of European techniques and the biblical illustrations. The cross is used as a bracket idiom and divides the composition into left and right sections. The theatrical poses of the figures recall the European depictions of Christian scenes. The strong blue, green, and red colors, as well as the exaggerated folds of the draperies of the figures, are reminiscent of European practices. The small cherubs and angels flying across the clouds are also evident European imports. (Sandrine Josefsada)