John Wilson Ewbank Art

There are so many details to fall in love with in this 18th-century painting depicting an Italianate landscape, for example, the delicately painted figures having a conversation and ...

This small yet captivating painting, crafted on a copper plate, dates back to the mid-1600s and was created by a Flemish artist. Subject Matter: The central figure in the artwork is Mercury, easily identified by his symbolic attributes like winged sandals, petasus, and caduceus. Beside him is a likely female figure, characterized by her attire and absence of weaponry. The depicted scene could represent two mythological tales: Mercury and Calypso: This interpretation suggests the artwork shows the moment Zeus sends Mercury to Calypso's island, Ogygia. Mercury is there to order Calypso to release Ulysses, whom she saved from a shipwreck but kept captive. The lush, wooded background and the three distant figures could hint at Ulysses' farewell to Calypso. Mercury and Herses: Another interpretation could be a scene from the love story of Mercury and Herses. The background figures might symbolize the sisters returning from a procession, while the forefront could be the initial meeting between Mercury and the most beautiful sister, Erse. Artistic Inspiration: The painting's landscape and setting are heavily influenced by the early 17th century Northern European art trends, especially the works of Jan Brueghel the Elder. However, the artwork stands apart with its unique luminescence in detailing and a distinctive approach to depicting figures. While the exact origin and artist remain somewhat mysterious, the style and treatment of light hint towards works close to Josse de Momper...

Amaizing 19' century Roman landscape depicting a part of Villa Borghese with Trinità dei Monti. With a finely carved gilt wood coeval frame. Measurements with frame cm 65 x78 wit...

This small Flemish painting, measuring only 24.5 x 18.5 cm and executed on a copper plate, depicts Saint Nicholas of Tolentino. Created in the 17th century, the artist remains unknow...

Stormy Seas English School, 18th century oil on thick wood panel, unframed panel: 25 x 30 inches provenance: private collection, East Anglia, England condition: very good and sound c...

Moses Strikes Water from the Rock Dutch school, XVII century. Workshop of Jacob de Wet (Haarlem, 1610-1675). Technique: Oil on oak wood panel, composed of 3 horizontal panels. In this evocative work, Moses stands in a cave, gathering the Israelites. There was no water to drink or for their cattle. The people were discontented in the desert. But Moses and Aaron listened to the voice of God. With Aaron’s staff, Moses struck the rock, and water gushed forth abundantly, quenching their thirst. Jacob de Wet’s workshop specializes in subjects from the Old and New Testaments. The recognizable rectangular format, simple compositions, and clear narratives define his style. The interplay of light and shadow, reminiscent of Rembrandt, adds timeless allure. The characters’ costumes, with their large hats and turbans...

Flemish School, 1600s Landscape With Pan and Syrinx painted around the 1600s oil on copper 19 x 23.5 cm frame 29 x 34 cm Hand-made oak frame by Swedish frame maker Christer Björkma...

We are delighted to present a significant piece from the Dutch School, most likely dating back to the late 17th century. This captivating painting showcases the dynamic force of nature with three ships vigorously navigating through stormy waters. The foreground is a scene of nautical struggle, as figures are depicted working intensely with the sails, steering, and bracing against the tumultuous sea. In the serene background, the silhouette of a quaint town emerges, with spires from churches and the outlines of various buildings is visible. This juxtaposition of the calm town against the chaotic foreground serves as a powerful reminder of the unpredictability of life and nature. Dominating the canvas, the sky occupies two-thirds of the painting, filled with brooding clouds that occasionally break to reveal patches of blue. The presence of birds adds a dynamic element to the otherwise ominous atmosphere. While the artist remains unknown, the work is quintessentially Dutch in its execution, with meticulous attention to detail and a profound understanding of maritime life. The painting's oval shape is quite distinctive and is complemented by a suitably antique octagonal black frame, which adds to its historical charm. This piece is a testament to the mastery of Dutch maritime painting...

Venetian painter (19th century) - Padua, Porta Liviana. 37.5 x 48.5 cm without frame, 50.5 x 60 cm with frame. Oil on canvas, in a carved wooden frame. Condition report: Good stat...

David Teniers the Younger (1610-1690) Follower of A Peasant Removing a Plaster: The Sense of Touch signed T on the table oil on panel panel size 7,20 x 5,55 inches (18,3 x 14,4 cm)...

Diana The Huntress and her Cherubs Northern European artist, circa 1680's period oil on canvas, unframed canvas: 20 x 60.5 inches provenance: private collection, UK condition: some p...

The splendour of the tragic sea Francesco Guardi and maritime painting in Venetian art No Venetian painter was a stranger to the sea. After all, Venice was not only one of the most prominent ports of the Mediterranean, but indeed a city literally submerged in the ocean from time to time. Curiously however, the famous Venetian school of painting showed little interest in maritime motifs, favouring scenes from the iconic architecture of the city rather than seascapes. That is why this painting is a particularly interesting window into not only the painter Francesco Guardi himself – but to the significance of the element of water in art history, in absence as well as in the centre of attention. Whether it be calm, sunny days with stunning views of the palaces alongside the canals of Venice or – more rarely – stormy shipwrecking tragedies at sea, water as a unifying element is integral to the works of painter Francesco Guardi (1712–1793). During his lifetime, Venetian art saw many of its greatest triumphs with names like Tiepolo or Canaletto gaining international recognition and firmly establishing Venice as one of the most vibrant artistic communities of Europe. While the city itself already in the 18th century was something of an early tourist spot where aristocrats and high society visited on their grand tour or travels, the artists too contributed to the fame and their work spread the image of Venice as the city of romance and leisure to an international audience, many of whom could never visit in person. Still today, the iconic image of Venice with its whimsical array of palaces, churches and other historic buildings is much influenced by these artists, many of whom have stood the test of time like very well and remain some of the most beloved in all of art history. It was not primarily subtility, intellectual meanings or moral ideals that the Venetian art tried to capture; instead it was the sheer vibrancy of life and the fast-paced city with crumbling palaces and festive people that made this atmosphere so special. Of course, Venice could count painters in most genres among its residents, from portraiture to religious motifs, history painting and much else. Still, it is the Vedutas and views of the city that seems to have etched itself into our memory more than anything else, not least in the tradition of Canaletto who was perhaps the undisputed master of all Venetian painters. Born into his profession, Francesco lived and breathed painting all his life. His father, the painter Domenico Guardi (1678–1716) died when Francesco was just a small child, yet both he and his brothers Niccolò and Gian Antonio continued in their fathers’ footsteps. The Guardi family belonged to the nobility and originated from the mountainous area of Trentino, not far from the Alps. The brothers worked together on more challenging commissions and supported each other in the manner typical of family workshops or networks of artists. Their sister Maria Cecilia married no other than the artist Giovanni Battista Tiepolo himself, linking the family to the most renowned Venetian name of the time. During almost a decade, Guardi worked in the studio of Michele Giovanni Marieschi, sometimes simply known as Michiel, a painted similar in both style and motif. Canaletto is, however, the artist Guardi is most often compared to since they shared a mutual fascination for depicting the architecture and cityscape of Venice. During the course of his career, Guardi tried his hand in many different genres. He was as swift in painting landscapes, Vedutas of Venice, sacred motifs, interiors and architectural compositions as he was in a number of other motifs. His style is typical of the Venetian school but also distinct and personal once we look a little closer. There is an absolute certainty in the composition, the choice of which sometimes feels like that of a carefully calculated photograph – yet it is also very painterly, in the best sense of the word: fluid, bold, sensitive and full of character. The brushwork is rapid, intense, seemingly careless and extraordinarily minute at the same time; fresh and planned in a very enjoyable mixture. His interiors often capture the breath-taking spacious glamour of the palaces and all their exquisite decor. He usually constructed the motif through remarkably simple, almost spontaneous yet intuitively precise strokes and shapes. The result was a festive, high-spirited atmospheric quality, far away from the sterile and exact likeness that other painters fell victim to when trying to copy Canaletto. The painting here has nothing of the city of Venice in it. On the contrary, we seem to be transported far away into the solitary ocean, with no architecture, nothing to hold on to – only the roaring sea and the dangerous cliffs upon which the ships are just moments away from being crushed upon. It is a maritime composition evoking both Flemish and Italian precursors, in the proud tradition of maritime painting that for centuries formed a crucial part of our visual culture. This genre of painting is today curiously overlooked, compared to how esteemed and meaningful it was when our relationship to the sea was far more natural than it is today. When both people and goods travelled by water, and many nations and cities – Venice among them – depended entirely on sea fare, the existential connection to the ocean was much more natural and integrated into the imagination. The schools and traditions of maritime art are as manifold as there are countries connected to the sea, and all reflect the need to process the dangers and wonders of the ocean. It could symbolize opportunity, the exciting prospects of a new countries and adventures, prospering trade, beautiful scenery as well as war and tragedy, loss of life, danger and doom. To say that water is ambivalent in nature is an understatement, and these many layers were something that artists explored in the most wondrous ways. Perhaps it takes a bit more time for the modern eye to identify the different nuances and qualities of historic maritime paintings, they may on first impression seem hard to differentiate from each other. But when allowing these motifs to unfold and tell stories of the sea in both fiction and reality – or somewhere in between – we are awarded with an understanding of how the oceans truly built our world. In Guardi’s interpretation, we see an almost theatrically arranged shipwrecking scene. No less than five ships are depicted right in the moment of utter disaster. Caught in a violent storm, the waves have driven them to a shore of sharp cliffs and if not swallowed by the waves, crushing against the cliffs seems to be the only outcome. The large wooden ships are impressively decorated with elaborate sculpture, and in fact relics already during Guardi’s lifetime. They are in fact typical of Dutch and Flemish 17th century ships, giving us a clue to where he got the inspiration from. Guardi must have seen examples of Flemish maritime art, that made him curious about these particular motifs. One is reminded of Flemish painters like Willem van de Velde and Ludolf Backhuysen, and this very painting has indeed been mistakenly attributed to Matthieu van Plattenberg...